See portrait, p. 112. Stefanòvitch was one of the most prominent of the Terrorists, who, helped chiefly by Deutsch and Bohanòvsky, succeeded in instructing and organising several thousands of peasants, and was on the point of heading their insurrection when he was arrested in 1877. Stefanòvitch, Deutsch, and Bohanòvsky were imprisoned at Kiëv, and their escape thence has been related (note, p. 98). Stepniak describes Stefanòvitch (see _Underground Russia_, _Jacob Stefanovic_, and _Two Escapes_) as of very strong and original character, extremely reserved, speaking rarely, and, though a man of action, very cautious and practical. He was the son of a village priest, and kept up constant intercourse with his old father, even when it was most dangerous for him to do so, at a time when whole cities would be thrown into a ferment if his presence in them were suspected. His personal appearance Stepniak describes thus: “He was of middle height, and somewhat slender, hollow-chested, and with narrow shoulders. Physically, he must have been very weak. I never saw an uglier man. He had the face of a negro, or rather of a Tartar, prominent cheek-bones, a large mouth, and a flat nose. But it was an attractive ugliness. Intelligence shone forth from his grey eyes. His smile had something of the malign and of the subtly sportive, like the character of the Ukrainian race to which he belongs. When he mentioned some clever trick played off upon the police he laughed most heartily, and showed his teeth, which were very fine and white as ivory. His entire countenance, with his wrinkled forehead and his cold, firm look, expressed a resolution and at the same time a self-command which nothing could disturb. I observed that in speaking he did not use the slightest gesture.” Stefanòvitch has now (1903) been over twenty years in Siberia. It was expected that in May this year he would be liberated so far as to be permitted to reside in some outlying province of European Russia, but this hope has not been realised.—_Trans._ In No. 1 there were also sixteen men, that being the complete number; and now that we had arrived every room was full. After greeting the comrades here and chatting with my friend, I visited all the other rooms. Of course, the advent of a new-comer is a great event in the prison, and is generally expected beforehand, for notwithstanding all official precaution, a good deal of intelligence from without finds its way through the walls. The arrival is awaited with the greatest impatience, as may be imagined; and for a few days the monotony of the life is enlivened by the new-comer’s tidings of the world in general and of the revolutionary movement in particular.