His massive consort, it appeared, invariably
disrobed at night (even in a Lena post-house!), and was not prepared to
receive visitors. Gallantry forbade further discussion, and we shared
the postmaster's dark closet with his wife and five squalling children.
The room, about ten feet by four, possessed the atmosphere of a Turkish
bath, and an odour as though it had, for several months, harboured a
thriving family of ferrets. But with a lady in the question there was
nothing to be done. When we awoke next morning the strange couple had
departed. I never saw them again, but from what I afterwards heard at
Yakutsk their mission to that city was such a shady one that I question
if "Madame's" modesty was not assumed for the occasion.

The remainder of the journey from here to Yakutsk was accomplished
without further incident, and the town of Olekminsk so resembles its
predecessors as to need no description. We reached the place late at
night, but the _ispravnik_ was more hospitably inclined than others we
had met, and gave us supper while the teams were changed. One of the
dishes would certainly have found favour in a Paris restaurant--a fish
called "Nelma," which is found only in the Lena, and is served uncooked
and in thin frozen slices. Ices and champagne terminated the little
repast, which was presided over by our host's pretty wife. The only
other guest was one Vassily Brando, a political exile, whose intimacy
with the _ispravnik_ was strangely at variance with all that I had heard
and read concerning exiles in the remoter parts of Siberia. Brando, a
Jewish-looking person with keen dark eyes, was undergoing a sentence of
eight years here after the usual term of preliminary imprisonment in
Europe. During his incarceration Brando had taught himself English,
which he now spoke almost fluently. This exile told me that Olekminsk
contained twenty other politicals, and was preferred to any other town
or village on the Lena as a place of detention. Neither he nor his
companions could travel for more than ten versts in any direction
without a special permit from the Governor of Yakutsk, but, as the poor
fellow pathetically remarked, "That's no great hardship!" The exiles at
Olekminsk may frequently receive letters and communicate with their
friends (under the supervision of the authorities), and the solace of
modern literature is not denied them so long as it is not connected with
Socialism. Brando was an ardent admirer of Rudyard