The adjutant took Ödön by the arm and led him out. The house was full of officers and their servants, so that no place could be found for the prisoner but a little shanty built of boards, adjoining the stable. Here he was confined, and a Cossack stationed with his carbine outside as guard. Every three hours the guard was changed. Being acquainted with Russian, Ödön understood the order given to his jailer,--"If he tries to escape, shoot him." At nine o'clock in the evening a thunder-storm came up. The rain descended in torrents, and in the flashes of lightning the captive could look through the cracks in his prison-wall and see the Cossack standing ankle-deep in mud and water, his carbine ready for instant use. The storm passed over; the tower-clock struck eleven; in the adjoining stable Ödön heard the Russian cavalrymen snoring, while their horses were stamping under an improvised shed near by. Suddenly he heard his name called, cautiously and in a whisper. "Who is calling me?" he asked. "I--the guard." "What! do you know me, too?" "Do you remember your sledge-driver on the Mohilev steppe,--the time we were nearly eaten up by the wolves? You stood by me then, and I'm going to stand by you now. At the back of your shanty is a loose board,--the fourth from the bottom. You can push it aside and crawl out. The horse-shed is behind. My horse has his saddle and bridle on; you'll know him by his white tail. He's the fastest runner in the regiment. Mount him and make for the garden in the rear, and then follow the storm. You'll find the horse a good one, and easy on the bit. Don't be afraid of me if I shoot after you; I'm bound to do it, though I'm not to blame for all the loose boards in your prison. And one word more: when you have mounted my horse, and want him to go, press his flanks with your knees, but don't whip him. If you use the whip he'll stand stock-still, and the harder you whip the stiller he'll stand. More than one horse-thief has come to grief for want of knowing that. His name is Ljubicza, and he likes to be called by it. If you whisper in his ear, 'Hurrah, Ljubicza!' he'll dart away like the wind." Ödön felt renewed life thrill through his veins. He lost no time in following his humble friend's directions. Finding the loose board, which seemed to be secured only by a rusty nail, he softly removed it, and squeezed through the opening. Making his way to the horse-shed, he soon picked out the white-tailed horse, swung himself on to its back and turned it around. Then, pressing his knees inward, he whispered, "Hurrah, Ljubicza!" The well-trained animal darted away through the garden. At the sound of the galloping horse the guard sprang forward, drew his carbine to his shoulder, and, whispering, "St. George preserve him!" pulled the trigger. At the report all the sleepers leaped to their feet. "What's up?" "Prisoner escaped." "After him!"