Too late! A pair of muscular arms darted lightning like through the opening, and the unlucky Cossack was seized by the throat and dragged bodily out of the snow and through the narrow opening. Still holding his victim by the throat, so that no outcry was possible, Shamarin—for it was he who had performed the daring deed—struck the Cossack’s head forcibly against the end of the log. His struggles ceased, and he lay quietly on the ground. “Not dead, is he?” asked Sandoff fearfully. “No, only stunned,” replied Shamarin. “Help me to bind him, quick! Every moment that we stay here increases our peril.” As he spoke he tore the Cossack’s leather belt from about his waist and proceeded to sever it in two, lengthwise, with the knife. “Don’t stop for that,” said Sandoff. “The officer of the guard makes a round every few moments. If he comes by now we are lost.” “True!” exclaimed Shamarin. “I had forgotten that—what shall we do? It is important that this sentry be put out of the way, as you will see later. Stop! I have an idea. Put on this fellow’s cap and coat, shoulder his rifle, and mount guard outside, keeping your back up against the hole.” “A good plan,” replied Sandoff approvingly. “I will do it.” Shamarin handed him the cap and cloak and he quickly donned them. They fitted his tall figure well. Then he crept hurriedly into the snowy street, picked up the rifle that the Cossack had dropped, and assumed a rigid martial attitude. Opposite him was a row of low buildings, dark and silent. To his left, around the angle of the prison, the narrow street opened on the square, and to the right it extended through the outskirts of the settlement to the Kara River. Not a living creature was in sight. Five minutes passed and no word or signal came from Shamarin. Then a quick crunching sound fell on Sandoff’s ear, and he had barely time to divine its meaning when a Cossack officer rounded the angle of the prison and approached him on a brisk walk. Sandoff nerved himself for the ordeal. His cap was far over his eyes and the cape of his coat came well up about his ears, so he had little fear of recognition. He presented his rifle respectfully as the officer reached the spot. The latter contented himself with a nod and a brief glance, and was about to pass on when the rattle of hoofs echoed down the narrow street. Hearing this he stopped not six feet from Sandoff, and waited. Presently half a dozen mounted Cossacks loomed out of the driving snow, and clattered down the street until they were opposite the prison. Then, catching a glimpse of the officer, their commander ordered a halt, and while the horses pranced restlessly from side to side, a brief conversation took place between the two. “What luck, Captain Petrof?” asked the officer of the guard. “None whatever, lieutenant,” was the reply. “The girl has probably perished from exposure by this time. Her body will be found after the first thaw.”