“I was following a party of convicts, among whom is a person near to me,” said Nekhludoff.  “And now I come to see Your Excellency about that person, and also another affair.”

The general inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, took a sip of tea, placed his cigarette in a malachite ash-holder, and steadily gazing with his watery, shining eyes at Nekhludoff, listened gravely.  He only interrupted Nekhludoff to ask him if he wished to smoke.

Nekhludoff told the general that the person in whom he was interested was a woman, that she was unjustly convicted, and that His Majesty’s clemency had been appealed to.

“Yes.  Well?” said the general.

“I was promised in St. Petersburg that the news of this woman’s fate would be sent to this place not later than this month.”

Looking steadily at Nekhludoff, the general asked: 

“Anything else?”

“My second request would be concerning the political prisoner who is going to Siberia with this detachment.”

“Is that so?” said the general.

“He is very sick—­he is a dying man.  And he will probably be left here in the hospital; for this reason one of the female prisoners would like to remain with him.”

“Is she a relative of his?”

“No.  But she wishes to marry him, if it will allow her to stay with him.”

The general looked sharply at Nekhludoff from his shining eyes, and, smoking continually, he kept silence, as if wishing to confound his companion.

When Nekhludoff had finished he took a book from the table, and frequently wetting the fingers with which he turned the leaves, he lighted on the chapter treating of marriage and perused it.

“What’s her sentence?” he asked, lifting his eyes from the book.

“Hers?  Hard labor.”

“If this is the case, the sentence cannot be changed by marriage.”

“But——­”

“I beg your pardon!  If a free man would marry her she would have to serve her sentence all the same.  Whose sentence is harder, his or hers?”

“Both are sentenced to hard labor.”

“So they are quits,” the general said, laughing.  “An equal share for both of them.  He may be left here on account of his sickness,” he continued, “and, of course, everything will be done to ameliorate his condition, but she, even if she should marry him, cannot remain here.  Anyhow, I will think it over.  What are their names?  Write them down here.”

Nekhludoff did as he was asked.

“And this I cannot do either,” said the general, concerning his request to see the patient.  “Of course I don’t suspect you, but you are interested in them and in others.  You have money, and the people here are corrupt.  How, then, is it possible for me to watch a person who is five thousand miles distant from me?  There he is king, as I am here,” and he began to laugh.  “You have surely seen the political prisoners.  You have surely given them money,” he added, smiling.  “Isn’t it so?”