"MICHAEL STROGOFF\n\nOR, THE COURIER OF THE CZAR\n\nby Jules Verne\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE\n\n\n\"SIRE, a fresh dispatch.\"\n\n\"Whence?\"\n\n\"From Tomsk?\"\n\n\"Is the wire cut beyond that city?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire, since yesterday.\"\n\n\"Telegraph hourly to Tomsk, General, and keep me informed of all that\noccurs.\"\n\n\"Sire, it shall be done,\" answered General Kissoff.\n\nThese words were exchanged about two hours after midnight, at the moment\nwhen the fete given at the New Palace was at the height of its splendor.\n\nDuring the whole evening the bands of the Preobra-jensky and Paulowsky\nregiments had played without cessation polkas, mazurkas, schottisches,\nand waltzes from among the choicest of their repertoires. Innumerable\ncouples of dancers whirled through the magnificent saloons of the\npalace, which stood at a few paces only from the \"old house of\nstones\"--in former days the scene of so many terrible dramas, the\nechoes of whose walls were this night awakened by the gay strains of the\nmusicians.\n\nThe grand-chamberlain of the court, was, besides, well seconded in his\narduous and delicate duties. The grand-dukes and their aides-de-camp,\nthe chamberlains-in-waiting and other officers of the palace, presided\npersonally in the arrangement of the dances. The grand duchesses,\ncovered with diamonds, the ladies-in-waiting in their most exquisite\ncostumes, set the example to the wives of the military and civil\ndignitaries of the ancient \"city of white stone.\" When, therefore, the\nsignal for the \"polonaise\" resounded through the saloons, and the guests\nof all ranks took part in that measured promenade, which on occasions\nof this kind has all the importance of a national dance, the mingled\ncostumes, the sweeping robes adorned with lace, and uniforms covered\nwith orders, presented a scene of dazzling splendor, lighted by hundreds\nof lusters multiplied tenfold by the numerous mirrors adorning the\nwalls.\n\nThe grand saloon, the finest of all those contained in the New Palace,\nformed to this procession of exalted personages and splendidly dressed\nwomen a frame worthy of the magnificence they displayed. The rich\nceiling, with its gilding already softened by the touch of time,\nappeared as if glittering with stars. The embroidered drapery of the\ncurtains and doors, falling in gorgeous folds, assumed rich and varied\nhues, broken by the shadows of the heavy masses of damask.\n\nThrough the panes of the vast semicircular bay-windows the light, with\nwhich the saloons were filled, shone forth with the brilliancy of a\nconflagration, vividly illuminating the gloom in which for some hours\nthe palace had been shrouded. The attention of those of the guests not\ntaking part in the dancing was attracted by the contrast. Resting in the\nrecesses of the windows, they could discern, standing out dimly in the\ndarkness, the vague outlines of the countless towers, domes, and spires\nwhich adorn the ancient city. Below the sculptured balconies were\nvisible numerous sentries, pacing silently up and down, their rifles\ncarried horizontally on the shoulder, and the spikes of their helmets\nglittering like flames in the glare of light issuing from the palace.\nThe steps also of the patrols could be heard beating time on the stones\nbeneath with even more regularity than the feet of the dancers on the\nfloor of the saloon. From time to time the watchword was repeated from\npost to post, and occasionally the notes of a trumpet, mingling with\nthe strains of the orchestra, penetrated into their midst. Still farther\ndown, in front of the facade, dark masses obscured the rays of light\nwhich proceeded from the windows of the New Palace. These were boats\ndescending the course of a river, whose waters, faintly illumined by a\nfew lamps, washed the lower portion of the terraces.\n\nThe principal personage who has been mentioned, the giver of the fete,\nand to whom General Kissoff had been speaking in that tone of respect\nwith which sovereigns alone are usually addressed, wore the simple\nuniform of an officer of chasseurs of the guard. This was not\naffectation on his part, but the custom of a man who cared little for\ndress, his contrasting strongly with the gorgeous costumes amid which\nhe moved, encircled by his escort of Georgians, Cossacks, and\nCircassians--a brilliant band, splendidly clad in the glittering\nuniforms of the Caucasus.\n\nThis personage, of lofty stature, affable demeanor, and physiognomy\ncalm, though bearing traces of anxiety, moved from group to group,\nseldom speaking, and appearing to pay but little attention either to\nthe merriment of the younger guests or the graver remarks of the exalted\ndignitaries or members of the diplomatic corps who represented at the\nRussian court the principal governments of Europe. Two or three of these\nastute politicians--physiognomists by virtue of their profession--failed\nnot to detect on the countenance of their host symptoms of disquietude,\nthe source of which eluded their penetration; but none ventured to\ninterrogate him on the subject.\n\nIt was evidently the intention of the officer of chasseurs that his own\nanxieties should in no way cast a shade over the festivities; and, as he\nwas a personage whom almost the population of a world in itself was wont\nto obey, the gayety of the ball was not for a moment checked.\n\nNevertheless, General Kissoff waited until the officer to whom he had\njust communicated the dispatch forwarded from Tomsk should give him\npermission to withdraw; but the latter still remained silent. He had\ntaken the telegram, he had read it carefully, and his visage became even\nmore clouded than before. Involuntarily he sought the hilt of his sword,\nand then passed his hand for an instant before his eyes, as though,\ndazzled by the brilliancy of the light, he wished to shade them, the\nbetter to see into the recesses of his own mind.\n\n\"We are, then,\" he continued, after having drawn General Kissoff aside\ntowards a window, \"since yesterday without intelligence from the Grand\nDuke?\"\n\n\"Without any, sire; and it is to be feared that in a short time\ndispatches will no longer cross the Siberian frontier.\"\n\n\"But have not the troops of the provinces of Amoor and Irkutsk, as those\nalso of the Trans-Balkan territory, received orders to march immediately\nupon Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"The orders were transmitted by the last telegram we were able to send\nbeyond Lake Baikal.\"\n\n\"And the governments of Yeniseisk, Omsk, Semipolatinsk, and Tobolsk--are\nwe still in direct communication with them as before the insurrection?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire; our dispatches have reached them, and we are assured at the\npresent moment that the Tartars have not advanced beyond the Irtish and\nthe Obi.\"\n\n\"And the traitor Ivan Ogareff, are there no tidings of him?\"\n\n\"None,\" replied General Kissoff. \"The head of the police cannot state\nwhether or not he has crossed the frontier.\"\n\n\"Let a description of him be immediately dispatched to Nijni-Novgorod,\nPerm, Ekaterenburg, Kasirnov, Tioumen, Ishim, Omsk, Tomsk, and to all\nthe telegraphic stations with which communication is yet open.\"\n\n\"Your majesty's orders shall be instantly carried out.\"\n\n\"You will observe the strictest silence as to this.\"\n\nThe General, having made a sign of respectful assent, bowing low,\nmingled with the crowd, and finally left the apartments without his\ndeparture being remarked.\n\nThe officer remained absorbed in thought for a few moments, when,\nrecovering himself, he went among the various groups in the saloon, his\ncountenance reassuming that calm aspect which had for an instant been\ndisturbed.\n\nNevertheless, the important occurrence which had occasioned these\nrapidly exchanged words was not so unknown as the officer of the\nchasseurs of the guard and General Kissoff had possibly supposed. It\nwas not spoken of officially, it is true, nor even officiously, since\ntongues were not free; but a few exalted personages had been informed,\nmore or less exactly, of the events which had taken place beyond the\nfrontier. At any rate, that which was only slightly known, that which\nwas not matter of conversation even between members of the corps\ndiplomatique, two guests, distinguished by no uniform, no decoration,\nat this reception in the New Palace, discussed in a low voice, and with\napparently very correct information.\n\nBy what means, by the exercise of what acuteness had these two ordinary\nmortals ascertained that which so many persons of the highest rank and\nimportance scarcely even suspected? It is impossible to say. Had\nthey the gifts of foreknowledge and foresight? Did they possess a\nsupplementary sense, which enabled them to see beyond that limited\nhorizon which bounds all human gaze? Had they obtained a peculiar power\nof divining the most secret events? Was it owing to the habit, now\nbecome a second nature, of living on information, that their mental\nconstitution had thus become really transformed? It was difficult to\nescape from this conclusion.\n\nOf these two men, the one was English, the other French; both were tall\nand thin, but the latter was sallow as are the southern Provencals,\nwhile the former was ruddy like a Lancashire gentleman. The\nAnglo-Norman, formal, cold, grave, parsimonious of gestures and words,\nappeared only to speak or gesticulate under the influence of a spring\noperating at regular intervals. The Gaul, on the contrary, lively and\npetulant, expressed himself with lips, eyes, hands, all at once,\nhaving twenty different ways of explaining his thoughts, whereas his\ninterlocutor seemed to have only one, immutably stereotyped on his\nbrain.\n\nThe strong contrast they presented would at once have struck the most\nsuperficial observer; but a physiognomist, regarding them closely, would\nhave defined their particular characteristics by saying, that if the\nFrenchman was \"all eyes,\" the Englishman was \"all ears.\"\n\nIn fact, the visual apparatus of the one had been singularly\nperfected by practice. The sensibility of its retina must have been as\ninstantaneous as that of those conjurors who recognize a card merely by\na rapid movement in cutting the pack or by the arrangement only of\nmarks invisible to others. The Frenchman indeed possessed in the highest\ndegree what may be called \"the memory of the eye.\"\n\nThe Englishman, on the contrary, appeared especially organized to listen\nand to hear. When his aural apparatus had been once struck by the sound\nof a voice he could not forget it, and after ten or even twenty years he\nwould have recognized it among a thousand. His ears, to be sure, had not\nthe power of moving as freely as those of animals who are provided with\nlarge auditory flaps; but, since scientific men know that human ears\npossess, in fact, a very limited power of movement, we should not be far\nwrong in affirming that those of the said Englishman became erect, and\nturned in all directions while endeavoring to gather in the sounds, in\na manner apparent only to the naturalist. It must be observed that this\nperfection of sight and hearing was of wonderful assistance to these two\nmen in their vocation, for the Englishman acted as correspondent of the\nDaily Telegraph, and the Frenchman, as correspondent of what newspaper,\nor of what newspapers, he did not say; and when asked, he replied in a\njocular manner that he corresponded with \"his cousin Madeleine.\" This\nFrenchman, however, neath his careless surface, was wonderfully shrewd\nand sagacious. Even while speaking at random, perhaps the better to hide\nhis desire to learn, he never forgot himself. His loquacity even helped\nhim to conceal his thoughts, and he was perhaps even more discreet than\nhis confrere of the Daily Telegraph. Both were present at this fete\ngiven at the New Palace on the night of the 15th of July in their\ncharacter of reporters.\n\nIt is needless to say that these two men were devoted to their mission\nin the world--that they delighted to throw themselves in the track of\nthe most unexpected intelligence--that nothing terrified or discouraged\nthem from succeeding--that they possessed the imperturbable sang froid\nand the genuine intrepidity of men of their calling. Enthusiastic\njockeys in this steeplechase, this hunt after information, they\nleaped hedges, crossed rivers, sprang over fences, with the ardor of\npure-blooded racers, who will run \"a good first\" or die!\n\nTheir journals did not restrict them with regard to money--the surest,\nthe most rapid, the most perfect element of information known to this\nday. It must also be added, to their honor, that neither the one nor\nthe other ever looked over or listened at the walls of private life,\nand that they only exercised their vocation when political or social\ninterests were at stake. In a word, they made what has been for some\nyears called \"the great political and military reports.\"\n\nIt will be seen, in following them, that they had generally an\nindependent mode of viewing events, and, above all, their consequences,\neach having his own way of observing and appreciating.\n\nThe French correspondent was named Alcide Jolivet. Harry Blount was the\nname of the Englishman. They had just met for the first time at this\nfete in the New Palace, of which they had been ordered to give an\naccount in their papers. The dissimilarity of their characters, added to\na certain amount of jealousy, which generally exists between rivals\nin the same calling, might have rendered them but little sympathetic.\nHowever, they did not avoid each other, but endeavored rather to\nexchange with each other the chat of the day. They were sportsmen,\nafter all, hunting on the same ground. That which one missed might be\nadvantageously secured by the other, and it was to their interest to\nmeet and converse.\n\nThis evening they were both on the look out; they felt, in fact, that\nthere was something in the air.\n\n\"Even should it be only a wildgoose chase,\" said Alcide Jolivet to\nhimself, \"it may be worth powder and shot.\"\n\nThe two correspondents therefore began by cautiously sounding each\nother.\n\n\"Really, my dear sir, this little fete is charming!\" said Alcide Jolivet\npleasantly, thinking himself obliged to begin the conversation with this\neminently French phrase.\n\n\"I have telegraphed already, 'splendid!'\" replied Harry Blount calmly,\nemploying the word specially devoted to expressing admiration by all\nsubjects of the United Kingdom.\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" added Alcide Jolivet, \"I felt compelled to remark to my\ncousin--\"\n\n\"Your cousin?\" repeated Harry Blount in a tone of surprise, interrupting\nhis brother of the pen.\n\n\"Yes,\" returned Alcide Jolivet, \"my cousin Madeleine. It is with her\nthat I correspond, and she likes to be quickly and well informed, does\nmy cousin. I therefore remarked to her that, during this fete, a sort of\ncloud had appeared to overshadow the sovereign's brow.\"\n\n\"To me, it seemed radiant,\" replied Harry Blount, who perhaps, wished to\nconceal his real opinion on this topic.\n\n\"And, naturally, you made it 'radiant,' in the columns of the Daily\nTelegraph.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"Do you remember, Mr. Blount, what occurred at Zakret in 1812?\"\n\n\"I remember it as well as if I had been there, sir,\" replied the English\ncorrespondent.\n\n\"Then,\" continued Alcide Jolivet, \"you know that, in the middle of a\nfete given in his honor, it was announced to the Emperor Alexander that\nNapoleon had just crossed the Niemen with the vanguard of the\nFrench army. Nevertheless the Emperor did not leave the fete, and\nnotwithstanding the extreme gravity of intelligence which might cost him\nhis empire, he did not allow himself to show more uneasiness.\"\n\n\"Than our host exhibited when General Kissoff informed him that the\ntelegraphic wires had just been cut between the frontier and the\ngovernment of Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"Ah! you are aware of that?\"\n\n\"I am!\"\n\n\"As regards myself, it would be difficult to avoid knowing it, since\nmy last telegram reached Udinsk,\" observed Alcide Jolivet, with some\nsatisfaction.\n\n\"And mine only as far as Krasnoiarsk,\" answered Harry Blount, in a no\nless satisfied tone.\n\n\"Then you know also that orders have been sent to the troops of\nNikolaevsk?\"\n\n\"I do, sir; and at the same time a telegram was sent to the Cossacks of\nthe government of Tobolsk to concentrate their forces.\"\n\n\"Nothing can be more true, Mr. Blount; I was equally well acquainted\nwith these measures, and you may be sure that my dear cousin shall know\nof them to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Exactly as the readers of the Daily Telegraph shall know it also, M.\nJolivet.\"\n\n\"Well, when one sees all that is going on....\"\n\n\"And when one hears all that is said....\"\n\n\"An interesting campaign to follow, Mr. Blount.\"\n\n\"I shall follow it, M. Jolivet!\"\n\n\"Then it is possible that we shall find ourselves on ground less safe,\nperhaps, than the floor of this ball-room.\"\n\n\"Less safe, certainly, but--\"\n\n\"But much less slippery,\" added Alcide Jolivet, holding up his\ncompanion, just as the latter, drawing back, was about to lose his\nequilibrium.\n\nThereupon the two correspondents separated, pleased that the one had not\nstolen a march on the other.\n\nAt that moment the doors of the rooms adjoining the great reception\nsaloon were thrown open, disclosing to view several immense tables\nbeautifully laid out, and groaning under a profusion of valuable\nchina and gold plate. On the central table, reserved for the princes,\nprincesses, and members of the corps diplomatique, glittered an epergne\nof inestimable price, brought from London, and around this chef-d'oeuvre\nof chased gold reflected under the light of the lusters a thousand\npieces of most beautiful service from the manufactories of Sevres.\n\nThe guests of the New Palace immediately began to stream towards the\nsupper-rooms.\n\nAt that moment. General Kissoff, who had just re-entered, quickly\napproached the officer of chasseurs.\n\n\"Well?\" asked the latter abruptly, as he had done the former time.\n\n\"Telegrams pass Tomsk no longer, sire.\"\n\n\"A courier this moment!\"\n\nThe officer left the hall and entered a large antechamber adjoining. It\nwas a cabinet with plain oak furniture, situated in an angle of the New\nPalace. Several pictures, amongst others some by Horace Vernet, hung on\nthe wall.\n\nThe officer hastily opened a window, as if he felt the want of air, and\nstepped out on a balcony to breathe the pure atmosphere of a lovely July\nnight. Beneath his eyes, bathed in moonlight, lay a fortified inclosure,\nfrom which rose two cathedrals, three palaces, and an arsenal. Around\nthis inclosure could be seen three distinct towns: Kitai-Gorod,\nBeloi-Gorod, Zemlianai-Gorod--European, Tartar, and Chinese quarters of\ngreat extent, commanded by towers, belfries, minarets, and the cupolas\nof three hundred churches, with green domes, surmounted by the silver\ncross. A little winding river, here and there reflected the rays of the\nmoon.\n\nThis river was the Moskowa; the town Moscow; the fortified inclosure\nthe Kremlin; and the officer of chasseurs of the guard, who, with folded\narms and thoughtful brow, was listening dreamily to the sounds floating\nfrom the New Palace over the old Muscovite city, was the Czar.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II RUSSIANS AND TARTARS\n\nTHE Czar had not so suddenly left the ball-room of the New Palace,\nwhen the fete he was giving to the civil and military authorities and\nprincipal people of Moscow was at the height of its brilliancy, without\nample cause; for he had just received information that serious events\nwere taking place beyond the frontiers of the Ural. It had become\nevident that a formidable rebellion threatened to wrest the Siberian\nprovinces from the Russian crown.\n\nAsiatic Russia, or Siberia, covers a superficial area of 1,790,208\nsquare miles, and contains nearly two millions of inhabitants. Extending\nfrom the Ural Mountains, which separate it from Russia in Europe, to the\nshores of the Pacific Ocean, it is bounded on the south by Turkestan and\nthe Chinese Empire; on the north by the Arctic Ocean, from the Sea of\nKara to Behring's Straits. It is divided into several governments or\nprovinces, those of Tobolsk, Yeniseisk, Irkutsk, Omsk, and Yakutsk;\ncontains two districts, Okhotsk and Kamtschatka; and possesses two\ncountries, now under the Muscovite dominion--that of the Kirghiz and\nthat of the Tshouktshes. This immense extent of steppes, which includes\nmore than one hundred and ten degrees from west to east, is a land to\nwhich criminals and political offenders are banished.\n\nTwo governor-generals represent the supreme authority of the Czar over\nthis vast country. The higher one resides at Irkutsk, the far capital of\nEastern Siberia. The River Tchouna separates the two Siberias.\n\nNo rail yet furrows these wide plains, some of which are in reality\nextremely fertile. No iron ways lead from those precious mines which\nmake the Siberian soil far richer below than above its surface. The\ntraveler journeys in summer in a kibick or telga; in winter, in a\nsledge.\n\nAn electric telegraph, with a single wire more than eight thousand\nversts in length, alone affords communication between the western\nand eastern frontiers of Siberia. On issuing from the Ural, it passes\nthrough Ekaterenburg, Kasirnov, Tioumen, Ishim, Omsk, Elamsk, Kolyvan,\nTomsk, Krasnoiarsk, Nijni-Udinsk, Irkutsk, Verkne-Nertschink, Strelink,\nAlbazine, Blagowstenks, Radde, Orlomskaya, Alexandrowskoe, and\nNikolaevsk; and six roubles and nineteen copecks are paid for every\nword sent from one end to the other. From Irkutsk there is a branch to\nKiatka, on the Mongolian frontier; and from thence, for thirty copecks a\nword, the post conveys the dispatches to Pekin in a fortnight.\n\nIt was this wire, extending from Ekaterenburg to Nikolaevsk, which had\nbeen cut, first beyond Tomsk, and then between Tomsk and Kolyvan.\n\nThis was why the Czar, to the communication made to him for the second\ntime by General Kissoff, had answered by the words, \"A courier this\nmoment!\"\n\nThe Czar remained motionless at the window for a few moments, when the\ndoor was again opened. The chief of police appeared on the threshold.\n\n\"Enter, General,\" said the Czar briefly, \"and tell me all you know of\nIvan Ogareff.\"\n\n\"He is an extremely dangerous man, sire,\" replied the chief of police.\n\n\"He ranked as colonel, did he not?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire.\"\n\n\"Was he an intelligent officer?\"\n\n\"Very intelligent, but a man whose spirit it was impossible to subdue;\nand possessing an ambition which stopped at nothing, he became involved\nin secret intrigues, and was degraded from his rank by his Highness the\nGrand Duke, and exiled to Siberia.\"\n\n\"How long ago was that?\"\n\n\"Two years since. Pardoned after six months of exile by your majesty's\nfavor, he returned to Russia.\"\n\n\"And since that time, has he not revisited Siberia?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire; but he voluntarily returned there,\" replied the chief of\npolice, adding, and slightly lowering his voice, \"there was a time,\nsire, when NONE returned from Siberia.\"\n\n\"Well, whilst I live, Siberia is and shall be a country whence men CAN\nreturn.\"\n\nThe Czar had the right to utter these words with some pride, for often,\nby his clemency, he had shown that Russian justice knew how to pardon.\n\nThe head of the police did not reply to this observation, but it was\nevident that he did not approve of such half-measures. According to\nhis idea, a man who had once passed the Ural Mountains in charge of\npolicemen, ought never again to cross them. Now, it was not thus under\nthe new reign, and the chief of police sincerely deplored it. What! no\nbanishment for life for other crimes than those against social order!\nWhat! political exiles returning from Tobolsk, from Yakutsk, from\nIrkutsk! In truth, the chief of police, accustomed to the despotic\nsentences of the ukase which formerly never pardoned, could not\nunderstand this mode of governing. But he was silent, waiting until\nthe Czar should interrogate him further. The questions were not long in\ncoming.\n\n\"Did not Ivan Ogareff,\" asked the Czar, \"return to Russia a second time,\nafter that journey through the Siberian provinces, the object of which\nremains unknown?\"\n\n\"He did.\"\n\n\"And have the police lost trace of him since?\"\n\n\"No, sire; for an offender only becomes really dangerous from the day he\nhas received his pardon.\"\n\nThe Czar frowned. Perhaps the chief of police feared that he had gone\nrather too far, though the stubbornness of his ideas was at least\nequal to the boundless devotion he felt for his master. But the Czar,\ndisdaining to reply to these indirect reproaches cast on his policy,\ncontinued his questions. \"Where was Ogareff last heard of?\"\n\n\"In the province of Perm.\"\n\n\"In what town?\"\n\n\"At Perm itself.\"\n\n\"What was he doing?\"\n\n\"He appeared unoccupied, and there was nothing suspicious in his\nconduct.\"\n\n\"Then he was not under the surveillance of the secret police?\"\n\n\"No, sire.\"\n\n\"When did he leave Perm?\"\n\n\"About the month of March?\"\n\n\"To go...?\"\n\n\"Where, is unknown.\"\n\n\"And it is not known what has become of him?\"\n\n\"No, sire; it is not known.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I myself know,\" answered the Czar. \"I have received\nanonymous communications which did not pass through the police\ndepartment; and, in the face of events now taking place beyond the\nfrontier, I have every reason to believe that they are correct.\"\n\n\"Do you mean, sire,\" cried the chief of police, \"that Ivan Ogareff has a\nhand in this Tartar rebellion?\"\n\n\"Indeed I do; and I will now tell you something which you are ignorant\nof. After leaving Perm, Ivan Ogareff crossed the Ural mountains, entered\nSiberia, and penetrated the Kirghiz steppes, and there endeavored, not\nwithout success, to foment rebellion amongst their nomadic population.\nHe then went so far south as free Turkestan; there, in the provinces of\nBokhara, Khokhand, and Koondooz, he found chiefs willing to pour their\nTartar hordes into Siberia, and excite a general rising in Asiatic\nRussia. The storm has been silently gathering, but it has at last burst\nlike a thunderclap, and now all means of communication between Eastern\nand Western Siberia have been stopped. Moreover, Ivan Ogareff, thirsting\nfor vengeance, aims at the life of my brother!\"\n\nThe Czar had become excited whilst speaking, and now paced up and down\nwith hurried steps. The chief of police said nothing, but he thought to\nhimself that, during the time when the emperors of Russia never pardoned\nan exile, schemes such as those of Ivan Ogareff could never have been\nrealized. Approaching the Czar, who had thrown himself into an armchair,\nhe asked, \"Your majesty has of course given orders so that this\nrebellion may be suppressed as soon as possible?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the Czar. \"The last telegram which reached Nijni-Udinsk\nwould set in motion the troops in the governments of Yenisei, Irkutsk,\nYakutsk, as well as those in the provinces of the Amoor and Lake Baikal.\nAt the same time, the regiments from Perm and Nijni-Novgorod, and the\nCossacks from the frontier, are advancing by forced marches towards\nthe Ural Mountains; but some weeks must pass before they can attack the\nTartars.\"\n\n\"And your majesty's brother, his Highness the Grand Duke, is now\nisolated in the government of Irkutsk, and is no longer in direct\ncommunication with Moscow?\"\n\n\"That is so.\"\n\n\"But by the last dispatches, he must know what measures have been\ntaken by your majesty, and what help he may expect from the governments\nnearest Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"He knows that,\" answered the Czar; \"but what he does not know is, that\nIvan Ogareff, as well as being a rebel, is also playing the part of a\ntraitor, and that in him he has a personal and bitter enemy. It is to\nthe Grand Duke that Ogareff owes his first disgrace; and what is\nmore serious is, that this man is not known to him. Ogareff's plan,\ntherefore, is to go to Irkutsk, and, under an assumed name, offer his\nservices to the Grand Duke. Then, after gaining his confidence, when the\nTartars have invested Irkutsk, he will betray the town, and with it my\nbrother, whose life he seeks. This is what I have learned from my secret\nintelligence; this is what the Grand Duke does not know; and this is\nwhat he must know!\"\n\n\"Well, sire, an intelligent, courageous courier...\"\n\n\"I momentarily expect one.\"\n\n\"And it is to be hoped he will be expeditious,\" added the chief of\npolice; \"for, allow me to add, sire, that Siberia is a favorable land\nfor rebellions.\"\n\n\"Do you mean to say. General, that the exiles would make common cause\nwith the rebels?\" exclaimed the Czar.\n\n\"Excuse me, your majesty,\" stammered the chief of police, for that was\nreally the idea suggested to him by his uneasy and suspicious mind.\n\n\"I believe in their patriotism,\" returned the Czar.\n\n\"There are other offenders besides political exiles in Siberia,\" said\nthe chief of police.\n\n\"The criminals? Oh, General, I give those up to you! They are the\nvilest, I grant, of the human race. They belong to no country. But the\ninsurrection, or rather, the rebellion, is not to oppose the emperor; it\nis raised against Russia, against the country which the exiles have\nnot lost all hope of again seeing--and which they will see again. No, a\nRussian would never unite with a Tartar, to weaken, were it only for an\nhour, the Muscovite power!\"\n\nThe Czar was right in trusting to the patriotism of those whom his\npolicy kept, for a time, at a distance. Clemency, which was the\nfoundation of his justice, when he could himself direct its effects,\nthe modifications he had adopted with regard to applications for the\nformerly terrible ukases, warranted the belief that he was not mistaken.\nBut even without this powerful element of success in regard to the\nTartar rebellion, circumstances were not the less very serious; for it\nwas to be feared that a large part of the Kirghiz population would join\nthe rebels.\n\nThe Kirghiz are divided into three hordes, the greater, the lesser,\nand the middle, and number nearly four hundred thousand \"tents,\" or two\nmillion souls. Of the different tribes some are independent and others\nrecognize either the sovereignty of Russia or that of the Khans of\nKhiva, Khokhand, and Bokhara, the most formidable chiefs of Turkestan.\nThe middle horde, the richest, is also the largest, and its encampments\noccupy all the space between the rivers Sara Sou, Irtish, and the Upper\nIshim, Lake Saisang and Lake Aksakal. The greater horde, occupying the\ncountries situated to the east of the middle one, extends as far as the\ngovernments of Omsk and Tobolsk. Therefore, if the Kirghiz population\nshould rise, it would be the rebellion of Asiatic Russia, and the first\nthing would be the separation of Siberia, to the east of the Yenisei.\n\nIt is true that these Kirghiz, mere novices in the art of war, are\nrather nocturnal thieves and plunderers of caravans than regular\nsoldiers. As M. Levchine says, \"a firm front or a square of good\ninfantry could repel ten times the number of Kirghiz; and a single\ncannon might destroy a frightful number.\"\n\nThat may be; but to do this it is necessary for the square of good\ninfantry to reach the rebellious country, and the cannon to leave the\narsenals of the Russian provinces, perhaps two or three thousand versts\ndistant. Now, except by the direct route from Ekaterenburg to Irkutsk,\nthe often marshy steppes are not easily practicable, and some weeks must\ncertainly pass before the Russian troops could reach the Tartar hordes.\n\nOmsk is the center of that military organization of Western Siberia\nwhich is intended to overawe the Kirghiz population. Here are the\nbounds, more than once infringed by the half-subdued nomads, and there\nwas every reason to believe that Omsk was already in danger. The line of\nmilitary stations, that is to say, those Cossack posts which are ranged\nin echelon from Omsk to Semipolatinsk, must have been broken in several\nplaces. Now, it was to be feared that the \"Grand Sultans,\" who govern\nthe Kirghiz districts would either voluntarily accept, or involuntarily\nsubmit to, the dominion of Tartars, Mussulmen like themselves, and\nthat to the hate caused by slavery was not united the hate due to the\nantagonism of the Greek and Mussulman religions. For some time, indeed,\nthe Tartars of Turkestan had endeavored, both by force and persuasion,\nto subdue the Kirghiz hordes.\n\nA few words only with respect to these Tartars. The Tartars belong more\nespecially to two distinct races, the Caucasian and the Mongolian. The\nCaucasian race, which, as Abel de Remusat says, \"is regarded in Europe\nas the type of beauty in our species, because all the nations in this\npart of the world have sprung from it,\" includes also the Turks and the\nPersians. The purely Mongolian race comprises the Mongols, Manchoux, and\nThibetans.\n\nThe Tartars who now threatened the Russian Empire, belonged to the\nCaucasian race, and occupied Turkestan. This immense country is divided\ninto different states, governed by Khans, and hence termed Khanats. The\nprincipal khanats are those of Bokhara, Khokhand, Koondooz, etc. At this\nperiod, the most important and the most formidable khanat was that of\nBokhara. Russia had already been several times at war with its chiefs,\nwho, for their own interests, had supported the independence of the\nKirghiz against the Muscovite dominion. The present chief, Feofar-Khan,\nfollowed in the steps of his predecessors.\n\nThe khanat of Bokhara has a population of two million five hundred\nthousand inhabitants, an army of sixty thousand men, trebled in time\nof war, and thirty thousand horsemen. It is a rich country, with varied\nanimal, vegetable, and mineral products, and has been increased by the\naccession of the territories of Balkh, Aukoi, and Meimaneh. It possesses\nnineteen large towns. Bokhara, surrounded by a wall measuring more than\neight English miles, and flanked with towers, a glorious city, made\nillustrious by Avicenna and other learned men of the tenth century, is\nregarded as the center of Mussulman science, and ranks among the most\ncelebrated cities of Central Asia. Samarcand, which contains the tomb\nof Tamerlane and the famous palace where the blue stone is kept on which\neach new khan must seat himself on his accession, is defended by a very\nstrong citadel. Karschi, with its triple cordon, situated in an oasis,\nsurrounded by a marsh peopled with tortoises and lizards, is almost\nimpregnable, Is-chardjoui is defended by a population of twenty thousand\nsouls. Protected by its mountains, and isolated by its steppes, the\nkhanat of Bokhara is a most formidable state; and Russia would need a\nlarge force to subdue it.\n\nThe fierce and ambitious Feofar now governed this corner of Tartary.\nRelying on the other khans--principally those of Khokhand and Koondooz,\ncruel and rapacious warriors, all ready to join an enterprise so dear\nto Tartar instincts--aided by the chiefs who ruled all the hordes of\nCentral Asia, he had placed himself at the head of the rebellion of\nwhich Ivan Ogareff was the instigator. This traitor, impelled by insane\nambition as much as by hate, had ordered the movement so as to attack\nSiberia. Mad indeed he was, if he hoped to rupture the Muscovite Empire.\nActing under his suggestion, the Emir--which is the title taken by the\nkhans of Bokhara--had poured his hordes over the Russian frontier. He\ninvaded the government of Semipolatinsk, and the Cossacks, who were\nonly in small force there, had been obliged to retire before him. He had\nadvanced farther than Lake Balkhash, gaining over the Kirghiz population\non his way. Pillaging, ravaging, enrolling those who submitted, taking\nprisoners those who resisted, he marched from one town to another,\nfollowed by those impedimenta of Oriental sovereignty which may be\ncalled his household, his wives and his slaves--all with the cool\naudacity of a modern Ghengis-Khan. It was impossible to ascertain where\nhe now was; how far his soldiers had marched before the news of the\nrebellion reached Moscow; or to what part of Siberia the Russian troops\nhad been forced to retire. All communication was interrupted. Had the\nwire between Kolyvan and Tomsk been cut by Tartar scouts, or had the\nEmir himself arrived at the Yeniseisk provinces? Was all the lower part\nof Western Siberia in a ferment? Had the rebellion already spread to the\neastern regions? No one could say. The only agent which fears neither\ncold nor heat, which can neither be stopped by the rigors of winter nor\nthe heat of summer, and which flies with the rapidity of lightning--the\nelectric current--was prevented from traversing the steppes, and it was\nno longer possible to warn the Grand Duke, shut up in Irkutsk, of the\ndanger threatening him from the treason of Ivan Ogareff.\n\nA courier only could supply the place of the interrupted current. It\nwould take this man some time to traverse the five thousand two hundred\nversts between Moscow and Irkutsk. To pass the ranks of the rebels and\ninvaders he must display almost superhuman courage and intelligence. But\nwith a clear head and a firm heart much can be done.\n\n\"Shall I be able to find this head and heart?\" thought the Czar.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III MICHAEL STROGOFF MEETS THE CZAR\n\nTHE door of the imperial cabinet was again opened and General Kissoff\nwas announced.\n\n\"The courier?\" inquired the Czar eagerly.\n\n\"He is here, sire,\" replied General Kissoff.\n\n\"Have you found a fitting man?\"\n\n\"I will answer for him to your majesty.\"\n\n\"Has he been in the service of the Palace?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire.\"\n\n\"You know him?\"\n\n\"Personally, and at various times he has fulfilled difficult missions\nwith success.\"\n\n\"Abroad?\"\n\n\"In Siberia itself.\"\n\n\"Where does he come from?\"\n\n\"From Omsk. He is a Siberian.\"\n\n\"Has he coolness, intelligence, courage?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire; he has all the qualities necessary to succeed, even where\nothers might possibly fail.\"\n\n\"What is his age?\"\n\n\"Thirty.\"\n\n\"Is he strong and vigorous?\"\n\n\"Sire, he can bear cold, hunger, thirst, fatigue, to the very last\nextremities.\"\n\n\"He must have a frame of iron.\"\n\n\"Sire, he has.\"\n\n\"And a heart?\"\n\n\"A heart of gold.\"\n\n\"His name?\"\n\n\"Michael Strogoff.\"\n\n\"Is he ready to set out?\"\n\n\"He awaits your majesty's orders in the guard-room.\"\n\n\"Let him come in,\" said the Czar.\n\nIn a few moments Michael Strogoff, the courier, entered the imperial\nlibrary. He was a tall, vigorous, broad-shouldered, deep-chested man.