“In what case was he condemned?” we heard him ask, as he stood on the landing. “In the Kiëv trial,” someone answered. “Aha, one of those fellows who made trouble in the prison over there!” he said in a satisfied tone. He visited the rest of us, holding his hat in his hand most politely, but he did not forget to revenge himself on Dashkièvitch after his own fashion. * * * * * Dashkièvitch’s sentence had been “banishment to the less distant provinces of Siberia,” a fairly mild punishment; but Vrassky now ordered his transportation to the furthest wilds of the country, and he was sent to Tunka, on the borders of Mongolia. CHAPTER XVI PREPARATIONS FOR OUR TRAVELS—THE BOAT JOURNEY BY THE VOLGA AND THE KAMA—EKATERINBURG—ON THE TROIKA—“TO EUROPE, TO ASIA” The spring of 1885 came, and we began to make ready for our long journey. At the outset arose the very important question, what luggage could we take? The rules prescribed that those “deprived of all rights” should not have more than 25 lbs. in weight. The equipment provided by Government weighed that by itself; so that all our own belongings would have to be abandoned, including books, of course. This would have been a severe loss, for in Moscow our private library had grown considerably. Count Tolstoi had given us an edition of his collected works in twelve volumes, and also a _History of Russia_ in twenty-nine volumes. Happily, however, the authorities decided that only the gross weight of the luggage should be counted for the whole detachment of exiles; so that as the “administratives” were allowed 5 pood (about 180 lbs.) apiece, and many of them had but few possessions, we managed to get our books in. As everything we possessed had been through the hands of the officials, of course there was no forbidden literature in our library; nevertheless we were told to submit it all anew to inspection, and in the course of this the appointed censor had opportunities for exhibiting to our delighted gaze his special qualifications for the post. He was a high official, and had graduated in jurisprudence at Petersburg. Our friend Rubìnok turned to him with the question whether he might take Karl Marx’s _Capital_ with him. “Why, how can you take somebody else’s capital with you?” asked our censor in a surprised tone. “It is my own,” said Rubìnok, not comprehending. “Well, if it is your own, of course you can take it,” was the reply, “only you must hand it over to the officer commanding the convoy, who takes charge of all money.” We, who saw the joke, had great difficulty in repressing our mirth at the idea of Rubìnok’s running off with the apparently unknown Karl Marx’s property! * * * * *