In this Moscow prison we “politicals” had frequent opportunities of intercourse, and we soon managed to get news of the outer world. This was partly through our discovery that one of the inspectors was accessible to bribes. This man—we will call him Smirnòv—was about five-and-twenty, his family an impoverished branch of the smaller rural nobility. His sister was the mistress of a personage of some importance, and he owed his situation as prison inspector to her influence. Reckless, daring, and up to all sorts of dodges, he was ready for any adventure, and would not even have recoiled from committing a crime if it had seemed likely to be profitable to him. Scarcely able to read and write, he had an almost superstitious reverence for anything like education, and that made him anxious to ingratiate himself with us “politicals.” He was doubly delighted at being useful to us: first, because it flattered his vanity, and secondly, because we were very willing to reward his services with coin of the realm. He had a special affection for me, and often came to my cell for a gossip about all sorts of things. Of his own accord he suggested that he might help me to escape; but I turned every plan over and over, and could see none likely of success. “Just listen, though,” he said once; “we can work it out like this: I can disguise you as a lamplighter or a stove-cleaner, and take you out of the prison with me, and then we can go abroad together.” This might indeed have been managed, but there was much to be said against it; above all, the feeling of solidarity with my comrades prevented me from wishing to escape alone. The other two, my neighbours, had severer sentences than mine to undergo, and I could not have borne to leave them behind. We should have needed a considerable sum of money, which I had not at command; and then, besides, I should have had this man on my hands for the rest of our lives. All this led me to decline his offer. Meanwhile, my companions had a plan of their own for breaking through the wall and so getting free, and although they had kept their preparations carefully secret, Smirnòv got an inkling of them. “Do you think I don’t know your comrades want to get out?” he said to me one day. “Only tell them to manage so that I don’t get into trouble. I shan’t betray them.” I promised him he should not be let in for anything, and told my comrades; but they very soon saw their plan was not feasible, and gave it up. We had no reason to fear that this man would tell tales of us, he was too much in our hands; but on one occasion I forced him to give information to the authorities, as I will now relate. It had come to our knowledge that the ordinary criminals in this prison managed to disembarrass themselves of their fetters, not only at night, but through the day, and that this was winked at by the officials. I therefore resolved to follow their example, and get rid of my chains, but openly, not in secret.