"These arguments prevailed with me, and I abandoned the mad idea of appealing to Vasilovich; but I was in despair for my dear father, until in a happy moment I remembered the words that he had spoken to me about you only a short time before this dreadful misfortune befell us; then I felt that, if I could but find you, something might yet be done. I spoke to my friends about it, and they approved of my proposal to seek you. But when I mentioned that it would be necessary for me to come to England in search of you, another difficulty arose. Count Vasilovich had no doubt already anticipated and provided against the possibility that I might endeavour to leave Russia; and to make the attempt openly would but too surely result in my falling into his power. But my friends were very, very kind to me; they were determined that I should escape, and at length they were fortunate enough to find a lady who was about to travel from Saint Petersburg to London, and who consented to bring me with her as her maid. In this way all difficulties were overcome; and yesterday I arrived safely in London, and at once went to the address that my father had given me when he spoke of the possibility of your being able to help me, should trouble come upon us. I had some difficulty in finding the place--being a stranger in London--and when I did so it was only to learn that you had last been heard of as being here; so I determined to follow you at once, taking the midnight train from London, and staying in the village only long enough to get some lunch--of which I stood sadly in need--before driving over here. And, thank God, I have been fortunate enough to find you!" "Ah, thank God, indeed, my dear child," echoed the professor, "for I assure you it is only by a combination of the most trifling circumstances that I did not leave here yesterday; in which case further pursuit of me would have been equally useless and impossible. But never mind that, now; `all is well that ends well,' as they say here in England; you have found me, and that is enough for the present. Now, tell me, are you absolutely certain of the accuracy of Petrovich's information as to your father being _en route_ for Sakhalien?" "Oh yes," answered Feodorovna; "there is, unfortunately, no room for doubt as to that. The son of one of the under-gaolers at Peter and Paul happen to be affianced to Petrovich's sister, and it was through this man that Petrovich obtained the information." "Just so," assented the professor. "And in any case," he added, "I suppose Vasilovich would be certain to possess full and perfectly accurate information as to the whereabouts and ultimate destination of your father?" "Oh yes," answered Feodorovna, "he would be sure to know everything. But I do not see how that fact is to help us; because, you see, dear friend, we have no power to compel him to reveal what he knows."