"But they must have a chief," said the Grand Duke, "who will he be?"
"They wish to recommend to your Highness," said the head of police, "one of their number, who has distinguished himself on several occasions."
"Is he a Russian?"
"Yes, a Russian from the Baltic provinces."
"His name?"
"Is Wassili Fedor."
This exile was Nadia's father. Wassili Fedor, as we have already said, followed his profession of a medical man in Irkutsk. He was clever and charitable, and also possessed the greatest courage and most sincere patriotism. All the time which he did not devote to the sick he employed in organizing the defense. It was he who had united his companions in exile in the common cause. The exiles, till then mingled with the population, had behaved in such a way as to draw on themselves the attention of the Grand Duke. In several sorties, they had paid with their blood their debt to holy Russia—holy as they believe, and adored by her children! Wassili Fedor had behaved heroically; his name had been mentioned several times, but he never asked either thanks or favors, and when the exiles of Irkutsk thought of forming themselves into a special corps, he was ignorant of their intention of choosing him for their captain.
When the head of police mentioned this name, the Grand Duke answered that it was not unknown to him.
"Indeed," remarked General Voranzoff, "Wassili Fedor is a man of worth and courage. His influence over his companions has always been very great."
"How long has he been at Irkutsk?" asked the Duke.
"For two years."
"And his conduct?"
"His conduct," answered the head of police, "is that of a man obedient to the special laws which govern him."
"General," said the Grand Duke, "General, be good enough to present him to me immediately."
The orders of the Grand Duke were obeyed, and before half an hour had passed, Fedor was introduced into his presence. He was a man over forty, tall, of a stern and sad countenance. One felt that his whole life was summed up in a single word—strife—he had striven and suffered.
