cannot stop us."

He clapped his great hand on his thigh with more glee than one would
have expected him to feel; for this man posed as a cynic--a despiser of
men, a scoffer at charity.

"They'll find it very difficult to stop me," muttered Paul Alexis.

It was now dark--as dark as ever it would be. Steinmetz peered through
the gloom toward him with a little laugh--half tolerance, half
admiration.

The country was here a little more broken. Long, low hills, like vast
waves, rose and fell beneath the horses' feet. Ages ago the Volga may
have been here, and, slowly narrowing, must have left these hills in
deposit. From the crest of an incline the horsemen looked down over a
vast rolling tableland, and far ahead of them a great white streak
bounded the horizon.

"The Volga!" said Steinmetz. "We are almost there. And there, to the
right, is the Tversha. It is like a great catapult. Gott! what a
wonderful night! No wonder these Russians are romantic. What a night for
a pipe and a long chair! This horse of mine is tired. He shakes me most
abominably."

"Like to change?" enquired Paul curtly.

"No; it would make no difference. You are as heavy as I, although I am
wider! Ah! there are the lights of Tver."