"Come, Nadia," answered Michael, "and make what use you like of your
brother Nicholas Korpanoff." And he led the girl to the cabin engaged
for her off the saloon.

Michael Strogoff returned on deck, and eager for any news
which might bear on his journey, he mingled in the groups
of passengers, though without taking any part in the conversation.
Should he by any chance be questioned, and obliged to reply,
he would announce himself as the merchant Nicholas Korpanoff,
going back to the frontier, for he did not wish it to be suspected
that a special permission authorized him to travel to Siberia.

The foreigners in the steamer could evidently speak of nothing
but the occurrences of the day, of the order and its consequences.
These poor people, scarcely recovered from the fatigue of a journey
across Central Asia, found themselves obliged to return, and if they
did not give loud vent to their anger and despair, it was because
they dared not. Fear, mingled with respect, restrained them.
It was possible that inspectors of police, charged with watching
the passengers, had secretly embarked on board the Caucasus,
and it was just as well to keep silence; expulsion, after all,
was a good deal preferable to imprisonment in a fortress.
Therefore the men were either silent, or spoke with so much caution
that it was scarcely possible to get any useful information.

Michael Strogoff thus could learn nothing here; but if mouths
were often shut at his approach--for they did not know him--
his ears were soon struck by the sound of one voice, which cared
little whether it was heard or not.