'Ah, it's not luck,' the gambler replied. 'Most days I could beat that lot of peasants, but I have run out of rubles!

'Do you want to sell your coat?' asked Wladek.

The gambler was one of the few passengers in the carriage wearing a good, old, thick bearskin coat. He stared at the youth.

'Looking at that suit I'd say you couldn't afford it, boy! Wladek could tell from the man's voice that he hoped he could. 'I would want seventy - five rublm'

'I'll give you forty,' said Wladek.

'Sixty,' said the gambler.

'Fifty,'said Wladek.

'No. Sixty is the least I'd let it go for; it cost over a hundred,'said the gambler.

'A long time ago,' said Wladek, as he considered the implications of taking extra money from inside the lining of his coat in order to secure the full amount needed. He decided against doing - ,o as it would only draw further attention to himself; he would have to wait for another opportunity. Wladek was not willing to show he could not afford the coat, and he - touched the collar of the garment and said, with considerable disdain, 'You paid too much for it, my friend; fifty rubles, not a kopeck more.' Wladek rose as if to leave.

'Wait, wait,' said the gambler. 'I'll let you have it for fifty.'

Wladek took the fifty rubles out of his pocket and the gambler took off his coat and exchanged it for the grimy red note. The coat was far too big for Wladek, nearly touching the ground, but it was exactly what he needed to cover his conspicuous suit. For a few moments, he watched the gambler, back in the game, once again losing. From his new tutor he had learned two things : never to gamble unless the odds are tipped in your favour by superior knowledge or skill, and always to be willing to walk away from a deal when you have reached your limit.

Wladek left the carriage, feeling a little safer under his new - old coat.

He started to examine the layout of the train with a little more confidence. The carriages seemed to be in two classes; general ones where passengers stood or sat on the wooden boards and special ones where they could sit on upholstered seats. Wladek found that all the carriages were packed, with but one exception, a sitting carriage with a solitary woman in it. She was middle - aged, as far as Wladek could tell, and dressed a little more smartly with a little more flesh on her bones than most of the other passengers on the train. She wore a dark blue dress and a scarf over her head. She smiled at Wladek as he stood staring at her, and this gesture gave him the confidence to enter the carriage.

'May I sit downT 'Please do,' said the woman, looking at him carefully.

Wladek (lid not speak again, but studied the woman and the contents of the carriage. She had a sallow skin covered with tired lines, a little overweight - the little bit you could be on Russian food. Her short black hair and brown eyes suggested that she once might have been quite attractive. She had two large cloth bags on the rack and a small valise by her side. D~!spite the danger of his position Wladek was suddenly aware of feeling clesperately tired. He was wondering if he dared to sleep when the woman spoke.

'Where are you travelling?'

The question took Wladek by surprise and he tried to think quickly.

'Moscow,' he said, holding his breath.

'So am 1,'she replied.

Wladek was already regretting the isolation of the carriage and the information he had given. Don't talk to anyone, the doctor had warned I - jLim; remember, trust nobody.

To his relief the woman asked no more questions. As he began to regain his lost confidence, the ticket collector arrived. Wladek started to sweat, despite the temperature being minus twenty degrees. The collector took the woman's ticket, tore it, gave it back to her, and then turned to Wladek.

'Ticket, comracle,' was all he said in a slow, monotonous tone.

Wladek was speechless, and started thumbing around in his coat pocket.

'He's my son,'said the woman firmly.

The ticket collector looked back at the woman, once more at Wladek, and then he bowed to the woman and left the carriage without another word.

Wladek stared at her. 'Thank you,' he breathed, not quite sure what else he could say.

'I watched you come from under the prisoners' train,' the woman remarked quietly. Wladek felt sick. 'But I shall not give you away. I have a young cousin in one of those terrible camps, and all of us fear that one day we might end up there. What do you have on under your coat?'

Wladek weighed the relative merits of dashing out of the carriage and unfastening his coat. If he dashed out of the carriage there was no escape. He unfastened his coat. 'Not as bad as I had feared,' she said. 'What did you do with your prison uniform?'