\nHis powerful head possessed the fine features of the Caucasian race. His\nwell-knit frame seemed built for the performance of feats of strength.\nIt would have been a difficult task to move such a man against his will,\nfor when his feet were once planted on the ground, it was as if they had\ntaken root. As he doffed his Muscovite cap, locks of thick curly hair\nfell over his broad, massive forehead. When his ordinarily pale face\nbecame at all flushed, it arose solely from a more rapid action of the\nheart. His eyes, of a deep blue, looked with clear, frank, firm gaze.\nThe slightly-contracted eyebrows indicated lofty heroism--\"the hero's\ncool courage,\" according to the definition of the physiologist. He\npossessed a fine nose, with large nostrils; and a well-shaped mouth,\nwith the slightly-projecting lips which denote a generous and noble\nheart.\n\nMichael Strogoff had the temperament of the man of action, who does not\nbite his nails or scratch his head in doubt and indecision. Sparing of\ngestures as of words, he always stood motionless like a soldier before\nhis superior; but when he moved, his step showed a firmness, a freedom\nof movement, which proved the confidence and vivacity of his mind.\n\nMichael Strogoff wore a handsome military uniform something resembling\nthat of a light-cavalry officer in the field--boots, spurs, half\ntightly-fitting trousers, brown pelisse, trimmed with fur and ornamented\nwith yellow braid. On his breast glittered a cross and several medals.\n\nMichael Strogoff belonged to the special corps of the Czar's couriers,\nranking as an officer among those picked men. His most discernible\ncharacteristic--particularly in his walk, his face, in the whole man,\nand which the Czar perceived at a glance--was, that he was \"a fulfiller\nof orders.\" He therefore possessed one of the most serviceable qualities\nin Russia--one which, as the celebrated novelist Tourgueneff says, \"will\nlead to the highest positions in the Muscovite empire.\"\n\nIn short, if anyone could accomplish this journey from Moscow to\nIrkutsk, across a rebellious country, surmount obstacles, and brave\nperils of all sorts, Michael Strogoff was the man.\n\nA circumstance especially favorable to the success of his plan was,\nthat he was thoroughly acquainted with the country which he was about\nto traverse, and understood its different dialects--not only from having\ntraveled there before, but because he was of Siberian origin.\n\nHis father--old Peter Strogoff, dead ten years since--inhabited the town\nof Omsk, situated in the government of the same name; and his mother,\nMarfa Strogoff, lived there still. There, amid the wild steppes of the\nprovinces of Omsk and Tobolsk, had the famous huntsman brought up\nhis son Michael to endure hardship. Peter Strogoff was a huntsman by\nprofession. Summer and winter--in the burning heat, as well as when\nthe cold was sometimes fifty degrees below zero--he scoured the frozen\nplains, the thickets of birch and larch, the pine forests; setting\ntraps; watching for small game with his gun, and for large game with the\nspear or knife. The large game was nothing less than the Siberian bear,\na formidable and ferocious animal, in size equaling its fellow of the\nfrozen seas. Peter Strogoff had killed more than thirty-nine bears--that\nis to say, the fortieth had fallen under his blows; and, according to\nRussian legends, most huntsmen who have been lucky enough up to the\nthirty-ninth bear, have succumbed to the fortieth.\n\nPeter Strogoff had, however, passed the fatal number without even a\nscratch. From that time, his son Michael, aged eleven years, never\nfailed to accompany him to the hunt, carrying the ragatina or spear to\naid his father, who was armed only with the knife. When he was fourteen,\nMichael Strogoff had killed his first bear, quite alone--that was\nnothing; but after stripping it he dragged the gigantic animal's skin to\nhis father's house, many versts distant, exhibiting remarkable strength\nin a boy so young.\n\nThis style of life was of great benefit to him, and when he arrived\nat manhood he could bear any amount of cold, heat, hunger, thirst, or\nfatigue. Like the Yakout of the northern countries, he was made of iron.\nHe could go four-and-twenty hours without eating, ten nights without\nsleeping, and could make himself a shelter in the open steppe where\nothers would have been frozen to death. Gifted with marvelous acuteness,\nguided by the instinct of the Delaware of North America, over the white\nplain, when every object is hidden in mist, or even in higher latitudes,\nwhere the polar night is prolonged for many days, he could find his way\nwhen others would have had no idea whither to turn. All his father's\nsecrets were known to him. He had learnt to read almost imperceptible\nsigns--the forms of icicles, the appearance of the small branches of\ntrees, mists rising far away in the horizon, vague sounds in the air,\ndistant reports, the flight of birds through the foggy atmosphere, a\nthousand circumstances which are so many words to those who can decipher\nthem. Moreover, tempered by snow like a Damascus blade in the waters of\nSyria, he had a frame of iron, as General Kissoff had said, and, what\nwas no less true, a heart of gold.\n\nThe only sentiment of love felt by Michael Strogoff was that which he\nentertained for his mother, the aged Marfa, who could never be induced\nto leave the house of the Strogoffs, at Omsk, on the banks of the\nIrtish, where the old huntsman and she had lived so long together. When\nher son left her, he went away with a full heart, but promising to come\nand see her whenever he could possibly do so; and this promise he had\nalways religiously kept.\n\nWhen Michael was twenty, it was decided that he should enter the\npersonal service of the Emperor of Russia, in the corps of the couriers\nof the Czar. The hardy, intelligent, zealous, well-conducted young\nSiberian first distinguished himself especially, in a journey to the\nCaucasus, through the midst of a difficult country, ravaged by some\nrestless successors of Schamyl; then later, in an important mission\nto Petropolowski, in Kamtschatka, the extreme limit of Asiatic Russia.\nDuring these long journeys he displayed such marvelous coolness,\nprudence, and courage, as to gain him the approbation and protection of\nhis chiefs, who rapidly advanced him in his profession.\n\nThe furloughs which were his due after these distant missions, he never\nfailed to devote to his old mother. Having been much employed in the\nsouth of the empire, he had not seen old Marfa for three years--three\nages!--the first time in his life he had been so long absent from her.\nNow, however, in a few days he would obtain his furlough, and he had\naccordingly already made preparations for departure for Omsk, when the\nevents which have been related occurred. Michael Strogoff was therefore\nintroduced into the Czar's presence in complete ignorance of what the\nemperor expected from him.\n\nThe Czar fixed a penetrating look upon him without uttering a word,\nwhilst Michael stood perfectly motionless.\n\nThe Czar, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, motioned to the chief\nof police to seat himself, and dictated in a low voice a letter of not\nmore than a few lines.\n\nThe letter penned, the Czar re-read it attentively, then signed it,\npreceding his name with the words \"Byt po semou,\" which, signifying \"So\nbe it,\" constitutes the decisive formula of the Russian emperors.\n\nThe letter was then placed in an envelope, which was sealed with the\nimperial arms.\n\nThe Czar, rising, told Michael Strogoff to draw near.\n\nMichael advanced a few steps, and then stood motionless, ready to\nanswer.\n\nThe Czar again looked him full in the face and their eyes met. Then in\nan abrupt tone, \"Thy name?\" he asked.\n\n\"Michael Strogoff, sire.\"\n\n\"Thy rank?\"\n\n\"Captain in the corps of couriers of the Czar.\"\n\n\"Thou dost know Siberia?\"\n\n\"I am a Siberian.\"\n\n\"A native of?\"\n\n\"Omsk, sire.\"\n\n\"Hast thou relations there?\"\n\n\"Yes sire.\"\n\n\"What relations?\"\n\n\"My old mother.\"\n\nThe Czar suspended his questions for a moment. Then, pointing to the\nletter which he held in his hand, \"Here is a letter which I charge thee,\nMichael Strogoff, to deliver into the hands of the Grand Duke, and to no\nother but him.\"\n\n\"I will deliver it, sire.\"\n\n\"The Grand Duke is at Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"I will go to Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt have to traverse a rebellious country, invaded by Tartars,\nwhose interest it will be to intercept this letter.\"\n\n\"I will traverse it.\"\n\n\"Above all, beware of the traitor, Ivan Ogareff, who will perhaps meet\nthee on the way.\"\n\n\"I will beware of him.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou pass through Omsk?\"\n\n\"Sire, that is my route.\"\n\n\"If thou dost see thy mother, there will be the risk of being\nrecognized. Thou must not see her!\"\n\nMichael Strogoff hesitated a moment.\n\n\"I will not see her,\" said he.\n\n\"Swear to me that nothing will make thee acknowledge who thou art, nor\nwhither thou art going.\"\n\n\"I swear it.\"\n\n\"Michael Strogoff,\" continued the Czar, giving the letter to the young\ncourier, \"take this letter; on it depends the safety of all Siberia, and\nperhaps the life of my brother the Grand Duke.\"\n\n\"This letter shall be delivered to his Highness the Grand Duke.\"\n\n\"Then thou wilt pass whatever happens?\"\n\n\"I shall pass, or they shall kill me.\"\n\n\"I want thee to live.\"\n\n\"I shall live, and I shall pass,\" answered Michael Strogoff.\n\nThe Czar appeared satisfied with Strogoff's calm and simple answer.\n\n\"Go then, Michael Strogoff,\" said he, \"go for God, for Russia, for my\nbrother, and for myself!\"\n\nThe courier, having saluted his sovereign, immediately left the imperial\ncabinet, and, in a few minutes, the New Palace.\n\n\"You made a good choice there, General,\" said the Czar.\n\n\"I think so, sire,\" replied General Kissoff; \"and your majesty may be\nsure that Michael Strogoff will do all that a man can do.\"\n\n\"He is indeed a man,\" said the Czar.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV FROM MOSCOW TO NIJNI-NOVGOROD\n\nTHE distance between Moscow and Irkutsk, about to be traversed by\nMichael Strogoff, was three thousand four hundred miles. Before the\ntelegraph wire extended from the Ural Mountains to the eastern frontier\nof Siberia, the dispatch service was performed by couriers, those who\ntraveled the most rapidly taking eighteen days to get from Moscow to\nIrkutsk. But this was the exception, and the journey through Asiatic\nRussia usually occupied from four to five weeks, even though every\navailable means of transport was placed at the disposal of the Czar's\nmessengers.\n\nMichael Strogoff was a man who feared neither frost nor snow. He would\nhave preferred traveling during the severe winter season, in order that\nhe might perform the whole distance by sleighs. At that period of the\nyear the difficulties which all other means of locomotion present are\ngreatly diminished, the wide steppes being leveled by snow, while there\nare no rivers to cross, but simply sheets of glass, over which the\nsleigh glides rapidly and easily.\n\nPerhaps certain natural phenomena are most to be feared at that time,\nsuch as long-continuing and dense fogs, excessive cold, fearfully heavy\nsnow-storms, which sometimes envelop whole caravans and cause their\ndestruction. Hungry wolves also roam over the plain in thousands. But\nit would have been better for Michael Strogoff to face these risks; for\nduring the winter the Tartar invaders would have been stationed in the\ntowns, any movement of their troops would have been impracticable, and\nhe could consequently have more easily performed his journey. But it\nwas not in his power to choose either weather or time. Whatever the\ncircumstances, he must accept them and set out.\n\nSuch were the difficulties which Michael Strogoff boldly confronted and\nprepared to encounter.\n\nIn the first place, he must not travel as a courier of the Czar usually\nwould. No one must even suspect what he really was. Spies swarm in a\nrebellious country; let him be recognized, and his mission would be in\ndanger. Also, while supplying him with a large sum of money, which was\nsufficient for his journey, and would facilitate it in some measure,\nGeneral Kissoff had not given him any document notifying that he was on\nthe Emperor's service, which is the Sesame par excellence. He contented\nhimself with furnishing him with a \"podorojna.\"\n\nThis podorojna was made out in the name of Nicholas Korpanoff, merchant,\nliving at Irkutsk. It authorized Nicholas Korpanoff to be accompanied\nby one or more persons, and, moreover, it was, by special notification,\nmade available in the event of the Muscovite government forbidding\nnatives of any other countries to leave Russia.\n\nThe podorojna is simply a permission to take post-horses; but Michael\nStrogoff was not to use it unless he was sure that by so doing he would\nnot excite suspicion as to his mission, that is to say, whilst he was\non European territory. The consequence was that in Siberia, whilst\ntraversing the insurgent provinces, he would have no power over the\nrelays, either in the choice of horses in preference to others, or in\ndemanding conveyances for his personal use; neither was Michael Strogoff\nto forget that he was no longer a courier, but a plain merchant,\nNicholas Korpanoff, traveling from Moscow to Irkutsk, and, as such\nexposed to all the impediments of an ordinary journey.\n\nTo pass unknown, more or less rapidly, but to pass somehow, such were\nthe directions he had received.\n\nThirty years previously, the escort of a traveler of rank consisted of\nnot less than two hundred mounted Cossacks, two hundred foot-soldiers,\ntwenty-five Baskir horsemen, three hundred camels, four hundred horses,\ntwenty-five wagons, two portable boats, and two pieces of cannon. All\nthis was requisite for a journey in Siberia.\n\nMichael Strogoff, however, had neither cannon, nor horsemen, nor\nfoot-soldiers, nor beasts of burden. He would travel in a carriage or on\nhorseback, when he could; on foot, when he could not.\n\nThere would be no difficulty in getting over the first thousand miles,\nthe distance between Moscow and the Russian frontier. Railroads,\npost-carriages, steamboats, relays of horses, were at everyone's\ndisposal, and consequently at the disposal of the courier of the Czar.\n\nAccordingly, on the morning of the 16th of July, having doffed his\nuniform, with a knapsack on his back, dressed in the simple Russian\ncostume--tightly-fitting tunic, the traditional belt of the Moujik,\nwide trousers, gartered at the knees, and high boots--Michael Strogoff\narrived at the station in time for the first train. He carried no arms,\nopenly at least, but under his belt was hidden a revolver and in his\npocket, one of those large knives, resembling both a cutlass and a\nyataghan, with which a Siberian hunter can so neatly disembowel a bear,\nwithout injuring its precious fur.\n\nA crowd of travelers had collected at the Moscow station. The stations\non the Russian railroads are much used as places for meeting, not only\nby those who are about to proceed by the train, but by friends who come\nto see them off. The station resembles, from the variety of characters\nassembled, a small news exchange.\n\nThe train in which Michael took his place was to set him down at\nNijni-Novgorod. There terminated at that time, the iron road which,\nuniting Moscow and St. Petersburg, has since been continued to the\nRussian frontier. It was a journey of under three hundred miles, and the\ntrain would accomplish it in ten hours. Once arrived at Nijni-Novgorod,\nStrogoff would either take the land route or the steamer on the Volga,\nso as to reach the Ural Mountains as soon as possible.\n\nMichael Strogoff ensconced himself in his corner, like a worthy citizen\nwhose affairs go well with him, and who endeavors to kill time by sleep.\nNevertheless, as he was not alone in his compartment, he slept with one\neye open, and listened with both his ears.\n\nIn fact, rumor of the rising of the Kirghiz hordes, and of the Tartar\ninvasion had transpired in some degree. The occupants of the carriage,\nwhom chance had made his traveling companions, discussed the subject,\nthough with that caution which has become habitual among Russians, who\nknow that spies are ever on the watch for any treasonable expressions\nwhich may be uttered.\n\nThese travelers, as well as the large number of persons in the train,\nwere merchants on their way to the celebrated fair of Nijni-Novgorod;--a\nvery mixed assembly, composed of Jews, Turks, Cossacks, Russians,\nGeorgians, Kalmucks, and others, but nearly all speaking the national\ntongue.\n\nThey discussed the pros and cons of the serious events which were taking\nplace beyond the Ural, and those merchants seemed to fear lest\nthe government should be led to take certain restrictive measures,\nespecially in the provinces bordering on the frontier--measures from\nwhich trade would certainly suffer. They apparently thought only of the\nstruggle from the single point of view of their threatened interests.\nThe presence of a private soldier, clad in his uniform--and the\nimportance of a uniform in Russia is great--would have certainly been\nenough to restrain the merchants' tongues. But in the compartment\noccupied by Michael Strogoff, there was no one who seemed a military\nman, and the Czar's courier was not the person to betray himself. He\nlistened, then.\n\n\"They say that caravan teas are up,\" remarked a Persian, known by his\ncap of Astrakhan fur, and his ample brown robe, worn threadbare by use.\n\n\"Oh, there's no fear of teas falling,\" answered an old Jew of sullen\naspect. \"Those in the market at Nijni-Novgorod will be easily cleared\noff by the West; but, unfortunately, it won't be the same with Bokhara\ncarpets.\"\n\n\"What! are you expecting goods from Bokhara?\" asked the Persian.\n\n\"No, but from Samarcand, and that is even more exposed. The idea of\nreckoning on the exports of a country in which the khans are in a state\nof revolt from Khiva to the Chinese frontier!\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied the Persian, \"if the carpets do not arrive, the drafts\nwill not arrive either, I suppose.\"\n\n\"And the profits, Father Abraham!\" exclaimed the little Jew, \"do you\nreckon them as nothing?\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said another; \"goods from Central Asia run a great risk\nin the market, and it will be the same with the tallow and shawls from\nthe East.\"\n\n\"Why, look out, little father,\" said a Russian traveler, in a bantering\ntone; \"you'll grease your shawls terribly if you mix them up with your\ntallow.\"\n\n\"That amuses you,\" sharply answered the merchant, who had little relish\nfor that sort of joke.\n\n\"Well, if you tear your hair, or if you throw ashes on your head,\"\nreplied the traveler, \"will that change the course of events? No; no\nmore than the course of the Exchange.\"\n\n\"One can easily see that you are not a merchant,\" observed the little\nJew.\n\n\"Faith, no, worthy son of Abraham! I sell neither hops, nor eider-down,\nnor honey, nor wax, nor hemp-seed, nor salt meat, nor caviare, nor wood,\nnor wool, nor ribbons, nor, hemp, nor flax, nor morocco, nor furs.\"\n\n\"But do you buy them?\" asked the Persian, interrupting the traveler's\nlist.\n\n\"As little as I can, and only for my own private use,\" answered the\nother, with a wink.\n\n\"He's a wag,\" said the Jew to the Persian.\n\n\"Or a spy,\" replied the other, lowering his voice. \"We had better\ntake care, and not speak more than necessary. The police are not\nover-particular in these times, and you never can know with whom you are\ntraveling.\"\n\nIn another corner of the compartment they were speaking less of\nmercantile affairs, and more of the Tartar invasion and its annoying\nconsequences.\n\n\"All the horses in Siberia will be requisitioned,\" said a traveler,\n\"and communication between the different provinces of Central Asia will\nbecome very difficult.\"\n\n\"Is it true,\" asked his neighbor, \"that the Kirghiz of the middle horde\nhave joined the Tartars?\"\n\n\"So it is said,\" answered the traveler, lowering his voice; \"but who can\nflatter themselves that they know anything really of what is going on in\nthis country?\"\n\n\"I have heard speak of a concentration of troops on the frontier. The\nDon Cossacks have already gathered along the course of the Volga, and\nthey are to be opposed to the rebel Kirghiz.\"\n\n\"If the Kirghiz descend the Irtish, the route to Irkutsk will not be\nsafe,\" observed his neighbor. \"Besides, yesterday I wanted to send\na telegram to Krasnoiarsk, and it could not be forwarded. It's to be\nfeared that before long the Tartar columns will have isolated Eastern\nSiberia.\"\n\n\"In short, little father,\" continued the first speaker, \"these merchants\nhave good reason for being uneasy about their trade and transactions.\nAfter requisitioning the horses, they will take the boats, carriages,\nevery means of transport, until presently no one will be allowed to take\neven one step in all the empire.\"\n\n\"I'm much afraid that the Nijni-Novgorod fair won't end as brilliantly\nas it has begun,\" responded the other, shaking his head. \"But the safety\nand integrity of the Russian territory before everything. Business is\nbusiness.\"\n\nIf in this compartment the subject of conversation varied but\nlittle--nor did it, indeed, in the other carriages of the train--in all\nit might have been observed that the talkers used much circumspection.\nWhen they did happen to venture out of the region of facts, they never\nwent so far as to attempt to divine the intentions of the Muscovite\ngovernment, or even to criticize them.\n\nThis was especially remarked by a traveler in a carriage at the front\npart of the train. This person--evidently a stranger--made good use\nof his eyes, and asked numberless questions, to which he received only\nevasive answers. Every minute leaning out of the window, which he would\nkeep down, to the great disgust of his fellow-travelers, he lost\nnothing of the views to the right. He inquired the names of the most\ninsignificant places, their position, what were their commerce, their\nmanufactures, the number of their inhabitants, the average mortality,\netc., and all this he wrote down in a note-book, already full.\n\nThis was the correspondent Alcide Jolivet, and the reason of his putting\nso many insignificant questions was, that amongst the many answers he\nreceived, he hoped to find some interesting fact \"for his cousin.\" But,\nnaturally enough, he was taken for a spy, and not a word treating of the\nevents of the day was uttered in his hearing.\n\nFinding, therefore, that he could learn nothing of the Tartar invasion,\nhe wrote in his book, \"Travelers of great discretion. Very close as to\npolitical matters.\"\n\nWhilst Alcide Jolivet noted down his impressions thus minutely, his\nconfrere, in the same train, traveling for the same object, was devoting\nhimself to the same work of observation in another compartment. Neither\nof them had seen each other that day at the Moscow station, and they\nwere each ignorant that the other had set out to visit the scene of the\nwar. Harry Blount, speaking little, but listening much, had not inspired\nhis companions with the suspicions which Alcide Jolivet had aroused.\nHe was not taken for a spy, and therefore his neighbors, without\nconstraint, gossiped in his presence, allowing themselves even to go\nfarther than their natural caution would in most cases have allowed\nthem. The correspondent of the Daily Telegraph had thus an opportunity\nof observing how much recent events preoccupied the merchants of\nNijni-Novgorod, and to what a degree the commerce with Central Asia was\nthreatened in its transit.\n\nHe therefore noted in his book this perfectly correct observation, \"My\nfellow-travelers extremely anxious. Nothing is talked of but war, and\nthey speak of it, with a freedom which is astonishing, as having broken\nout between the Volga and the Vistula.\"\n\nThe readers of the Daily Telegraph would not fail to be as well informed\nas Alcide Jolivet's \"cousin.\" But as Harry Blount, seated at the left\nof the train, only saw one part of the country, which was hilly, without\ngiving himself the trouble of looking at the right side, which was\ncomposed of wide plains, he added, with British assurance, \"Country\nmountainous between Moscow and Wladimir.\"\n\nIt was evident that the Russian government purposed taking severe\nmeasures to guard against any serious eventualities even in the interior\nof the empire. The rebel lion had not crossed the Siberian frontier, but\nevil influences might be feared in the Volga provinces, so near to the\ncountry of the Kirghiz.\n\nThe police had as yet found no traces of Ivan Ogareff. It was not known\nwhether the traitor, calling in the foreigner to avenge his personal\nrancor, had rejoined Feofar-Khan, or whether he was endeavoring to\nfoment a revolt in the government of Nijni-Novgorod, which at this time\nof year contained a population of such diverse elements. Perhaps among\nthe Persians, Armenians, or Kalmucks, who flocked to the great market,\nhe had agents, instructed to provoke a rising in the interior. All this\nwas possible, especially in such a country as Russia. In fact, this\nvast empire, 4,000,000 square miles in extent, does not possess the\nhomogeneousness of the states of Western Europe. The Russian territory\nin Europe and Asia contains more than seventy millions of inhabitants.\nIn it thirty different languages are spoken. The Sclavonian race\npredominates, no doubt, but there are besides Russians, Poles,\nLithuanians, Courlanders. Add to these, Finns, Laplanders, Esthonians,\nseveral other northern tribes with unpronounceable names, the Permiaks,\nthe Germans, the Greeks, the Tartars, the Caucasian tribes, the\nMongol, Kalmuck, Samoid, Kamtschatkan, and Aleutian hordes, and one\nmay understand that the unity of so vast a state must be difficult\nto maintain, and that it could only be the work of time, aided by the\nwisdom of many successive rulers.\n\nBe that as it may, Ivan Ogareff had hitherto managed to escape all\nsearch, and very probably he might have rejoined the Tartar army. But\nat every station where the train stopped, inspectors came forward\nwho scrutinized the travelers and subjected them all to a minute\nexamination, as by order of the superintendent of police, these\nofficials were seeking Ivan Ogareff. The government, in fact, believed\nit to be certain that the traitor had not yet been able to quit European\nRussia. If there appeared cause to suspect any traveler, he was carried\noff to explain himself at the police station, and in the meantime the\ntrain went on its way, no person troubling himself about the unfortunate\none left behind.\n\nWith the Russian police, which is very arbitrary, it is absolutely\nuseless to argue. Military rank is conferred on its employees, and\nthey act in military fashion. How can anyone, moreover, help obeying,\nunhesitatingly, orders which emanate from a monarch who has the right to\nemploy this formula at the head of his ukase: \"We, by the grace of God,\nEmperor and Autocrat of all the Russias of Moscow, Kiev, Wladimir, and\nNovgorod, Czar of Kasan and Astrakhan, Czar of Poland, Czar of Siberia,\nCzar of the Tauric Chersonese, Seignior of Pskov, Prince of Smolensk,\nLithuania, Volkynia, Podolia, and Finland, Prince of Esthonia, Livonia,\nCourland, and of Semigallia, of Bialystok, Karelia, Sougria, Perm,\nViatka, Bulgaria, and many other countries; Lord and Sovereign Prince\nof the territory of Nijni-Novgorod, Tchemigoff, Riazan, Polotsk, Rostov,\nJaroslavl, Bielozersk, Oudoria, Obdoria, Kondinia, Vitepsk, and of\nMstislaf, Governor of the Hyperborean Regions, Lord of the countries of\nIveria, Kartalinia, Grou-zinia, Kabardinia, and Armenia, Hereditary Lord\nand Suzerain of the Scherkess princes, of those of the mountains, and\nof others; heir of Norway, Duke of Schleswig-Holstein, Stormarn,\nDittmarsen, and Oldenburg.\" A powerful lord, in truth, is he whose arms\nare an eagle with two heads, holding a scepter and a globe, surrounded\nby the escutcheons of Novgorod, Wladimir, Kiev, Kasan, Astrakhan, and\nof Siberia, and environed by the collar of the order of St. Andrew,\nsurmounted by a royal crown!\n\nAs to Michael Strogoff, his papers were in order, and he was,\nconsequently, free from all police supervision.\n\nAt the station of Wladimir the train stopped for several minutes, which\nappeared sufficient to enable the correspondent of the Daily Telegraph\nto take a twofold view, physical and moral, and to form a complete\nestimate of this ancient capital of Russia.\n\nAt the Wladimir station fresh travelers joined the train. Among others,\na young girl entered the compartment occupied by Michael Strogoff. A\nvacant place was found opposite the courier. The young girl took it,\nafter placing by her side a modest traveling-bag of red leather, which\nseemed to constitute all her luggage. Then seating herself with downcast\neyes, not even glancing at the fellow-travelers whom chance had given\nher, she prepared for a journey which was still to last several hours.\n\nMichael Strogoff could not help looking attentively at his newly-arrived\nfellow-traveler. As she was so placed as to travel with her back to the\nengine, he even offered her his seat, which he might prefer to her own,\nbut she thanked him with a slight bend of her graceful neck.\n\nThe young girl appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen years of age.\nHer head, truly charming, was of the purest Sclavonic type--slightly\nsevere, and likely in a few summers to unfold into beauty rather than\nmere prettiness. From beneath a sort of kerchief which she wore on her\nhead escaped in profusion light golden hair. Her eyes were brown, soft,\nand expressive of much sweetness of temper. The nose was straight,\nand attached to her pale and somewhat thin cheeks by delicately mobile\nnostrils. The lips were finely cut, but it seemed as if they had long\nsince forgotten how to smile.\n\nThe young traveler was tall and upright, as far as could be judged of\nher figure from the very simple and ample pelisse that covered her.\nAlthough she was still a very young girl in the literal sense of the\nterm, the development of her high forehead and clearly-cut features gave\nthe idea that she was the possessor of great moral energy--a point which\ndid not escape Michael Strogoff. Evidently this young girl had already\nsuffered in the past, and the future doubtless did not present itself\nto her in glowing colors; but she had surely known how to struggle\nstill with the trials of life. Her energy was evidently both prompt and\npersistent, and her calmness unalterable, even under circumstances in\nwhich a man would be likely to give way or lose his self-command.\n\nSuch was the impression which she produced at first sight. Michael\nStrogoff, being himself of an energetic temperament, was naturally\nstruck by the character of her physiognomy, and, while taking care\nnot to cause her annoyance by a too persistent gaze, he observed his\nneighbor with no small interest. The costume of the young traveler was\nboth extremely simple and appropriate. She was not rich--that could\nbe easily seen; but not the slightest mark of negligence was to be\ndiscerned in her dress. All her luggage was contained in the leather bag\nwhich, for want of room, she held on her lap.\n\nShe wore a long, dark pelisse, gracefully adjusted at the neck by a\nblue tie. Under this pelisse, a short skirt, also dark, fell over a robe\nwhich reached the ankles. Half-boots of leather, thickly soled, as if\nchosen in anticipation of a long journey, covered her small feet.\n\nMichael Strogoff fancied that he recognized, by certain details, the\nfashion of the costume of Livonia, and thought his neighbor a native of\nthe Baltic provinces.\n\nBut whither was this young girl going, alone, at an age when the\nfostering care of a father, or the protection of a brother, is\nconsidered a matter of necessity? Had she now come, after an already\nlong journey, from the provinces of Western Russia? Was she merely going\nto Nijni-Novgorod, or was the end of her travels beyond the eastern\nfrontiers of the empire? Would some relation, some friend, await her\narrival by the train? Or was it not more probable, on the contrary, that\nshe would find herself as much isolated in the town as she was in this\ncompartment? It was probable.\n\nIn fact, the effect of habits contracted in solitude was clearly\nmanifested in the bearing of the young girl. The manner in which she\nentered the carriage and prepared herself for the journey, the slight\ndisturbance she caused among those around her, the care she took not to\nincommode or give trouble to anyone, all showed that she was accustomed\nto be alone, and to depend on herself only.\n\nMichael Strogoff observed her with interest, but, himself reserved,\nhe sought no opportunity of accosting her. Once only, when her\nneighbor--the merchant who had jumbled together so imprudently in his\nremarks tallow and shawls--being asleep, and threatening her with his\ngreat head, which was swaying from one shoulder to the other, Michael\nStrogoff awoke him somewhat roughly, and made him understand that he\nmust hold himself upright.\n\nThe merchant, rude enough by nature, grumbled some words against \"people\nwho interfere with what does not concern them,\" but Michael Strogoff\ncast on him a glance so stern that the sleeper leant on the opposite\nside, and relieved the young traveler from his unpleasant vicinity.\n\nThe latter looked at the young man for an instant, and mute and modest\nthanks were in that look.\n\nBut a circumstance occurred which gave Strogoff a just idea of\nthe character of the maiden. Twelve versts before arriving at\nNijni-Novgorod, at a sharp curve of the iron way, the train experienced\na very violent shock. Then, for a minute, it ran onto the slope of an\nembankment.\n\nTravelers more or less shaken about, cries, confusion, general disorder\nin the carriages--such was the effect at first produced. It was to\nbe feared that some serious accident had happened. Consequently,\neven before the train had stopped, the doors were opened, and the\npanic-stricken passengers thought only of getting out of the carriages.\n\nMichael Strogoff thought instantly of the young girl; but, while the\npassengers in her compartment were precipitating themselves outside,\nscreaming and struggling, she had remained quietly in her place, her\nface scarcely changed by a slight pallor.\n\nShe waited--Michael Strogoff waited also.\n\nBoth remained quiet.\n\n\"A determined nature!\" thought Michael Strogoff.\n\nHowever, all danger had quickly disappeared. A breakage of the coupling\nof the luggage-van had first caused the shock to, and then the stoppage\nof, the train, which in another instant would have been thrown from the\ntop of the embankment into a bog. There was an hour's delay. At last,\nthe road being cleared, the train proceeded, and at half-past eight in\nthe evening arrived at the station of Nijni-Novgorod.\n\n\n\nBefore anyone could get out of the carriages, the inspectors of police\npresented themselves at the doors and examined the passengers.\n\nMichael Strogoff showed his podorojna, made out in the name of Nicholas\nKorpanoff. He had consequently no difficulty. As to the other travelers\nin the compartment, all bound for Nijni-Novgorod, their appearance,\nhappily for them, was in nowise suspicious.\n\nThe young girl in her turn, exhibited, not a passport, since passports\nare no longer required in Russia, but a permit indorsed with a private\nseal, and which seemed to be of a special character. The inspector read\nthe permit with attention. Then, having attentively examined the person\nwhose description it contained:\n\n\"You are from Riga?\" he said.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the young girl.\n\n\"You are going to Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"By what route?\"\n\n\"By Perm.\"\n\n\"Good!\" replied the inspector. \"Take care to have your permit vised, at\nthe police station of Nijni-Novgorod.\"\n\nThe young girl bent her head in token of assent.\n\nHearing these questions and replies, Michael Strogoff experienced a\nmingled sentiment both of surprise and pity. What! this young girl,\nalone, journeying to that far-off Siberia, and at a time when, to its\nordinary dangers, were added all the perils of an invaded country and\none in a state of insurrection! How would she reach it? What would\nbecome of her?\n\nThe inspection ended, the doors of the carriages were then opened, but,\nbefore Michael Strogoff could move towards her, the young Livonian,\nwho had been the first to descend, had disappeared in the crowd which\nthronged the platforms of the railway station.\n\nCHAPTER V THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS\n\nNIJNI-NOVGOROD, Lower Novgorod, situate at the junction of the Volga and\nthe Oka, is the chief town in the district of the same name. It was here\nthat Michael Strogoff was obliged to leave the railway, which at the\ntime did not go beyond that town. Thus, as he advanced, his traveling\nwould become first less speedy and then less safe.\n\nNijni-Novgorod, the fixed population of which is only from thirty to\nthirty-five thousand inhabitants, contained at that time more than three\nhundred thousand; that is to say, the population was increased tenfold.\nThis addition was in consequence of the celebrated fair, which was held\nwithin the walls for three weeks. Formerly Makariew had the benefit of\nthis concourse of traders, but since 1817 the fair had been removed to\nNijni-Novgorod.\n\nEven at the late hour at which Michael Strogoff left the platform, there\nwas still a large number of people in the two towns, separated by the\nstream of the Volga, which compose Nijni-Novgorod. The highest of\nthese is built on a steep rock, and defended by a fort called in Russia\n\"kreml.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff expected some trouble in finding a hotel, or even an\ninn, to suit him. As he had not to start immediately, for he was going\nto take a steamer, he was compelled to look out for some lodging;\nbut, before doing so, he wished to know exactly the hour at which the\nsteamboat would start. He went to the office of the company whose boats\nplied between Nijni-Novgorod and Perm. There, to his great annoyance,\nhe found that no boat started for Perm till the following day at twelve\no'clock. Seventeen hours to wait! It was very vexatious to a man so\npressed for time. However, he never senselessly murmured. Besides, the\nfact was that no other conveyance could take him so quickly either to\nPerm or Kasan. It would be better, then, to wait for the steamer, which\nwould enable him to regain lost time.