We had not known one another while free; but as we had belonged to the same society, and had worked for the same ends, we met in prison like old comrades. During the first few days our subjects of conversation seemed inexhaustible. We talked during our walks, and also in our cells, where only a small space separated us, so that by speaking through the peepholes we could hear one another perfectly well. My apprehensions on entering this prison were soon quieted; for though the cells were certainly uncomfortable, we gladly put up with that in view of the other ameliorating circumstances. On one of the first evenings I was sent for to the office, where the old captain awaited me. My comrades had described him to me as very good-natured and obliging, always ready to forward the wishes of the “politicals” whenever possible. He invited me to sit down, and said he wanted to talk quite frankly with me, to which I replied that I should be very glad if he would do so. “You want to get away,” he said; “don’t deny it. I know it very well. But I think it right to warn you plainly that any such attempt can only harm yourself and your comrades. We don’t want anyone to suffer needlessly here; we do our best to lighten the fate of the prisoners. If there is anything you want, you have only to set it down in black and white” (this I found later was a pet expression of the old man’s); “we will send your request to the Governor of Moscow, and he always does what he can to please the prisoners, as far as the law allows him.” Neither before nor since have I ever met an official who spoke so candidly, and his manner inspired confidence. The old man seemed to understand the people with whom he had to deal. He had evidently heard of my two former escapes, and in his diplomatic way hoped to deter me from similar attempts by speaking to me straightforwardly and convincing me of his own goodwill. This pleased me, and I said to him forthwith that of course every prisoner condemned to penal servitude in Siberia must have a very distinct wish to escape; but that so far as I could see such an idea was quite hopeless in this prison, and I had no intention of making any attempt of the kind. This answer seemed to satisfy the old captain, and we separated with the conviction that we should get on rather well together. CHAPTER XIII THE TRIAL OF THE FOURTEEN—RECOLLECTIONS OF VERA FIGNER—NUMEROUS IMPRISONMENTS—“AGENTS PROVOCATEURS”