Then, with a last glance at the gloomy prison, they quickly crossed the street, and plunged in among the rows of squalid huts, keeping a sharp lookout for danger. But on such a stormy night no one was abroad except in the vicinity of the prison, and after winding in and out among the narrow streets of the settlement, the fugitives reached the suburbs. Presently they came to the bank of the Kara River, where they stopped for a breath of free air—the first they had enjoyed in two long years. “It is possible that the lieutenant has changed his mind, and won’t enter the cell until morning,” said Shamarin, at this point, “but we won’t take any chances. The snow is now about half a foot deep, and it is not coming down fast enough to conceal our tracks in case our flight is discovered within the next hour. We should be traced to this point at once.” “Then what can we do?” asked Sandoff uneasily. “Only one thing,” was the reply. “Wade up the shallow bed of the river. It is only partly frozen, owing to the swiftness of its current. The Cossacks may suspect our ruse, it is true, but they will follow the stream southward down the valley, and not to the north, in which direction we must go. But come! Vera will be expecting us.” Without hesitation they waded into the icy waters and worked their way up stream, keeping close to the shore, where it was quite shallow, and sometimes stepping from one to another of the rocks that, covered with snow and ice, rose above the surface of the current. Two full hours were required to traverse the two miles and a half that separated the settlement from the gold placers where the convicts had recently been working, but at last the ungainly heaps of sand and gravel began to appear here and there. Peering through the falling snow Shamarin descried at a little distance the hollow where his sister had promised to await their coming. Forgetful of pain and fatigue they pressed on, and as their weary feet trod the soft snow that carpeted the shore of the river, a dull report echoed through the night and shattered the stillness of the valley. Then another, and another—each seeming louder than the last. CHAPTER V. DOWN THE SHILKA. No need to tell the fugitives the meaning of the booming cannon. It was all plain enough. Their escape had been discovered, and in a few moments mounted Cossacks would be riding to and fro through the snowy night. From one end of the settlement to the other the news would spread, and all would be on the alert for the escaped prisoners. “If we only could have had one night’s start,” panted Shamarin, as he plunged forward through the drifted snow into the mouth of the little hollow. “But the case is not hopeless by any means. Keep your spirits up, Sandoff.” Then he uttered a glad cry as a figure muffled in heavy furs rose from behind a rock and came swiftly forward. “Vera!” “Felix, my brother!”