The prisoners held out their arms, and one of the soldiers unlocked the manacles with a key and took them off; the other collected them.
After he had passed all the other carriages, Nekhludoff came up to the women's carriages.
From the second of these he heard a woman's groans:
"Oh, oh, oh! O God! Oh, oh! O God!"
Nekhludoff passed this carriage and went up to a window of the third carriage, which a soldier pointed out to him.
When he approached his face to the window, he felt the hot air, filled with the smell of perspiration, coming out of it, and heard distinctly the shrill sound of women's voices.
All the seats were filled with red, perspiring, loudly-talking women, dressed in prison cloaks and white jackets.
Nekhludoff's face at the window attracted their attention.
Those nearest ceased talking and drew closer.
Maslova, in her white jacket and her head uncovered, sat by the opposite window.
The white-skinned, smiling Theodosia sat a little nearer.
When she recognised Nekhludoff, she nudged Maslova and pointed to the window.
Maslova rose hurriedly, threw her kerchief over her black hair, and with a smile on her hot, red face came up to the window and took hold of one of the bars.
"Well, it is hot," she said, with a glad smile.
"Did you get the things?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Is there anything more you want?" asked Nekhludoff, while the air came out of the hot carriage as out of an oven.
"I want nothing, thank you."
"If we could get a drink?" said Theodosia.
"Yes, if we could get a drink," repeated Maslova.
"Why, have you not got any water?"
"They put some in, but it is all gone."
"Directly, I will ask one of the convoy men.
Now we shall not see each other till we get to Nijni."
"Why? Are you going?" said Maslova, as if she did not know it, and looked joyfully at Nekhludoff.
"I am going by the next train."
Maslova said nothing, but only sighed deeply.
"Is it true, sir, that 12 convicts have been done to death?" said a severe-looking old prisoner with a deep voice like a man's.
It was Korableva.
"I did not hear of 12; I have seen two," said Nekhludoff.
"They say there were 12 they killed.
And will nothing be done to them?
Only think! The fiends!"
"And have none of the women fallen ill?" Nekhludoff asked.
"Women are stronger," said another of the prisoners—a short little woman, and laughed; "only there's one that has taken it into her head to be delivered.
There she goes," she said, pointing to the next carriage, whence proceeded the groans.
"You ask if we want anything," said Maslova, trying to keep the smile of joy from her lips; "could not this woman be left behind, suffering as she is?
There, now, if you would tell the authorities."
"Yes, I will."
"And one thing more; could she not see her husband, Taras?" she added, pointing with her eyes to the smiling Theodosia. "He is going with you, is he not?"
"Sir, you must not talk," said a convoy sergeant, not the one who had let Nekhludoff come up.
Nekhludoff left the carriage and went in search of an official to whom he might speak for the woman in travail and about Taras, but could not find him, nor get an answer from any of the convoy for a long time.
They were all in a bustle; some were leading a prisoner somewhere or other, others running to get themselves provisions, some were placing their things in the carriages or attending on a lady who was going to accompany the convoy officer, and they answered Nekhludoff's questions unwillingly.
Nekhludoff found the convoy officer only after the second bell had been rung.
The officer with his short arm was wiping the moustaches that covered his mouth and shrugging his shoulders, reproving the corporal for something or other.
"What is it you want?" he asked Nekhludoff.
"You've got a woman there who is being confined, so I thought best—"
"Well, let her be confined; we shall see later on," and briskly swinging his short arms, he ran up to his carriage.
At the moment the guard passed with a whistle in his hand, and from the people on the platform and from the women's carriages there arose a sound of weeping and words of prayer.
Nekhludoff stood on the platform by the side of Taras, and looked how, one after the other, the carriages glided past him, with the shaved heads of the men at the grated windows.