The distance from Tomsk to Krasnoyarsk is about five hundred versts, and took us a full month to accomplish—twenty days on the march and ten days of rest between the stages. In Krasnoyarsk we were to wait a week, the ordinary prisoners being taken to the deportation prison and we ourselves lodged in the town gaol. On arriving there we were struck by the orderliness of the arrangements. The spacious new building was freshly whitewashed, and the whole place spotlessly clean; there was light and air in abundance, and there were no bars to the windows. We might have imagined that we had been brought to a decent hotel; I have certainly never seen another prison like it in either Siberia or Russia. When we entered the corridor, however, the air of comfort was somewhat lessened by inscriptions on the cell doors—“For murder”; “For robbery”; “For theft,” etc. The governor, a pleasant-looking man, came up and ordered briefly and decisively that we should be placed in separate cells, and each according to his special class—convicts, exiles, and “administratives”—as that was the rule of the place. This did not suit us at all, and we explained to him the upset it would mean to our feeding arrangements; besides which, as during our two months’ journey we had clubbed all our luggage together, it would be very awkward to change all that at a moment’s notice. Moreover, we told him, we did not wish to be treated in any different way from that prescribed by the regulations; that we were on transport, and therefore not supposed to conform to the rules of the place, which only applied to prisoners on remand or under sentence there. It had nothing to do with us, we said, that we had not been taken to the deportation prison where we belonged; and—to sum the matter up—we intended to do here as everywhere else, _i.e._ we should divide into groups convenient to ourselves in the different rooms, and might be locked up by night, but not by day, as set forth in our instructions.