your superiors, and when the righttime comes manage somehow to escape. How, I will not undertake to tellyou. That you must work out yourself. But shape your course for theGerman frontier, and once across the border you will be safe."
"So far away?"
"Yes, for there is liberty and safety nowhere short of there. If yousucceed, the money is yours, to do with as you like, only assure me thata portion of it shall eke your revenge, and mine."
"I promise you, sir."
"Good. If you live to reach Germany, make inquiries for the village ofMertz. Once there, become familiar with the place and its mountainoussurroundings, after which this diagram will assist you in finding thecave where the gold is hidden," and he took from his breast, next to hispoor old wrinkled flesh, a strip of folded parchment, which, whenunfolded, was about eight inches square.
Barnwell took it with hands that trembled fully as much as the old man'sdid.
"On it is a map which you can easily study out and decipher, and whichwill surely lead you to the hidden treasure. It is a wild anduninhabited part of the town, only about five miles from the frontierborder. That red dot there marks the spot where it is secreted, and younotice that all lines on the diagram lead to it. Mark the line leadingup from the old post-road, and on it are marked the---"
At that instant a servant entered the cell and announced that thesurgeon wanted "No. 1000," which was Barnwell; and remembering how longhe had been absent, he hastily thrust the parchment under his shirt.
"I come," said he in Russian, and the slave went away. "I will see youagain at the first opportunity. Drink the remainder of the brandy," andhe almost pressed it to his thin lips.
"Be on your guard, my son; for from this hour your watchfulness mustbegin. Farewell."
"Farewell; and I shall hope to find you better when I come again," saidBarnwell.
"But do not be surprised to find me dead."
"Cheer up, your time is not yet come, I hope; and, besides, I wantfurther instructions."
He did not wait for a reply, but hurried to the surgeon's office.
CHAPTER IX.
THE DEAD EXILE.
On reaching the chief surgeon's quarters he found that irritable pettytyrant possessed of much temper on account of his long absence.
"If you don't pay more attention to your duties, I will have you sentinto the mines."
"Pardon me, sir, but I found the old man very low, and, tried to comforthim," said Barnwell, respectfully.
"Curse him, let him die. He only lingers from pure obstinacy to maketrouble here. The wolves are waiting for his carcass. Go and bring mydinner!"
Barnwell hurried from the presence of the brute; but he could havechoked the life out of him for what he had said.
But, brute that he was, he fell upon the food that was soon placedbefore him, and after gorging himself and washing it down with fieryRussian brandy, he showed more of his brute instincts by becoming morepeaceable, and finally going to sleep in his chair.
Barnwell removed the wreck of the feast as noiselessly as possible, andleft him alone, not daring, however, to go far away, for fear of againexciting his ire, knowing that he had the power to consign him to theunderground mines, or even to kill him like a dog. And so he sat andwaited his pleasure.
But his anxiety was hardly to be mastered, for he wanted a few morewords with Batavsky regarding the solution of the diagram he had givenhim, not knowing whether he would be alive when he might see him next.
What new thoughts crowded themselves into his mind now!
And although his desire to escape was no greater than ever, yet thepossibilities that would now attend it were overwhelming, almost.
But how was he to give force to all this--how could he escape from thatclosely-guarded colony, with armed sentinels at every turn, and trainedbloodhounds ready to follow any scents even if he escaped from theguards. He would be sure to be missed, and the guards knowing nothing ofhis whereabouts, let it be supposed, those savage brutes would bestarted out in every direction until they found his scent, and then runhim down to death from their fangs or for an easy capture.
He had seen too much of it during the terrible year he had lived inSiberia. Many a wretch, ambitious to be free, he had known to set hislife upon the hazard of a chance, and attempt to escape into the Uralmountains, only to be run to bay by those terrible hounds, and eitherkilled by them or dragged back into the captivity sure to be made worsethan before.
And he had seen men have their flesh stripped from their naked backswith the cruel knout, in the hands of unfeeling wretches.
And had he not been buoyed up by hope of one day escaping, he wouldsurely have taken his own life as he had actually seen others do whenhope failed them.
The situation was a dreadful one, even to a criminal; but what was it toan innocent man like William Barnwell? But, after all, it gave nerve tohis heart.
While cogitating thus, Kanoffskie, the chief surgeon, awoke with asnort.
He glared wildly around the room in a startled way.
Barnwell looked at him inquiringly.
"Did you see anything?" he finally asked.
"Nothing unusual, sir."
"Did you hear anything?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Did I cry out in my sleep?"
"No, sir, not that I heard."
"It must have been a nightmare, but it was dreadful," mused Kanoffskie.
"They are sometimes very horrid, sir."
"Very strange. How is old Batavsky?"
"I have not seen him since, sir."
"I thought in my dream that he had me by the throat, and was stranglingme with his bony fingers. And I thought he hissed in my ear that he wasgoing to take me with him. I was powerless in his dreadful grasp, and Ithought he dragged me down, down, through some huge volcano's crater,sulphurous and suffocating, growing hotter and hotter all the while aswe plunged downward, until finally I saw the blue and yellow flames dartup as though to meet and welcome us, and heard the agonized cries ofanguished beings far below! Anon I could see them writhing in theirfiery torment, and I recognized many faces there that I had seen onearth. As I drew nearer they seemed to forget their agonies, and joinedin a glad, wild chorus of imprecating welcome to me. Fiends came at mewith blazing swords and fiery prongs, and in my extreme terror I awoke.Oh, it was dreadful!" he added, hiding his face in his hands.
"It surely must have been, sir, and I have read of such sleepingagonies. But, after all, it was but a dream," said Barnwell.
"Oh, but such a dream! Barnwell, I would not go through the agony ofsuch a dream again for Alexander's crown. You are an educated, well-readman. Tell me, do you believe there is such an awful place?" he asked,and he seemed to have forgotten all his old hauteur.
"Our common religion teaches us that there is."
"Oh, Heaven, forgive and keep me from it," said he, bowing his headabjectly.
"My dear sir, you lay too much stress on an ugly dream. Remember thatyou went to sleep after eating a hearty dinner and they often cause uglydreams," said Barnwell, for thought it would best serve his purpose toattribute it to it might be, rather than to what it probably was--awarning of the future.
"Oh, if I could only think so I would abandon the sin of gluttony atonce. But that terrible face, those bony fingers, which seemed topenetrate my neck like eagle's claws!" and involuntarily he placed hishand upon his neck, as if he really expected to find lacerations there,showing that he was greatly frightened.
"Barnwell, go and see how Batavsky does," he added.
"I will, sir."
"And hurry to let me know."
Barnwell withdrew, and Kanoffskie bowed his head upon the table beforehim, repeating a simple prayer of the Greek Church which he had notquite forgotten.
The young man made haste to Batavsky's cell, but there the old exile,dead, with his eyes staring wide and glassy.
He had died alone, without a friendly hand to close his eyes with aprayer.
In truth, his death at any moment was
not unexpected by Barnwell, butcoming as it did at the very moment of Kanoffskie's dream, made it seemmore strange and horrible.
Indeed, there seemed to be something horribly supernatural about it.
He stood for a moment gazing upon the rigid features of the poor oldman, hardly daring to return and tell Kanoffskie of his death.
"But it serves him right," he thought; and covering the dead man's facewith a blanket, he returned to the surgeon's office.
"Well?" he asked, with quick anxiety.
"The old man is dead, sir."
"Dead--dead, say you?" shrieked Kanoffskie, springing to his feet,trembling and pale.
"Yes, sir, he is dead."
"How--how long since, do you think?" he asked, in a choked voice.
"Probably fifteen or twenty minutes; he is scarcely