"I fear that our chains are too securely rivetted, to be wrenched asunder," answered Ivan, "and too many are interested in forging fresh links to leave us hope of freeing ourselves, even at the sacrifice of our heart's blood." "You labour under a false impression, my young friend," answered his companion; "for all classes join heart and soul in this glorious work. Indeed, the Despot has no greater enemies than many among the highest in the land, who feel their chains more galling than do the humble serfs; again I ask you, do you not wish success to their gallant spirits engaged in the noble attempt?" "Most earnestly do I hope they may succeed," said Ivan. "Enough," answered the conspirator, for such he declared himself, "I need test you no more; for I place implicit confidence in you. This evening, the advocates of Russian Liberty hold a meeting, and, as I anticipate that ere long you will join them with heart and hand, I will introduce you to them." "Lead--and I will follow," replied Ivan, with enthusiasm; "my heart yearns to join any who advocate so noble a cause, and I trust I may not prove unworthy of it." "No time must then be lost; e'en now they are assembled," rejoined his companion, "their place of council is at some distance, and speak not, till I give the word, for we shall be obliged to pass the police patrols, ever watchful and vigilant." "Forward then," said Ivan, "and rely on my prudence." The conspirator stealthily led the way down a path to the margin of the river, where they found a small skiff, capable of containing three persons--a rower resting on his oars being already seated, who, on a signal from the former, pulled rapidly down the stream. Continuing their course in silence for some time, the oarsman abruptly ceased rowing, and the little bark glided swiftly into a dark and narrow creek on the opposite bank of the river. Ivan followed his guide on shore, while the boat held her course again down the narrow stream. As they advanced, lights were visible in the apartments of many handsome buildings, and Ivan found himself in a respectable part of the city, though one in which many vestiges still remained of the devastating conflagration which had reduced Moscow to ashes. His guide threaded in his way many lanes, and traversed wide streets, till suddenly retreating to the back of a handsome mansion, that had lately been raised from the ruins which surrounded it, he gave a low and peculiar knock at a wicket gate, opening apparently into a garden. The signal on being twice repeated, was answered by a decrepit old man, with a long beard and tattered dress, who unclosed the gate, but instantly relocked it, as the two visitors entered. "Who is it," said he, "seeking to disturb the old serf Kersoff at this late hour?--If any wish to buy his garden produce, let them come by daylight, and not rouse him from his bed." The guide whispered a word in the old man's ear, and he retired to his hut by the side of the gate.