\n\nHere, then, was Michael Strogoff, strolling through the town and\nquietly looking out for some inn in which to pass the night. However, he\ntroubled himself little on this score, and, but that hunger pressed\nhim, he would probably have wandered on till morning in the streets\nof Nijni-Novgorod. He was looking for supper rather than a bed. But\nhe found both at the sign of the City of Constantinople. There, the\nlandlord offered him a fairly comfortable room, with little furniture,\nit is true, but not without an image of the Virgin, and a few saints\nframed in yellow gauze.\n\nA goose filled with sour stuffing swimming in thick cream, barley bread,\nsome curds, powdered sugar mixed with cinnamon, and a jug of kwass, the\nordinary Russian beer, were placed before him, and sufficed to satisfy\nhis hunger. He did justice to the meal, which was more than could be\nsaid of his neighbor at table, who, having, in his character of \"old\nbeliever\" of the sect of Raskalniks, made the vow of abstinence,\nrejected the potatoes in front of him, and carefully refrained from\nputting sugar in his tea.\n\nHis supper finished, Michael Strogoff, instead of going up to his\nbedroom, again strolled out into the town. But, although the long\ntwilight yet lingered, the crowd was already dispersing, the streets\nwere gradually becoming empty, and at length everyone retired to his\ndwelling.\n\nWhy did not Michael Strogoff go quietly to bed, as would have seemed\nmore reasonable after a long railway journey? Was he thinking of the\nyoung Livonian girl who had been his traveling companion? Having nothing\nbetter to do, he WAS thinking of her. Did he fear that, lost in this\nbusy city, she might be exposed to insult? He feared so, and with\ngood reason. Did he hope to meet her, and, if need were, to afford her\nprotection? No. To meet would be difficult. As to protection--what right\nhad he--\n\n\"Alone,\" he said to himself, \"alone, in the midst of these wandering\ntribes! And yet the present dangers are nothing compared to those she\nmust undergo. Siberia! Irkutsk! I am about to dare all risks for Russia,\nfor the Czar, while she is about to do so--For whom? For what? She is\nauthorized to cross the frontier! The country beyond is in revolt! The\nsteppes are full of Tartar bands!\"\n\nMichael Strogoff stopped for an instant, and reflected.\n\n\"Without doubt,\" thought he, \"she must have determined on undertaking\nher journey before the invasion. Perhaps she is even now ignorant of\nwhat is happening. But no, that cannot be; the merchants discussed\nbefore her the disturbances in Siberia--and she did not seem surprised.\nShe did not even ask an explanation. She must have known it then, and\nknowing it, is still resolute. Poor girl! Her motive for the journey\nmust be urgent indeed! But though she may be brave--and she certainly\nis so--her strength must fail her, and, to say nothing of dangers and\nobstacles, she will be unable to endure the fatigue of such a journey.\nNever can she reach Irkutsk!\"\n\nIndulging in such reflections, Michael Strogoff wandered on as chance\nled him; being well acquainted with the town, he knew that he could\neasily retrace his steps.\n\nHaving strolled on for about an hour, he seated himself on a bench\nagainst the wall of a large wooden cottage, which stood, with many\nothers, on a vast open space. He had scarcely been there five minutes\nwhen a hand was laid heavily on his shoulder.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" roughly demanded a tall and powerful man, who\nhad approached unperceived.\n\n\"I am resting,\" replied Michael Strogoff.\n\n\"Do you mean to stay all night on the bench?\"\n\n\"Yes, if I feel inclined to do so,\" answered Michael Strogoff, in a tone\nsomewhat too sharp for the simple merchant he wished to personate.\n\n\"Come forward, then, so I can see you,\" said the man.\n\nMichael Strogoff, remembering that, above all, prudence was requisite,\ninstinctively drew back. \"It is not necessary,\" he replied, and calmly\nstepped back ten paces.\n\nThe man seemed, as Michael observed him well, to have the look of\na Bohemian, such as are met at fairs, and with whom contact, either\nphysical or moral, is unpleasant. Then, as he looked more attentively\nthrough the dusk, he perceived, near the cottage, a large caravan, the\nusual traveling dwelling of the Zingaris or gypsies, who swarm in Russia\nwherever a few copecks can be obtained.\n\nAs the gypsy took two or three steps forward, and was about to\ninterrogate Michael Strogoff more closely, the door of the cottage\nopened. He could just see a woman, who spoke quickly in a language which\nMichael Strogoff knew to be a mixture of Mongol and Siberian.\n\n\"Another spy! Let him alone, and come to supper. The papluka is waiting\nfor you.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff could not help smiling at the epithet bestowed on him,\ndreading spies as he did above all else.\n\nIn the same dialect, although his accent was very different, the\nBohemian replied in words which signify, \"You are right, Sangarre!\nBesides, we start to-morrow.\"\n\n\"To-morrow?\" repeated the woman in surprise.\n\n\"Yes, Sangarre,\" replied the Bohemian; \"to-morrow, and the Father\nhimself sends us--where we are going!\"\n\nThereupon the man and woman entered the cottage, and carefully closed\nthe door.\n\n\"Good!\" said Michael Strogoff, to himself; \"if these gipsies do not wish\nto be understood when they speak before me, they had better use some\nother language.\"\n\nFrom his Siberian origin, and because he had passed his childhood in the\nSteppes, Michael Strogoff, it has been said, understood almost all\nthe languages in usage from Tartary to the Sea of Ice. As to the exact\nsignification of the words he had heard, he did not trouble his head.\nFor why should it interest him?\n\nIt was already late when he thought of returning to his inn to take some\nrepose. He followed, as he did so, the course of the Volga, whose waters\nwere almost hidden under the countless number of boats floating on its\nbosom.\n\nAn hour after, Michael Strogoff was sleeping soundly on one of those\nRussian beds which always seem so hard to strangers, and on the morrow,\nthe 17th of July, he awoke at break of day.\n\nHe had still five hours to pass in Nijni-Novgorod; it seemed to him an\nage. How was he to spend the morning unless in wandering, as he had done\nthe evening before, through the streets? By the time he had finished\nhis breakfast, strapped up his bag, had his podorojna inspected at the\npolice office, he would have nothing to do but start. But he was not a\nman to lie in bed after the sun had risen; so he rose, dressed himself,\nplaced the letter with the imperial arms on it carefully at the bottom\nof its usual pocket within the lining of his coat, over which he\nfastened his belt; he then closed his bag and threw it over his\nshoulder. This done, he had no wish to return to the City of\nConstantinople, and intending to breakfast on the bank of the Volga near\nthe wharf, he settled his bill and left the inn. By way of precaution,\nMichael Strogoff went first to the office of the steam-packet company,\nand there made sure that the Caucasus would start at the appointed hour.\nAs he did so, the thought for the first time struck him that, since the\nyoung Livonian girl was going to Perm, it was very possible that her\nintention was also to embark in the Caucasus, in which case he should\naccompany her.\n\nThe town above with its kremlin, whose circumference measures two\nversts, and which resembles that of Moscow, was altogether abandoned.\nEven the governor did not reside there. But if the town above was like a\ncity of the dead, the town below, at all events, was alive.\n\nMichael Strogoff, having crossed the Volga on a bridge of boats, guarded\nby mounted Cossacks, reached the square where the evening before he had\nfallen in with the gipsy camp. This was somewhat outside the town, where\nthe fair of Nijni-Novgorod was held. In a vast plain rose the temporary\npalace of the governor-general, where by imperial orders that great\nfunctionary resided during the whole of the fair, which, thanks to the\npeople who composed it, required an ever-watchful surveillance.\n\nThis plain was now covered with booths symmetrically arranged in such\na manner as to leave avenues broad enough to allow the crowd to pass\nwithout a crush.\n\nEach group of these booths, of all sizes and shapes, formed a separate\nquarter particularly dedicated to some special branch of commerce. There\nwas the iron quarter, the furriers' quarter, the woolen quarter, the\nquarter of the wood merchants, the weavers' quarter, the dried fish\nquarter, etc. Some booths were even built of fancy materials, some of\nbricks of tea, others of masses of salt meat--that is to say, of\nsamples of the goods which the owners thus announced were there to the\npurchasers--a singular, and somewhat American, mode of advertisement.\n\nIn the avenues and long alleys there was already a large assemblage of\npeople--the sun, which had risen at four o'clock, being well above the\nhorizon--an extraordinary mixture of Europeans and Asiatics, talking,\nwrangling, haranguing, and bargaining. Everything which can be bought\nor sold seemed to be heaped up in this square. Furs, precious stones,\nsilks, Cashmere shawls, Turkey carpets, weapons from the Caucasus,\ngauzes from Smyrna and Ispahan. Tiflis armor, caravan teas. European\nbronzes, Swiss clocks, velvets and silks from Lyons, English cottons,\nharness, fruits, vegetables, minerals from the Ural, malachite,\nlapis-lazuli, spices, perfumes, medicinal herbs, wood, tar, rope, horn,\npumpkins, water-melons, etc--all the products of India, China, Persia,\nfrom the shores of the Caspian and the Black Sea, from America and\nEurope, were united at this corner of the globe.\n\nIt is scarcely possible truly to portray the moving mass of human beings\nsurging here and there, the excitement, the confusion, the hubbub;\ndemonstrative as were the natives and the inferior classes, they were\ncompletely outdone by their visitors. There were merchants from Central\nAsia, who had occupied a year in escorting their merchandise across its\nvast plains, and who would not again see their shops and counting-houses\nfor another year to come. In short, of such importance is this fair of\nNijni-Novgorod, that the sum total of its transactions amounts yearly to\nnearly a hundred million dollars.\n\nOn one of the open spaces between the quarters of this temporary city\nwere numbers of mountebanks of every description; gypsies from the\nmountains, telling fortunes to the credulous fools who are ever to\nbe found in such assemblies; Zingaris or Tsiganes--a name which the\nRussians give to the gypsies who are the descendants of the ancient\nCopts--singing their wildest melodies and dancing their most original\ndances; comedians of foreign theaters, acting Shakespeare, adapted to\nthe taste of spectators who crowded to witness them. In the long avenues\nthe bear showmen accompanied their four-footed dancers, menageries\nresounded with the hoarse cries of animals under the influence of the\nstinging whip or red-hot irons of the tamer; and, besides all these\nnumberless performers, in the middle of the central square, surrounded\nby a circle four deep of enthusiastic amateurs, was a band of \"mariners\nof the Volga,\" sitting on the ground, as on the deck of their vessel,\nimitating the action of rowing, guided by the stick of the master of the\norchestra, the veritable helmsman of this imaginary vessel! A whimsical\nand pleasing custom!\n\nSuddenly, according to a time-honored observance in the fair of\nNijni-Novgorod, above the heads of the vast concourse a flock of birds\nwas allowed to escape from the cages in which they had been brought to\nthe spot. In return for a few copecks charitably offered by some good\npeople, the bird-fanciers opened the prison doors of their captives, who\nflew out in hundreds, uttering their joyous notes.\n\nIt should be mentioned that England and France, at all events, were this\nyear represented at the great fair of Nijni-Novgorod by two of the most\ndistinguished products of modern civilization, Messrs. Harry Blount\nand Alcide Jolivet. Jolivet, an optimist by nature, found everything\nagreeable, and as by chance both lodging and food were to his taste,\nhe jotted down in his book some memoranda particularly favorable to the\ntown of Nijni-Novgorod. Blount, on the contrary, having in vain hunted\nfor a supper, had been obliged to find a resting-place in the open\nair. He therefore looked at it all from another point of view, and was\npreparing an article of the most withering character against a town in\nwhich the landlords of the inns refused to receive travelers who only\nbegged leave to be flayed, \"morally and physically.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his\ncherry-stemmed pipe, appeared the most indifferent and least impatient\nof men; yet, from a certain contraction of his eyebrows every now and\nthen, a careful observer would have seen that he was burning to be off.\n\nFor two hours he kept walking about the streets, only to find himself\ninvariably at the fair again. As he passed among the groups of buyers\nand sellers he discovered that those who came from countries on the\nconfines of Asia manifested great uneasiness. Their trade was visibly\nsuffering. Another symptom also was marked. In Russia military uniforms\nappear on every occasion. Soldiers are wont to mix freely with the\ncrowd, the police agents being almost invariably aided by a number\nof Cossacks, who, lance on shoulder, keep order in the crowd of three\nhundred thousand strangers. But on this occasion the soldiers, Cossacks\nand the rest, did not put in an appearance at the great market.\nDoubtless, a sudden order to move having been foreseen, they were\nrestricted to their barracks.\n\nMoreover, while no soldiers were to be seen, it was not so with their\nofficers. Since the evening before, aides-decamp, leaving the governor's\npalace, galloped in every direction. An unusual movement was going\nforward which a serious state of affairs could alone account for. There\nwere innumerable couriers on the roads both to Wladimir and to the\nUral Mountains. The exchange of telegraphic dispatches with Moscow was\nincessant.\n\nMichael Strogoff found himself in the central square when the report\nspread that the head of police had been summoned by a courier to the\npalace of the governor-general. An important dispatch from Moscow, it\nwas said, was the cause of it.\n\n\"The fair is to be closed,\" said one.\n\n\"The regiment of Nijni-Novgorod has received the route,\" declared\nanother.\n\n\"They say that the Tartars menace Tomsk!\"\n\n\"Here is the head of police!\" was shouted on every side. A loud clapping\nof hands was suddenly raised, which subsided by degrees, and finally was\nsucceeded by absolute silence. The head of police arrived in the middle\nof the central square, and it was seen by all that he held in his hand a\ndispatch.\n\nThen, in a loud voice, he read the following announcements: \"By order of\nthe Governor of Nijni-Novgorod.\n\n\"1st. All Russian subjects are forbidden to quit the province upon any\npretext whatsoever.\n\n\"2nd. All strangers of Asiatic origin are commanded to leave the\nprovince within twenty-four hours.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI BROTHER AND SISTER\n\nHOWEVER disastrous these measures might be to private interests, they\nwere, under the circumstances, perfectly justifiable.\n\n\"All Russian subjects are forbidden to leave the province;\" if Ivan\nOgareff was still in the province, this would at any rate prevent him,\nunless with the greatest difficulty, from rejoining Feofar-Khan, and\nbecoming a very formidable lieutenant to the Tartar chief.\n\n\"All foreigners of Asiatic origin are ordered to leave the province in\nfour-and-twenty hours;\" this would send off in a body all the traders\nfrom Central Asia, as well as the bands of Bohemians, gipsies, etc.,\nhaving more or less sympathy with the Tartars. So many heads, so many\nspies--undoubtedly affairs required their expulsion.\n\nIt is easy to understand the effect produced by these two thunder-claps\nbursting over a town like Nijni-Novgorod, so densely crowded with\nvisitors, and with a commerce so greatly surpassing that of all other\nplaces in Russia. The natives whom business called beyond the Siberian\nfrontier could not leave the province for a time at least. The tenor of\nthe first article of the order was express; it admitted of no exception.\nAll private interests must yield to the public weal. As to the second\narticle of the proclamation, the order of expulsion which it contained\nadmitted of no evasion either. It only concerned foreigners of Asiatic\norigin, but these could do nothing but pack up their merchandise and\ngo back the way they came. As to the mountebanks, of which there were a\nconsiderable number, they had nearly a thousand versts to go before they\ncould reach the nearest frontier. For them it was simply misery.\n\nAt first there rose against this unusual measure a murmur of\nprotestation, a cry of despair, but this was quickly suppressed by the\npresence of the Cossacks and agents of police. Immediately, what might\nbe called the exodus from the immense plain began. The awnings in front\nof the stalls were folded up; the theaters were taken to pieces;\nthe fires were put out; the acrobats' ropes were lowered; the old\nbroken-winded horses of the traveling vans came back from their sheds.\nAgents and soldiers with whip or stick stimulated the tardy ones, and\nmade nothing of pulling down the tents even before the poor Bohemians\nhad left them.\n\nUnder these energetic measures the square of Nijni-Novgorod would, it\nwas evident, be entirely evacuated before the evening, and to the tumult\nof the great fair would succeed the silence of the desert.\n\nIt must again be repeated--for it was a necessary aggravation of these\nsevere measures--that to all those nomads chiefly concerned in the order\nof expulsion even the steppes of Siberia were forbidden, and they would\nbe obliged to hasten to the south of the Caspian Sea, either to Persia,\nTurkey, or the plains of Turkestan. The post of the Ural, and the\nmountains which form, as it were, a prolongation of the river along the\nRussian frontier, they were not allowed to pass. They were therefore\nunder the necessity of traveling six hundred miles before they could\ntread a free soil.\n\nJust as the reading of the proclamation by the head of the police\ncame to an end, an idea darted instinctively into the mind of Michael\nStrogoff. \"What a singular coincidence,\" thought he, \"between this\nproclamation expelling all foreigners of Asiatic origin, and the words\nexchanged last evening between those two gipsies of the Zingari race.\n'The Father himself sends us where we wish to go,' that old man said.\nBut 'the Father' is the emperor! He is never called anything else among\nthe people. How could those gipsies have foreseen the measure taken\nagainst them? how could they have known it beforehand, and where do they\nwish to go? Those are suspicious people, and it seems to me that to them\nthe government proclamation must be more useful than injurious.\"\n\nBut these reflections were completely dispelled by another which drove\nevery other thought out of Michael's mind. He forgot the Zingaris,\ntheir suspicious words, the strange coincidence which resulted from the\nproclamation. The remembrance of the young Livonian girl suddenly rushed\ninto his mind. \"Poor child!\" he thought to himself. \"She cannot now\ncross the frontier.\"\n\nIn truth the young girl was from Riga; she was Livonian, consequently\nRussian, and now could not leave Russian territory! The permit which\nhad been given her before the new measures had been promulgated was no\nlonger available. All the routes to Siberia had just been pitilessly\nclosed to her, and, whatever the motive taking her to Irkutsk, she was\nnow forbidden to go there.\n\nThis thought greatly occupied Michael Strogoff. He said to himself,\nvaguely at first, that, without neglecting anything of what was due to\nhis important mission, it would perhaps be possible for him to be of\nsome use to this brave girl; and this idea pleased him. Knowing how\nserious were the dangers which he, an energetic and vigorous man, would\nhave personally to encounter, he could not conceal from himself how\ninfinitely greater they would prove to a young unprotected girl. As she\nwas going to Irkutsk, she would be obliged to follow the same road as\nhimself, she would have to pass through the bands of invaders, as he was\nabout to attempt doing himself. If, moreover, she had at her\ndisposal only the money necessary for a journey taken under ordinary\ncircumstances, how could she manage to accomplish it under conditions\nwhich made it not only perilous but expensive?\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"if she takes the route to Perm, it is nearly\nimpossible but that I shall fall in with her. Then, I will watch over\nher without her suspecting it; and as she appears to me as anxious as\nmyself to reach Irkutsk, she will cause me no delay.\"\n\nBut one thought leads to another. Michael Strogoff had till now thought\nonly of doing a kind action; but now another idea flashed into his\nbrain; the question presented itself under quite a new aspect.\n\n\"The fact is,\" said he to himself, \"that I have much more need of her\nthan she can have of me. Her presence will be useful in drawing off\nsuspicion from me. A man traveling alone across the steppe, may be\neasily guessed to be a courier of the Czar. If, on the contrary, this\nyoung girl accompanies me, I shall appear, in the eyes of all, the\nNicholas Korpanoff of my podorojna. Therefore, she must accompany me.\nTherefore, I must find her again at any cost. It is not probable that\nsince yesterday evening she has been able to get a carriage and leave\nNijni-Novgorod. I must look for her. And may God guide me!\"\n\nMichael left the great square of Nijni-Novgorod, where the tumult\nproduced by the carrying out of the prescribed measures had now reached\nits height. Recriminations from the banished strangers, shouts from the\nagents and Cossacks who were using them so brutally, together made an\nindescribable uproar. The girl for whom he searched could not be there.\nIt was now nine o'clock in the morning. The steamboat did not start till\ntwelve. Michael Strogoff had therefore nearly two hours to employ in\nsearching for her whom he wished to make his traveling companion.\n\nHe crossed the Volga again and hunted through the quarters on the\nother side, where the crowd was much less considerable. He entered\nthe churches, the natural refuge for all who weep, for all who suffer.\nNowhere did he meet with the young Livonian.\n\n\"And yet,\" he repeated, \"she could not have left Nijni-Novgorod yet.\nWe'll have another look.\" He wandered about thus for two hours. He went\non without stopping, feeling no fatigue, obeying a potent instinct which\nallowed no room for thought. All was in vain.\n\nIt then occurred to him that perhaps the girl had not heard of the\norder--though this was improbable enough, for such a thunder-clap could\nnot have burst without being heard by all. Evidently interested in\nknowing the smallest news from Siberia, how could she be ignorant of\nthe measures taken by the governor, measures which concerned her so\ndirectly?\n\nBut, if she was ignorant of it, she would come in an hour to the quay,\nand there some merciless agent would refuse her a passage! At any cost,\nhe must see her beforehand, and enable her to avoid such a repulse.\n\nBut all his endeavors were in vain, and he at length almost despaired\nof finding her again. It was eleven o'clock, and Michael thought of\npresenting his podorojna at the office of the head of police. The\nproclamation evidently did not concern him, since the emergency had been\nforeseen for him, but he wished to make sure that nothing would hinder\nhis departure from the town.\n\nMichael then returned to the other side of the Volga, to the quarter\nin which was the office of the head of police. An immense crowd was\ncollected there; for though all foreigners were ordered to quit the\nprovince, they had notwithstanding to go through certain forms before\nthey could depart.\n\nWithout this precaution, some Russian more or less implicated in\nthe Tartar movement would have been able, in a disguise, to pass\nthe frontier--just those whom the order wished to prevent going. The\nstrangers were sent away, but still had to gain permission to go.\n\nMountebanks, gypsies, Tsiganes, Zingaris, mingled with merchants from\nPersia, Turkey, India, Turkestan, China, filled the court and offices of\nthe police station.\n\nEveryone was in a hurry, for the means of transport would be much sought\nafter among this crowd of banished people, and those who did not set\nabout it soon ran a great risk of not being able to leave the town in\nthe prescribed time, which would expose them to some brutal treatment\nfrom the governor's agents.\n\nOwing to the strength of his elbows Michael was able to cross the court.\nBut to get into the office and up to the clerk's little window was a\nmuch more difficult business. However, a word into an inspector's ear\nand a few judiciously given roubles were powerful enough to gain him a\npassage. The man, after taking him into the waiting-room, went to call\nan upper clerk. Michael Strogoff would not be long in making everything\nright with the police and being free in his movements.\n\nWhilst waiting, he looked about him, and what did he see? There, fallen,\nrather than seated, on a bench, was a girl, prey to a silent despair,\nalthough her face could scarcely be seen, the profile alone being\nvisible against the wall. Michael Strogoff could not be mistaken. He\ninstantly recognized the young Livonian.\n\nNot knowing the governor's orders, she had come to the police office\nto get her pass signed. They had refused to sign it. No doubt she was\nauthorized to go to Irkutsk, but the order was peremptory--it annulled\nall previous au-thorizations, and the routes to Siberia were closed to\nher. Michael, delighted at having found her again, approached the girl.\n\nShe looked up for a moment and her face brightened on recognizing her\ntraveling companion. She instinctively rose and, like a drowning man who\nclutches at a spar, she was about to ask his help.\n\nAt that moment the agent touched Michael on the shoulder, \"The head of\npolice will see you,\" he said.\n\n\"Good,\" returned Michael. And without saying a word to her for whom he\nhad been searching all day, without reassuring her by even a gesture,\nwhich might compromise either her or himself, he followed the man.\n\nThe young Livonian, seeing the only being to whom she could look for\nhelp disappear, fell back again on her bench.\n\nThree minutes had not passed before Michael Strogoff reappeared,\naccompanied by the agent. In his hand he held his podorojna, which\nthrew open the roads to Siberia for him. He again approached the young\nLivonian, and holding out his hand: \"Sister,\" said he.\n\nShe understood. She rose as if some sudden inspiration prevented her\nfrom hesitating a moment.\n\n\"Sister,\" repeated Michael Strogoff, \"we are authorized to continue our\njourney to Irkutsk. Will you come with me?\"\n\n\"I will follow you, brother,\" replied the girl, putting her hand into\nthat of Michael Strogoff. And together they left the police station.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII GOING DOWN THE VOLGA\n\nA LITTLE before midday, the steamboat's bell drew to the wharf on the\nVolga an unusually large concourse of people, for not only were those\nabout to embark who had intended to go, but the many who were compelled\nto go contrary to their wishes. The boilers of the Caucasus were under\nfull pressure; a slight smoke issued from its funnel, whilst the end\nof the escape-pipe and the lids of the valves were crowned with white\nvapor. It is needless to say that the police kept a close watch over\nthe departure of the Caucasus, and showed themselves pitiless to those\ntravelers who did not satisfactorily answer their questions.\n\nNumerous Cossacks came and went on the quay, ready to assist the agents,\nbut they had not to interfere, as no one ventured to offer the slightest\nresistance to their orders. Exactly at the hour the last clang of the\nbell sounded, the powerful wheels of the steamboat began to beat the\nwater, and the Caucasus passed rapidly between the two towns of which\nNijni-Novgorod is composed.\n\nMichael Strogoff and the young Livonian had taken a passage on board\nthe Caucasus. Their embarkation was made without any difficulty. As\nis known, the podorojna, drawn up in the name of Nicholas Korpanoff,\nauthorized this merchant to be accompanied on his journey to Siberia.\nThey appeared, therefore, to be a brother and sister traveling under the\nprotection of the imperial police. Both, seated together at the stern,\ngazed at the receding town, so disturbed by the governor's order.\nMichael had as yet said nothing to the girl, he had not even questioned\nher. He waited until she should speak to him, when that was necessary.\nShe had been anxious to leave that town, in which, but for the\nprovidential intervention of this unexpected protector, she would have\nremained imprisoned. She said nothing, but her looks spoke her thanks.\n\nThe Volga, the Rha of the ancients, the largest river in all Europe, is\nalmost three thousand miles in length. Its waters, rather unwholesome\nin its upper part, are improved at Nijni-Novgorod by those of the Oka, a\nrapid affluent, issuing from the central provinces of Russia. The system\nof Russian canals and rivers has been justly compared to a gigantic tree\nwhose branches spread over every part of the empire. The Volga forms the\ntrunk of this tree, and it has for roots seventy mouths opening into the\nCaspian Sea. It is navigable as far as Rjef, a town in the government of\nTver, that is, along the greater part of its course.\n\nThe steamboats plying between Perm and Nijni-Novgorod rapidly perform\nthe two hundred and fifty miles which separate this town from the town\nof Kasan. It is true that these boats have only to descend the Volga,\nwhich adds nearly two miles of current per hour to their own speed; but\non arriving at the confluence of the Kama, a little below Kasan, they\nare obliged to quit the Volga for the smaller river, up which they\nascend to Perm. Powerful as were her machines, the Caucasus could not\nthus, after entering the Kama, make against the current more than ten\nmiles an hour. Including an hour's stoppage at Kasan, the voyage from\nNijni-Novgorod to Perm would take from between sixty to sixty-two hours.\n\nThe steamer was very well arranged, and the passengers, according to\ntheir condition or resources, occupied three distinct classes on board.\nMichael Strogoff had taken care to engage two first-class cabins, so\nthat his young companion might retire into hers whenever she liked.\n\nThe Caucasus was loaded with passengers of every description. A\nnumber of Asiatic traders had thought it best to leave Nijni-Novgorod\nimmediately. In that part of the steamer reserved for the first-class\nmight be seen Armenians in long robes and a sort of miter on their\nheads; Jews, known by their conical caps; rich Chinese in their\ntraditional costume, a very wide blue, violet, or black robe; Turks,\nwearing the national turban; Hindoos, with square caps, and a simple\nstring for a girdle, some of whom, hold in their hands all the traffic\nof Central Asia; and, lastly, Tartars, wearing boots, ornamented with\nmany-colored braid, and the breast a mass of embroidery. All these\nmerchants had been obliged to pile up their numerous bales and chests in\nthe hold and on the deck; and the transport of their baggage would cost\nthem dear, for, according to the regulations, each person had only a\nright to twenty pounds' weight.\n\nIn the bows of the Caucasus were more numerous groups of passengers, not\nonly foreigners, but also Russians, who were not forbidden by the order\nto go back to their towns in the province. There were mujiks with caps\non their heads, and wearing checked shirts under their wide pelisses;\npeasants of the Volga, with blue trousers stuffed into their boots,\nrose-colored cotton shirts, drawn in by a cord, felt caps; a few women,\nhabited in flowery-patterned cotton dresses, gay-colored aprons, and\nbright handkerchiefs on their heads. These were principally third-class\npassengers, who were, happily, not troubled by the prospect of a long\nreturn voyage. The Caucasus passed numerous boats being towed up the\nstream, carrying all sorts of merchandise to Nijni-Novgorod. Then passed\nrafts of wood interminably long, and barges loaded to the gunwale, and\nnearly sinking under water. A bootless voyage they were making, since\nthe fair had been abruptly broken up at its outset.\n\nThe waves caused by the steamer splashed on the banks, covered with\nflocks of wild duck, who flew away uttering deafening cries. A little\nfarther, on the dry fields, bordered with willows, and aspens, were\nscattered a few cows, sheep, and herds of pigs. Fields, sown with thin\nbuckwheat and rye, stretched away to a background of half-cultivated\nhills, offering no remarkable prospect. The pencil of an artist in\nquest of the picturesque would have found nothing to reproduce in this\nmonotonous landscape.\n\nThe Caucasus had been steaming on for almost two hours, when the\nyoung Livonian, addressing herself to Michael, said, \"Are you going to\nIrkutsk, brother?\"\n\n\"Yes, sister,\" answered the young man. \"We are going the same way.\nConsequently, where I go, you shall go.\"\n\n\"To-morrow, brother, you shall know why I left the shores of the Baltic\nto go beyond the Ural Mountains.\"\n\n\"I ask you nothing, sister.\"\n\n\"You shall know all,\" replied the girl, with a faint smile. \"A sister\nshould hide nothing from her brother. But I cannot to-day. Fatigue and\nsorrow have broken me.\"\n\n\"Will you go and rest in your cabin?\" asked Michael Strogoff.\n\n\"Yes--yes; and to-morrow--\"\n\n\"Come then--\"\n\nHe hesitated to finish his sentence, as if he had wished to end it by\nthe name of his companion, of which he was still ignorant.\n\n\"Nadia,\" said she, holding out her hand.\n\n\"Come, Nadia,\" answered Michael, \"and make what use you like of your\nbrother Nicholas Korpanoff.\" And he led the girl to the cabin engaged\nfor her off the saloon.\n\nMichael Strogoff returned on deck, and eager for any news which might\nbear on his journey, he mingled in the groups of passengers, though\nwithout taking any part in the conversation. Should he by any chance\nbe questioned, and obliged to reply, he would announce himself as the\nmerchant Nicholas Korpanoff, going back to the frontier, for he did\nnot wish it to be suspected that a special permission authorized him to\ntravel to Siberia.\n\nThe foreigners in the steamer could evidently speak of nothing but the\noccurrences of the day, of the order and its consequences. These poor\npeople, scarcely recovered from the fatigue of a journey across Central\nAsia, found themselves obliged to return, and if they did not give loud\nvent to their anger and despair, it was because they dared not. Fear,\nmingled with respect, restrained them. It was possible that inspectors\nof police, charged with watching the passengers, had secretly embarked\non board the Caucasus, and it was just as well to keep silence;\nexpulsion, after all, was a good deal preferable to imprisonment in a\nfortress. Therefore the men were either silent, or spoke with so much\ncaution that it was scarcely possible to get any useful information.\n\nMichael Strogoff thus could learn nothing here; but if mouths were often\nshut at his approach--for they did not know him--his ears were soon\nstruck by the sound of one voice, which cared little whether it was\nheard or not.\n\nThe man with the hearty voice spoke Russian, but with a French accent;\nand another speaker answered him more reservedly. \"What,\" said the\nfirst, \"are you on board this boat, too, my dear fellow; you whom I\nmet at the imperial fete in Moscow, and just caught a glimpse of at\nNijni-Novgorod?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's I,\" answered the second drily.\n\n\"Really, I didn't expect to be so closely followed.\"\n\n\"I am not following you sir; I am preceding you.\"\n\n\"Precede! precede! Let us march abreast, keeping step, like two soldiers\non parade, and for the time, at least, let us agree, if you will, that\none shall not pass the other.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I shall pass you.\"\n\n\"We shall see that, when we are at the seat of war; but till then,\nwhy, let us be traveling companions. Later, we shall have both time and\noccasion to be rivals.\"\n\n\"Enemies.\"\n\n\"Enemies, if you like. There is a precision in your words, my dear\nfellow, particularly agreeable to me. One may always know what one has\nto look for, with you.\"\n\n\"What is the harm?\"\n\n\"No harm at all. So, in my turn, I will ask your permission to state our\nrespective situations.\"\n\n\"State away.\"\n\n\"You are going to Perm--like me?\"\n\n\"Like you.\"\n\n\"And probably you will go from Perm to Ekaterenburg, since that is the\nbest and safest route by which to cross the Ural Mountains?\"\n\n\"Probably.\"\n\n\"Once past the frontier, we shall be in Siberia, that is to say in the\nmidst of the invasion.\"\n\n\"We shall be there.\"\n\n\"Well! then, and only then, will be the time to say, Each for himself,\nand God for--\"\n\n\"For me.\"\n\n\"For you, all by yourself! Very well! But since we have a week of\nneutral days before us, and since it is very certain that news will not\nshower down upon us on the way, let us be friends until we become rivals\nagain.\"\n\n\"Enemies.\"\n\n\"Yes; that's right, enemies. But till then, let us act together, and not\ntry and ruin each other. All the same, I promise you to keep to myself\nall that I can see--\"\n\n\"And I, all that I can hear.\"\n\n\"Is that agreed?\"\n\n\"It is agreed.\"\n\n\"Your hand?\"\n\n\"Here it is.\" And the hand of the first speaker, that is to say, five\nwide-open fingers, vigorously shook the two fingers coolly extended by\nthe other.\n\n\"By the bye,\" said the first, \"I was able this morning to telegraph the\nvery words of the order to my cousin at seventeen minutes past ten.\"\n\n\"And I sent it to the Daily Telegraph at thirteen minutes past ten.\"\n\n\"Bravo, Mr. Blount!\"\n\n\"Very good, M. Jolivet.\"\n\n\"I will try and match that!\"\n\n\"It will be difficult.\"\n\n\"I can try, however.\"\n\nSo saying, the French correspondent familiarly saluted the Englishman,\nwho bowed stiffly. The governor's proclamation did not concern these two\nnews-hunters, as they were neither Russians nor foreigners of Asiatic\norigin. However, being urged by the same instinct, they had left\nNijni-Novgorod together. It was natural that they should take the same\nmeans of transport, and that they should follow the same route to the\nSiberian steppes. Traveling companions, whether enemies or friends, they\nhad a week to pass together before \"the hunt would be open.\" And then\nsuccess to the most expert! Alcide Jolivet had made the first advances,\nand Harry Blount had accepted them though he had done so coldly.