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Updated: May 1, 2025
A week later Mikail arrived in Kief. He appeared to be about thirty years of age, was tall of stature, well built and sturdy. His complexion was dark, his features oriental, his face oval, framed by a coal black flowing beard, which gave him an appearance at once imposing and attractive. His large black eyes shone with the lustre of intelligence.
"Well, you know the fellow's history, Mikail, and that he had murdered nine people he had lived among and who trusted him. What could one expect from a villain like that?" "Oh, I know he is a bad one," Mikail said, "but I did not think he dare take the risk." "I don't suppose he thought there was much risk, Mikail.
He stood up at your feet and leant over, as I thought then, and I know now, to stab you, but I flung myself on him, and you know the rest of it." "Well, you have saved my life, there is no mistake about that," and Mikail lifted and laid him on the bench.
"There are twenty thousand convicts cross the frontier every year, lad. There is not one man makes his escape in five years." "Well, I mean to be the man this five years, Mikail." "I would not try if I were you. Were you in on a life sentence for murder, or still worse, as a political prisoner, I would say try if you like, for you would have nothing to lose; but you have a good prospect now.
In vain did Mikail circulate among the men, by turns commanding and pleading, to induce them to desist from their work of destruction. They looked at him askance and then at each other, significantly. But yesterday this same priest spurred them on to vengeance, filling them with passion against the people whose cause he now espoused.
He was more puzzled than ever, after what Boris had told him, to account for the behavior of Mikail Suvaroff. "I'll bet there's some explanation," he said to himself. "I certainly hope so! Seeing Boris makes me inclined to like these Russian relatives a whole lot, and I'd like to think that Uncle Mikail could square himself somehow. He's got a whole lot to make up for, of course."
"You won't have to be here many days," the doctor said when he came round the ward. "I only had you brought here because the air is sweeter and better than it is in that room you were in." An hour later the governor with a clerk came in. Mikail was first called upon for his statement, which was written down by the clerk.
Two or three days after his arrival Godfrey wrote to Mikail. It was a very guarded letter, because he knew that it would be opened by the prison authorities, but it thanked him for the kindness he had shown to him while in prison, and expressed a hope that, now that he would have obtained partial freedom, and would be united to his wife, he would succeed and prosper.
"It is strange that you feel forced to call upon those who cannot say anything for or against you since they are in the hands of the Germans." Inspiration came suddenly to Fred, and he said nothing. He gave his uncle stare for stare. "Well, what have you to say?" said Mikail, at last. "What defence have you, spy?"
I may not succeed next time, just as I did not succeed last year, but succeed in the end I will." "I believe you," Mikail said earnestly, infected by Godfrey's enthusiasm. "Did you not overthrow, as if he were a babe, Kobylin, whom everyone else feared? Yes, if anyone can do it you can." At last the long winter was over, the thaw came, and the work at the mine was renewed.
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