Section 168. RUSSIAN POLITICAL PRISONERS IN BANISHMENT. IV.
Reading edition
Daily a gendarme visits[1] their lodgings, inspects[2] the premises when and how he pleases[3], and now[4] and then makes some mysterious entry in his note book. Should[5] any of their number carry a warm dinner, a pair of newly-mended boots, or a change of linen to some passing exile lodged for the moment in the police-ward, it is just as likely as not marked against him as a crime. It is a crime to[6] come and see a friend off, or accompany[7] him a little on the way. In[8] fact, should the Ispravnik feel[9] out of sorts—the effect of cards[10] and drink—he[11] vents his bad temper on the exiles; and as[12] cards and drink are the only amusements in these dreary regions, crimes[13] are often marked down against the exiles in astonishing numbers, and[14] a report of them sent to the Governor of the province.
Winter lasts eight months, a[15] period during which the surrounding[16] country presents the appearance of a noiseless[17], lifeless, frozen marsh. No roads, no communication with the outer world, no means of[18] escape. In course of time almost every exile is attacked[19] by nervous convulsions, soon[20] followed by prolonged apathy and complete prostration. Some of them contrive[21] to forge passports, and by a miracle, as[22] it were, make their escape; but the great majority of these victims of the Third Section[23] either go mad, commit suicide, or die of[24] delirium tremens.—James Allen.