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Updated: May 11, 2025
After long waiting, he procured a Siberian wig that is, a sheepskin with the wool turned in, to preserve the head from the cold three shirts, a sheepskin bournouse, and a red velvet cap bordered with fur the dress of a well-to-do peasant. On a sharp frosty night he quitted Ekaterinski for Tara, having determined to try the road to the north for Archangel, as the least frequented.
The thing has been hushed up for the sake of Mezkarpin, poor man! The Chief told me he had had a stroke in the prison and may not recover. The girl must be a tigress! Velasco! Are you asleep? Wake up! Velasco!" "What mines did you say, Galitsin?" "The Ékaterinski Zavad." "They have started already?" "Yesterday." "The Chief told you that?" "The Chief himself told me." "Did he mention the route?"
At length one of the council announced to him that he was to be sent to the distillery of Ekaterinski, three hundred miles to the north of Omsk. The clerks around congratulated him on his destination, and his departure was immediate. On a wintry morning he reached a vast plain near the river Irtish, on which a village of about two hundred wooden huts was built around a factory.
"Dead!" "Don't fly up like that! Sit down! I saw the Chief of Police yesterday, and he gave me some advice to hand on to you." "Is she dead, Galitsin?" "No, but she will be. She is sent with a gang to the Ékaterinski Zavad. They are gone already, chained together, and marching through the snow and the cold. It is thousands of miles.
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