books, or writing-materials; lie could not get even so much as a glimpse of the outside world; and he had absolutely nothing to do except to sit on his bed in that gloomy prison twilight and think. I asked him how long he had been there, and he replied, "Since the 1st of June"—nearly four months. He was detained, Captain Makófski said, to await the decision of a question that had been raised as to the place where he should be colonized. How soon his case would be reached in the Circumlocution Office of the Government nobody knew, and apparently nobody cared. Meanwhile his condition was worse than if he had been in penal servitude. I wished very much to ask him a few questions with regard to his life at the mines of Kará; but I knew that it would be useless to interrogate him in the presence of Captain Makófski, and so, after shaking hands with him again and wishing him a speedy release, I bade him good-by. Ten minutes later, as it was beginning to grow dark in the prison, and as I had seen all that I cared to see, we returned to our hotel. I could not agree with Captain Makófski that the Irkutsk prisons were "in good condition"; but as he did not ask me what I thought of them, I volunteered no opinion.
After we had finished our inspection of the prisons Captain Makófski asked me if I would not like to see the calling out of the fire command at one of the stations. I replied, of course, that I should be very glad to see it. We drove to the fire-engine-house of the second municipal district, and Captain Makófski shouted to the watchman in the fire tower "Trevóga!" [Alarm!]. The watchman pulled a long rope stretched between the tower and the engine-house, and in just two and a half minutes, out came the fire command ready for action. First appeared the guide,—a fireman mounted on a fine gray horse,—next came the engine, a rather clumsy English machine with hand-brakes drawn by two spirited horses, then four large barrels mounted on wheels, and finally a hook-and-ladder truck. The fire com-
