“You heard the cannon this morning?” she continued quickly. “They were for me. I escaped last night from the women’s prison at Ust Kara. I will explain all later. I have been watching here all day. Tonight you must escape. Remove a board from the floor of your cell—that packet contains tools which will help you. Come directly to this spot. I have plans which I will explain then. Don’t be alarmed about me. I am warmly clothed, and have a safe hiding place.” “If possible we shall be there,” replied Shamarin. “I think your plan will work—but if anything happens and we don’t come, give yourself up. I have a strange thing to tell you. This man here, my companion, is——” “Hush! hush! the Cossack is returning. Good by—until tonight.” Vera quickly withdrew her head and Sandoff and Shamarin plied their picks with trembling hands and agitated faces, as the Cossack came quickly forward, shouldering his rifle. He had evidently received some signal from his companions, for as he reached the spot he said gruffly: “The lieutenant has ordered a return. The snow is becoming too deep to do good work.” He conducted his temporary prisoners out of the hollow, and across the shallow stream on the scattered stones. A few moments later the convict gang was marching back to the settlement. At least two of their number bore lighter hearts than had been theirs when they started from their cells that morning. CHAPTER IV. A DARING ESCAPE. The convict prison at the settlement of Middle Kara was a long, low, single story building, so situated that one of its longer sides fronted upon the street, while the other opened on a square courtyard surrounded by a high stockade. Of the two narrow ends one faced another street, and the other was backed by the pretentious tin roofed dwelling belonging to the commander of the prison. The interior of this wretched building, which sheltered nightly from one to two hundred convicts, was dirty and foul in the extreme, and was apportioned into _kameras_ or sleeping cells, holding anywhere from four to a dozen men apiece. Sandoff and Shamarin occupied one of the smaller apartments and shared it with two other prisoners, Butin and Vraskoi by name. Thus, when they returned that night from the mines and were locked up in their dreary cells, they found themselves confronted by a very perplexing question—how to dispose of Butin and Vraskoi. At present they gave no thought to what lay beyond the first and most important step—the escape from the prison. It was enough for Shamarin to know that his sister had some possible plan in her head—some plan that offered a fair chance of overcoming the terrible obstacles that usually confronted fugitives who tried to escape from Siberia, and especially at this time of year—the dead of winter. He had sufficient faith in Vera to believe this, and patience enough to act and wait.