\n\nThat very day at dinner the Frenchman open as ever and even too\nloquacious, the Englishman still silent and grave, were seen hobnobbing\nat the same table, drinking genuine Cliquot, at six roubles the bottle,\nmade from the fresh sap of the birch-trees of the country. On hearing\nthem chatting away together, Michael Strogoff said to himself: \"Those\nare inquisitive and indiscreet fellows whom I shall probably meet again\non the way. It will be prudent for me to keep them at a distance.\"\n\nThe young Livonian did not come to dinner. She was asleep in her cabin,\nand Michael did not like to awaken her. It was evening before she\nreappeared on the deck of the Caucasus. The long twilight imparted a\ncoolness to the atmosphere eagerly enjoyed by the passengers after the\nstifling heat of the day. As the evening advanced, the greater number\nnever even thought of going into the saloon. Stretched on the benches,\nthey inhaled with delight the slight breeze caused by the speed of the\nsteamer. At this time of year, and under this latitude, the sky scarcely\ndarkened between sunset and dawn, and left the steersman light enough to\nguide his steamer among the numerous vessels going up or down the Volga.\n\nBetween eleven and two, however, the moon being new, it was almost dark.\nNearly all the passengers were then asleep on the deck, and the silence\nwas disturbed only by the noise of the paddles striking the water at\nregular intervals. Anxiety kept Michael Strogoff awake. He walked up and\ndown, but always in the stern of the steamer. Once, however, he happened\nto pass the engine-room. He then found himself in the part reserved for\nsecond and third-class passengers.\n\nThere, everyone was lying asleep, not only on the benches, but also on\nthe bales, packages, and even the deck itself. Some care was necessary\nnot to tread on the sleepers, who were lying about everywhere. They were\nchiefly mujiks, accustomed to hard couches, and quite satisfied with the\nplanks of the deck. But no doubt they would, all the same, have soundly\nabused the clumsy fellow who roused them with an accidental kick.\n\nMichael Strogoff took care, therefore, not to disturb anyone. By going\nthus to the end of the boat, he had no other idea but that of striving\nagainst sleep by a rather longer walk. He reached the forward deck,\nand was already climbing the forecastle ladder, when he heard someone\nspeaking near him. He stopped. The voices appeared to come from a\ngroup of passengers enveloped in cloaks and wraps. It was impossible to\nrecognize them in the dark, though it sometimes happened that, when the\nsteamer's chimney sent forth a plume of ruddy flames, the sparks seemed\nto fall amongst the group as though thousands of spangles had been\nsuddenly illuminated.\n\nMichael was about to step up the ladder, when a few words reached his\near, uttered in that strange tongue which he had heard during the night\nat the fair. Instinctively he stopped to listen. Protected by the shadow\nof the forecastle, he could not be perceived himself. As to seeing\nthe passengers who were talking, that was impossible. He must confine\nhimself to listening.\n\nThe first words exchanged were of no importance--to him at least--but\nthey allowed him to recognize the voices of the man and woman whom he\nhad heard at Nijni-Novgorod. This, of course, made him redouble his\nattention. It was, indeed, not at all impossible that these same\nTsiganes, now banished, should be on board the Caucasus.\n\nAnd it was well for him that he listened, for he distinctly heard this\nquestion and answer made in the Tartar idiom: \"It is said that a courier\nhas set out from Moscow for Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"It is so said, Sangarre; but either this courier will arrive too late,\nor he will not arrive at all.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff started involuntarily at this reply, which concerned\nhim so directly. He tried to see if the man and woman who had just\nspoken were really those whom he suspected, but he could not succeed.\n\nIn a few moments Michael Strogoff had regained the stern of the vessel\nwithout having been perceived, and, taking a seat by himself, he buried\nhis face in his hands. It might have been supposed that he was asleep.\n\nHe was not asleep, however, and did not even think of sleeping. He was\nreflecting, not without a lively apprehension: \"Who is it knows of my\ndeparture, and who can have any interest in knowing it?\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII GOING UP THE KAMA\n\nTHE next day, the 18th of July, at twenty minutes to seven in the\nmorning, the Caucasus reached the Kasan quay, seven versts from the\ntown.\n\nKasan is situated at the confluence of the Volga and Kasanka. It is an\nimportant chief town of the government, and a Greek archbishopric, as\nwell as the seat of a university. The varied population preserves an\nAsiatic character. Although the town was so far from the landing-place,\na large crowd was collected on the quay. They had come for news. The\ngovernor of the province had published an order identical with that of\nNijni-Novgorod. Police officers and a few Cossacks kept order among the\ncrowd, and cleared the way both for the passengers who were disembarking\nand also for those who were embarking on board the Caucasus, minutely\nexamining both classes of travelers. The one were the Asiatics who were\nbeing expelled; the other, mujiks stopping at Kasan.\n\nMichael Strogoff unconcernedly watched the bustle which occurs at all\nquays on the arrival of a steam vessel. The Caucasus would stay for an\nhour to renew her fuel. Michael did not even think of landing. He was\nunwilling to leave the young Livonian girl alone on board, as she had\nnot yet reappeared on deck.\n\nThe two journalists had risen at dawn, as all good huntsmen should do.\nThey went on shore and mingled with the crowd, each keeping to his own\npeculiar mode of proceeding; Harry Blount, sketching different types, or\nnoting some observation; Alcide Jolivet contenting himself with asking\nquestions, confiding in his memory, which never failed him.\n\nThere was a report along all the frontier that the insurrection and\ninvasion had reached considerable proportions. Communication between\nSiberia and the empire was already extremely difficult. All this Michael\nStrogoff heard from the new arrivals. This information could not but\ncause him great uneasiness, and increase his wish of being beyond the\nUral Mountains, so as to judge for himself of the truth of these\nrumors, and enable him to guard against any possible contingency. He was\nthinking of seeking more direct intelligence from some native of Kasan,\nwhen his attention was suddenly diverted.\n\nAmong the passengers who were leaving the Caucasus, Michael recognized\nthe troop of Tsiganes who, the day before, had appeared in the\nNijni-Novgorod fair. There, on the deck of the steamboat were the old\nBohemian and the woman. With them, and no doubt under their direction,\nlanded about twenty dancers and singers, from fifteen to twenty years of\nage, wrapped in old cloaks, which covered their spangled dresses. These\ndresses, just then glancing in the first rays of the sun, reminded\nMichael of the curious appearance which he had observed during the\nnight. It must have been the glitter of those spangles in the bright\nflames issuing from the steamboat's funnel which had attracted his\nattention.\n\n\"Evidently,\" said Michael to himself, \"this troop of Tsiganes, after\nremaining below all day, crouched under the forecastle during the night.\nWere these gipsies trying to show themselves as little as possible? Such\nis not according to the usual custom of their race.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff no longer doubted that the expressions he had heard,\nhad proceeded from this tawny group, and had been exchanged between the\nold gypsy and the woman to whom he gave the Mongolian name of Sangarre.\nMichael involuntarily moved towards the gangway, as the Bohemian troop\nwas leaving the steamboat.\n\nThe old Bohemian was there, in a humble attitude, little conformable\nwith the effrontery natural to his race. One would have said that he was\nendeavoring rather to avoid attention than to attract it. His battered\nhat, browned by the suns of every clime, was pulled forward over his\nwrinkled face. His arched back was bent under an old cloak, wrapped\nclosely round him, notwithstanding the heat. It would have been\ndifficult, in this miserable dress, to judge of either his size or face.\nNear him was the Tsigane, Sangarre, a woman about thirty years old. She\nwas tall and well made, with olive complexion, magnificent eyes, and\ngolden hair.\n\nMany of the young dancers were remarkably pretty, all possessing the\nclear-cut features of their race. These Tsiganes are generally very\nattractive, and more than one of the great Russian nobles, who try to\nvie with the English in eccentricity, has not hesitated to choose his\nwife from among these gypsy girls. One of them was humming a song of\nstrange rhythm, which might be thus rendered:\n\n          \"Glitters brightly the gold\n              In my raven locks streaming\n           Rich coral around\n              My graceful neck gleaming;\n           Like a bird of the air,\n              Through the wide world I roam.\"\n\nThe laughing girl continued her song, but Michael Strogoff ceased\nto listen. It struck him just then that the Tsigane, Sangarre, was\nregarding him with a peculiar gaze, as if to fix his features indelibly\nin her memory.\n\nIt was but for a few moments, when Sangarre herself followed the old man\nand his troop, who had already left the vessel. \"That's a bold gypsy,\"\nsaid Michael to himself. \"Could she have recognized me as the man whom\nshe saw at Nijni-Novgorod? These confounded Tsiganes have the eyes of a\ncat! They can see in the dark; and that woman there might well know--\"\n\nMichael Strogoff was on the point of following Sangarre and the gypsy\nband, but he stopped. \"No,\" thought he, \"no unguarded proceedings. If\nI were to stop that old fortune teller and his companions my incognito\nwould run a risk of being discovered. Besides, now they have landed,\nbefore they can pass the frontier I shall be far beyond it. They may\ntake the route from Kasan to Ishim, but that affords no resources to\ntravelers. Besides a tarantass, drawn by good Siberian horses, will\nalways go faster than a gypsy cart! Come, friend Korpanoff, be easy.\"\n\nBy this time the man and Sangarre had disappeared.\n\nKasan is justly called the \"Gate of Asia\" and considered as the center\nof Siberian and Bokharian commerce; for two roads begin here and lead\nacross the Ural Mountains. Michael Strogoff had very judiciously chosen\nthe one by Perm and Ekaterenburg. It is the great stage road, well\nsupplied with relays kept at the expense of the government, and is\nprolonged from Ishim to Irkutsk.\n\nIt is true that a second route--the one of which Michael had just\nspoken--avoiding the slight detour by Perm, also connects Kasan with\nIshim. It is perhaps shorter than the other, but this advantage is much\ndiminished by the absence of post-houses, the bad roads, and lack of\nvillages. Michael Strogoff was right in the choice he had made, and if,\nas appeared probable, the gipsies should follow the second route from\nKasan to Ishim, he had every chance of arriving before them.\n\nAn hour afterwards the bell rang on board the Caucasus, calling the new\npassengers, and recalling the former ones. It was now seven o'clock in\nthe morning. The requisite fuel had been received on board. The whole\nvessel began to vibrate from the effects of the steam. She was ready to\nstart. Passengers going from Kasan to Perm were crowding on the deck.\n\nMichael noticed that of the two reporters Blount alone had rejoined the\nsteamer. Was Alcide Jolivet about to miss his passage?\n\nBut just as the ropes were being cast off, Jolivet appeared, tearing\nalong. The steamer was already sheering off, the gangway had been drawn\nonto the quay, but Alcide Jolivet would not stick at such a little thing\nas that, so, with a bound like a harlequin, he alighted on the deck of\nthe Caucasus almost in his rival's arms.\n\n\"I thought the Caucasus was going without you,\" said the latter.\n\n\"Bah!\" answered Jolivet, \"I should soon have caught you up again, by\nchartering a boat at my cousin's expense, or by traveling post at twenty\ncopecks a verst, and on horseback. What could I do? It was so long a way\nfrom the quay to the telegraph office.\"\n\n\"Have you been to the telegraph office?\" asked Harry Blount, biting his\nlips.\n\n\"That's exactly where I have been!\" answered Jolivet, with his most\namiable smile.\n\n\"And is it still working to Kolyvan?\"\n\n\"That I don't know, but I can assure you, for instance, that it is\nworking from Kasan to Paris.\"\n\n\"You sent a dispatch to your cousin?\"\n\n\"With enthusiasm.\"\n\n\"You had learnt then--?\"\n\n\"Look here, little father, as the Russians say,\" replied Alcide Jolivet,\n\"I'm a good fellow, and I don't wish to keep anything from you. The\nTartars, and Feofar-Khan at their head, have passed Semipolatinsk, and\nare descending the Irtish. Do what you like with that!\"\n\nWhat! such important news, and Harry Blount had not known it; and his\nrival, who had probably learned it from some inhabitant of Kasan, had\nalready transmitted it to Paris. The English paper was distanced! Harry\nBlount, crossing his hands behind him, walked off and seated himself in\nthe stern without uttering a word.\n\nAbout ten o'clock in the morning, the young Livonian, leaving her cabin,\nappeared on deck. Michael Strogoff went forward and took her hand.\n\"Look, sister!\" said he, leading her to the bows of the Caucasus.\n\nThe view was indeed well worth seeing. The Caucasus had reached the\nconfluence of the Volga and the Kama. There she would leave the former\nriver, after having descended it for nearly three hundred miles, to\nascend the latter for a full three hundred.\n\nThe Kama was here very wide, and its wooded banks lovely. A few white\nsails enlivened the sparkling water. The horizon was closed by a line of\nhills covered with aspens, alders, and sometimes large oaks.\n\nBut these beauties of nature could not distract the thoughts of the\nyoung Livonian even for an instant. She had left her hand in that of her\ncompanion, and turning to him, \"At what distance are we from Moscow?\"\nshe asked.\n\n\"Nine hundred versts,\" answered Michael.\n\n\"Nine hundred, out of seven thousand!\" murmured the girl.\n\nThe bell now announced the breakfast hour. Nadia followed Michael\nStrogoff to the restaurant. She ate little, and as a poor girl whose\nmeans are small would do. Michael thought it best to content himself\nwith the fare which satisfied his companion; and in less than twenty\nminutes he and Nadia returned on deck. There they seated themselves in\nthe stern, and without preamble, Nadia, lowering her voice to be heard\nby him alone, began:\n\n\"Brother, I am the daughter of an exile. My name is Nadia Fedor. My\nmother died at Riga scarcely a month ago, and I am going to Irkutsk to\nrejoin my father and share his exile.\"\n\n\"I, too, am going to Irkutsk,\" answered Michael, \"and I shall thank\nHeaven if it enables me to give Nadia Fedor safe and sound into her\nfather's hands.\"\n\n\"Thank you, brother,\" replied Nadia.\n\nMichael Strogoff then added that he had obtained a special podorojna\nfor Siberia, and that the Russian authorities could in no way hinder his\nprogress.\n\nNadia asked nothing more. She saw in this fortunate meeting with Michael\na means only of accelerating her journey to her father.\n\n\"I had,\" said she, \"a permit which authorized me to go to Irkutsk, but\nthe new order annulled that; and but for you, brother, I should have\nbeen unable to leave the town, in which, without doubt, I should have\nperished.\"\n\n\"And dared you, alone, Nadia,\" said Michael, \"attempt to cross the\nsteppes of Siberia?\"\n\n\"The Tartar invasion was not known when I left Riga. It was only at\nMoscow that I learnt the news.\"\n\n\"And despite it, you continued your journey?\"\n\n\"It was my duty.\"\n\nThe words showed the character of the brave girl.\n\nShe then spoke of her father, Wassili Fedor. He was a much-esteemed\nphysician at Riga. But his connection with some secret society having\nbeen asserted, he received orders to start for Irkutsk. The police who\nbrought the order conducted him without delay beyond the frontier.\n\nWassili Fedor had but time to embrace his sick wife and his daughter, so\nsoon to be left alone, when, shedding bitter tears, he was led away. A\nyear and a half after her husband's departure, Madame Fedor died in\nthe arms of her daughter, who was thus left alone and almost penniless.\nNadia Fedor then asked, and easily obtained from the Russian government,\nan authorization to join her father at Irkutsk. She wrote and told him\nshe was starting. She had barely enough money for this long journey, and\nyet she did not hesitate to undertake it. She would do what she could.\nGod would do the rest.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX DAY AND NIGHT IN A TARANTASS\n\nTHE next day, the 19th of July, the Caucasus reached Perm, the last\nplace at which she touched on the Kama.\n\nThe government of which Perm is the capital is one of the largest in the\nRussian Empire, and, extending over the Ural Mountains, encroaches on\nSiberian territory. Marble quarries, mines of salt, platina, gold, and\ncoal are worked here on a large scale. Although Perm, by its situation,\nhas become an important town, it is by no means attractive, being\nextremely dirty, and without resources. This want of comfort is of\nno consequence to those going to Siberia, for they come from the more\ncivilized districts, and are supplied with all necessaries.\n\nAt Perm travelers from Siberia resell their vehicles, more or less\ndamaged by the long journey across the plains. There, too, those passing\nfrom Europe to Asia purchase carriages, or sleighs in the winter season.\n\nMichael Strogoff had already sketched out his programme. A vehicle\ncarrying the mail usually runs across the Ural Mountains, but this, of\ncourse, was discontinued. Even if it had not been so, he would not have\ntaken it, as he wished to travel as fast as possible, without depending\non anyone. He wisely preferred to buy a carriage, and journey by stages,\nstimulating the zeal of the postillions by well-applied \"na vodkou,\" or\ntips.\n\nUnfortunately, in consequence of the measures taken against foreigners\nof Asiatic origin, a large number of travelers had already left Perm,\nand therefore conveyances were extremely rare. Michael was obliged to\ncontent himself with what had been rejected by others. As to horses,\nas long as the Czar's courier was not in Siberia, he could exhibit his\npodorojna, and the postmasters would give him the preference. But, once\nout of Europe, he had to depend alone on the power of his roubles.\n\nBut to what sort of a vehicle should he harness his horses? To a telga\nor to a tarantass? The telga is nothing but an open four-wheeled cart,\nmade entirely of wood, the pieces fastened together by means of\nstrong rope. Nothing could be more primitive, nothing could be less\ncomfortable; but, on the other hand, should any accident happen on the\nway, nothing could be more easily repaired. There is no want of firs on\nthe Russian frontier, and axle-trees grow naturally in forests. The post\nextraordinary, known by the name of \"perck-ladnoi,\" is carried by the\ntelga, as any road is good enough for it. It must be confessed that\nsometimes the ropes which fasten the concern together break, and whilst\nthe hinder part remains stuck in some bog, the fore-part arrives at\nthe post-house on two wheels; but this result is considered quite\nsatisfactory.\n\nMichael Strogoff would have been obliged to employ a telga, if he had\nnot been lucky enough to discover a tarantass. It is to be hoped that\nthe invention of Russian coach-builders will devise some improvement\nin this last-named vehicle. Springs are wanting in it as well as in the\ntelga; in the absence of iron, wood is not spared; but its four wheels,\nwith eight or nine feet between them, assure a certain equilibrium over\nthe jolting rough roads. A splash-board protects the travelers from\nthe mud, and a strong leathern hood, which may be pulled quite over the\noccupiers, shelters them from the great heat and violent storms of the\nsummer. The tarantass is as solid and as easy to repair as the telga,\nand is, moreover, less addicted to leaving its hinder part in the middle\nof the road.\n\nIt was not without careful search that Michael managed to discover this\ntarantass, and there was probably not a second to be found in all Perm.\nHe haggled long about the price, for form's sake, to act up to his part\nas Nicholas Korpanoff, a plain merchant of Irkutsk.\n\nNadia had followed her companion in his search after a suitable vehicle.\nAlthough the object of each was different, both were equally anxious to\narrive at their goal. One would have said the same will animated them\nboth.\n\n\"Sister,\" said Michael, \"I wish I could have found a more comfortable\nconveyance for you.\"\n\n\"Do you say that to me, brother, when I would have gone on foot, if need\nwere, to rejoin my father?\"\n\n\"I do not doubt your courage, Nadia, but there are physical fatigues a\nwoman may be unable to endure.\"\n\n\"I shall endure them, whatever they be,\" replied the girl. \"If you ever\nhear a complaint from me you may leave me in the road, and continue your\njourney alone.\"\n\nHalf an hour later, the podorojna being presented by Michael, three\npost-horses were harnessed to the tarantass. These animals, covered\nwith long hair, were very like long-legged bears. They were small\nbut spirited, being of Siberian breed. The way in which the iemschik\nharnessed them was thus: one, the largest, was secured between two long\nshafts, on whose farther end was a hoop carrying tassels and bells; the\ntwo others were simply fastened by ropes to the steps of the tarantass.\nThis was the complete harness, with mere strings for reins.\n\nNeither Michael Strogoff nor the young Livonian girl had any baggage.\nThe rapidity with which one wished to make the journey, and the more\nthan modest resources of the other, prevented them from embarrassing\nthemselves with packages. It was a fortunate thing, under the\ncircumstances, for the tarantass could not have carried both baggage\nand travelers. It was only made for two persons, without counting the\niemschik, who kept his equilibrium on his narrow seat in a marvelous\nmanner.\n\nThe iemschik is changed at every relay. The man who drove the tarantass\nduring the first stage was, like his horses, a Siberian, and no less\nshaggy than they; long hair, cut square on the forehead, hat with a\nturned-up brim, red belt, coat with crossed facings and buttons stamped\nwith the imperial cipher. The iemschik, on coming up with his team,\nthrew an inquisitive glance at the passengers of the tarantass. No\nluggage!--and had there been, where in the world could he have stowed\nit? Rather shabby in appearance too. He looked contemptuous.\n\n\"Crows,\" said he, without caring whether he was overheard or not;\n\"crows, at six copecks a verst!\"\n\n\"No, eagles!\" said Michael, who understood the iemschik's slang\nperfectly; \"eagles, do you hear, at nine copecks a verst, and a tip\nbesides.\"\n\nHe was answered by a merry crack of the whip.\n\nIn the language of the Russian postillions the \"crow\" is the stingy or\npoor traveler, who at the post-houses only pays two or three copecks\na verst for the horses. The \"eagle\" is the traveler who does not mind\nexpense, to say nothing of liberal tips. Therefore the crow could not\nclaim to fly as rapidly as the imperial bird.\n\nNadia and Michael immediately took their places in the tarantass. A\nsmall store of provisions was put in the box, in case at any time they\nwere delayed in reaching the post-houses, which are very comfortably\nprovided under direction of the State. The hood was pulled up, as it was\ninsupport-ably hot, and at twelve o'clock the tarantass left Perm in a\ncloud of dust.\n\nThe way in which the iemschik kept up the pace of his team would\nhave certainly astonished travelers who, being neither Russians nor\nSiberians, were not accustomed to this sort of thing. The leader, rather\nlarger than the others, kept to a steady long trot, perfectly regular,\nwhether up or down hill. The two other horses seemed to know no other\npace than the gallop, though they performed many an eccentric curvette\nas they went along. The iemschik, however, never touched them, only\nurging them on by startling cracks of his whip. But what epithets he\nlavished on them, including the names of all the saints in the calendar,\nwhen they behaved like docile and conscientious animals! The string\nwhich served as reins would have had no influence on the spirited\nbeasts, but the words \"na pravo,\" to the right, \"na levo,\" to the left,\npronounced in a guttural tone, were more effectual than either bridle or\nsnaffle.\n\nAnd what amiable expressions! \"Go on, my doves!\" the iemschik would say.\n\"Go on, pretty swallows! Fly, my little pigeons! Hold up, my cousin on\nthe left! Gee up, my little father on the right!\"\n\nBut when the pace slackened, what insulting expressions, instantly\nunderstood by the sensitive animals! \"Go on, you wretched snail!\nConfound you, you slug! I'll roast you alive, you tortoise, you!\"\n\nWhether or not it was from this way of driving, which requires the\niemschiks to possess strong throats more than muscular arms, the\ntarantass flew along at a rate of from twelve to fourteen miles an hour.\nMichael Strogoff was accustomed both to the sort of vehicle and the mode\nof traveling. Neither jerks nor jolts incommoded him. He knew that a\nRussian driver never even tries to avoid either stones, ruts, bogs,\nfallen trees, or trenches, which may happen to be in the road. He was\nused to all that. His companion ran a risk of being hurt by the violent\njolts of the tarantass, but she would not complain.\n\nFor a little while Nadia did not speak. Then possessed with the one\nthought, that of reaching her journey's end, \"I have calculated that\nthere are three hundred versts between Perm and Ekaterenburg, brother,\"\nsaid she. \"Am I right?\"\n\n\"You are quite right, Nadia,\" answered Michael; \"and when we have\nreached Ekaterenburg, we shall be at the foot of the Ural Mountains on\nthe opposite side.\"\n\n\"How long will it take to get across the mountains?\"\n\n\"Forty-eight hours, for we shall travel day and night. I say day and\nnight, Nadia,\" added he, \"for I cannot stop even for a moment; I go on\nwithout rest to Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"I shall not delay you, brother; no, not even for an hour, and we will\ntravel day and night.\"\n\n\"Well then, Nadia, if the Tartar invasion has only left the road open,\nwe shall arrive in twenty days.\"\n\n\"You have made this journey before?\" asked Nadia.\n\n\"Many times.\"\n\n\"During winter we should have gone more rapidly and surely, should we\nnot?\"\n\n\"Yes, especially with more rapidity, but you would have suffered much\nfrom the frost and snow.\"\n\n\"What matter! Winter is the friend of Russia.\"\n\n\"Yes, Nadia, but what a constitution anyone must have to endure such\nfriendship! I have often seen the temperature in the Siberian steppes\nfall to more than forty degrees below freezing point! I have felt,\nnotwithstanding my reindeer coat, my heart growing chill, my limbs\nstiffening, my feet freezing in triple woolen socks; I have seen my\nsleigh horses covered with a coating of ice, their breath congealed\nat their nostrils. I have seen the brandy in my flask change into hard\nstone, on which not even my knife could make an impression. But my\nsleigh flew like the wind. Not an obstacle on the plain, white and\nlevel farther than the eye could reach! No rivers to stop one! Hard\nice everywhere, the route open, the road sure! But at the price of what\nsuffering, Nadia, those alone could say, who have never returned, but\nwhose bodies have been covered up by the snow storm.\"\n\n\"However, you have returned, brother,\" said Nadia.\n\n\"Yes, but I am a Siberian, and, when quite a child, I used to follow my\nfather to the chase, and so became inured to these hardships. But when\nyou said to me, Nadia, that winter would not have stopped you, that you\nwould have gone alone, ready to struggle against the frightful Siberian\nclimate, I seemed to see you lost in the snow and falling, never to rise\nagain.\"\n\n\"How many times have you crossed the steppe in winter?\" asked the young\nLivonian.\n\n\"Three times, Nadia, when I was going to Omsk.\"\n\n\"And what were you going to do at Omsk?\"\n\n\"See my mother, who was expecting me.\"\n\n\"And I am going to Irkutsk, where my father expects me. I am taking him\nmy mother's last words. That is as much as to tell you, brother, that\nnothing would have prevented me from setting out.\"\n\n\"You are a brave girl, Nadia,\" replied Michael. \"God Himself would have\nled you.\"\n\nAll day the tarantass was driven rapidly by the iemschiks, who succeeded\neach other at every stage. The eagles of the mountain would not have\nfound their name dishonored by these \"eagles\" of the highway. The high\nprice paid for each horse, and the tips dealt out so freely, recommended\nthe travelers in a special way. Perhaps the postmasters thought it\nsingular that, after the publication of the order, a young man and his\nsister, evidently both Russians, could travel freely across Siberia,\nwhich was closed to everyone else, but their papers were all en regle\nand they had the right to pass.\n\nHowever, Michael Strogoff and Nadia were not the only travelers on their\nway from Perm to Ekaterenburg. At the first stages, the courier of the\nCzar had learnt that a carriage preceded them, but, as there was no want\nof horses, he did not trouble himself about that.\n\nDuring the day, halts were made for food alone. At the post-houses could\nbe found lodging and provision. Besides, if there was not an inn, the\nhouse of the Russian peasant would have been no less hospitable. In\nthe villages, which are almost all alike, with their white-walled,\ngreen-roofed chapels, the traveler might knock at any door, and it would\nbe opened to him. The moujik would come out, smiling and extending\nhis hand to his guest. He would offer him bread and salt, the burning\ncharcoal would be put into the \"samovar,\" and he would be made quite at\nhome. The family would turn out themselves rather than that he should\nnot have room. The stranger is the relation of all. He is \"one sent by\nGod.\"\n\nOn arriving that evening Michael instinctively asked the postmaster how\nmany hours ago the carriage which preceded them had passed that stage.\n\n\"Two hours ago, little father,\" replied the postmaster.\n\n\"Is it a berlin?\"\n\n\"No, a telga.\"\n\n\"How many travelers?\"\n\n\"Two.\"\n\n\"And they are going fast?\"\n\n\"Eagles!\"\n\n\"Let them put the horses to as soon as possible.\"\n\nMichael and Nadia, resolved not to stop even for an hour, traveled all\nnight. The weather continued fine, though the atmosphere was heavy and\nbecoming charged with electricity. It was to be hoped that a storm would\nnot burst whilst they were among the mountains, for there it would be\nterrible. Being accustomed to read atmospheric signs, Michael Strogoff\nknew that a struggle of the elements was approaching.\n\nThe night passed without incident. Notwithstanding the jolting of the\ntarantass, Nadia was able to sleep for some hours. The hood was\npartly raised so as to give as much air as there was in the stifling\natmosphere.\n\nMichael kept awake all night, mistrusting the iemschiks, who are apt to\nsleep at their posts. Not an hour was lost at the relays, not an hour on\nthe road.\n\nThe next day, the 20th of July, at about eight o'clock in the morning,\nthey caught the first glimpse of the Ural Mountains in the east. This\nimportant chain which separates Russia from Siberia was still at a great\ndistance, and they could not hope to reach it until the end of the day.\nThe passage of the mountains must necessarily be performed during\nthe next night. The sky was cloudy all day, and the temperature was\ntherefore more bearable, but the weather was very threatening.\n\nIt would perhaps have been more prudent not to have ascended the\nmountains during the night, and Michael would not have done so, had he\nbeen permitted to wait; but when, at the last stage, the iemschik drew\nhis attention to a peal of thunder reverberating among the rocks, he\nmerely said:\n\n\"Is a telga still before us?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How long is it in advance?\"\n\n\"Nearly an hour.\"\n\n\"Forward, and a triple tip if we are at Ekaterenburg to-morrow morning.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS\n\nTHE Ural Mountains extend in a length of over two thousand miles between\nEurope and Asia. Whether they are called the Urals, which is the Tartar,\nor the Poyas, which is the Russian name, they are correctly so termed;\nfor these names signify \"belt\" in both languages. Rising on the shores\nof the Arctic Sea, they reach the borders of the Caspian. This was the\nbarrier to be crossed by Michael Strogoff before he could enter Siberian\nRussia. The mountains could be crossed in one night, if no accident\nhappened. Unfortunately, thunder muttering in the distance announced\nthat a storm was at hand. The electric tension was such that it could\nnot be dispersed without a tremendous explosion, which in the peculiar\nstate of the atmosphere would be very terrible.\n\nMichael took care that his young companion should be as well protected\nas possible. The hood, which might have been easily blown away, was\nfastened more securely with ropes, crossed above and at the back. The\ntraces were doubled, and, as an additional precaution, the nave-boxes\nwere stuffed with straw, as much to increase the strength of the wheels\nas to lessen the jolting, unavoidable on a dark night. Lastly, the\nfore and hinder parts, connected simply by the axles to the body of the\ntarantass, were joined one to the other by a crossbar, fixed by means of\npins and screws.\n\nNadia resumed her place in the cart, and Michael took his seat beside\nher. Before the lowered hood hung two leathern curtains, which would in\nsome degree protect the travelers against the wind and rain. Two great\nlanterns, suspended from the iemschik's seat, threw a pale glimmer\nscarcely sufficient to light the way, but serving as warning lights to\nprevent any other carriage from running into them.\n\nIt was well that all these precautions were taken, in expectation of a\nrough night. The road led them up towards dense masses of clouds, and\nshould the clouds not soon resolve into rain, the fog would be such that\nthe tarantass would be unable to advance without danger of falling over\nsome precipice.\n\nThe Ural chain does not attain any very great height, the highest summit\nnot being more than five thousand feet. Eternal snow is there unknown,\nand what is piled up by the Siberian winter is soon melted by the summer\nsun. Shrubs and trees grow to a considerable height. The iron and copper\nmines, as well as those of precious stones, draw a considerable number\nof workmen to that region. Also, those villages termed \"gavody\" are\nthere met with pretty frequently, and the road through the great passes\nis easily practicable for post-carriages.\n\nBut what is easy enough in fine weather and broad daylight, offers\ndifficulties and perils when the elements are engaged in fierce warfare,\nand the traveler is in the midst of it. Michael Strogoff knew from\nformer experience what a storm in the mountains was, and perhaps this\nwould be as terrible as the snowstorms which burst forth with such\nvehemence in the winter.\n\nRain was not yet falling, so Michael raised the leathern curtains which\nprotected the interior of the tarantass and looked out, watching\nthe sides of the road, peopled with fantastic shadows, caused by the\nwavering light of the lanterns. Nadia, motionless, her arms folded,\ngazed forth also, though without leaning forward, whilst her companion,\nhis body half out of the carriage, examined both sky and earth.\n\nThe calmness of the atmosphere was very threatening, the air being\nperfectly still. It was just as if Nature were half stifled, and could\nno longer breathe; her lungs, that is to say those gloomy, dense clouds,\nnot being able to perform their functions. The silence would have been\ncomplete but for the grindings of the wheels of the tarantass over the\nroad, the creaking of the axles, the snorting of the horses, and the\nclattering of their iron hoofs among the pebbles, sparks flying out on\nevery side.\n\nThe road was perfectly deserted. The tarantass encountered neither\npedestrians nor horsemen, nor a vehicle of any description, in the\nnarrow defiles of the Ural, on this threatening night. Not even the\nfire of a charcoal-burner was visible in the woods, not an encampment of\nminers near the mines, not a hut among the brushwood.\n\nUnder these peculiar circumstances it might have been allowable to\npostpone the journey till the morning. Michael Strogoff, however, had\nnot hesitated, he had no right to stop, but then--and it began to cause\nhim some anxiety--what possible reason could those travelers in the\ntelga ahead have for being so imprudent?\n\nMichael remained thus on the look-out for some time. About eleven\no'clock lightning began to blaze continuously in the sky. The shadows of\nhuge pines appeared and disappeared in the rapid light. Sometimes when\nthe tarantass neared the side of the road, deep gulfs, lit up by the\nflashes, could be seen yawning beneath them. From time to time, on\ntheir vehicle giving a worse lurch than usual, they knew that they were\ncrossing a bridge of roughly-hewn planks thrown over some chasm, thunder\nappearing actually to be rumbling below them. Besides this, a booming\nsound filled the air, which increased as they mounted higher. With these\ndifferent noises rose the shouts of the iemschik, sometimes scolding,\nsometimes coaxing his poor beasts, who were suffering more from the\noppression of the air than the roughness of the roads. Even the bells on\nthe shafts could no longer rouse them, and they stumbled every instant.\n\n\"At what time shall we reach the top of the ridge?\" asked Michael of the\niemschik.\n\n\"At one o'clock in the morning if we ever get there at all,\" replied he,\nwith a shake of his head.\n\n\"Why, my friend, this will not be your first storm in the mountains,\nwill it?\"\n\n\"No, and pray God it may not be my last!\"\n\n\"Are you afraid?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not afraid, but I repeat that I think you were wrong in\nstarting.\"\n\n\"I should have been still more wrong had I stayed.\"\n\n\"Hold up, my pigeons!\" cried the iemschik; it was his business to obey,\nnot to question.