either at Omsk or Kolyvan. These unhappy
creatures were not led to the enclosure--already too crowded--but
were forced to remain at the outposts without shelter, almost without
nourishment. What fate was Feofar-Khan reserving for these unfortunates?
Would he imprison them in Tomsk, or would some bloody execution,
familiar to the Tartar chiefs, remove them when they were found too
inconvenient? This was the secret of the capricious Emir.

This army had not come from Omsk and Kolyvan without bringing in its
train the usual crowd of beggars, freebooters, pedlars, and gypsies,
which compose the rear-guard of an army on the march.

All these people lived on the country traversed, and left little of
anything behind them. There was, therefore, a necessity for pushing
forward, if only to secure provisions for the troops. The whole region
between Ichim and the Obi, now completely devastated, no longer offered
any resources. The Tartars left a desert behind them.

Conspicuous among the gypsies who had hastened from the western
provinces was the Tsigane troop, which had accompanied Michael Strogoff
as far as Perm. Sangarre was there. This fierce spy, the tool of Ivan
Ogareff, had not deserted her master. Ogareff had traveled rapidly
to Ichim, whilst Sangarre and her band had proceeded to Omsk by the
southern part of the province.

It may be easily understood how useful this woman was to Ogareff. With
her gypsy-band she could penetrate anywhere. Ivan Ogareff was kept
acquainted with all that was going on in the very heart of the invaded
provinces. There were a hundred eyes, a hundred ears, open in his
service. Besides, he paid liberally for this espionage, from which he
derived so much advantage.

Once Sangarre, being implicated in a very serious affair, had been saved
by the Russian officer. She never forgot what she owed him, and had
devoted herself to his service body and soul.

When Ivan Ogareff entered on the path of treason, he saw at once how
he might turn this woman to account. Whatever order he might give her,
Sangarre would execute it. An inexplicable instinct, more powerful still
than that of gratitude, had urged her to make herself the slave of the
traitor to whom she had been attached since the very beginning of his
exile in Siberia.

Confidante and accomplice, Sangarre, without country, without family,
had been delighted to put her vagabond life to the service of the
invaders thrown by Ogareff on Siberia. To t