"Everything, barin. We help you to buy food on the road, and if you want tobacco or vodka we can get it for you. Later on we can perhaps get chains loosed for those who wear them, but that's not till we're well into Yeniseisk. And when you get footsore we hire a teléga and ride in turns. Oh, the artel is very useful, I assure you." "Well, those things are none of them much good to us. What else?" "If you care to risk a bolt we can arrange that for you, barin. But I do not advise it. It's dangerous, and only one out of a dozen gets clear as a rule. The rest pay--with their skins." "And how would you escape from the provinces if you wanted to?" "That's easy. Settle down and be good and quiet and mild as milk till you're ready. Start in the spring when the cuckoo sings, and walk away through the woods." "And to get back into Russia?" "Ah! That's another thing, barin. I struck north myself the first time, till I got among the Ostiaks, but it is rough work. How much shall we say now? If the artel can't help you, you can help the artel, and the weaker folk will fare the better." "Very well!--for sake of the weaker folk, and if we want your help we will let you know," which was quite satisfactory to the burly president-treasurer, who pocketed their donations and went away smiling like a carthorse who has just filched a carrot from a neighbour's cart. "You hope to get away, Paul Ivanuitch?" said Palma, after he was gone. "I may. It's as well to learn what one can, anyway. The surveillance is very nominal in the provinces from all that I can learn. In fact, they do say that some of the officials wink at evasions, and almost urge you to go." "How then?" "They draw the prisoner's allowances all the same, you see, while the prisoner lives as he can in the woods and costs them nothing. They count on the final difficulty of getting across the last fence into the home pasture. I should think his idea of steering far north is probably the best." "If you get away will you promise me something, Paul Ivanuitch?" said Palma earnestly. "Surely! I will do anything I can." "Will you seek out my wife, and tell her--tell her not to grieve for me? I know just how she will take it. She will be blaming herself for having drawn me into it all. And there is no need. Tell her I rejoice in what we were able to do together, and I regret nothing except that we were parted for a time. Tell her to leave Russia and get to London. There is money waiting for her there--at Rothschilds'. I foresaw what might come and provided for it. Tell her to have a letter always at the Poste Restante for me, saying where I shall find her. I will come to her as soon as I can--ay, though I have to come red-handed. You don't need to tell her that; simply say that I will come. You will tell her all that, Paul Ivanuitch?" "I will tell her all that--if I get away, and if I find her, Serge Petrovitch."