\n\nJust then a distant noise was heard, shrill whistling through the\natmosphere, so calm a minute before. By the light of a dazzling flash,\nalmost immediately followed by a tremendous clap of thunder, Michael\ncould see huge pines on a high peak, bending before the blast. The\nwind was unchained, but as yet it was the upper air alone which was\ndisturbed. Successive crashes showed that many of the trees had been\nunable to resist the burst of the hurricane. An avalanche of shattered\ntrunks swept across the road and dashed over the precipice on the left,\ntwo hundred feet in front of the tarantass.\n\nThe horses stopped short.\n\n\"Get up, my pretty doves!\" cried the iemschik, adding the cracking of\nhis whip to the rumbling of the thunder.\n\nMichael took Nadia's hand. \"Are you asleep, sister?\"\n\n\"No, brother.\"\n\n\"Be ready for anything; here comes the storm!\"\n\n\"I am ready.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff had only just time to draw the leathern curtains, when\nthe storm was upon them.\n\nThe iemschik leapt from his seat and seized the horses' heads, for\nterrible danger threatened the whole party.\n\nThe tarantass was at a standstill at a turning of the road, down which\nswept the hurricane; it was absolutely necessary to hold the animals'\nheads to the wind, for if the carriage was taken broadside it must\ninfallibly capsize and be dashed over the precipice. The frightened\nhorses reared, and their driver could not manage to quiet them. His\nfriendly expressions had been succeeded by the most insulting epithets.\nNothing was of any use. The unfortunate animals, blinded by the\nlightning, terrified by the incessant peals of thunder, threatened every\ninstant to break their traces and flee. The iemschik had no longer any\ncontrol over his team.\n\nAt that moment Michael Strogoff threw himself from the tarantass and\nrushed to his assistance. Endowed with more than common strength, he\nmanaged, though not without difficulty, to master the horses.\n\nThe storm now raged with redoubled fury. A perfect avalanche of stones\nand trunks of trees began to roll down the slope above them.\n\n\"We cannot stop here,\" said Michael.\n\n\"We cannot stop anywhere,\" returned the iemschik, all his energies\napparently overcome by terror. \"The storm will soon send us to the\nbottom of the mountain, and that by the shortest way.\"\n\n\"Take you that horse, coward,\" returned Michael, \"I'll look after this\none.\"\n\nA fresh burst of the storm interrupted him. The driver and he were\nobliged to crouch upon the ground to avoid being blown down. The\ncarriage, notwithstanding their efforts and those of the horses, was\ngradually blown back, and had it not been stopped by the trunk of a\ntree, it would have gone over the edge of the precipice.\n\n\"Do not be afraid, Nadia!\" cried Michael Strogoff.\n\n\"I'm not afraid,\" replied the young Livonian, her voice not betraying\nthe slightest emotion.\n\nThe rumbling of the thunder ceased for an instant, the terrible blast\nhad swept past into the gorge below.\n\n\"Will you go back?\" said the iemschik.\n\n\"No, we must go on! Once past this turning, we shall have the shelter of\nthe slope.\"\n\n\"But the horses won't move!\"\n\n\"Do as I do, and drag them on.\"\n\n\"The storm will come back!\"\n\n\"Do you mean to obey?\"\n\n\"Do you order it?\"\n\n\"The Father orders it!\" answered Michael, for the first time invoking\nthe all-powerful name of the Emperor.\n\n\"Forward, my swallows!\" cried the iemschik, seizing one horse, while\nMichael did the same to the other.\n\nThus urged, the horses began to struggle onward. They could no longer\nrear, and the middle horse not being hampered by the others, could keep\nin the center of the road. It was with the greatest difficulty that\neither man or beasts could stand against the wind, and for every three\nsteps they took in advance, they lost one, and even two, by being forced\nbackwards. They slipped, they fell, they got up again. The vehicle ran a\ngreat risk of being smashed. If the hood had not been securely fastened,\nit would have been blown away long before. Michael Strogoff and the\niemschik took more than two hours in getting up this bit of road, only\nhalf a verst in length, so directly exposed was it to the lashing of the\nstorm. The danger was not only from the wind which battered against the\ntravelers, but from the avalanche of stones and broken trunks which were\nhurtling through the air.\n\nSuddenly, during a flash of lightning, one of these masses was seen\ncrashing and rolling down the mountain towards the tarantass. The\niemschik uttered a cry.\n\nMichael Strogoff in vain brought his whip down on the team, they refused\nto move.\n\nA few feet farther on, and the mass would pass behind them! Michael saw\nthe tarantass struck, his companion crushed; he saw there was no time to\ndrag her from the vehicle.\n\nThen, possessed in this hour of peril with superhuman strength, he threw\nhimself behind it, and planting his feet on the ground, by main force\nplaced it out of danger.\n\nThe enormous mass as it passed grazed his chest, taking away his breath\nas though it had been a cannon-ball, then crushing to powder the flints\non the road, it bounded into the abyss below.\n\n\"Oh, brother!\" cried Nadia, who had seen it all by the light of the\nflashes.\n\n\"Nadia!\" replied Michael, \"fear nothing!\"\n\n\"It is not on my own account that I fear!\"\n\n\"God is with us, sister!\"\n\n\"With me truly, brother, since He has sent thee in my way!\" murmured the\nyoung girl.\n\nThe impetus the tarantass had received was not to be lost, and the tired\nhorses once more moved forward. Dragged, so to speak, by Michael and the\niemschik, they toiled on towards a narrow pass, lying north and south,\nwhere they would be protected from the direct sweep of the tempest. At\none end a huge rock jutted out, round the summit of which whirled an\neddy. Behind the shelter of the rock there was a comparative calm; yet\nonce within the circumference of the cyclone, neither man nor beast\ncould resist its power.\n\nIndeed, some firs which towered above this protection were in a trice\nshorn of their tops, as though a gigantic scythe had swept across them.\nThe storm was now at its height. The lightning filled the defile, and\nthe thunderclaps had become one continued peal. The ground, struck by\nthe concussion, trembled as though the whole Ural chain was shaken to\nits foundations.\n\nHappily, the tarantass could be so placed that the storm might strike it\nobliquely. But the counter-currents, directed towards it by the slope,\ncould not be so well avoided, and so violent were they that every\ninstant it seemed as though it would be dashed to pieces.\n\nNadia was obliged to leave her seat, and Michael, by the light of one\nof the lanterns, discovered an excavation bearing the marks of a miner's\npick, where the young girl could rest in safety until they could once\nmore start.\n\nJust then--it was one o'clock in the morning--the rain began to fall in\ntorrents, and this in addition to the wind and lightning, made the\nstorm truly frightful. To continue the journey at present was utterly\nimpossible. Besides, having reached this pass, they had only to descend\nthe slopes of the Ural Mountains, and to descend now, with the road torn\nup by a thousand mountain torrents, in these eddies of wind and rain,\nwas utter madness.\n\n\"To wait is indeed serious,\" said Michael, \"but it must certainly be\ndone, to avoid still longer detentions. The very violence of the storm\nmakes me hope that it will not last long. About three o'clock the day\nwill begin to break, and the descent, which we cannot risk in the dark,\nwe shall be able, if not with ease, at least without such danger, to\nattempt after sunrise.\"\n\n\"Let us wait, brother,\" replied Nadia; \"but if you delay, let it not be\nto spare me fatigue or danger.\"\n\n\"Nadia, I know that you are ready to brave everything, but, in exposing\nboth of us, I risk more than my life, more than yours, I am not\nfulfilling my task, that duty which before everything else I must\naccomplish.\"\n\n\"A duty!\" murmured Nadia.\n\nJust then a bright flash lit up the sky; a loud clap followed. The air\nwas filled with sulphurous suffocating vapor, and a clump of huge pines,\nstruck by the electric fluid, scarcely twenty feet from the tarantass,\nflared up like a gigantic torch.\n\nThe iemschik was struck to the ground by a counter-shock, but, regaining\nhis feet, found himself happily unhurt.\n\nJust as the last growlings of the thunder were lost in the recesses of\nthe mountain, Michael felt Nadia's hand pressing his, and he heard her\nwhisper these words in his ear: \"Cries, brother! Listen!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI TRAVELERS IN DISTRESS\n\nDURING the momentary lull which followed, shouts could be distinctly\nheard from farther on, at no great distance from the tarantass. It was\nan earnest appeal, evidently from some traveler in distress.\n\nMichael listened attentively. The iemschik also listened, but shook his\nhead, as though it was impossible to help.\n\n\"They are travelers calling for aid,\" cried Nadia.\n\n\"They can expect nothing,\" replied the iemschik.\n\n\"Why not?\" cried Michael. \"Ought not we do for them what they would for\nus under similar circumstances?\"\n\n\"Surely you will not risk the carriage and horses!\"\n\n\"I will go on foot,\" replied Michael, interrupting the iemschik.\n\n\"I will go, too, brother,\" said the young girl.\n\n\"No, remain here, Nadia. The iemschik will stay with you. I do not wish\nto leave him alone.\"\n\n\"I will stay,\" replied Nadia.\n\n\"Whatever happens, do not leave this spot.\"\n\n\"You will find me where I now am.\"\n\nMichael pressed her hand, and, turning the corner of the slope,\ndisappeared in the darkness.\n\n\"Your brother is wrong,\" said the iemschik.\n\n\"He is right,\" replied Nadia simply.\n\nMeanwhile Strogoff strode rapidly on. If he was in a great hurry to aid\nthe travelers, he was also very anxious to know who it was that had not\nbeen hindered from starting by the storm; for he had no doubt that the\ncries came from the telga, which had so long preceded him.\n\nThe rain had stopped, but the storm was raging with redoubled fury. The\nshouts, borne on the air, became more distinct. Nothing was to be seen\nof the pass in which Nadia remained. The road wound along, and the\nsqualls, checked by the corners, formed eddies highly dangerous, to pass\nwhich, without being taken off his legs, Michael had to use his utmost\nstrength.\n\nHe soon perceived that the travelers whose shouts he had heard were at\nno great distance. Even then, on account of the darkness, Michael could\nnot see them, yet he heard distinctly their words.\n\nThis is what he heard, and what caused him some surprise: \"Are you\ncoming back, blockhead?\"\n\n\"You shall have a taste of the knout at the next stage.\"\n\n\"Do you hear, you devil's postillion! Hullo! Below!\"\n\n\"This is how a carriage takes you in this country!\"\n\n\"Yes, this is what you call a telga!\"\n\n\"Oh, that abominable driver! He goes on and does not appear to have\ndiscovered that he has left us behind!\"\n\n\"To deceive me, too! Me, an honorable Englishman! I will make a\ncomplaint at the chancellor's office and have the fellow hanged.\"\n\nThis was said in a very angry tone, but was suddenly interrupted by a\nburst of laughter from his companion, who exclaimed, \"Well! this is a\ngood joke, I must say.\"\n\n\"You venture to laugh!\" said the Briton angrily.\n\n\"Certainly, my dear confrere, and that most heartily. 'Pon my word I\nnever saw anything to come up to it.\"\n\nJust then a crashing clap of thunder re-echoed through the defile, and\nthen died away among the distant peaks. When the sound of the last growl\nhad ceased, the merry voice went on: \"Yes, it undoubtedly is a good\njoke. This machine certainly never came from France.\"\n\n\"Nor from England,\" replied the other.\n\nOn the road, by the light of the flashes, Michael saw, twenty yards from\nhim, two travelers, seated side by side in a most peculiar vehicle, the\nwheels of which were deeply imbedded in the ruts formed in the road.\n\nHe approached them, the one grinning from ear to ear, and the other\ngloomily contemplating his situation, and recognized them as the two\nreporters who had been his companions on board the Caucasus.\n\n\"Good-morning to you, sir,\" cried the Frenchman. \"Delighted to see you\nhere. Let me introduce you to my intimate enemy, Mr. Blount.\"\n\nThe English reporter bowed, and was about to introduce in his turn his\ncompanion, Alcide Jolivet, in accordance with the rules of society, when\nMichael interrupted him.\n\n\"Perfectly unnecessary, sir; we already know each other, for we traveled\ntogether on the Volga.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes! exactly so! Mr.--\"\n\n\"Nicholas Korpanoff, merchant, of Irkutsk. But may I know what has\nhappened which, though a misfortune to your companion, amuses you so\nmuch?\"\n\n\"Certainly, Mr. Korpanoff,\" replied Alcide. \"Fancy! our driver has gone\noff with the front part of this confounded carriage, and left us quietly\nseated in the back part! So here we are in the worse half of a telga; no\ndriver, no horses. Is it not a joke?\"\n\n\"No joke at all,\" said the Englishman.\n\n\"Indeed it is, my dear fellow. You do not know how to look at the bright\nside of things.\"\n\n\"How, pray, are we to go on?\" asked Blount.\n\n\"That is the easiest thing in the world,\" replied Alcide. \"Go and\nharness yourself to what remains of our cart; I will take the reins, and\ncall you my little pigeon, like a true iemschik, and you will trot off\nlike a real post-horse.\"\n\n\"Mr. Jolivet,\" replied the Englishman, \"this joking is going too far, it\npasses all limits and--\"\n\n\"Now do be quiet, my dear sir. When you are done up, I will take your\nplace; and call me a broken-winded snail and faint-hearted tortoise if I\ndon't take you over the ground at a rattling pace.\"\n\nAlcide said all this with such perfect good-humor that Michael could not\nhelp smiling. \"Gentlemen,\" said he, \"here is a better plan. We have now\nreached the highest ridge of the Ural chain, and thus have merely to\ndescend the slopes of the mountain. My carriage is close by, only two\nhundred yards behind. I will lend you one of my horses, harness it to\nthe remains of the telga, and to-mor-how, if no accident befalls us, we\nwill arrive together at Ekaterenburg.\"\n\n\"That, Mr. Korpanoff,\" said Alcide, \"is indeed a generous proposal.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir,\" replied Michael, \"I would willingly offer you places in\nmy tarantass, but it will only hold two, and my sister and I already\nfill it.\"\n\n\"Really, sir,\" answered Alcide, \"with your horse and our demi-telga we\nwill go to the world's end.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Harry Blount, \"we most willingly accept your kind offer.\nAnd, as to that iemschik--\"\n\n\"Oh! I assure you that you are not the first travelers who have met with\na similar misfortune,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"But why should not our driver come back? He knows perfectly well that\nhe has left us behind, wretch that he is!\"\n\n\"He! He never suspected such a thing.\"\n\n\"What! the fellow not know that he was leaving the better half of his\ntelga behind?\"\n\n\"Not a bit, and in all good faith is driving the fore part into\nEkaterenburg.\"\n\n\"Did I not tell you that it was a good joke, confrere?\" cried Alcide.\n\n\"Then, gentlemen, if you will follow me,\" said Michael, \"we will return\nto my carriage, and--\"\n\n\"But the telga,\" observed the Englishman.\n\n\"There is not the slightest fear that it will fly away, my dear Blount!\"\nexclaimed Alcide; \"it has taken such good root in the ground, that if it\nwere left here until next spring it would begin to bud.\"\n\n\"Come then, gentlemen,\" said Michael Strogoff, \"and we will bring up the\ntarantass.\"\n\nThe Frenchman and the Englishman, descending from their seats, no\nlonger the hinder one, since the front had taken its departure, followed\nMichael.\n\nWalking along, Alcide Jolivet chattered away as usual, with his\ninvariable good-humor. \"Faith, Mr. Korpanoff,\" said he, \"you have indeed\ngot us out of a bad scrape.\"\n\n\"I have only done, sir,\" replied Michael, \"what anyone would have done\nin my place.\"\n\n\"Well, sir, you have done us a good turn, and if you are going farther\nwe may possibly meet again, and--\"\n\nAlcide Jolivet did not put any direct question to Michael as to where\nhe was going, but the latter, not wishing it to be suspected that he had\nanything to conceal, at once replied, \"I am bound for Omsk, gentlemen.\"\n\n\"Mr. Blount and I,\" replied Alcide, \"go where danger is certainly to be\nfound, and without doubt news also.\"\n\n\"To the invaded provinces?\" asked Michael with some earnestness.\n\n\"Exactly so, Mr. Korpanoff; and we may possibly meet there.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir,\" replied Michael, \"I have little love for cannon-balls\nor lance points, and am by nature too great a lover of peace to venture\nwhere fighting is going on.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, sir, extremely sorry; we must only regret that we shall\nseparate so soon! But on leaving Ekaterenburg it may be our fortunate\nfate to travel together, if only for a few days?\"\n\n\"Do you go on to Omsk?\" asked Michael, after a moment's reflection.\n\n\"We know nothing as yet,\" replied Alcide; \"but we shall certainly go\nas far as Ishim, and once there, our movements must depend on\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well then, gentlemen,\" said Michael, \"we will be fellow-travelers as\nfar as Ishim.\"\n\nMichael would certainly have preferred to travel alone, but he could\nnot, without appearing at least singular, seek to separate himself from\nthe two reporters, who were taking the same road that he was. Besides,\nsince Alcide and his companion intended to make some stay at Ishim, he\nthought it rather convenient than otherwise to make that part of the\njourney in their company.\n\nThen in an indifferent tone he asked, \"Do you know, with any certainty,\nwhere this Tartar invasion is?\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir,\" replied Alcide, \"we only know what they said at Perm.\nFeofar-Khan's Tartars have invaded the whole province of Semipolatinsk,\nand for some days, by forced marches, have been descending the Irtish.\nYou must hurry if you wish to get to Omsk before them.\"\n\n\"Indeed I must,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"It is reported also that Colonel Ogareff has succeeded in passing the\nfrontier in disguise, and that he will not be slow in joining the Tartar\nchief in the revolted country.\"\n\n\"But how do they know it?\" asked Michael, whom this news, more or less\ntrue, so directly concerned.\n\n\"Oh! as these things are always known,\" replied Alcide; \"it is in the\nair.\"\n\n\"Then have you really reason to think that Colonel Ogareff is in\nSiberia?\"\n\n\"I myself have heard it said that he was to take the road from Kasan to\nEkaterenburg.\"\n\n\"Ah! you know that, Mr. Jolivet?\" said Harry Blount, roused from his\nsilence.\n\n\"I knew it,\" replied Alcide.\n\n\"And do you know that he went disguised as a gypsy!\" asked Blount.\n\n\"As a gypsy!\" exclaimed Michael, almost involuntarily, and he suddenly\nremembered the look of the old Bohemian at Nijni-Novgorod, his voyage on\nboard the Caucasus, and his disembarking at Kasan.\n\n\"Just well enough to make a few remarks on the subject in a letter to my\ncousin,\" replied Alcide, smiling.\n\n\"You lost no time at Kasan,\" dryly observed the Englishman.\n\n\"No, my dear fellow! and while the Caucasus was laying in her supply of\nfuel, I was employed in obtaining a store of information.\"\n\nMichael no longer listened to the repartee which Harry Blount and Alcide\nexchanged. He was thinking of the gypsy troupe, of the old Tsigane,\nwhose face he had not been able to see, and of the strange woman who\naccompanied him, and then of the peculiar glance which she had cast at\nhim. Suddenly, close by he heard a pistol-shot.\n\n\"Ah! forward, sirs!\" cried he.\n\n\"Hullo!\" said Alcide to himself, \"this quiet merchant who always avoids\nbullets is in a great hurry to go where they are flying about just now!\"\n\nQuickly followed by Harry Blount, who was not a man to be behind in\ndanger, he dashed after Michael. In another instant the three were\nopposite the projecting rock which protected the tarantass at the\nturning of the road.\n\nThe clump of pines struck by the lightning was still burning. There\nwas no one to be seen. However, Michael was not mistaken. Suddenly a\ndreadful growling was heard, and then another report.\n\n\"A bear;\" cried Michael, who could not mistake the growling. \"Nadia;\nNadia!\" And drawing his cutlass from his belt, Michael bounded round the\nbuttress behind which the young girl had promised to wait.\n\nThe pines, completely enveloped in flames, threw a wild glare on the\nscene. As Michael reached the tarantass, a huge animal retreated towards\nhim.\n\nIt was a monstrous bear. The tempest had driven it from the woods, and\nit had come to seek refuge in this cave, doubtless its habitual retreat,\nwhich Nadia then occupied.\n\nTwo of the horses, terrified at the presence of the enormous creature,\nbreaking their traces, had escaped, and the iemschik, thinking only\nof his beasts, leaving Nadia face to face with the bear, had gone in\npursuit of them.\n\nBut the brave girl had not lost her presence of mind. The animal, which\nhad not at first seen her, was attacking the remaining horse. Nadia,\nleaving the shelter in which she had been crouching, had run to the\ncarriage, taken one of Michael's revolvers, and, advancing resolutely\ntowards the bear, had fired close to it.\n\nThe animal, slightly wounded in the shoulder, turned on the girl, who\nrushed for protection behind the tarantass, but then, seeing that the\nhorse was attempting to break its traces, and knowing that if it did so,\nand the others were not recovered, their journey could not be continued,\nwith the most perfect coolness she again approached the bear, and, as it\nraised its paws to strike her down, gave it the contents of the second\nbarrel.\n\nThis was the report which Michael had just heard. In an instant he was\non the spot. Another bound and he was between the bear and the girl. His\narm made one movement upwards, and the enormous beast, ripped up by that\nterrible knife, fell to the ground a lifeless mass. He had executed in\nsplendid style the famous blow of the Siberian hunters, who endeavor not\nto damage the precious fur of the bear, which fetches a high price.\n\n\"You are not wounded, sister?\" said Michael, springing to the side of\nthe young girl.\n\n\"No, brother,\" replied Nadia.\n\nAt that moment the two journalists came up. Alcide seized the horse's\nhead, and, in an instant, his strong wrist mastered it. His companion\nand he had seen Michael's rapid stroke. \"Bravo!\" cried Alcide; \"for a\nsimple merchant, Mr. Korpanoff, you handle the hunter's knife in a most\nmasterly fashion.\"\n\n\"Most masterly, indeed,\" added Blount.\n\n\"In Siberia,\" replied Michael, \"we are obliged to do a little of\neverything.\"\n\nAlcide regarded him attentively. Seen in the bright glare, his knife\ndripping with blood, his tall figure, his foot firm on the huge carcass,\nhe was indeed worth looking at.\n\n\"A formidable fellow,\" said Alcide to himself. Then advancing\nrespectfully, he saluted the young girl.\n\nNadia bowed slightly.\n\nAlcide turned towards his companion. \"The sister worthy of the brother!\"\nsaid he. \"Now, were I a bear, I should not meddle with two so brave and\nso charming.\"\n\nHarry Blount, perfectly upright, stood, hat in hand, at some distance.\nHis companion's easy manners only increased his usual stiffness.\n\nAt that moment the iemschik, who had succeeded in recapturing his two\nhorses, reappeared. He cast a regretful glance at the magnificent animal\nlying on the ground, loth to leave it to the birds of prey, and then\nproceeded once more to harness his team.\n\nMichael acquainted him with the travelers' situation, and his intention\nof loaning one of the horses.\n\n\"As you please,\" replied the iemschik. \"Only, you know, two carriages\ninstead of one.\"\n\n\"All right, my friend,\" said Alcide, who understood the insinuation, \"we\nwill pay double.\"\n\n\"Then gee up, my turtle-doves!\" cried the iemschik.\n\nNadia again took her place in the tarantass. Michael and his companions\nfollowed on foot. It was three o'clock. The storm still swept with\nterrific violence across the defile. When the first streaks of\ndaybreak appeared the tarantass had reached the telga, which was still\nconscientiously imbedded as far as the center of the wheel. Such being\nthe case, it can be easily understood how a sudden jerk would separate\nthe front from the hinder part. One of the horses was now harnessed by\nmeans of cords to the remains of the telga, the reporters took their\nplace on the singular equipage, and the two carriages started off. They\nhad now only to descend the Ural slopes, in doing which there was not\nthe slightest difficulty.\n\nSix hours afterwards the two vehicles, the tarantass preceding the\ntelga, arrived at Ekaterenburg, nothing worthy of note having happened\nin the descent.\n\nThe first person the reporters perceived at the door of the post-house\nwas their iemschik, who appeared to be waiting for them. This worthy\nRussian had a fine open countenance, and he smilingly approached the\ntravelers, and, holding out his hand, in a quiet tone he demanded the\nusual \"pour-boire.\"\n\nThis very cool request roused Blount's ire to its highest pitch, and had\nnot the iemschik prudently retreated, a straight-out blow of the fist,\nin true British boxing style, would have paid his claim of \"na vodkou.\"\n\nAlcide Jolivet, at this burst of anger, laughed as he had never laughed\nbefore.\n\n\"But the poor devil is quite right!\" he cried. \"He is perfectly right,\nmy dear fellow. It is not his fault if we did not know how to follow\nhim!\"\n\nThen drawing several copecks from his pocket, \"Here my friend,\" said he,\nhanding them to the iemschik; \"take them. If you have not earned them,\nthat is not your fault.\"\n\nThis redoubled Mr. Blount's irritation. He even began to speak of a\nlawsuit against the owner of the telga.\n\n\"A lawsuit in Russia, my dear fellow!\" cried Alcide. \"Things must indeed\nchange should it ever be brought to a conclusion! Did you never hear the\nstory of the wet-nurse who claimed payment of twelve months' nursing of\nsome poor little infant?\"\n\n\"I never heard it,\" replied Harry Blount.\n\n\"Then you do not know what that suckling had become by the time judgment\nwas given in favor of the nurse?\"\n\n\"What was he, pray?\"\n\n\"Colonel of the Imperial Guard!\"\n\nAt this reply all burst into a laugh.\n\nAlcide, enchanted with his own joke, drew out his notebook, and in it\nwrote the following memorandum, destined to figure in a forthcoming\nFrench and Russian dictionary: \"Telga, a Russian carriage with four\nwheels, that is when it starts; with two wheels, when it arrives at its\ndestination.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII PROVOCATION\n\nEKATERENBURG, geographically, is an Asiatic city; for it is situated\nbeyond the Ural Mountains, on the farthest eastern slopes of the chain.\nNevertheless, it belongs to the government of Perm; and, consequently,\nis included in one of the great divisions of European Russia. It is as\nthough a morsel of Siberia lay in Russian jaws.\n\nNeither Michael nor his companions were likely to experience the\nslightest difficulty in obtaining means of continuing their journey in\nso large a town as Ekaterenburg. It was founded in 1723, and has since\nbecome a place of considerable size, for in it is the chief mint of the\nempire. There also are the headquarters of the officials employed in\nthe management of the mines. Thus the town is the center of an important\ndistrict, abounding in manufactories principally for the working and\nrefining of gold and platina.\n\nJust now the population of Ekaterenburg had greatly increased; many\nRussians and Siberians, menaced by the Tartar invasion, having collected\nthere. Thus, though it had been so troublesome a matter to find horses\nand vehicles when going to Ekaterenburg, there was no difficulty in\nleaving it; for under present circumstances few travelers cared to\nventure on the Siberian roads.\n\nSo it happened that Blount and Alcide had not the slightest trouble in\nreplacing, by a sound telga, the famous demi-carriage which had managed\nto take them to Ekaterenburg. As to Michael, he retained his tarantass,\nwhich was not much the worse for its journey across the Urals; and he\nhad only to harness three good horses to it to take him swiftly over the\nroad to Irkutsk.\n\nAs far as Tioumen, and even up to Novo-Zaimskoe, this road has slight\ninclines, which gentle undulations are the first signs of the slopes of\nthe Ural Mountains. But after Novo-Zaimskoe begins the immense steppe.\n\nAt Ichim, as we have said, the reporters intended to stop, that is\nat about four hundred and twenty miles from Ekaterenburg. There they\nintended to be guided by circumstances as to their route across the\ninvaded country, either together or separately, according as their\nnews-hunting instinct set them on one track or another.\n\nThis road from Ekaterenburg to Ichim--which passes through Irkutsk--was\nthe only one which Michael could take. But, as he did not run after\nnews, and wished, on the contrary, to avoid the country devastated by\nthe invaders, he determined to stop nowhere.\n\n\"I am very happy to make part of my journey in your company,\" said he to\nhis new companions, \"but I must tell you that I am most anxious to reach\nOmsk; for my sister and I are going to rejoin our mother. Who can\nsay whether we shall arrive before the Tartars reach the town! I must\ntherefore stop at the post-houses only long enough to change horses, and\nmust travel day and night.\"\n\n\"That is exactly what we intend doing,\" replied Blount.\n\n\"Good,\" replied Michael; \"but do not lose an instant. Buy or hire a\ncarriage whose--\"\n\n\"Whose hind wheels,\" added Alcide, \"are warranted to arrive at the same\ntime as its front wheels.\"\n\nHalf an hour afterwards the energetic Frenchman had found a tarantass in\nwhich he and his companion at once seated themselves. Michael and Nadia\nonce more entered their own carriage, and at twelve o'clock the two\nvehicles left the town of Ekaterenburg together.\n\nNadia was at last in Siberia, on that long road which led to Irkutsk.\nWhat must then have been the thoughts of the young girl? Three strong\nswift horses were taking her across that land of exile where her parent\nwas condemned to live, for how long she knew not, and so far from his\nnative land. But she scarcely noticed those long steppes over which the\ntarantass was rolling, and which at one time she had despaired of ever\nseeing, for her eyes were gazing at the horizon, beyond which she knew\nher banished father was. She saw nothing of the country across which she\nwas traveling at the rate of fifteen versts an hour; nothing of these\nregions of Western Siberia, so different from those of the east. Here,\nindeed, were few cultivated fields; the soil was poor, at least at the\nsurface, but in its bowels lay hid quantities of iron, copper, platina,\nand gold. How can hands be found to cultivate the land, when it pays\nbetter to burrow beneath the earth? The pickaxe is everywhere at work;\nthe spade nowhere.\n\nHowever, Nadia's thoughts sometimes left the provinces of Lake Baikal,\nand returned to her present situation. Her father's image faded away,\nand was replaced by that of her generous companion as he first appeared\non the Vladimir railroad. She recalled his attentions during that\njourney, his arrival at the police-station, the hearty simplicity with\nwhich he had called her sister, his kindness to her in the descent of\nthe Volga, and then all that he did for her on that terrible night of\nthe storm in the Urals, when he saved her life at the peril of his own.\n\nThus Nadia thought of Michael. She thanked God for having given her such\na gallant protector, a friend so generous and wise. She knew that she\nwas safe with him, under his protection. No brother could have done\nmore than he. All obstacles seemed cleared away; the performance of her\njourney was but a matter of time.\n\nMichael remained buried in thought. He also thanked God for having\nbrought about this meeting with Nadia, which at the same time enabled\nhim to do a good action, and afforded him additional means for\nconcealing his true character. He delighted in the young girl's calm\nintrepidity. Was she not indeed his sister? His feeling towards his\nbeautiful and brave companion was rather respect than affection. He felt\nthat hers was one of those pure and rare hearts which are held by all in\nhigh esteem.\n\nHowever, Michael's dangers were now beginning, since he had reached\nSiberian ground. If the reporters were not mistaken, if Ivan Ogareff had\nreally passed the frontier, all his actions must be made with extreme\ncaution. Things were now altered; Tartar spies swarmed in the Siberian\nprovinces. His incognito once discovered, his character as courier of\nthe Czar known, there was an end of his journey, and probably of his\nlife. Michael felt now more than ever the weight of his responsibility.\n\nWhile such were the thoughts of those occupying the first carriage, what\nwas happening in the second? Nothing out of the way. Alcide spoke in\nsentences; Blount replied by monosyllables. Each looked at everything\nin his own light, and made notes of such incidents as occurred on the\njourney--few and but slightly varied--while they crossed the provinces\nof Western Siberia.\n\nAt each relay the reporters descended from their carriage and found\nthemselves with Michael. Except when meals were to be taken at the\npost-houses, Nadia did not leave the tarantass. When obliged to\nbreakfast or dine, she sat at table, but was always very reserved, and\nseldom joined in conversation.\n\nAlcide, without going beyond the limits of strict propriety, showed that\nhe was greatly struck by the young girl. He admired the silent energy\nwhich she showed in bearing all the fatigues of so difficult a journey.\n\nThe forced stoppages were anything but agreeable to Michael; so he\nhastened the departure at each relay, roused the innkeepers, urged on\nthe iemschiks, and expedited the harnessing of the tarantass. Then the\nhurried meal over--always much too hurried to agree with Blount, who was\na methodical eater--they started, and were driven as eagles, for they\npaid like princes.\n\nIt need scarcely be said that Blount did not trouble himself about the\ngirl at table. That gentleman was not in the habit of doing two things\nat once. She was also one of the few subjects of conversation which he\ndid not care to discuss with his companion.\n\nAlcide having asked him, on one occasion, how old he thought the girl,\n\"What girl?\" he replied, quite seriously.\n\n\"Why, Nicholas Korpanoff's sister.\"\n\n\"Is she his sister?\"\n\n\"No; his grandmother!\" replied Alcide, angry at his indifference. \"What\nage should you consider her?\"\n\n\"Had I been present at her birth I might have known.\"\n\nVery few of the Siberian peasants were to be seen in the fields. These\npeasants are remarkable for their pale, grave faces, which a celebrated\ntraveler has compared to those of the Castilians, without the\nhaughtiness of the latter. Here and there some villages already deserted\nindicated the approach of the Tartar hordes. The inhabitants, having\ndriven off their flocks of sheep, their camels, and their horses, were\ntaking refuge in the plains of the north. Some tribes of the wandering\nKirghiz, who remained faithful, had transported their tents beyond the\nIrtych, to escape the depredations of the invaders.\n\nHappily, post traveling was as yet uninterrupted; and telegraphic\ncommunication could still be effected between places connected with the\nwire. At each relay horses were to be had on the usual conditions. At\neach telegraphic station the clerks transmitted messages delivered to\nthem, delaying for State dispatches alone.\n\nThus far, then, Michael's journey had been accomplished satisfactorily.\nThe courier of the Czar had in no way been impeded; and, if he could\nonly get on to Krasnoiarsk, which seemed the farthest point attained by\nFeofar-Khan's Tartars, he knew that he could arrive at Irkutsk, before\nthem. The day after the two carriages had left Ekaterenburg they reached\nthe small town of Toulouguisk at seven o'clock in the morning, having\ncovered two hundred and twenty versts, no event worthy of mention having\noccurred. The same evening, the 22d of July, they arrived at Tioumen.\n\nTioumen, whose population is usually ten thousand inhabitants,\nthen contained double that number. This, the first industrial town\nestablished by the Russians in Siberia, in which may be seen a fine\nmetal-refining factory and a bell foundry, had never before presented\nsuch an animated appearance. The correspondents immediately went off\nafter news. That brought by Siberian fugitives from the seat of war was\nfar from reassuring. They said, amongst other things, that Feofar-Khan's\narmy was rapidly approaching the valley of the Ichim, and they confirmed\nthe report that the Tartar chief was soon to be joined by Colonel\nOgareff, if he had not been so already. Hence the conclusion was\nthat operations would be pushed in Eastern Siberia with the greatest\nactivity. However, the loyal Cossacks of the government of Tobolsk were\nadvancing by forced marches towards Tomsk, in the hope of cutting off\nthe Tartar columns.\n\nAt midnight the town of Novo-Saimsk was reached; and the travelers now\nleft behind them the country broken by tree-covered hills, the last\nremains of the Urals.\n\nHere began the regular Siberian steppe which extends to the neighborhood\nof Krasnoiarsk. It is a boundless plain, a vast grassy desert; earth\nand sky here form a circle as distinct as that traced by a sweep of the\ncompasses. The steppe presents nothing to attract notice but the long\nline of the telegraph posts, their wires vibrating in the breeze like\nthe strings of a harp. The road could be distinguished from the rest of\nthe plain only by the clouds of fine dust which rose under the wheels\nof the tarantass. Had it not been for this white riband, which stretched\naway as far as the eye could reach, the travelers might have thought\nthemselves in a desert.\n\nMichael and his companions again pressed rapidly forward. The horses,\nurged on by the iemschik, seemed to fly over the ground, for there\nwas not the slightest obstacle to impede them. The tarantass was going\nstraight for Ichim, where the two correspondents intended to stop, if\nnothing happened to make them alter their plans.\n\nA hundred and twenty miles separated Novo-Saimsk from the town of Ichim,\nand before eight o'clock the next evening the distance could and should\nbe accomplished if no time was lost. In the opinion of the iemschiks,\nshould the travelers not be great lords or high functionaries, they were\nworthy of being so, if it was only for their generosity in the matter of\n\"na vodkou.