Herzen lifted the woolen curtain of the four-wheeled carriage, revealing faces of young men emaciated by the prolonged prison diet and harsh life, wrapped in the morning fog of the Russian winter.
Who would have thought that just days ago, the Third Bureau labeled these young men as "the poisonous mushrooms of liberalism," yet today, these poisonous mushrooms are being driven from Moscow straight to the imperial capital, Petersburg.
The carriage rocked, and bottles clinked under the sable cloak.
"Gentlemen, remember to hide the vodka bottles snugly in the carriage blankets," Herzen tapped the window with his frostbitten red fingers: "What we are delivering is prohibited alcohol from Vologda Monastery; we can't let the constitutional soldiers confiscate it as tribute."
Just as the carriage passed the Tver checkpoint, Herzen suddenly pulled open the window.
The cold wind blew in the scent of the vodka distillery, causing everyone to sneeze.
