“With a comfortable room and a warm stove, you will not find much to complain of, Captain Carstairs,” the governor said with a smile; “and, no doubt, Michaeloff may be enabled to obtain leave for you to go out with him on parole.  I was about myself to ask you, now that you are strong and well again, whether you would like to give your parole, and offer you the use of my horse for a ride, when inclined for it.”

“Thank you, governor.  If Michaeloff can do that, it will certainly be a boon, but I am not disposed to agree that the change can be his work.  In the first place, we don’t know that he is there.  In the second, I can hardly think that he could have managed it; and, most of all, I do not see he could possibly have had a hand in the matter, for, even supposing the officer had found him directly he arrived, and then given him the message, and he had acted upon it at once, there would have been no time for the order to get here.  It would have needed a messenger riding night and day, with frequent relays of horses, to have got to Notteburg and back since the day I spoke to you about the matter.

“When am I to start?”

“As soon as you have eaten your breakfast.  The order says ’send at once,’ and field marshals expect their orders to be attended to promptly.”

On descending to the courtyard after breakfast, Charlie was surprised to see that, instead of a horse as he had expected, a well-appointed carriage, with an ample supply of rugs, was standing there.  The governor was there to see him off.

“Well, sir,” Charlie said.  “If this is the way in which you convey prisoners from one place to another in Russia, I shall certainly be able, when I meet King Charles, to report to him most favourably as to the treatment of his officers who have fallen into the czar’s hands.  This will make the journey a very much more pleasant one than I had expected.”

“I am glad you are pleased,” the governor said, “and that you have no unpleasant recollection of your stay here.”

A minute later, the carriage dashed out through the gate of the prison.  An officer was seated by Charlie’s side, two Cossacks galloping in front, while two others rode behind.

“It was worth making the change, if only for this drive,” Charlie thought cheerfully, as the dust flew up in a cloud before the horses’ hoofs, and he felt a sense of exhilaration from the keen air that blew in his face.

The journey was performed with great rapidity.  One of the Cossacks galloped ahead, as soon as they arrived at the station where they changed horses, and had fresh ones in readiness at the next post house.  The Cossacks themselves were changed at every other station, fresh relays from the men stationed there taking their place.  Excellent meals were served three times a day, and each night a comfortable bed was provided, at the last post house where they stopped.

The officer was a pleasant fellow, but he spoke nothing except Russian, and, although Charlie fancied he understood him to some extent when he spoke to him in Polish, he shook his head and gave no answers in that language.