\"\n\nOn the afternoon of the next day, the 23rd of July, the two carriages\nwere not more than thirty versts from Ichim. Suddenly Michael\ncaught sight of a carriage--scarcely visible among the clouds of\ndust--preceding them along the road. As his horses were evidently less\nfatigued than those of the other traveler, he would not be long\nin overtaking it. This was neither a tarantass nor a telga, but\na post-berlin, which looked as if it had made a long journey. The\npostillion was thrashing his horses with all his might, and only kept\nthem at a gallop by dint of abuse and blows. The berlin had certainly\nnot passed through Novo-Saimsk, and could only have struck the Irkutsk\nroad by some less frequented route across the steppe.\n\nOur travelers' first thought, on seeing this berlin, was to get in\nfront of it, and arrive first at the relay, so as to make sure of fresh\nhorses. They said a word to their iemschiks, who soon brought them up\nwith the berlin.\n\nMichael Strogoff came up first. As he passed, a head was thrust out of\nthe window of the berlin.\n\nHe had not time to see what it was like, but as he dashed by he\ndistinctly heard this word, uttered in an imperious tone: \"Stop!\"\n\nBut they did not stop; on the contrary, the berlin was soon distanced by\nthe two tarantasses.\n\nIt now became a regular race; for the horses of the berlin--no doubt\nexcited by the sight and pace of the others--recovered their strength\nand kept up for some minutes. The three carriages were hidden in a\ncloud of dust. From this cloud issued the cracking of whips mingled with\nexcited shouts and exclamations of anger.\n\nNevertheless, the advantage remained with Michael and his companions,\nwhich might be very important to them if the relay was poorly provided\nwith horses. Two carriages were perhaps more than the postmaster could\nprovide for, at least in a short space of time.\n\nHalf an hour after the berlin was left far behind, looking only a speck\non the horizon of the steppe.\n\nIt was eight o'clock in the evening when the two carriages reached\nIchim. The news was worse and worse with regard to the invasion. The\ntown itself was menaced by the Tartar vanguard; and two days before the\nauthorities had been obliged to retreat to Tobolsk. There was not an\nofficer nor a soldier left in Ichim.\n\nOn arriving at the relay, Michael Strogoff immediately asked for horses.\nHe had been fortunate in distancing the berlin. Only three horses were\nfit to be harnessed. The others had just come in worn out from a long\nstage.\n\nAs the two correspondents intended to stop at Ichim, they had not to\ntrouble themselves to find transport, and had their carriage put away.\nIn ten minutes Michael was told that his tarantass was ready to start.\n\n\"Good,\" said he.\n\nThen turning to the two reporters: \"Well, gentlemen, the time is come\nfor us to separate.\"\n\n\"What, Mr. Korpanoff,\" said Alcide Jolivet, \"shall you not stop even for\nan hour at Ichim?\"\n\n\"No, sir; and I also wish to leave the post-house before the arrival of\nthe berlin which we distanced.\"\n\n\"Are you afraid that the traveler will dispute the horses with you?\"\n\n\"I particularly wish to avoid any difficulty.\"\n\n\"Then, Mr. Korpanoff,\" said Jolivet, \"it only remains for us to thank\nyou once more for the service you rendered us, and the pleasure we have\nhad in traveling with you.\"\n\n\"It is possible that we shall meet you again in a few days at Omsk,\"\nadded Blount.\n\n\"It is possible,\" answered Michael, \"since I am going straight there.\"\n\n\"Well, I wish you a safe journey, Mr. Korpanoff,\" said Alcide, \"and\nHeaven preserve you from telgas.\"\n\nThe two reporters held out their hands to Michael with the intention of\ncordially shaking his, when the sound of a carriage was heard outside.\nAlmost immediately the door was flung open and a man appeared.\n\nIt was the traveler of the berlin, a military-looking man, apparently\nabout forty years of age, tall, robust in figure, broad-shouldered, with\na strongly-set head, and thick mus-taches meeting red whiskers. He wore\na plain uniform. A cavalry saber hung at his side, and in his hand he\nheld a short-handled whip.\n\n\"Horses,\" he demanded, with the air of a man accustomed to command.\n\n\"I have no more disposable horses,\" answered the postmaster, bowing.\n\n\"I must have some this moment.\"\n\n\"It is impossible.\"\n\n\"What are those horses which have just been harnessed to the tarantass I\nsaw at the door?\"\n\n\"They belong to this traveler,\" answered the postmaster, pointing to\nMichael Strogoff.\n\n\"Take them out!\" said the traveler in a tone which admitted of no reply.\n\nMichael then advanced.\n\n\"These horses are engaged by me,\" he said.\n\n\"What does that matter? I must have them. Come, be quick; I have no time\nto lose.\"\n\n\"I have no time to lose either,\" replied Michael, restraining himself\nwith difficulty.\n\nNadia was near him, calm also, but secretly uneasy at a scene which it\nwould have been better to avoid.\n\n\"Enough!\" said the traveler. Then, going up to the postmaster, \"Let the\nhorses be put into my berlin,\" he exclaimed with a threatening gesture.\n\nThe postmaster, much embarrassed, did not know whom to obey, and looked\nat Michael, who evidently had the right to resist the unjust demands of\nthe traveler.\n\nMichael hesitated an instant. He did not wish to make use of his\npodorojna, which would have drawn attention to him, and he was most\nunwilling also, by giving up his horses, to delay his journey, and yet\nhe must not engage in a struggle which might compromise his mission.\n\nThe two reporters looked at him ready to support him should he appeal to\nthem.\n\n\"My horses will remain in my carriage,\" said Michael, but without\nraising his tone more than would be suitable for a plain Irkutsk\nmerchant.\n\nThe traveler advanced towards Michael and laid his hand heavily on his\nshoulder. \"Is it so?\" he said roughly. \"You will not give up your horses\nto me?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Michael.\n\n\"Very well, they shall belong to whichever of us is able to start.\nDefend yourself; I shall not spare you!\"\n\nSo saying, the traveler drew his saber from its sheath, and Nadia threw\nherself before Michael.\n\nBlount and Alcide Jolivet advanced towards him.\n\n\"I shall not fight,\" said Michael quietly, folding his arms across his\nchest.\n\n\"You will not fight?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Not even after this?\" exclaimed the traveler. And before anyone could\nprevent him, he struck Michael's shoulder with the handle of the whip.\nAt this insult Michael turned deadly pale. His hands moved convulsively\nas if he would have knocked the brute down. But by a tremendous effort\nhe mastered himself. A duel! it was more than a delay; it was perhaps\nthe failure of his mission. It would be better to lose some hours. Yes;\nbut to swallow this affront!\n\n\"Will you fight now, coward?\" repeated the traveler, adding coarseness\nto brutality.\n\n\"No,\" answered Michael, without moving, but looking the other straight\nin the face.\n\n\"The horses this moment,\" said the man, and left the room.\n\nThe postmaster followed him, after shrugging his shoulders and bestowing\non Michael a glance of anything but approbation.\n\nThe effect produced on the reporters by this incident was not to\nMichael's advantage. Their discomfiture was visible. How could this\nstrong young man allow himself to be struck like that and not demand\nsatisfaction for such an insult? They contented themselves with bowing\nto him and retired, Jolivet remarking to Harry Blount\n\n\"I could not have believed that of a man who is so skillful in finishing\nup Ural Mountain bears. Is it the case that a man can be courageous at\none time and a coward at another? It is quite incomprehensible.\"\n\nA moment afterwards the noise of wheels and whip showed that the berlin,\ndrawn by the tarantass' horses, was driving rapidly away from the\npost-house.\n\nNadia, unmoved, and Michael, still quivering, remained alone in the\nroom. The courier of the Czar, his arms crossed over his chest was\nseated motionless as a statue. A color, which could not have been the\nblush of shame, had replaced the paleness on his countenance.\n\nNadia did not doubt that powerful reasons alone could have allowed him\nto suffer so great a humiliation from such a man. Going up to him as he\nhad come to her in the police-station at Nijni-Novgorod:\n\n\"Your hand, brother,\" said she.\n\nAnd at the same time her hand, with an almost maternal gesture, wiped\naway a tear which sprang to her companion's eye.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII DUTY BEFORE EVERYTHING\n\nNADIA, with the clear perception of a right-minded woman, guessed that\nsome secret motive directed all Michael Strogoff's actions; that he,\nfor a reason unknown to her, did not belong to himself; and that in\nthis instance especially he had heroically sacrificed to duty even his\nresentment at the gross injury he had received.\n\nNadia, therefore, asked no explanation from Michael. Had not the hand\nwhich she had extended to him already replied to all that he might have\nbeen able to tell her?\n\nMichael remained silent all the evening. The postmaster not being able\nto supply them with fresh horses until the next morning, a whole night\nmust be passed at the house. Nadia could profit by it to take some rest,\nand a room was therefore prepared for her.\n\nThe young girl would no doubt have preferred not to leave her companion,\nbut she felt that he would rather be alone, and she made ready to go to\nher room.\n\nJust as she was about to retire she could not refrain from going up to\nMichael to say good-night.\n\n\"Brother,\" she whispered. But he checked her with a gesture. The girl\nsighed and left the room.\n\nMichael Strogoff did not lie down. He could not have slept even for an\nhour. The place on which he had been struck by the brutal traveler felt\nlike a burn.\n\n\"For my country and the Father,\" he muttered as he ended his evening\nprayer.\n\nHe especially felt a great wish to know who was the man who had struck\nhim, whence he came, and where he was going. As to his face, the\nfeatures of it were so deeply engraven on his memory that he had no fear\nof ever forgetting them.\n\nMichael Strogoff at last asked for the postmaster. The latter,\na Siberian of the old type, came directly, and looking rather\ncontemptuously at the young man, waited to be questioned.\n\n\"You belong to the country?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Do you know that man who took my horses?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Had you never seen him before?\"\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n\"Who do you think he was?\"\n\n\"A man who knows how to make himself obeyed.\"\n\nMichael fixed his piercing gaze upon the Siberian, but the other did not\nquail before it.\n\n\"Do you dare to judge me?\" exclaimed Michael.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the Siberian, \"there are some things even a plain\nmerchant cannot receive without returning.\"\n\n\"Blows?\"\n\n\"Blows, young man. I am of an age and strength to tell you so.\"\n\nMichael went up to the postmaster and laid his two powerful hands on his\nshoulders.\n\nThen in a peculiarly calm tone, \"Be off, my friend,\" said he: \"be off! I\ncould kill you.\"\n\nThe postmaster understood. \"I like him better for that,\" he muttered and\nretired without another word.\n\nAt eight o'clock the next morning, the 24th of July, three strong horses\nwere harnessed to the tarantass. Michael Strogoff and Nadia took their\nplaces, and Ichim, with its disagreeable remembrances, was soon left far\nbehind.\n\nAt the different relays at which they stopped during the day Strogoff\nascertained that the berlin still preceded them on the road to Irkutsk,\nand that the traveler, as hurried as they were, never lost a minute in\npursuing his way across the steppe.\n\nAt four o'clock in the evening they reached Abatskaia, fifty miles\nfarther on, where the Ichim, one of the principal affluents of the\nIrtych, had to be crossed. This passage was rather more difficult than\nthat of the Tobol. Indeed the current of the Ichim was very rapid just\nat that place. During the Siberian winter, the rivers being all frozen\nto a thickness of several feet, they are easily practicable, and the\ntraveler even crosses them without being aware of the fact, for their\nbeds have disappeared under the snowy sheet spread uniformly over the\nsteppe; but in summer the difficulties of crossing are sometimes great.\n\nIn fact, two hours were taken up in making the passage of the Ichim,\nwhich much exasperated Michael, especially as the boatmen gave them\nalarming news of the Tartar invasion. Some of Feofar-Khan's scouts had\nalready appeared on both banks of the lower Ichim, in the southern parts\nof the government of Tobolsk. Omsk was threatened. They spoke of an\nengagement which had taken place between the Siberian and Tartar troops\non the frontier of the great Kirghese horde--an engagement not to the\nadvantage of the Russians, who were weak in numbers. The troops had\nretreated thence, and in consequence there had been a general emigration\nof all the peasants of the province. The boatmen spoke of horrible\natrocities committed by the invaders--pillage, theft, incendiarism,\nmurder. Such was the system of Tartar warfare.\n\nThe people all fled before Feofar-Khan. Michael Strogoff's great fear\nwas lest, in the depopulation of the towns, he should be unable to\nobtain the means of transport. He was therefore extremely anxious to\nreach Omsk. Perhaps there they would get the start of the Tartar scouts,\nwho were coming down the valley of the Irtych, and would find the road\nopen to Irkutsk.\n\nJust at the place where the tarantass crossed the river ended what is\ncalled, in military language, the \"Ichim chain\"--a chain of towers, or\nlittle wooden forts, extending from the southern frontier of Siberia\nfor a distance of nearly four hundred versts. Formerly these forts were\noccupied by detachments of Cossacks, and they protected the country\nagainst the Kirghese, as well as against the Tartars. But since the\nMuscovite Government had believed these hordes reduced to absolute\nsubmission, they had been abandoned, and now could not be used; just at\nthe time when they were needed. Many of these forts had been reduced to\nashes; and the boatmen even pointed out the smoke to Michael, rising\nin the southern horizon, and showing the approach of the Tartar\nadvance-guard.\n\nAs soon as the ferryboat landed the tarantass on the right bank of the\nIchim, the journey across the steppe was resumed with all speed. Michael\nStrogoff remained very silent. He was, however, always attentive to\nNadia, helping her to bear the fatigue of this long journey without\nbreak or rest; but the girl never complained. She longed to give wings\nto the horses. Something told her that her companion was even more\nanxious than herself to reach Irkutsk; and how many versts were still\nbetween!\n\nIt also occurred to her that if Omsk was entered by the Tartars,\nMichael's mother, who lived there, would be in danger, and that this was\nsufficient to explain her son's impatience to get to her.\n\nNadia at last spoke to him of old Marfa, and of how unprotected she\nwould be in the midst of all these events.\n\n\"Have you received any news of your mother since the beginning of the\ninvasion?\" she asked.\n\n\"None, Nadia. The last letter my mother wrote to me contained good news.\nMarfa is a brave and energetic Siberian woman. Notwithstanding her age,\nshe has preserved all her moral strength. She knows how to suffer.\"\n\n\"I shall see her, brother,\" said Nadia quickly. \"Since you give me the\nname of sister, I am Marfa's daughter.\"\n\nAnd as Michael did not answer she added:\n\n\"Perhaps your mother has been able to leave Omsk?\"\n\n\"It is possible, Nadia,\" replied Michael; \"and I hope she may have\nreached Tobolsk. Marfa hates the Tartars. She knows the steppe, and\nwould have no fear in just taking her staff and going down the banks of\nthe Irtych. There is not a spot in all the province unknown to her. Many\ntimes has she traveled all over the country with my father; and many\ntimes I myself, when a mere child, have accompanied them across the\nSiberian desert. Yes, Nadia, I trust that my mother has left Omsk.\"\n\n\"And when shall you see her?\"\n\n\"I shall see her--on my return.\"\n\n\"If, however, your mother is still at Omsk, you will be able to spare an\nhour to go to her?\"\n\n\"I shall not go and see her.\"\n\n\"You will not see her?\"\n\n\"No, Nadia,\" said Michael, his chest heaving as he felt he could not go\non replying to the girl's questions.\n\n\"You say no! Why, brother, if your mother is still at Omsk, for what\nreason could you refuse to see her?\"\n\n\"For what reason, Nadia? You ask me for what reason,\" exclaimed Michael,\nin so changed a voice that the young girl started. \"For the same reason\nas that which made me patient even to cowardice with the villain who--\"\nHe could not finish his sentence.\n\n\"Calm yourself, brother,\" said Nadia in a gentle voice. \"I only know\none thing, or rather I do not know it, I feel it. It is that all your\nconduct is now directed by the sentiment of a duty more sacred--if there\ncan be one--than that which unites the son to the mother.\"\n\nNadia was silent, and from that moment avoided every subject which in\nany way touched on Michael's peculiar situation. He had a secret motive\nwhich she must respect. She respected it.\n\nThe next day, July 25th, at three o'clock in the morning, the tarantass\narrived at Tioukalmsk, having accomplished a distance of eighty miles\nsince it had crossed the Ichim. They rapidly changed horses. Here,\nhowever, for the first time, the iemschik made difficulties about\nstarting, declaring that detachments of Tartars were roving across the\nsteppe, and that travelers, horses, and carriages would be a fine prize\nfor them.\n\nOnly by dint of a large bribe could Michael get over the unwillingness\nof the iemschik, for in this instance, as in many others, he did not\nwish to show his podorojna. The last ukase, having been transmitted by\ntelegraph, was known in the Siberian provinces; and a Russian specially\nexempted from obeying these words would certainly have drawn public\nattention to himself--a thing above all to be avoided by the Czar's\ncourier. As to the iemschik's hesitation, either the rascal traded on\nthe traveler's impatience or he really had good reason to fear.\n\nHowever, at last the tarantass started, and made such good way that by\nthree in the afternoon it had reached Koulatsinskoe, fifty miles farther\non. An hour after this it was on the banks of the Irtych. Omsk was now\nonly fourteen miles distant.\n\nThe Irtych is a large river, and one of the principal of those which\nflow towards the north of Asia. Rising in the Altai Mountains, it flows\nfrom the southeast to the northwest and empties itself into the Obi,\nafter a course of four thousand miles.\n\nAt this time of year, when all the rivers of the Siberian basin are much\nswollen, the waters of the Irtych were very high. In consequence\nthe current was changed to a regular torrent, rendering the passage\ndifficult enough. A swimmer could not have crossed, however powerful;\nand even in a ferryboat there would be some danger.\n\nBut Michael and Nadia, determined to brave all perils whatever they\nmight be, did not dream of shrinking from this one. Michael proposed\nto his young companion that he should cross first, embarking in the\nferryboat with the tarantass and horses, as he feared that the weight of\nthis load would render it less safe. After landing the carriage he would\nreturn and fetch Nadia.\n\nThe girl refused. It would be the delay of an hour, and she would not,\nfor her safety alone, be the cause of it.\n\nThe embarkation was made not without difficulty, for the banks were\npartly flooded and the boat could not get in near enough. However, after\nhalf an hour's exertion, the boatmen got the tarantass and the three\nhorses on board. The passengers embarked also, and they shoved off.\n\nFor a few minutes all went well. A little way up the river the current\nwas broken by a long point projecting from the bank, and forming an eddy\neasily crossed by the boat. The two boatmen propelled their barge with\nlong poles, which they handled cleverly; but as they gained the middle\nof the stream it grew deeper and deeper, until at last they could only\njust reach the bottom. The ends of the poles were only a foot above the\nwater, which rendered their use difficult. Michael and Nadia, seated\nin the stern of the boat, and always in dread of a delay, watched the\nboatmen with some uneasiness.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried one of them to his comrade.\n\nThe shout was occasioned by the new direction the boat was rapidly\ntaking. It had got into the direct current and was being swept down the\nriver. By diligent use of the poles, putting the ends in a series of\nnotches cut below the gunwale, the boatmen managed to keep the craft\nagainst the stream, and slowly urged it in a slanting direction towards\nthe right bank.\n\nThey calculated on reaching it some five or six versts below the landing\nplace; but, after all, that would not matter so long as men and beasts\ncould disembark without accident. The two stout boatmen, stimulated\nmoreover by the promise of double fare, did not doubt of succeeding in\nthis difficult passage of the Irtych.\n\nBut they reckoned without an accident which they were powerless to\nprevent, and neither their zeal nor their skill-fulness could, under the\ncircumstances, have done more.\n\nThe boat was in the middle of the current, at nearly equal distances\nfrom either shore, and being carried down at the rate of two versts an\nhour, when Michael, springing to his feet, bent his gaze up the river.\n\nSeveral boats, aided by oars as well as by the current, were coming\nswiftly down upon them.\n\nMichael's brow contracted, and a cry escaped him.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" asked the girl.\n\nBut before Michael had time to reply one of the boatmen exclaimed in an\naccent of terror:\n\n\"The Tartars! the Tartars!\"\n\nThere were indeed boats full of soldiers, and in a few minutes they must\nreach the ferryboat, it being too heavily laden to escape from them.\n\nThe terrified boatmen uttered exclamations of despair and dropped their\npoles.\n\n\"Courage, my friends!\" cried Michael; \"courage! Fifty roubles for you if\nwe reach the right bank before the boats overtake us.\"\n\nIncited by these words, the boatmen again worked manfully but it soon\nbecome evident that they could not escape the Tartars.\n\nIt was scarcely probable that they would pass without attacking them.\nOn the contrary, there was everything to be feared from robbers such as\nthese.\n\n\"Do not be afraid, Nadia,\" said Michael; \"but be ready for anything.\"\n\n\"I am ready,\" replied Nadia.\n\n\"Even to leap into the water when I tell you?\"\n\n\"Whenever you tell me.\"\n\n\"Have confidence in me, Nadia.\"\n\n\"I have, indeed!\"\n\nThe Tartar boats were now only a hundred feet distant. They carried a\ndetachment of Bokharian soldiers, on their way to reconnoiter around\nOmsk.\n\nThe ferryboat was still two lengths from the shore. The boatmen\nredoubled their efforts. Michael himself seized a pole and wielded it\nwith superhuman strength. If he could land the tarantass and horses, and\ndash off with them, there was some chance of escaping the Tartars, who\nwere not mounted.\n\nBut all their efforts were in vain. \"Saryn na kitchou!\" shouted the\nsoldiers from the first boat.\n\nMichael recognized the Tartar war-cry, which is usually answered by\nlying flat on the ground. As neither he nor the boatmen obeyed a volley\nwas let fly, and two of the horses were mortally wounded.\n\nAt the next moment a violent blow was felt. The boats had run into the\nferryboat.\n\n\"Come, Nadia!\" cried Michael, ready to jump overboard.\n\nThe girl was about to follow him, when a blow from a lance struck him,\nand he was thrown into the water. The current swept him away, his hand\nraised for an instant above the waves, and then he disappeared.\n\nNadia uttered a cry, but before she had time to throw herself after\nhim she was seized and dragged into one of the boats. The boatmen were\nkilled, the ferryboat left to drift away, and the Tartars continued to\ndescend the Irtych.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV MOTHER AND SON\n\nOMSK is the official capital of Western Siberia. It is not the most\nimportant city of the government of that name, for Tomsk has more\ninhabitants and is larger. But it is at Omsk that the Governor-General\nof this the first half of Asiatic Russia resides. Omsk, properly so\ncalled, is composed of two distinct towns: one which is exclusively\ninhabited by the authorities and officials; the other more especially\ndevoted to the Siberian merchants, although, indeed, the trade of the\ntown is of small importance.\n\nThis city has about 12,000 to 13,000 inhabitants. It is defended by\nwalls, but these are merely of earth, and could afford only insufficient\nprotection. The Tartars, who were well aware of this fact, consequently\ntried at this period to carry it by main force, and in this they\nsucceeded, after an investment of a few days.\n\nThe garrison of Omsk, reduced to two thousand men, resisted valiantly.\nBut driven back, little by little, from the mercantile portion of the\nplace, they were compelled to take refuge in the upper town.\n\nIt was there that the Governor-General, his officers, and soldiers had\nentrenched themselves. They had made the upper quarter of Omsk a kind of\ncitadel, and hitherto they held out well in this species of improvised\n\"kreml,\" but without much hope of the promised succor. The Tartar\ntroops, who were descending the Irtych, received every day fresh\nreinforcements, and, what was more serious, they were led by an officer,\na traitor to his country, but a man of much note, and of an audacity\nequal to any emergency. This man was Colonel Ivan Ogareff.\n\nIvan Ogareff, terrible as any of the most savage Tartar chieftains,\nwas an educated soldier. Possessing on his mother's side some Mongolian\nblood, he delighted in deceptive strategy and ambuscades, stopping short\nof nothing when he desired to fathom some secret or to set some trap.\nDeceitful by nature, he willingly had recourse to the vilest trickery;\nlying when occasion demanded, excelling in the adoption of all disguises\nand in every species of deception. Further, he was cruel, and had even\nacted as an executioner. Feofar-Khan possessed in him a lieutenant well\ncapable of seconding his designs in this savage war.\n\nWhen Michael Strogoff arrived on the banks of the Irtych, Ivan Ogareff\nwas already master of Omsk, and was pressing the siege of the upper\nquarter of the town all the more eagerly because he must hasten to\nTomsk, where the main body of the Tartar army was concentrated.\n\nTomsk, in fact, had been taken by Feofar-Khan some days previously, and\nit was thence that the invaders, masters of Central Siberia, were to\nmarch upon Irkutsk.\n\nIrkutsk was the real object of Ivan Ogareff. The plan of the traitor was\nto reach the Grand Duke under a false name, to gain his confidence, and\nto deliver into Tartar hands the town and the Grand Duke himself. With\nsuch a town, and such a hostage, all Asiatic Siberia must necessarily\nfall into the hands of the invaders. Now it was known that the Czar\nwas acquainted with this conspiracy, and that it was for the purpose\nof baffling it that a courier had been intrusted with the important\nwarning. Hence, therefore, the very stringent instructions which had\nbeen given to the young courier to pass incognito through the invaded\ndistrict.\n\nThis mission he had so far faithfully performed, but now could he carry\nit to a successful completion?\n\nThe blow which had struck Michael Strogoff was not mortal. By swimming\nin a manner by which he had effectually concealed himself, he had\nreached the right bank, where he fell exhausted among the bushes.\n\nWhen he recovered his senses, he found himself in the cabin of a mujik,\nwho had picked him up and cared for him. For how long a time had he been\nthe guest of this brave Siberian? He could not guess. But when he\nopened his eyes he saw the handsome bearded face bending over him, and\nregarding him with pitying eyes. \"Do not speak, little father,\" said the\nmujik, \"Do not speak! Thou art still too weak. I will tell thee where\nthou art and everything that has passed.\"\n\nAnd the mujik related to Michael Strogoff the different incidents of the\nstruggle which he had witnessed--the attack upon the ferry by the Tartar\nboats, the pillage of the tarantass, and the massacre of the boatmen.\n\nBut Michael Strogoff listened no longer, and slipping his hand under\nhis garment he felt the imperial letter still secured in his breast. He\nbreathed a sigh of relief.\n\nBut that was not all. \"A young girl accompanied me,\" said he.\n\n\"They have not killed her,\" replied the mujik, anticipating the anxiety\nwhich he read in the eyes of his guest. \"They have carried her off in\ntheir boat, and have continued the descent of Irtych. It is only one\nprisoner more to join the many they are taking to Tomsk!\"\n\nMichael Strogoff was unable to reply. He pressed his hand upon his heart\nto restrain its beating. But, notwithstanding these many trials, the\nsentiment of duty mastered his whole soul. \"Where am I?\" asked he.\n\n\"Upon the right bank of the Irtych, only five versts from Omsk,\" replied\nthe mujik.\n\n\"What wound can I have received which could have thus prostrated me? It\nwas not a gunshot wound?\"\n\n\"No; a lance-thrust in the head, now healing,\" replied the mujik. \"After\na few days' rest, little father, thou wilt be able to proceed. Thou\ndidst fall into the river; but the Tartars neither touched nor searched\nthee; and thy purse is still in thy pocket.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff gripped the mujik's hand. Then, recovering himself with\na sudden effort, \"Friend,\" said he, \"how long have I been in thy hut?\"\n\n\"Three days.\"\n\n\"Three days lost!\"\n\n\"Three days hast thou lain unconscious.\"\n\n\"Hast thou a horse to sell me?\"\n\n\"Thou wishest to go?\"\n\n\"At once.\"\n\n\"I have neither horse nor carriage, little father. Where the Tartar has\npassed there remains nothing!\"\n\n\"Well, I will go on foot to Omsk to find a horse.\"\n\n\"A few more hours of rest, and thou wilt be in a better condition to\npursue thy journey.\"\n\n\"Not an hour!\"\n\n\"Come now,\" replied the mujik, recognizing the fact that it was useless\nto struggle against the will of his guest, \"I will guide thee myself.\nBesides,\" he added, \"the Russians are still in great force at Omsk, and\nthou couldst, perhaps, pass unperceived.\"\n\n\"Friend,\" replied Michael Strogoff, \"Heaven reward thee for all thou\nhast done for me!\"\n\n\"Only fools expect reward on earth,\" replied the mujik.\n\nMichael Strogoff went out of the hut. When he tried to walk he was\nseized with such faintness that, without the assistance of the mujik, he\nwould have fallen; but the fresh air quickly revived him. He then felt\nthe wound in his head, the violence of which his fur cap had lessened.\nWith the energy which he possessed, he was not a man to succumb under\nsuch a trifle. Before his eyes lay a single goal--far-distant Irkutsk.\nHe must reach it! But he must pass through Omsk without stopping there.\n\n\"God protect my mother and Nadia!\" he murmured. \"I have no longer the\nright to think of them!\"\n\nMichael Strogoff and the mujik soon arrived in the mercantile quarter\nof the lower town. The surrounding earthwork had been destroyed in many\nplaces, and there were the breaches through which the marauders who\nfollowed the armies of Feofar-Khan had penetrated. Within Omsk, in its\nstreets and squares, the Tartar soldiers swarmed like ants; but it was\neasy to see that a hand of iron imposed upon them a discipline to which\nthey were little accustomed. They walked nowhere alone, but in armed\ngroups, to defend themselves against surprise.\n\nIn the chief square, transformed into a camp, guarded by many sentries,\n2,000 Tartars bivouacked. The horses, picketed but still saddled,\nwere ready to start at the first order. Omsk could only be a temporary\nhalting-place for this Tartar cavalry, which preferred the rich\nplains of Eastern Siberia, where the towns were more wealthy, and,\nconsequently, pillage more profitable.\n\nAbove the mercantile town rose the upper quarter, which Ivan Ogareff,\nnotwithstanding several assaults vigorously made but bravely repelled,\nhad not yet been able to reduce. Upon its embattled walls floated the\nnational colors of Russia.\n\nIt was not without a legitimate pride that Michael Strogoff and his\nguide, vowing fidelity, saluted them.\n\nMichael Strogoff was perfectly acquainted with the town of Omsk, and he\ntook care to avoid those streets which were much frequented. This was\nnot from any fear of being recognized. In the town his old mother only\ncould have called him by name, but he had sworn not to see her, and he\ndid not. Besides--and he wished it with his whole heart--she might have\nfled into some quiet portion of the steppe.\n\nThe mujik very fortunately knew a postmaster who, if well paid, would\nnot refuse at his request either to let or to sell a carriage or horses.\nThere remained the difficulty of leaving the town, but the breaches in\nthe fortifications would, of course, facilitate his departure.\n\nThe mujik was accordingly conducting his guest straight to the\nposting-house, when, in a narrow street, Michael Strogoff, coming to a\nsudden stop sprang behind a jutting wall.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" asked the astonished mujik.\n\n\"Silence!\" replied Michael, with his finger on his lips. At this moment\na detachment debouched from the principal square into the street which\nMichael Strogoff and his companion had just been following.\n\nAt the head of the detachment, composed of twenty horsemen, was an\nofficer dressed in a very simple uniform. Although he glanced rapidly\nfrom one side to the other he could not have seen Michael Strogoff,\nowing to his precipitous retreat.\n\nThe detachment went at full trot into the narrow street. Neither the\nofficer nor his escort concerned themselves about the inhabitants.\nSeveral unlucky ones had scarcely time to make way for their passage.\nThere were a few half-stifled cries, to which thrusts of the lance gave\nan instant reply, and the street was immediately cleared.\n\nWhen the escort had disappeared, \"Who is that officer?\" asked Michael\nStrogoff. And while putting the question his face was pale as that of a\ncorpse.\n\n\"It is Ivan Ogareff,\" replied the Siberian, in a deep voice which\nbreathed hatred.\n\n\"He!\" cried Michael Strogoff, from whom the word escaped with a fury he\ncould not conquer. He had just recognized in this officer the traveler\nwho had struck him at the posting-house of Ichim. And, although he had\nonly caught a glimpse of him, it burst upon his mind, at the same time,\nthat this traveler was the old Zingari whose words he had overheard in\nthe market place of Nijni-Novgorod.\n\nMichael Strogoff was not mistaken. The two men were one and the same.\nIt was under the garb of a Zingari, mingling with the band of Sangarre,\nthat Ivan Ogareff had been able to leave the town of Nijni-Novgorod,\nwhere he had gone to seek his confidants. Sangarre and her Zingari, well\npaid spies, were absolutely devoted to him. It was he who, during the\nnight, on the fair-ground had uttered that singular sentence, which\nMichael Strogoff could not understand; it was he who was voyaging on\nboard the Caucasus, with the whole of the Bohemian band; it was he who,\nby this other route, from Kasan to Ichim, across the Urals, had reached\nOmsk, where now he held supreme authority.\n\nIvan Ogareff had been barely three days at Omsk, and had it not been for\ntheir fatal meeting at Ichim, and for the event which had detained\nhim three days on the banks of the Irtych, Michael Strogoff would have\nevidently beaten him on the way to Irkutsk.\n\nAnd who knows how many misfortunes would have been avoided in the\nfuture! In any case--and now more than ever--Michael Strogoff must\navoid Ivan Ogareff, and contrive not to be seen. When the moment of\nencountering him face to face should arrive, he knew how to meet it,\neven should the traitor be master of the whole of Siberia.\n\nThe mujik and Michael resumed their way and arrived at the\nposting-house. To leave Omsk by one of the breaches would not be\ndifficult after nightfall. As for purchasing a carriage to replace the\ntarantass, that was impossible. There were none to be let or sold. But\nwhat want had Michael Strogoff now for a carriage? Was he not alone,\nalas? A horse would suffice him; and, very fortunately, a horse could\nbe had. It was an animal of strength and mettle, and Michael Strogoff,\naccomplished horseman as he was, could make good use of it.\n\nIt was four o'clock in the afternoon. Michael Strogoff, compelled\nto wait till nightfall, in order to pass the fortifications, but not\ndesiring to show himself, remained in the posting-house, and there\npartook of food.\n\nThere was a great crowd in the public room. They were talking of the\nexpected arrival of a corps of Muscovite troops, not at Omsk, but at\nTomsk--a corps intended to recapture that town from the Tartars of\nFeofar-Khan.\n\nMichael Strogoff lent an attentive ear, but took no part in the\nconversation. Suddenly a cry made him tremble, a cry which penetrated\nto the depths of his soul, and these two words rushed into his ear: \"My\nson!\"\n\nHis mother, the old woman Marfa, was before him! Trembling, she smiled\nupon him. She stretched forth her arms to him. Michael Strogoff arose.\nHe was about to throw himself--\n\nThe thought of duty, the serious danger for his mother and himself in\nthis unfortunate meeting, suddenly stopped him, and such was his command\nover himself that not a muscle of his face moved. There were twenty\npeople in the public room. Among them were, perhaps, spies, and was it\nnot known in the town that the son of Marfa Strogoff belonged to the\ncorps of the couriers of the Czar?\n\nMichael Strogoff did not move.\n\n\"Michael!\" cried his mother.\n\n\"Who are you, my good lady?\" Michael Strogoff stammered, unable to speak\nin his usual firm tone.\n\n\"Who am I, thou askest! Dost thou no longer know thy mother?\"\n\n\"You are mistaken,\" coldly replied Michael Strogoff. \"A resemblance\ndeceives you.\"\n\nThe old Marfa went up to him, and, looking straight into his eyes, said,\n\"Thou art not the son of Peter and Marfa Strogoff?\"\n\nMichael Strogoff would have given his life to have locked his mother in\nhis arms; but if he yielded it was all over with him, with her, with\nhis mission, with his oath! Completely master of himself, he closed his\neyes, in order not to see the inexpressible anguish which agitated the\nrevered countenance of his mother. He drew back his hands, in order not\nto touch those trembling hands which sought him. \"I do not know in truth\nwhat it is you say, my good woman,\" he replied, stepping back.