At any other time the man to whom anything of that sort was said would have replied angrily enough, and defended himself; now the observation was met with modest silence. “True enough,” was said. “Everybody’s not a Koulikoff or an A--v, you’ve got to show what you’re made of before you’ve a right to speak.” “I say, pals, after all, why do we remain in the place?” struck in a prisoner seated by the kitchen window; he spoke drawlingly, but the man, you could see, enjoyed it all; he slowly rubbed his cheek with the palm of his hand. “Why do we stop? It’s no life at all, we’ve been buried, though we’re alive and kicking. Now _isn’t_ it so?” “Oh, curse it, you can’t get out of prison as easy as shaking off an old boot. I tell you it sticks to your calves. What’s the good of pulling a long face over it?” “But, look here; there is Koulikoff now,” began one of the most eager, a mere lad. “Koulikoff!” exclaimed another, looking askance at the young fellow. “Koulikoff! They don’t turn out Koulikoffs by the dozen.” “And A--v, pals, there’s a lad for you!” “Aye, aye, he’ll get Koulikoff just where he wants him, as often as he wants him. He’s up to everything, he is.” “I wonder how far they’ve got; that’s what _I_ want to know,” said one. Then the talk went off into details: Had they got far from the town? What direction did they go off in? _Which_ gave them the best chance? Then they discussed distances, and as there were convicts who knew the neighbourhood well, these were attentively listened to. Next, they talked over the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, of whom they seemed to think as badly as possible. There was nobody in the neighbourhood, the convicts believed, who would hesitate at all as to the course to be pursued; nothing would induce them to help the runaways; quite the other way, these people would hunt them down. “If you only knew what bad fellows these peasants are! Rascally brutes!” “Peasants, indeed! Worthless scamps!” “These Siberians are as bad as bad can be. They think nothing of killing a man.” “Oh, well, our fellows----” “Yes, that’s it, they may come off second best. Our fellows are as plucky as plucky can be.” “Well, if we live long enough, we shall hear something about them soon.” “Well, now, what do you _think_? Do you think they really will get clean away?” “I am sure, as I live, that they’ll never be caught,” said one of the most excited, giving the table a great blow with his fist. “Hm! That’s as things turn out.” “I’ll tell you what, friends,” said Skouratof, “if I once got out, I’d stake my life they’d never get me again.” “_You?_” Everybody burst out laughing. They would hardly condescend to listen to him; but Skouratof was not to be put down. “I tell you I’d stake my life on it!” with great energy. “Why, I made my mind up to _that_ long ago. I’d find means of going through a key-hole rather than let them lay hands on me.”