"Ah God! That is too good to hope for," said the man who was like a carthorse. CHAPTER V HOW TWO MET IN HADES The great gates of the stockade swung slowly open, and a motley crowd came in from the barges which had brought them from Tiumen, and the older inhabitants gathered in long lines to see them pass, all except the dicers, who remained intent on their game. But Pavlof lay where he was. The sight of the weary women and children, smelling like wild beasts from the close confinement of the barges, was always a saddening one. The newcomers were drafted off to the already crowded kameras, and the grey-clad droves settled again to their aimless wanderings. While Pavlof still lay musing over his late studies--the man with the barrow, the man with the dog, and the man who was like a carthorse--one of the newly arrived came out of the log house where he had been to deposit his grey sack containing his belongings, and strolled along past the spot where Pavlof lay. A big man with fair hair and beard. It was only when he had passed that Pavlof got an impression of him. But the impression was so startling that he jerked out an involuntary "Good God!" and sat up suddenly and remained staring intently after the man. He argued himself out of the impression and leaned back against the wooden house again. But presently the newcomer came strolling back. Pavlof sat up again in rigid scrutiny. Then their eyes met and Pavlof sprang up and ran to him. "Palma! Is it possible?" he gasped, with a mighty fear dragging rough hands across his heart-strings. "What--Pavlof?" and their hands gripped tightly. "It's good to see the face of a friend even in hell," said Palma, with something of his old heartiness. "All the same, I'm sorry to see you here, Paul Ivanuitch." "And I you, Serge Petrovitch. And your wife--Hope Ivanovna?" he asked anxiously. "She is not here?" "No, thank God! She is not here." "Thank God for that!" said Pavlof earnestly. "But where she is I do not know, nor whether I have anything to thank God for in her not being here. It is twelve months since they took me and I have had no word of her since," and his face broke for a moment, and then pinched the tighter. "Sit down here in the sun and tell me your news," said Pavlof. "Where are you for?" "Kara--ten years." "And why?"