\n\n\"Michael!\" again cried his aged mother.\n\n\"My name is not Michael. I never was your son! I am Nicholas Korpanoff,\na merchant at Irkutsk.\"\n\nAnd suddenly he left the public room, whilst for the last time the words\nre-echoed, \"My son! my son!\"\n\nMichael Strogoff, by a desperate effort, had gone. He did not see his\nold mother, who had fallen back almost inanimate upon a bench. But when\nthe postmaster hastened to assist her, the aged woman raised herself.\nSuddenly a thought occurred to her. She denied by her son! It was not\npossible. As for being herself deceived, and taking another for him,\nequally impossible. It was certainly her son whom she had just seen; and\nif he had not recognized her it was because he would not, it was because\nhe ought not, it was because he had some cogent reasons for acting thus!\nAnd then, her mother's feelings arising within her, she had only one\nthought--\"Can I, unwittingly, have ruined him?\"\n\n\"I am mad,\" she said to her interrogators. \"My eyes have deceived me!\nThis young man is not my child. He had not his voice. Let us think no\nmore of it; if we do I shall end by finding him everywhere.\"\n\nLess than ten minutes afterwards a Tartar officer appeared in the\nposting-house. \"Marfa Strogoff?\" he asked.\n\n\"It is I,\" replied the old woman, in a tone so calm, and with a face so\ntranquil, that those who had witnessed the meeting with her son would\nnot have known her.\n\n\"Come,\" said the officer.\n\nMarfa Strogoff, with firm step, followed the Tartar. Some moments\nafterwards she found herself in the chief square in the presence of\nIvan Ogareff, to whom all the details of this scene had been immediately\nreported.\n\nOgareff, suspecting the truth, interrogated the old Siberian woman. \"Thy\nname?\" he asked in a rough voice.\n\n\"Marfa Strogoff.\"\n\n\"Thou hast a son?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"He is a courier of the Czar?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Where is he?\"\n\n\"At Moscow.\"\n\n\"Thou hast no news of him?\"\n\n\"No news.\"\n\n\"Since how long?\"\n\n\"Since two months.\"\n\n\"Who, then, was that young man whom thou didst call thy son a few\nmoments ago at the posting-house?\"\n\n\"A young Siberian whom I took for him,\" replied Marfa Strogoff. \"This is\nthe tenth man in whom I have thought I recognized my son since the town\nhas been so full of strangers. I think I see him everywhere.\"\n\n\"So this young man was not Michael Strogoff?\"\n\n\"It was not Michael Strogoff.\"\n\n\"Dost thou know, old woman, that I can torture thee until thou avowest\nthe truth?\"\n\n\"I have spoken the truth, and torture will not cause me to alter my\nwords in any way.\"\n\n\"This Siberian was not Michael Strogoff?\" asked a second time Ivan\nOgareff.\n\n\"No, it was not he,\" replied a second time Marfa Strogoff. \"Do you think\nthat for anything in the world I would deny a son whom God has given\nme?\"\n\nIvan Ogareff regarded with an evil eye the old woman who braved him to\nthe face. He did not doubt but that she had recognized her son in this\nyoung Siberian. Now if this son had first renounced his mother, and if\nhis mother renounced him in her turn, it could occur only from the\nmost weighty motive. Ogareff had therefore no doubt that the pretended\nNicholas Korpanoff was Michael Strogoff, courier of the Czar, seeking\nconcealment under a false name, and charged with some mission which it\nwould have been important for him to know. He therefore at once gave\norders for his pursuit. Then \"Let this woman be conducted to Tomsk,\" he\nsaid.\n\nWhile the soldiers brutally dragged her off, he added between his teeth,\n\"When the moment arrives I shall know how to make her speak, this old\nsorceress!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV THE MARSHES OF THE BARABA\n\nIT was fortunate that Michael Strogoff had left the posting-house so\npromptly. The orders of Ivan Ogareff had been immediately transmitted to\nall the approaches of the city, and a full description of Michael sent\nto all the various commandants, in order to prevent his departure from\nOmsk. But he had already passed through one of the breaches in the wall;\nhis horse was galloping over the steppe, and the chances of escape were\nin his favor.\n\nIt was on the 29th of July, at eight o'clock in the evening, that\nMichael Strogoff had left Omsk. This town is situated about halfway\nbetween Moscow and Irkutsk, where it was necessary that he should arrive\nwithin ten days if he wished to get ahead of the Tartar columns. It was\nevident that the unlucky chance which had brought him into the presence\nof his mother had betrayed his incognito. Ivan Ogareff was no longer\nignorant of the fact that a courier of the Czar had just passed Omsk,\ntaking the direction of Irkutsk. The dispatches which this courier bore\nmust have been of immense importance. Michael Strogoff knew, therefore,\nthat every effort would be made to capture him.\n\nBut what he did not know, and could not know, was that Marfa Strogoff\nwas in the hands of Ivan Ogareff, and that she was about to atone,\nperhaps with her life, for that natural exhibition of her feelings which\nshe had been unable to restrain when she suddenly found herself in the\npresence of her son. And it was fortunate that he was ignorant of it.\nCould he have withstood this fresh trial?\n\nMichael Strogoff urged on his horse, imbuing him with all his own\nfeverish impatience, requiring of him one thing only, namely, to bear\nhim rapidly to the next posting-house, where he could be exchanged for a\nquicker conveyance.\n\nAt midnight he had cleared fifty miles, and halted at the station of\nKoulikovo. But there, as he had feared, he found neither horses nor\ncarriages. Several Tartar detachments had passed along the highway of\nthe steppe. Everything had been stolen or requisitioned both in the\nvillages and in the posting-houses. It was with difficulty that Michael\nStrogoff was even able to obtain some refreshment for his horse and\nhimself.\n\nIt was of great importance, therefore, to spare his horse, for he could\nnot tell when or how he might be able to replace it. Desiring, however,\nto put the greatest possible distance between himself and the horsemen\nwho had no doubt been dispatched in pursuit, he resolved to push on.\nAfter one hour's rest he resumed his course across the steppe.\n\nHitherto the weather had been propitious for his journey. The\ntemperature was endurable. The nights at this time of the year are very\nshort, and as they are lighted by the moon, the route over the steppe is\npracticable. Michael Strogoff, moreover, was a man certain of his\nroad and devoid of doubt or hesitation, and in spite of the melancholy\nthoughts which possessed him he had preserved his clearness of mind, and\nmade for his destined point as though it were visible upon the horizon.\nWhen he did halt for a moment at some turn in the road it was to breathe\nhis horse. Now he would dismount to ease his steed for a moment, and\nagain he would place his ear to the ground to listen for the sound of\ngalloping horses upon the steppe. Nothing arousing his suspicions, he\nresumed his way.\n\nOn the 30th of July, at nine o'clock in the morning, Michael Strogoff\npassed through the station of Touroumoff and entered the swampy district\nof the Baraba.\n\nThere, for a distance of three hundred versts, the natural obstacles\nwould be extremely great. He knew this, but he also knew that he would\ncertainly surmount them.\n\nThese vast marshes of the Baraba, form the reservoir to all the\nrain-water which finds no outlet either towards the Obi or towards the\nIrtych. The soil of this vast depression is entirely argillaceous, and\ntherefore impermeable, so that the waters remain there and make of it\na region very difficult to cross during the hot season. There, however,\nlies the way to Irkutsk, and it is in the midst of ponds, pools, lakes,\nand swamps, from which the sun draws poisonous exhalations, that the\nroad winds, and entails upon the traveler the greatest fatigue and\ndanger.\n\nMichael Strogoff spurred his horse into the midst of a grassy prairie,\ndiffering greatly from the close-cropped sod of the steppe, where feed\nthe immense Siberian herds. The grass here was five or six feet in\nheight, and had made room for swamp-plants, to which the dampness of\nthe place, assisted by the heat of summer, had given giant proportions.\nThese were principally canes and rushes, which formed a tangled network,\nan impenetrable undergrowth, sprinkled everywhere with a thousand\nflowers remarkable for the brightness of their color.\n\nMichael Strogoff, galloping amongst this undergrowth of cane, was no\nlonger visible from the swamps which bordered the road. The tall grass\nrose above him, and his track was indicated only by the flight of\ninnumerable aquatic birds, which rose from the side of the road and\ndispersed into the air in screaming flocks.\n\nThe way, however, was clearly traceable. Now it would lie straight\nbetween the dense thicket of marsh-plants; again it would follow the\nwinding shores of vast pools, some of which, several versts in length\nand breadth, deserve the name of lakes. In other localities the stagnant\nwaters through which the road lay had been avoided, not by bridges, but\nby tottering platforms ballasted with thick layers of clay, whose\njoists shook like a too weak plank thrown across an abyss. Some of these\nplatforms extended over three hundred feet, and travelers by tarantass,\nwhen crossing them have experienced a nausea like sea-sickness.\n\nMichael Strogoff, whether the soil beneath his feet was solid or whether\nit sank under him, galloped on without halt, leaping the space between\nthe rotten joists; but however fast they traveled the horse and the\nhorseman were unable to escape from the sting of the two-winged insects\nwhich infest this marshy country.\n\nTravelers who are obliged to cross the Baraba during the summer take\ncare to provide themselves with masks of horse-hair, to which is\nattached a coat of mail of very fine wire, which covers their shoulders.\nNotwithstanding these precautions, there are few who come out of these\nmarshes without having their faces, necks, and hands covered with red\nspots. The atmosphere there seems to bristle with fine needles, and one\nwould almost say that a knight's armor would not protect him against\nthe darts of these dipterals. It is a dreary region, which man dearly\ndisputes with tipulae, gnats, mosquitos, horse-flies, and millions\nof microscopic insects which are not visible to the naked eye;\nbut, although they are not seen, they make themselves felt by their\nintolerable stinging, to which the most callous Siberian hunters have\nnever been able to inure themselves.\n\nMichael Strogoff's horse, stung by these venomous insects, sprang\nforward as if the rowels of a thousand spurs had pierced his flanks.\nMad with rage, he tore along over verst after verst with the speed of an\nexpress train, lashing his sides with his tail, seeking by the rapidity\nof his pace an alleviation of his torture.\n\nIt required as good a horseman as Michael Strogoff not to be thrown by\nthe plungings of his horse, and the sudden stops and bounds which\nhe made to escape from the stings of his persecutors. Having become\ninsensible, so to speak, to physical suffering, possessed only with the\none desire to arrive at his destination at whatever cost, he saw during\nthis mad race only one thing--that the road flew rapidly behind him.\n\nWho would have thought that this district of the Baraba, so unhealthy\nduring the summer, could have afforded an asylum for human beings? Yet\nit did so. Several Siberian hamlets appeared from time to time among\nthe giant canes. Men, women, children, and old men, clad in the skins\nof beasts, their faces covered with hardened blisters of skin, pastured\ntheir poor herds of sheep. In order to preserve the animals from the\nattack of the insects, they drove them to the leeward of fires of green\nwood, which were kept burning night and day, and the pungent smoke of\nwhich floated over the vast swamp.\n\nWhen Michael Strogoff perceived that his horse, tired out, was on the\npoint of succumbing, he halted at one of these wretched hamlets, and\nthere, forgetting his own fatigue, he himself rubbed the wounds of the\npoor animal with hot grease according to the Siberian custom; then he\ngave him a good feed; and it was only after he had well groomed and\nprovided for him that he thought of himself, and recruited his strength\nby a hasty meal of bread and meat and a glass of kwass. One hour\nafterwards, or at the most two, he resumed with all speed the\ninterminable road to Irkutsk.\n\nOn the 30th of July, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Michael Strogoff,\ninsensible of every fatigue, arrived at Elamsk. There it became\nnecessary to give a night's rest to his horse. The brave animal could no\nlonger have continued the journey. At Elamsk, as indeed elsewhere, there\nexisted no means of transport,--for the same reasons as at the previous\nvillages, neither carriages nor horses were to be had.\n\nMichael Strogoff resigned himself therefore to pass the night at Elamsk,\nto give his horse twelve hours' rest. He recalled the instructions which\nhad been given to him at Moscow--to cross Siberia incognito, to arrive\nat Irkutsk, but not to sacrifice success to the rapidity of the journey;\nand consequently it was necessary that he should husband the sole means\nof transport which remained to him.\n\nOn the morrow, Michael Strogoff left Elamsk at the moment when the\nfirst Tartar scouts were signaled ten versts behind upon the road to the\nBaraba, and he plunged again into the swampy region. The road was\nlevel, which made it easy, but very tortuous, and therefore long. It was\nimpossible, moreover, to leave it, and to strike a straight line across\nthat impassable network of pools and bogs.\n\nOn the next day, the 1st of August, eighty miles farther, Michael\nStrogoff arrived at midday at the town of Spaskoe, and at two o'clock he\nhalted at Pokrowskoe. His horse, jaded since his departure from Elamsk,\ncould not have taken a single step more.\n\nThere Michael Strogoff was again compelled to lose, for necessary rest,\nthe end of that day and the entire night; but starting again on the\nfollowing morning, and still traversing the semi-inundated soil, on the\n2nd of August, at four o'clock in the afternoon, after a stage of fifty\nmiles he reached Kamsk.\n\nThe country had changed. This little village of Kamsk lies, like\nan island, habitable and healthy, in the midst of the uninhabitable\ndistrict. It is situated in the very center of the Baraba. The\nemigration caused by the Tartar invasion had not yet depopulated this\nlittle town of Kamsk. Its inhabitants probably fancied themselves safe\nin the center of the Baraba, whence at least they thought they would\nhave time to flee if they were directly menaced.\n\nMichael Strogoff, although exceedingly anxious for news, could ascertain\nnothing at this place. It would have been rather to him that the\nGovernor would have addressed himself had he known who the pretended\nmerchant of Irkutsk really was. Kamsk, in fact, by its very situation\nseemed to be outside the Siberian world and the grave events which\ntroubled it.\n\nBesides, Michael Strogoff showed himself little, if at all. To be\nunperceived was not now enough for him: he would have wished to be\ninvisible. The experience of the past made him more and more circumspect\nin the present and the future. Therefore he secluded himself, and not\ncaring to traverse the streets of the village, he would not even leave\nthe inn at which he had halted.\n\nAs for his horse, he did not even think of exchanging him for another\nanimal. He had become accustomed to this brave creature. He knew to what\nextent he could rely upon him. In buying him at Omsk he had been lucky,\nand in taking him to the postmaster the generous mujik had rendered\nhim a great service. Besides, if Michael Strogoff had already become\nattached to his horse, the horse himself seemed to become inured, by\ndegrees, to the fatigue of such a journey, and provided that he got\nseveral hours of repose daily, his rider might hope that he would carry\nhim beyond the invaded provinces.\n\nSo, during the evening and night of the 2nd of August, Michael Strogoff\nremained confined to his inn, at the entrance of the town; which was\nlittle frequented and out of the way of the importunate and curious.\n\nExhausted with fatigue, he went to bed after having seen that his horse\nlacked nothing; but his sleep was broken. What he had seen since his\ndeparture from Moscow showed him the importance of his mission. The\nrising was an extremely serious one, and the treachery of Ogareff made\nit still more formidable. And when his eyes fell upon the letter bearing\nupon it the authority of the imperial seal--the letter which, no\ndoubt, contained the remedy for so many evils, the safety of all this\nwar-ravaged country--Michael Strogoff felt within himself a fierce\ndesire to dash on across the steppe, to accomplish the distance which\nseparated him from Irkutsk as the crow would fly it, to be an eagle that\nhe might overtop all obstacles, to be a hurricane that he might sweep\nthrough the air at a hundred versts an hour, and to be at last face\nto face with the Grand Duke, and to exclaim: \"Your highness, from his\nMajesty the Czar!\"\n\nOn the next morning at six o'clock, Michael Strogoff started off again.\nThanks to his extreme prudence this part of the journey was signalized\nby no incident whatever. At Oubinsk he gave his horse a whole night's\nrest, for he wished on the next day to accomplish the hundred versts\nwhich lie between Oubinsk and Ikoulskoe without halting. He started\ntherefore at dawn; but unfortunately the Baraba proved more detestable\nthan ever.\n\nIn fact, between Oubinsk and Kamakore the very heavy rains of some\nprevious weeks were retained by this shallow depression as in a\nwater-tight bowl. There was, for a long distance, no break in the\nsuccession of swamps, pools, and lakes. One of these lakes--large enough\nto warrant its geographical nomenclature--Tchang, Chinese in name, had\nto be coasted for more than twenty versts, and this with the greatest\ndifficulty. Hence certain delays occurred, which all the impatience of\nMichael Strogoff could not avoid. He had been well advised in not taking\na carriage at Kamsk, for his horse passed places which would have been\nimpracticable for a conveyance on wheels.\n\nIn the evening, at nine o'clock, Michael Strogoff arrived at Ikoulskoe,\nand halted there over night. In this remote village of the Baraba news\nof the war was utterly wanting. From its situation, this part of the\nprovince, lying in the fork formed by the two Tartar columns which had\nbifurcated, one upon Omsk and the other upon Tomsk, had hitherto escaped\nthe horrors of the invasion.\n\nBut the natural obstacles were now about to disappear, for, if he\nexperienced no delay, Michael Strogoff should on the morrow be free of\nthe Baraba and arrive at Kolyvan. There he would be within eighty miles\nof Tomsk. He would then be guided by circumstances, and very probably\nhe would decide to go around Tomsk, which, if the news were true, was\noccupied by Feofar-Khan.\n\nBut if the small towns of Ikoulskoe and Karguinsk, which he passed on\nthe next day, were comparatively quiet, owing to their position in the\nBaraba, was it not to be dreaded that, upon the right banks of the Obi,\nMichael Strogoff would have much more to fear from man? It was probable.\nHowever, should it become necessary, he would not hesitate to abandon\nthe beaten path to Irkutsk. To journey then across the steppe he would,\nno doubt, run the risk of finding himself without supplies. There would\nbe, in fact, no longer a well-marked road. Still, there must be no\nhesitation.\n\nFinally, towards half past three in the afternoon, Michael Strogoff left\nthe last depressions of the Baraba, and the dry and hard soil of Siberia\nrang out once more beneath his horse's hoofs.\n\nHe had left Moscow on the 15th of July. Therefore on this day, the 5th\nof August, including more than seventy hours lost on the banks of the\nIrtych, twenty days had gone by since his departure.\n\nOne thousand miles still separated him from Irkutsk.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI A FINAL EFFORT\n\nMICHAEL'S fear of meeting the Tartars in the plains beyond the Baraba\nwas by no means ungrounded. The fields, trodden down by horses' hoofs,\nafforded but too clear evidence that their hordes had passed that way;\nthe same, indeed, might be said of these barbarians as of the Turks:\n\"Where the Turk goes, no grass grows.\"\n\nMichael saw at once that in traversing this country the greatest caution\nwas necessary. Wreaths of smoke curling upwards on the horizon showed\nthat huts and hamlets were still burning. Had these been fired by\nthe advance guard, or had the Emir's army already advanced beyond the\nboundaries of the province? Was Feofar-Khan himself in the government\nof Yeniseisk? Michael could settle on no line of action until these\nquestions were answered. Was the country so deserted that he could not\ndiscover a single Siberian to enlighten him?\n\nMichael rode on for two versts without meeting a human being. He looked\ncarefully for some house which had not been deserted. Every one was\ntenantless.\n\nOne hut, however, which he could just see between the trees, was still\nsmoking. As he approached he perceived, at some yards from the ruins of\nthe building, an old man surrounded by weeping children. A woman still\nyoung, evidently his daughter and the mother of the poor children,\nkneeling on the ground, was gazing on the scene of desolation. She had\nat her breast a baby but a few months old; shortly she would have not\neven that nourishment to give it. Ruin and desolation were all around!\n\nMichael approached the old man.\n\n\"Will you answer me a few questions?\" he asked.\n\n\"Speak,\" replied the old man.\n\n\"Have the Tartars passed this way?\"\n\n\"Yes, for my house is in flames.\"\n\n\"Was it an army or a detachment?\"\n\n\"An army, for, as far as eye can reach, our fields are laid waste.\"\n\n\"Commanded by the Emir?\"\n\n\"By the Emir; for the Obi's waters are red.\"\n\n\"Has Feofar-Khan entered Tomsk?\"\n\n\"He has.\"\n\n\"Do you know if his men have entered Kolyvan?\"\n\n\"No; for Kolyvan does not yet burn.\"\n\n\"Thanks, friend. Can I aid you and yours?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Good-by.\"\n\n\"Farewell.\"\n\nAnd Michael, having presented five and twenty roubles to the unfortunate\nwoman, who had not even strength to thank him, put spurs to his horse\nonce more.\n\nOne thing he knew; he must not pass through Tomsk. To go to Kolyvan,\nwhich the Tartars had not yet reached, was possible. Yes, that is what\nhe must do; there he must prepare himself for another long stage. There\nwas nothing for it but, having crossed the Obi, to take the Irkutsk road\nand avoid Tomsk.\n\nThis new route decided on, Michael must not delay an instant. Nor\ndid he, but, putting his horse into a steady gallop, he took the road\ntowards the left bank of the Obi, which was still forty versts distant.\nWould there be a ferry boat there, or should he, finding that the\nTartars had destroyed all the boats, be obliged to swim across?\n\nAs to his horse, it was by this time pretty well worn out, and Michael\nintended to make it perform this stage only, and then to exchange it for\na fresh one at Kolyvan. Kolyvan would be like a fresh starting point,\nfor on leaving that town his journey would take a new form. So long as\nhe traversed a devastated country the difficulties must be very great;\nbut if, having avoided Tomsk, he could resume the road to Irkutsk across\nthe province of Yeniseisk, which was not yet laid waste, he would finish\nhis journey in a few days.\n\nNight came on, bringing with it refreshing coolness after the heat of\nthe day. At midnight the steppe was profoundly dark. The sound of the\nhorses's hoofs alone was heard on the road, except when, every now and\nthen, its master spoke a few encouraging words. In such darkness as\nthis great care was necessary lest he should leave the road, bordered by\npools and streams, tributaries of the Obi. Michael therefore advanced\nas quickly as was consistent with safety. He trusted no less to\nthe excellence of his eyes, which penetrated the gloom, than to the\nwell-proved sagacity of his horse.\n\nJust as Michael dismounted to discover the exact direction of the road,\nhe heard a confused murmuring sound from the west. It was like the\nnoise of horses' hoofs at some distance on the parched ground. Michael\nlistened attentively, putting his ear to the ground.\n\n\"It is a detachment of cavalry coming by the road from Omsk,\" he said to\nhimself. \"They are marching very quickly, for the noise is increasing.\nAre they Russians or Tartars?\"\n\nMichael again listened. \"Yes,\" said he, \"they are at a sharp trot. My\nhorse cannot outstrip them. If they are Russians I will join them; if\nTartars I must avoid them. But how? Where can I hide in this steppe?\"\n\nHe gave a look around, and, through the darkness, discovered a confused\nmass at a hundred paces before him on the left of the road. \"There is a\ncopse!\" he exclaimed. \"To take refuge there is to run the risk of being\ncaught, if they are in search of me; but I have no choice.\"\n\nIn a few moments Michael, dragging his horse by the bridle, reached\na little larch wood, through which the road lay. Beyond this it was\ndestitute of trees, and wound among bogs and pools, separated by\ndwarfed bushes, whins, and heather. The ground on either side was quite\nimpracticable, and the detachment must necessarily pass through the\nwood. They were pursuing the high road to Irkutsk. Plunging in about\nforty feet, he was stopped by a stream running under the brushwood. But\nthe shadow was so deep that Michael ran no risk of being seen, unless\nthe wood should be carefully searched. He therefore led his horse to the\nstream and fastened him to a tree, returning to the edge of the road to\nlisten and ascertain with what sort of people he had to do.\n\nMichael had scarcely taken up his position behind a group of larches\nwhen a confused light appeared, above which glared brighter lights\nwaving about in the shadow.\n\n\"Torches!\" said he to himself. And he drew quickly back, gliding like a\nsavage into the thickest underwood.\n\nAs they approached the wood the horses' pace was slackened. The horsemen\nwere probably lighting up the road with the intention of examining every\nturn.\n\nMichael feared this, and instinctively drew near to the bank of the\nstream, ready to plunge in if necessary.\n\nArrived at the top of the wood, the detachment halted. The horsemen\ndismounted. There were about fifty. A dozen of them carried torches,\nlighting up the road.\n\nBy watching their preparations Michael found to his joy that the\ndetachment were not thinking of visiting the copse, but only bivouacking\nnear, to rest their horses and allow the men to take some refreshment.\nThe horses were soon unsaddled, and began to graze on the thick grass\nwhich carpeted the ground. The men meantime stretched themselves by the\nside of the road, and partook of the provisions they produced from their\nknapsacks.\n\nMichael's self-possession had never deserted him, and creeping amongst\nthe high grass he endeavored not only to examine the new-comers, but to\nhear what they said. It was a detachment from Omsk, composed of Usbeck\nhorsemen, a race of the Mongolian type. These men, well built, above\nthe medium height, rough, and wild-featured, wore on their heads the\n\"talpak,\" or black sheep-skin cap, and on their feet yellow high-heeled\nboots with turned-up toes, like the shoes of the Middle Ages. Their\ntunics were close-fitting, and confined at the waist by a leathern\nbelt braided with red. They were armed defensively with a shield, and\noffensively with a curved sword, and a flintlock musket slung at the\nsaddle-bow. From their shoulders hung gay-colored cloaks.\n\nThe horses, which were feeding at liberty at the edge of the wood, were,\nlike their masters, of the Usbeck race. These animals are rather smaller\nthan the Turcomanian horses, but are possessed of remarkable strength,\nand know no other pace than the gallop.\n\nThis detachment was commanded by a \"pendja-baschi\"; that is to say,\na commander of fifty men, having under him a \"deh-baschi,\" or simple\ncommander of ten men. These two officers wore helmets and half\ncoats-of-mail; little trumpets fastened to their saddle-bows were the\ndistinctive signs of their rank.\n\nThe pendja-baschi had been obliged to let his men rest, fatigued with\na long stage. He and the second officer, smoking \"beng,\" the leaf which\nforms the base of the \"has-chisch,\" strolled up and down the wood, so\nthat Michael Strogoff without being seen, could catch and understand\ntheir conversation, which was spoken in the Tartar language.\n\nMichael's attention was singularly excited by their very first words. It\nwas of him they were speaking.\n\n\"This courier cannot be much in advance of us,\" said the pendja-baschi;\n\"and, on the other hand, it is absolutely impossible that he can have\nfollowed any other route than that of the Baraba.\"\n\n\"Who knows if he has left Omsk?\" replied the deh-baschi. \"Perhaps he is\nstill hidden in the town.\"\n\n\"That is to be wished, certainly. Colonel Ogareff would have no fear\nthen that the dispatches he bears should ever reach their destination.\"\n\n\"They say that he is a native, a Siberian,\" resumed the deh-baschi. \"If\nso, he must be well acquainted with the country, and it is possible that\nhe has left the Irkutsk road, depending on rejoining it later.\"\n\n\"But then we should be in advance of him,\" answered the pendja-baschi;\n\"for we left Omsk within an hour after his departure, and have since\nfollowed the shortest road with all the speed of our horses. He has\neither remained in Omsk, or we shall arrive at Tomsk before him, so as\nto cut him off; in either case he will not reach Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"A rugged woman, that old Siberian, who is evidently his mother,\" said\nthe deh-baschi.\n\nAt this remark Michael's heart beat violently.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the pendja-baschi. \"She stuck to it well that the\npretended merchant was not her son, but it was too late. Colonel Ogareff\nwas not to be taken in; and, as he said, he will know how to make the\nold witch speak when the time comes.\"\n\nThese words were so many dagger-thrusts for Michael. He was known to be\na courier of the Czar! A detachment of horsemen on his track could not\nfail to cut him off. And, worst of all, his mother was in the hands of\nthe Tartars, and the cruel Ogareff had undertaken to make her speak when\nhe wished!\n\nMichael well knew that the brave Siberian would sacrifice her life for\nhim. He had fancied that he could not hate Ivan Ogareff more, yet a\nfresh tide of hate now rose in his heart. The wretch who had betrayed\nhis country now threatened to torture his mother.\n\nThe conversation between the two officers continued, and Michael\nunderstood that an engagement was imminent in the neighborhood of\nKolyvan, between the Muscovite troops coming from the north and the\nTartars. A small Russian force of two thousand men, reported to have\nreached the lower course of the Obi, were advancing by forced marches\ntowards Tomsk. If such was the case, this force, which would soon\nfind itself engaged with the main body of Feofar-Khan's army, would\nbe inevitably overwhelmed, and the Irkutsk road would be in the entire\npossession of the invaders.\n\nAs to himself, Michael learnt, by some words from the pendja-baschi,\nthat a price was set on his head, and that orders had been given to take\nhim, dead or alive.\n\nIt was necessary, therefore, to get the start of the Usbeck horsemen on\nthe Irkutsk road, and put the Obi between himself and them. But to do\nthat, he must escape before the camp was broken up.\n\nHis determination taken, Michael prepared to execute it.\n\nIndeed, the halt would not be prolonged, and the pendja-baschi did not\nintend to give his men more than an hour's rest, although their horses\ncould not have been changed for fresh ones since Omsk, and must be as\nmuch fatigued as that of Michael Strogoff.\n\nThere was not a moment to lose. It was within an hour of morning. It\nwas needful to profit by the darkness to leave the little wood and dash\nalong the road; but although night favored it the success of such a\nflight appeared to be almost impossible.\n\nNot wishing to do anything at random, Michael took time for reflection,\ncarefully weighing the chances so as to take the best. From the\nsituation of the place the result was this--that he could not escape\nthrough the back of the wood, the stream which bordered it being not\nonly deep, but very wide and muddy. Beneath this thick water was a slimy\nbog, on which the foot could not rest. There was only one way open, the\nhigh-road. To endeavor to reach it by creeping round the edge of the\nwood, without attracting attention, and then to gallop at headlong\nspeed, required all the remaining strength and energy of his noble\nsteed. Too probably it would fall dead on reaching the banks of the Obi,\nwhen, either by boat or by swimming, he must cross this important river.\nThis was what Michael had before him.\n\nHis energy and courage increased in sight of danger.\n\nHis life, his mission, his country, perhaps the safety of his mother,\nwere at stake. He could not hesitate.\n\nThere was not a moment to be lost. Already there was a slight movement\namong the men of the detachment. A few horsemen were strolling up and\ndown the road in front of the wood. The rest were still lying at the\nfoot of the trees, but their horses were gradually penetrating towards\nthe center of the wood.\n\nMichael had at first thought of seizing one of these horses, but he\nrecollected that, of course, they would be as fatigued as his own. It\nwas better to trust to his own brave steed, which had already rendered\nhim such important service. The good animal, hidden behind a thicket,\nhad escaped the sight of the Usbecks. They, besides, had not penetrated\nso far into the wood.\n\nMichael crawled up to his horse through the grass, and found him lying\ndown. He patted and spoke gently to him, and managed to raise him\nwithout noise. Fortunately, the torches were entirely consumed, and\nnow went out, the darkness being still profound under shelter of the\nlarches. After replacing the bit, Michael looked to his girths and\nstirrups, and began to lead his horse quietly away. The intelligent\nanimal followed his master without even making the least neigh.\n\nA few Usbeck horses raised their heads, and began to wander towards the\nedge of the wood. Michael held his revolver in his hand, ready to blow\nout the brains of the first Tartar who should approach him. But happily\nthe alarm was not given, and he was able to gain the angle made by the\nwood where it joined the road.\n\nTo avoid being seen, Michael's intention was not to mount until after\nturning a corner some two hundred feet from the wood. Unfortunately,\njust at the moment that he was issuing from the wood, an Usbeck's horse,\nscenting him, neighed and began to trot along the road. His master ran\nto catch him, and seeing a shadowy form moving in the dim light, \"Look\nout!\" he shouted.\n\nAt the cry, all the men of the bivouac jumped up, and ran to seize their\nhorses. Michael leaped on his steed, and galloped away. The two officers\nof the detachment urged on their men to follow.\n\nMichael heard a report, and felt a ball pass through his tunic. Without\nturning his head, without replying, he spurred on, and, clearing the\nbrushwood with a tremendous bound, he galloped at full speed toward the\nObi.\n\nThe Usbecks' horses being unsaddled gave him a small start, but in less\nthan two minutes he heard the tramp of several horses gradually gaining\non him.\n\nDay was now beginning to break, and objects at some distance were\nbecoming visible. Michael turned his head, and perceived a horseman\nrapidly approaching him. It was the deh-baschi. Being better mounted,\nthis officer had distanced his detachment.\n\nWithout drawing rein, Michael extended his revolver, and took a moment's\naim. The Usbeck officer, hit in the breast, rolled on the ground.\n\nBut the other horsemen followed him closely, and without waiting to\nassist the deh-baschi, exciting each other by their shouts, digging\ntheir spurs into their horses' sides, they gradually diminished the\ndistance between themselves and Michael.\n\nFor half an hour only was the latter able to keep out of range of\nthe Tartars, but he well knew that his horse was becoming weaker, and\ndreaded every instant that he would stumble never to rise again.\n\nIt was now light, although the sun had not yet risen above the horizon.\nTwo versts distant could be seen a pale line bordered by a few trees.\n\nThis was the Obi, which flows from the southwest to the northeast,\nthe surface almost level with the ground, its bed being but the steppe\nitself.\n\nSeveral times shots were fired at Michael, but without hitting him, and\nseveral times too he discharged his revolver on those of the soldiers\nwho pressed him too closely. Each time an Usbeck rolled on the ground,\nmidst cries of rage from his companions. But this pursuit could only\nterminate to Michael's disadvantage. His horse was almost exhausted. He\nmanaged to reach the bank of the river. The Usbeck detachment was now\nnot more than fifty paces behind him.\n\nThe Obi was deserted--not a boat of any description which could take him\nover the water!\n\n\"Courage, my brave horse!\" cried Michael. \"Come! A last effort!\" And he\nplunged into the river, which here was half a verst in width.\n\nIt would have been difficult to stand against the current--indeed,\nMichael's horse could get no footing. He must therefore swim across the\nriver, although it was rapid as a torrent. Even to attempt it showed\nMichael's marvelous courage. The soldiers reached the bank, but\nhesitated to plunge in.\n\nThe pendja-baschi seized his musket and took aim at Michael, whom he\ncould see in the middle of the stream. The shot was fired, and Michael's\nhorse, struck in the side, was borne away by the current.\n\nHis master, speedily disentangling himself from his stirrups, struck out\nboldly for the shore. In the midst of a hailstorm of balls he managed to\nreach the opposite side, and disappeared in the rushes.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII THE RIVALS\n\nMICHAEL was in comparative safety, though his situation was still\nterrible. Now that the faithful animal who had so bravely borne him had\nmet his death in the waters of the river, how was he to continue his\njourney?\n\nHe was on foot, without provisions, in a country devastated by the\ninvasion, overrun by the Emir's scouts, and still at a considerable\ndistance from the place he was striving to reach. \"By Heaven, I will get\nthere!