"Now this has been foreseen, as everything is with the Master; and his orders are that you shall take this passport--which you will find in perfect order, save for the fact that the date has been slightly altered--from me as soon as I have got the ladies safely in the troika out on the Tobolsk road, put off the livery of the Tsar, disguise yourself as effectually as may be, and take the first train back to Perm and Nizhni Novgorod as Stepan Bakuinin, fur merchant. "The servant you can leave behind on any excuse. From Novgorod you can travel _viâ_ Moscow to Königsberg, and, if you will take my advice, you will get out of Russia as soon as the Fates will let you." "It shall be done, Nobleness. But how will the disappearance of Dmitri Soudeikin, sub-commissioner of police, be accounted for?" "That also has been provided for. Before you go you will pin this with a dagger to your sitting-room table." The official took the little piece of paper which Colston held out to him as he spoke. It read thus-- Dmitri Soudeikin, sub-commissioner of police at Tiumen, has been removed for over-zeal in the service of the Tsar. NATAS. Soudeikin bowed almost to the ground as the dreaded name of the Master of the Terror met his eyes, and then he said, as he handed the paper back-- "It is so! The Master sees all, and cares for the least of his servants. My life shall be forfeited if the ladies are not released as I have said." "It probably will be," returned Colston drily. "None of us expect to get out of this business alive if it does not succeed. Now that is all I have to say for the present. It is for you to bring the ladies here as your prisoners, to see us out of the town before daybreak, and to have the troika in readiness for us on the Tobolsk road. Then see to yourself and I will be responsible for the rest." As it still wanted more than two hours to the expected arrival of the train, Soudeikin had the samovar, or tea-urn, brought in, and Colston and Ivan made a hearty meal after their five-mile walk through the snow. Then they and their host lit their pipes, and smoked and chatted until a distant whistle warned Soudeikin that the train was at last approaching the station, and that it was time for him to be on duty to receive his convict-lodgers. CHAPTER XIII. FOR LIFE OR DEATH. No time had ever seemed so long to Colston as did the hour and a half which passed after the departure of Soudeikin until his return. He would have given anything to have accompanied him to the station, but it would have been so very unwise to have incurred the risk of being questioned, and perhaps obliged to show the passport that Soudeikin was to use, that he controlled his impatience as best he could, and let events take their course.