"I am a Siberian."

"A native of?"

"Omsk, sire."

"Hast thou relations there?"

"Yes sire."

"What relations?"

"My old mother."

The Czar suspended his questions for a moment. Then, pointing to the
letter which he held in his hand, "Here is a letter which I charge thee,
Michael Strogoff, to deliver into the hands of the Grand Duke,
and to no other but him."

"I will deliver it, sire."

"The Grand Duke is at Irkutsk."

"I will go to Irkutsk."

"Thou wilt have to traverse a rebellious country, invaded by Tartars,
whose interest it will be to intercept this letter."

"I will traverse it."