Paul had never dared to betray his identity.

With the gendarmes--the tchinovniks--they had not deemed it wise to hold communication.
"Stop!" cried Steinmetz suddenly, and Paul pulled the horses on to their haunches.
"I thought you were asleep," he said.
There was no one in sight.

They were driving along the new road now, the high-way Paul had constructed from Osterno to Tver.

The road itself was, of course, indistinguishable, but the telegraph posts marked its course.
Steinmetz tumbled heavily out of his furs and went toward the nearest telegraph post.
"Where is the wire ?" he shouted.
Paul followed him in the sleigh.

Together they peered up into the darkness and the falling snow.