\" he exclaimed, in reply to all the reasons for faltering. \"God\nwill protect our sacred Russia.\"\n\nMichael was out of reach of the Usbeck horsemen. They had not dared to\npursue him through the river.\n\nOnce more on solid ground Michael stopped to consider what he should\ndo next. He wished to avoid Tomsk, now occupied by the Tartar troops.\nNevertheless, he must reach some town, or at least a post-house, where\nhe could procure a horse. A horse once found, he would throw himself out\nof the beaten track, and not again take to the Irkutsk road until in the\nneighborhood of Krasnoiarsk. From that place, if he were quick, he\nhoped to find the way still open, and he intended to go through the Lake\nBaikal provinces in a southeasterly direction.\n\nMichael began by going eastward. By following the course of the Obi two\nversts further, he reached a picturesque little town lying on a small\nhill. A few churches, with Byzantine cupolas colored green and gold,\nstood up against the gray sky. This is Kolyvan, where the officers and\npeople employed at Kamsk and other towns take refuge during the summer\nfrom the unhealthy climate of the Baraba. According to the latest news\nobtained by the Czar's courier, Kolyvan could not be yet in the hands of\nthe invaders. The Tartar troops, divided into two columns, had marched\nto the left on Omsk, to the right on Tomsk, neglecting the intermediate\ncountry.\n\nMichael Strogoff's plan was simply this--to reach Kolyvan before the\narrival of the Usbeck horsemen, who would ascend the other bank of the\nObi to the ferry. There he would procure clothes and a horse, and resume\nthe road to Irkutsk across the southern steppe.\n\nIt was now three o'clock in the morning. The neighborhood of Kolyvan\nwas very still, and appeared to have been totally abandoned. The country\npopulation had evidently fled to the northwards, to the province of\nYeniseisk, dreading the invasion, which they could not resist.\n\nMichael was walking at a rapid pace towards Kolyvan when distant firing\nstruck his ear. He stopped, and clearly distinguished the dull roar of\nartillery, and above it a crisp rattle which could not be mistaken.\n\n\"It is cannon and musketry!\" said he. \"The little Russian body is\nengaged with the Tartar army! Pray Heaven that I may arrive at Kolyvan\nbefore them!\"\n\nThe firing became gradually louder, and soon to the left of Kolyvan\na mist collected--not smoke, but those great white clouds produced by\ndischarges of artillery.\n\nThe Usbeck horsemen stopped on the left of the Obi, to await the result\nof the battle. From them Michael had nothing to fear as he hastened\ntowards the town.\n\nIn the meanwhile the firing increased, and became sensibly nearer. It\nwas no longer a confused roar, but distinct reports. At the same time\nthe smoke partially cleared, and it became evident that the combatants\nwere rapidly moving southwards. It appeared that Kolyvan was to be\nattacked on the north side. But were the Russians defending it or the\nTartars? It being impossible to decide this, Michael became greatly\nperplexed.\n\nHe was not more than half a verst from Kolyvan when he observed flames\nshooting up among the houses of the town, and the steeple of a church\nfell in the midst of clouds of smoke and fire. Was the struggle, then,\nin Kolyvan? Michael was compelled to think so. It was evident that\nRussians and Tartars were fighting in the streets of the town. Was this\na time to seek refuge there? Would he not run a risk of being taken\nprisoner? Should he succeed in escaping from Kolyvan, as he had escaped\nfrom Omsk? He hesitated and stopped a moment. Would it not be better to\ntry, even on foot, to reach some small town, and there procure a horse\nat any price? This was the only thing to be done; and Michael, leaving\nthe Obi, went forward to the right of Kolyvan.\n\nThe firing had now increased in violence. Flames soon sprang up on the\nleft of the town. Fire was devouring one entire quarter of Kolyvan.\n\nMichael was running across the steppe endeavoring to gain the covert of\nsome trees when a detachment of Tartar cavalry appeared on the right. He\ndared not continue in that direction. The horsemen advanced rapidly, and\nit would have been difficult to escape them.\n\nSuddenly, in a thick clump of trees, he saw an isolated house, which\nit would be possible to reach before he was perceived. Michael had\nno choice but to run there, hide himself and ask or take something to\nrecruit his strength, for he was exhausted with hunger and fatigue.\n\nHe accordingly ran on towards this house, still about half a verst\ndistant. As he approached, he could see that it was a telegraph office.\nTwo wires left it in westerly and easterly directions, and a third went\ntowards Kolyvan.\n\nIt was to be supposed that under the circumstances this station was\nabandoned; but even if it was, Michael could take refuge there, and wait\ntill nightfall, if necessary, to again set out across the steppe covered\nwith Tartar scouts.\n\nHe ran up to the door and pushed it open.\n\nA single person was in the room whence the telegraphic messages were\ndispatched. This was a clerk, calm, phlegmatic, indifferent to all that\nwas passing outside. Faithful to his post, he waited behind his little\nwicket until the public claimed his services.\n\nMichael ran up to him, and in a voice broken by fatigue, \"What do you\nknow?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nothing,\" answered the clerk, smiling.\n\n\"Are the Russians and Tartars engaged?\"\n\n\"They say so.\"\n\n\"But who are the victors?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\nSuch calmness, such indifference, in the midst of these terrible events,\nwas scarcely credible.\n\n\"And is not the wire cut?\" said Michael.\n\n\"It is cut between Kolyvan and Krasnoiarsk, but it is still working\nbetween Kolyvan and the Russian frontier.\"\n\n\"For the government?\"\n\n\"For the government, when it thinks proper. For the public, when they\npay. Ten copecks a word, whenever you like, sir!\"\n\nMichael was about to reply to this strange clerk that he had no message\nto send, that he only implored a little bread and water, when the door\nof the house was again thrown open.\n\nThinking that it was invaded by Tartars, Michael made ready to leap out\nof the window, when two men only entered the room who had nothing of\nthe Tartar soldier about them. One of them held a dispatch, written in\npencil, in his hand, and, passing the other, he hurried up to the wicket\nof the imperturbable clerk.\n\nIn these two men Michael recognized with astonishment, which everyone\nwill understand, two personages of whom he was not thinking at all, and\nwhom he had never expected to see again. They were the two reporters,\nHarry Blount and Alcide Jolivet, no longer traveling companions, but\nrivals, enemies, now that they were working on the field of battle.\n\nThey had left Ichim only a few hours after the departure of Michael\nStrogoff, and they had arrived at Kolyvan before him, by following the\nsame road, in consequence of his losing three days on the banks of the\nIrtych. And now, after being both present at the engagement between the\nRussians and Tartars before the town, they had left just as the struggle\nbroke out in the streets, and ran to the telegraph office, so as to send\noff their rival dispatches to Europe, and forestall each other in their\nreport of events.\n\nMichael stood aside in the shadow, and without being seen himself he\ncould see and hear all that was going on. He would now hear interesting\nnews, and would find out whether or not he could enter Kolyvan.\n\nBlount, having distanced his companion, took possession of the wicket,\nwhilst Alcide Jolivet, contrary to his usual habit, stamped with\nimpatience.\n\n\"Ten copecks a word,\" said the clerk.\n\nBlount deposited a pile of roubles on the shelf, whilst his rival looked\non with a sort of stupefaction.\n\n\"Good,\" said the clerk. And with the greatest coolness in the world he\nbegan to telegraph the following dispatch: \"Daily Telegraph, London.\n\n\"From Kolyvan, Government of Omsk, Siberia, 6th August.\n\n\"Engagement between Russian and Tartar troops.\"\n\nThe reading was in a distinct voice, so that Michael heard all that the\nEnglish correspondent was sending to his paper.\n\n\"Russians repulsed with great loss. Tartars entered Kolyvan to-day.\"\nThese words ended the dispatch.\n\n\"My turn now,\" cried Alcide Jolivet, anxious to send off his dispatch,\naddressed to his cousin.\n\nBut that was not Blount's idea, who did not intend to give up the\nwicket, but have it in his power to send off the news just as the events\noccurred. He would therefore not make way for his companion.\n\n\"But you have finished!\" exclaimed Jolivet.\n\n\"I have not finished,\" returned Harry Blount quietly.\n\nAnd he proceeded to write some sentences, which he handed in to the\nclerk, who read out in his calm voice: \"John Gilpin was a citizen of\ncredit and renown; a train-band captain eke was he of famous London\ntown.\"\n\nHarry Blount was telegraphing some verses learned in his childhood, in\norder to employ the time, and not give up his place to his rival. It\nwould perhaps cost his paper some thousands of roubles, but it would be\nthe first informed. France could wait.\n\nJolivet's fury may be imagined, though under any other circumstances\nhe would have thought it fair warfare. He even endeavored to force the\nclerk to take his dispatch in preference to that of his rival.\n\n\"It is that gentleman's right,\" answered the clerk coolly, pointing\nto Blount, and smiling in the most amiable manner. And he continued\nfaithfully to transmit to the Daily Telegraph the well-known verses of\nCowper.\n\nWhilst he was working Blount walked to the window and, his field glass\nto his eyes, watched all that was going on in the neighborhood of\nKolyvan, so as to complete his information. In a few minutes he resumed\nhis place at the wicket, and added to his telegram: \"Two churches are\nin flames. The fire appears to gain on the right. 'John Gilpin's spouse\nsaid to her dear, Though wedded we have been these twice ten tedious\nyears, yet we no holiday have seen.'\"\n\nAlcide Jolivet would have liked to strangle the honorable correspondent\nof the Daily Telegraph.\n\nHe again interrupted the clerk, who, quite unmoved, merely replied: \"It\nis his right, sir, it is his right--at ten copecks a word.\"\n\nAnd he telegraphed the following news, just brought him by Blount:\n\"Russian fugitives are escaping from the town. 'Away went Gilpin--who\nbut he? His fame soon spread around: He carries weight! he rides a race!\n'Tis for a thousand pound!'\" And Blount turned round with a quizzical\nlook at his rival.\n\nAlcide Jolivet fumed.\n\nIn the meanwhile Harry Blount had returned to the window, but this time\nhis attention was diverted by the interest of the scene before him.\nTherefore, when the clerk had finished telegraphing the last lines\ndictated by Blount, Alcide Jolivet noiselessly took his place at the\nwicket, and, just as his rival had done, after quietly depositing a\nrespectable pile of roubles on the shelf, he delivered his dispatch,\nwhich the clerk read aloud: \"Madeleine Jolivet, 10, Faubourg Montmartre,\nParis.\n\n\"From Kolyvan, Government of Omsk, Siberia, 6th August.\n\n\"Fugitives are escaping from the town. Russians defeated. Fiercely\npursued by the Tartar cavalry.\"\n\nAnd as Harry Blount returned he heard Jolivet completing his telegram by\nsinging in a mocking tone:\n\n\"II est un petit homme, Tout habille de gris, Dans Paris!\"\n\nImitating his rival, Alcide Jolivet had used a merry refrain of\nBeranger.\n\n\"Hallo!\" said Harry Blount.\n\n\"Just so,\" answered Jolivet.\n\nIn the meantime the situation at Kolyvan was alarming in the extreme.\nThe battle was raging nearer, and the firing was incessant.\n\nAt that moment the telegraph office shook to its foundations. A shell\nhad made a hole in the wall, and a cloud of dust filled the office.\n\nAlcide was just finishing writing his lines; but to stop, dart on the\nshell, seize it in both hands, throw it out of the window, and return to\nthe wicket, was only the affair of a moment.\n\nFive seconds later the shell burst outside. Continuing with the greatest\npossible coolness, Alcide wrote: \"A six-inch shell has just blown up the\nwall of the telegraph office. Expecting a few more of the same size.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff had no doubt that the Russians were driven out of\nKolyvan. His last resource was to set out across the southern steppe.\n\nJust then renewed firing broke out close to the telegraph house, and a\nperfect shower of bullets smashed all the glass in the windows. Harry\nBlount fell to the ground wounded in the shoulder.\n\nJolivet even at such a moment, was about to add this postscript to\nhis dispatch: \"Harry Blount, correspondent of the Daily Telegraph, has\nfallen at my side struck by--\" when the imperturbable clerk said calmly:\n\"Sir, the wire has broken.\" And, leaving his wicket, he quietly took his\nhat, brushed it round with his sleeve, and, still smiling, disappeared\nthrough a little door which Michael had not before perceived.\n\nThe house was surrounded by Tartar soldiers, and neither Michael nor the\nreporters could effect their retreat.\n\nAlcide Jolivet, his useless dispatch in his hand, had run to Blount,\nstretched on the ground, and had bravely lifted him on his shoulders,\nwith the intention of flying with him. He was too late!\n\nBoth were prisoners; and, at the same time, Michael, taken unawares\nas he was about to leap from the window, fell into the hands of the\nTartars!\n\nEND OF BOOK I\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I A TARTAR CAMP\n\nAT a day's march from Kolyvan, several versts beyond the town of\nDiachinks, stretches a wide plain, planted here and there with great\ntrees, principally pines and cedars. This part of the steppe is usually\noccupied during the warm season by Siberian shepherds, and their\nnumerous flocks. But now it might have been searched in vain for one of\nits nomad inhabitants. Not that the plain was deserted. It presented a\nmost animated appearance.\n\nThere stood the Tartar tents; there Feofar-Khan, the terrible Emir\nof Bokhara, was encamped; and there on the following day, the 7th\nof August, were brought the prisoners taken at Kolyvan after the\nannihilation of the Russian force, which had vainly attempted to oppose\nthe progress of the invaders. Of the two thousand men who had engaged\nwith the two columns of the enemy, the bases of which rested on Tomsk\nand Omsk, only a few hundred remained. Thus events were going badly,\nand the imperial government appeared to have lost its power beyond the\nfrontiers of the Ural--for a time at least, for the Russians could not\nfail eventually to defeat the savage hordes of the invaders. But in\nthe meantime the invasion had reached the center of Siberia, and it\nwas spreading through the revolted country both to the eastern, and\nthe western provinces. If the troops of the Amoor and the province of\nTakutsk did not arrive in time to occupy it, Irkutsk, the capital of\nAsiatic Russia, being insufficiently garrisoned, would fall into the\nhands of the Tartars, and the Grand Duke, brother of the Emperor, would\nbe sacrificed to the vengeance of Ivan Ogareff.\n\nWhat had become of Michael Strogoff? Had he broken down under the weight\nof so many trials? Did he consider himself conquered by the series\nof disasters which, since the adventure of Ichim, had increased in\nmagnitude? Did he think his cause lost? that his mission had failed?\nthat his orders could no longer be obeyed?\n\nMichael was one of those men who never give in while life exists. He was\nyet alive; he still had the imperial letter safe; his disguise had been\nundiscovered. He was included amongst the numerous prisoners whom the\nTartars were dragging with them like cattle; but by approaching Tomsk he\nwas at the same time drawing nearer to Irkutsk. Besides, he was still in\nfront of Ivan Ogareff.\n\n\"I will get there!\" he repeated to himself.\n\nSince the affair of Kolyvan all the powers of his mind were concentrated\non one object--to become free! How should he escape from the Emir's\nsoldiers?\n\nFeofar's camp presented a magnificent spectacle.\n\nNumberless tents, of skin, felt, or silk, glistened in the rays of the\nsun. The lofty plumes which surmounted their conical tops waved amidst\nbanners, flags, and pennons of every color. The richest of these tents\nbelonged to the Seides and Khodjas, who are the principal personages of\nthe khanat. A special pavilion, ornamented with a horse's tail issuing\nfrom a sheaf of red and white sticks artistically interlaced, indicated\nthe high rank of these Tartar chiefs. Then in the distance rose several\nthousand of the Turcoman tents, called \"karaoy,\" which had been carried\non the backs of camels.\n\nThe camp contained at least a hundred and fifty thousand soldiers,\nas many foot as horse soldiers, collected under the name of Alamanes.\nAmongst them, and as the principal types of Turkestan, would have been\ndirectly remarked the Tadjiks, from their regular features, white skin,\ntall forms, and black eyes and hair; they formed the bulk of the Tartar\narmy, and of them the khanats of Khokhand and Koundouge had furnished\na contingent nearly equal to that of Bokhara. With the Tadjiks were\nmingled specimens of different races who either reside in Turkestan or\nwhose native countries border on it. There were Usbecks, red-bearded,\nsmall in stature, similar to those who had pursued Michael. Here were\nKirghiz, with flat faces like the Kalmucks, dressed in coats of mail:\nsome carried the lance, bows, and arrows of Asiatic manufacture; some\nthe saber, a matchlock gun, and the \"tschakane,\" a little short-handled\nax, the wounds from which invariably prove fatal. There were Mongols--of\nmiddle height, with black hair plaited into pigtails, which hung down\ntheir back; round faces, swarthy complexions, lively deep-set eyes,\nscanty beards--dressed in blue nankeen trimmed with black plush,\nsword-belts of leather with silver buckles, coats gayly braided,\nand silk caps edged with fur and three ribbons fluttering behind.\nBrown-skinned Afghans, too, might have been seen. Arabs, having the\nprimitive type of the beautiful Semitic races; and Turcomans, with eyes\nwhich looked as if they had lost the pupil,--all enrolled under the\nEmir's flag, the flag of incendiaries and devastators.\n\nAmong these free soldiers were a certain number of slave soldiers,\nprincipally Persians, commanded by officers of the same nation, and they\nwere certainly not the least esteemed of Feofar-Khan's army.\n\nIf to this list are added the Jews, who acted as servants, their robes\nconfined with a cord, and wearing on their heads instead of the turban,\nwhich is forbidden them, little caps of dark cloth; if with these\ngroups are mingled some hundreds of \"kalenders,\" a sort of religious\nmendicants, clothed in rags, covered by a leopard skin, some idea may be\nformed of the enormous agglomerations of different tribes included under\nthe general denomination of the Tartar army.\n\nNothing could be more romantic than this picture, in delineating which\nthe most skillful artist would have exhausted all the colors of his\npalette.\n\nFeofar's tent overlooked the others. Draped in large folds of a\nbrilliant silk looped with golden cords and tassels, surmounted by tall\nplumes which waved in the wind like fans, it occupied the center of a\nwide clearing, sheltered by a grove of magnificent birch and pine trees.\nBefore this tent, on a japanned table inlaid with precious stones, was\nplaced the sacred book of the Koran, its pages being of thin gold-leaf\ndelicately engraved. Above floated the Tartar flag, quartered with the\nEmir's arms.\n\nIn a semicircle round the clearing stood the tents of the great\nfunctionaries of Bokhara. There resided the chief of the stables, who\nhas the right to follow the Emir on horseback even into the court of\nhis palace; the grand falconer; the \"housch-begui,\" bearer of the\nroyal seal; the \"toptschi-baschi,\" grand master of the artillery; the\n\"khodja,\" chief of the council, who receives the prince's kiss, and\nmay present himself before him with his girdle untied; the\n\"scheikh-oul-islam,\" chief of the Ulemas, representing the priests; the\n\"cazi-askev,\" who, in the Emir's absence settles all disputes raised\namong the soldiers; and lastly, the chief of the astrologers, whose\ngreat business is to consult the stars every time the Khan thinks of\nchanging his quarters.\n\nWhen the prisoners were brought into the camp, the Emir was in his tent.\nHe did not show himself. This was fortunate, no doubt. A sign, a word\nfrom him might have been the signal for some bloody execution. But\nhe intrenched himself in that isolation which constitutes in part the\nmajesty of Eastern kings. He who does not show himself is admired, and,\nabove all, feared.\n\nAs to the prisoners, they were to be penned up in some enclosure, where,\nill-treated, poorly fed, and exposed to all the inclemencies of the\nweather, they would await Feofar's pleasure.\n\nThe most docile and patient of them all was undoubtedly Michael\nStrogoff. He allowed himself to be led, for they were leading him where\nhe wished to go, and under conditions of safety which free he could not\nhave found on the road from Kolyvan to Tomsk. To escape before reaching\nthat town was to risk again falling into the hands of the scouts, who\nwere scouring the steppe. The most eastern line occupied by the Tartar\ncolumns was not situated beyond the eighty-fifth meridian, which passes\nthrough Tomsk. This meridian once passed, Michael considered that he\nshould be beyond the hostile zones, that he could traverse Genisci\nwithout danger, and gain Krasnoiarsk before Feofar-Khan had invaded the\nprovince.\n\n\"Once at Tomsk,\" he repeated to himself, to repress some feelings of\nimpatience which he could not entirely master, \"in a few minutes I\nshould be beyond the outposts; and twelve hours gained on Feofar, twelve\nhours on Ogareff, that surely would be enough to give me a start of them\nto Irkutsk.\"\n\nThe thing that Michael dreaded more than everything else was the\npresence of Ivan Ogareff in the Tartar camp. Besides the danger of being\nrecognized, he felt, by a sort of instinct, that this was the traitor\nwhom it was especially necessary to precede. He understood, too, that\nthe union of Ogareff's troops with those of Feofar would complete the\ninvading army, and that the junction once effected, the army would march\nen masse on the capital of Eastern Siberia. All his apprehensions came\nfrom this quarter, and he dreaded every instant to hear some flourish of\ntrumpets, announcing the arrival of the lieutenant of the Emir.\n\nTo this was added the thought of his mother, of Nadia,--the one a\nprisoner at Omsk; the other dragged on board the Irtych boats, and no\ndoubt a captive, as Marfa Strogoff was. He could do nothing for them.\nShould he ever see them again? At this question, to which he dared not\nreply, his heart sank very low.\n\nAt the same time with Michael Strogoff and so many other prisoners Harry\nBlount and Alcide Jolivet had also been taken to the Tartar camp. Their\nformer traveling companion, captured like them at the telegraph office,\nknew that they were penned up with him in the enclosure, guarded by\nnumerous sentinels, but he did not wish to accost them. It mattered\nlittle to him, at this time especially, what they might think of him\nsince the affair at Ichim. Besides, he desired to be alone, that he\nmight act alone, if necessary. He therefore held himself aloof from his\nformer acquaintances.\n\nFrom the moment that Harry Blount had fallen by his side, Jolivet had\nnot ceased his attentions to him. During the journey from Kolyvan to\nthe camp--that is to say, for several hours--Blount, by leaning on his\ncompanion's arm, had been enabled to follow the rest of the prisoners.\nHe tried to make known that he was a British subject; but it had no\neffect on the barbarians, who only replied by prods with a lance or\nsword. The correspondent of the Daily Telegraph was, therefore, obliged\nto submit to the common lot, resolving to protest later, and obtain\nsatisfaction for such treatment. But the journey was not the less\ndisagreeable to him, for his wound caused him much pain, and without\nAlcide Jolivet's assistance he might never have reached the camp.\n\nJolivet, whose practical philosophy never abandoned him, had physically\nand morally strengthened his companion by every means in his power. His\nfirst care, when they found themselves definitely established in the\nenclosure, was to examine Blount's wound. Having managed carefully to\ndraw off his coat, he found that the shoulder had been only grazed by\nthe shot.\n\n\"This is nothing,\" he said. \"A mere scratch! After two or three\ndressings you will be all to rights.\"\n\n\"But these dressings?\" asked Blount.\n\n\"I will make them for you myself.\"\n\n\"Then you are something of a doctor?\"\n\n\"All Frenchmen are something of doctors.\"\n\nAnd on this affirmation Alcide, tearing his handkerchief, made lint of\none piece, bandages of the other, took some water from a well dug in the\nmiddle of the enclosure, bathed the wound, and skillfully placed the wet\nrag on Harry Blount's shoulder.\n\n\"I treat you with water,\" he said. \"This liquid is the most efficacious\nsedative known for the treatment of wounds, and is the most employed\nnow. Doctors have taken six thousand years to discover that! Yes, six\nthousand years in round numbers!\"\n\n\"I thank you, M. Jolivet,\" answered Harry, stretching himself on a bed\nof dry leaves, which his companion had arranged for him in the shade of\na birch tree.\n\n\"Bah! it's nothing! You would do as much for me.\"\n\n\"I am not quite so sure,\" said Blount candidly.\n\n\"Nonsense, stupid! All English are generous.\"\n\n\"Doubtless; but the French?\"\n\n\"Well, the French--they are brutes, if you like! But what redeems them\nis that they are French. Say nothing more about that, or rather, say\nnothing more at all. Rest is absolutely necessary for you.\"\n\nBut Harry Blount had no wish to be silent. If the wound, in prudence,\nrequired rest, the correspondent of the Daily Telegraph was not a man to\nindulge himself.\n\n\"M. Jolivet,\" he asked, \"do you think that our last dispatches have been\nable to pass the Russian frontier?\"\n\n\"Why not?\" answered Alcide. \"By this time you may be sure that my\nbeloved cousin knows all about the affair at Kolyvan.\"\n\n\"How many copies does your cousin work off of her dispatches?\" asked\nBlount, for the first time putting his question direct to his companion.\n\n\"Well,\" answered Alcide, laughing, \"my cousin is a very discreet person,\nwho does not like to be talked about, and who would be in despair if she\ntroubled the sleep of which you are in need.\"\n\n\"I don't wish to sleep,\" replied the Englishman. \"What will your cousin\nthink of the affairs of Russia?\"\n\n\"That they seem for the time in a bad way. But, bah! the Muscovite\ngovernment is powerful; it cannot be really uneasy at an invasion of\nbarbarians.\"\n\n\"Too much ambition has lost the greatest empires,\" answered Blount, who\nwas not exempt from a certain English jealousy with regard to Russian\npretensions in Central Asia.\n\n\"Oh, do not let us talk politics,\" cried Jolivet. \"It is forbidden by\nthe faculty. Nothing can be worse for wounds in the shoulder--unless it\nwas to put you to sleep.\"\n\n\"Let us, then, talk of what we ought to do,\" replied Blount. \"M.\nJolivet, I have no intention at all of remaining a prisoner to these\nTartars for an indefinite time.\"\n\n\"Nor I, either, by Jove!\"\n\n\"We will escape on the first opportunity?\"\n\n\"Yes, if there is no other way of regaining our liberty.\"\n\n\"Do you know of any other?\" asked Blount, looking at his companion.\n\n\"Certainly. We are not belligerents; we are neutral, and we will claim\nour freedom.\"\n\n\"From that brute of a Feofar-Khan?\"\n\n\"No; he would not understand,\" answered Jolivet; \"but from his\nlieutenant, Ivan Ogareff.\"\n\n\"He is a villain.\"\n\n\"No doubt; but the villain is a Russian. He knows that it does not do\nto trifle with the rights of men, and he has no interest to retain us;\non the contrary. But to ask a favor of that gentleman does not quite\nsuit my taste.\"\n\n\"But that gentleman is not in the camp, or at least I have not seen him\nhere,\" observed Blount.\n\n\"He will come. He will not fail to do that. He must join the Emir.\nSiberia is cut in two now, and very certainly Feofar's army is only\nwaiting for him to advance on Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"And once free, what shall we do?\"\n\n\"Once free, we will continue our campaign, and follow the Tartars, until\nthe time comes when we can make our way into the Russian camp. We must\nnot give up the game. No, indeed; we have only just begun. You, friend,\nhave already had the honor of being wounded in the service of the Daily\nTelegraph, whilst I--I have as yet suffered nothing in my cousin's\nservice. Well, well! Good,\" murmured Alcide Jolivet; \"there he is\nasleep. A few hours' sleep and a few cold water compresses are all that\nare required to set an Englishman on his legs again. These fellows are\nmade of cast iron.\"\n\nAnd whilst Harry Blount rested, Alcide watched near him, after having\ndrawn out his note book, which he loaded with notes, determined besides\nto share them with his companion, for the greater satisfaction of the\nreaders of the Daily Telegraph. Events had united them one with the\nother. They were no longer jealous of each other. So, then, the thing\nthat Michael Strogoff dreaded above everything was the most lively\ndesire of the two correspondents. Ivan Ogareff's arrival would evidently\nbe of use to them. Blount and Jolivet's interest was, therefore,\ncontrary to that of Michael. The latter well understood the situation,\nand it was one reason, added to many others, which prevented him from\napproaching his former traveling companions. He therefore managed so as\nnot to be seen by them.\n\nFour days passed thus without the state of things being in anywise\naltered. The prisoners heard no talk of the breaking up of the Tartar\ncamp. They were strictly guarded. It would have been impossible for them\nto pass the cordon of foot and horse soldiers, which watched them night\nand day. As to the food which was given them it was barely sufficient.\nTwice in the twenty-four hours they were thrown a piece of the\nintestines of goats grilled on the coals, or a few bits of that cheese\ncalled \"kroute,\" made of sour ewe's milk, and which, soaked in mare's\nmilk, forms the Kirghiz dish, commonly called \"koumyss.\" And this was\nall. It may be added that the weather had become detestable. There were\nconsiderable atmospheric commotions, bringing squalls mingled with rain.\nThe unfortunate prisoners, destitute of shelter, had to bear all the\ninclemencies of the weather, nor was there the slightest alleviation to\ntheir misery. Several wounded women and children died, and the prisoners\nwere themselves compelled to dig graves for the bodies of those whom\ntheir jailers would not even take the trouble to bury.\n\nDuring this trying period Alcide Jolivet and Michael Strogoff worked\nhard, each in the portions of the enclosure in which they found\nthemselves. Healthy and vigorous, they suffered less than so many\nothers, and could better endure the hardships to which they were\nexposed. By their advice, and the assistance they rendered, they were\nof the greatest possible use to their suffering and despairing\nfellow-captives.\n\nWas this state of things to last? Would Feofar-Khan, satisfied with his\nfirst success, wait some time before marching on Irkutsk? Such, it was\nto be feared, would be the case. But it was not so. The event so much\nwished for by Jolivet and Blount, so much dreaded by Michael, occurred\non the morning of the 12th of August.\n\nOn that day the trumpets sounded, the drums beat, the cannon roared.\nA huge cloud of dust swept along the road from Kolyvan. Ivan Ogareff,\nfollowed by several thousand men, made his entry into the Tartar camp.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE\n\nIVAN OGAREFF was bringing up the main body of the army of the Emir. The\ncavalry and infantry now under him had formed part of the column which\nhad taken Omsk. Ogareff, not having been able to reduce the high town,\nin which, it must be remembered, the governor and garrison had sought\nrefuge, had decided to pass on, not wishing to delay operations which\nought to lead to the conquest of Eastern Siberia. He therefore left a\ngarrison in Omsk, and, reinforcing himself en route with the conquerors\nof Kolyvan, joined Feofar's army.\n\nIvan Ogareff's soldiers halted at the outposts of the camp. They\nreceived no orders to bivouac. Their chief's plan, doubtless, was not\nto halt there, but to press on and reach Tomsk in the shortest possible\ntime, it being an important town, naturally intended to become the\ncenter of future operations.\n\nBesides his soldiers, Ogareff was bringing a convoy of Russian and\nSiberian prisoners, captured either at Omsk or Kolyvan. These unhappy\ncreatures were not led to the enclosure--already too crowded--but\nwere forced to remain at the outposts without shelter, almost without\nnourishment. What fate was Feofar-Khan reserving for these unfortunates?\nWould he imprison them in Tomsk, or would some bloody execution,\nfamiliar to the Tartar chiefs, remove them when they were found too\ninconvenient? This was the secret of the capricious Emir.\n\nThis army had not come from Omsk and Kolyvan without bringing in its\ntrain the usual crowd of beggars, freebooters, pedlars, and gypsies,\nwhich compose the rear-guard of an army on the march.\n\nAll these people lived on the country traversed, and left little of\nanything behind them. There was, therefore, a necessity for pushing\nforward, if only to secure provisions for the troops. The whole region\nbetween Ichim and the Obi, now completely devastated, no longer offered\nany resources. The Tartars left a desert behind them.\n\nConspicuous among the gypsies who had hastened from the western\nprovinces was the Tsigane troop, which had accompanied Michael Strogoff\nas far as Perm. Sangarre was there. This fierce spy, the tool of Ivan\nOgareff, had not deserted her master. Ogareff had traveled rapidly\nto Ichim, whilst Sangarre and her band had proceeded to Omsk by the\nsouthern part of the province.\n\nIt may be easily understood how useful this woman was to Ogareff. With\nher gypsy-band she could penetrate anywhere. Ivan Ogareff was kept\nacquainted with all that was going on in the very heart of the invaded\nprovinces. There were a hundred eyes, a hundred ears, open in his\nservice. Besides, he paid liberally for this espionage, from which he\nderived so much advantage.\n\nOnce Sangarre, being implicated in a very serious affair, had been saved\nby the Russian officer. She never forgot what she owed him, and had\ndevoted herself to his service body and soul.\n\nWhen Ivan Ogareff entered on the path of treason, he saw at once how\nhe might turn this woman to account. Whatever order he might give her,\nSangarre would execute it. An inexplicable instinct, more powerful still\nthan that of gratitude, had urged her to make herself the slave of the\ntraitor to whom she had been attached since the very beginning of his\nexile in Siberia.\n\nConfidante and accomplice, Sangarre, without country, without family,\nhad been delighted to put her vagabond life to the service of the\ninvaders thrown by Ogareff on Siberia. To the wonderful cunning natural\nto her race she added a wild energy, which knew neither forgiveness nor\npity. She was a savage worthy to share the wigwam of an Apache or the\nhut of an Andaman.\n\nSince her arrival at Omsk, where she had rejoined him with her Tsiganes,\nSangarre had not again left Ogareff. The circumstance that Michael and\nMarfa Strogoff had met was known to her. She knew and shared Ogareff's\nfears concerning the journey of a courier of the Czar. Having Marfa\nStrogoff in her power, she would have been the woman to torture her with\nall the refinement of a Redskin in order to wrest her secret from her.\nBut the hour had not yet come in which Ogareff wished the old Siberian\nto speak. Sangarre had to wait, and she waited, without losing sight\nof her whom she was watching, observing her slightest gestures, her\nslightest words, endeavoring to catch the word \"son\" escaping from her\nlips, but as yet always baffled by Marfa's taciturnity.\n\nAt the first flourish of the trumpets several officers of high rank,\nfollowed by a brilliant escort of Usbeck horsemen, moved to the front of\nthe camp to receive Ivan Ogareff. Arrived in his presence, they paid him\nthe greatest respect, and invited him to accompany them to Feofar-Khan's\ntent.\n\nImperturbable as usual, Ogareff replied coldly to the deference paid to\nhim. He was plainly dressed; but, from a sort of impudent bravado, he\nstill wore the uniform of a Russian officer.\n\nAs he was about to enter the camp, Sangarre, passing among the officers\napproached and remained motionless before him. \"Nothing?\" asked Ogareff.\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Have patience.\"\n\n\"Is the time approaching when you will force the old woman to speak?\"\n\n\"It is approaching, Sangarre.\"\n\n\"When will the old woman speak?\"\n\n\"When we reach Tomsk.\"\n\n\"And we shall be there--\"\n\n\"In three days.\"\n\nA strange gleam shot from Sangarre's great black eyes, and she retired\nwith a calm step. Ogareff pressed his spurs into his horse's flanks,\nand, followed by his staff of Tartar officers, rode towards the Emir's\ntent.\n\nFeofar-Khan was expecting his lieutenant. The council, composed of the\nbearer of the royal seal, the khodja, and some high officers, had taken\ntheir places in the tent. Ivan Ogareff dismounted and entered.\n\nFeofar-Khan was a man of forty, tall, rather pale, of a fierce\ncountenance, and evil eyes. A curly black beard flowed over his chest.\nWith his war costume, coat of mail of gold and silver, cross-belt and\nscabbard glistening with precious stones, boots with golden spurs,\nhelmet ornamented with an aigrette of brilliant diamonds, Feofar\npresented an aspect rather strange than imposing for a Tartar\nSardana-palus, an undisputed sovereign, who directs at his pleasure the\nlife and fortune of his subjects.\n\nWhen Ivan Ogareff appeared, the great dignitaries remained seated on\ntheir gold-embroidered cushions; but Feofar rose from a rich divan which\noccupied the back part of the tent, the ground being hidden under the\nthick velvet-pile of a Bokharian carpet.\n\nThe Emir approached Ogareff and gave him a kiss, the meaning of which he\ncould not mistake. This kiss made the lieutenant chief of the council,\nand placed him temporarily above the khodja.\n\nThen Feofar spoke. \"I have no need to question you,\" said he; \"speak,\nIvan. You will find here ears very ready to listen to you.\"\n\n\"Takhsir,\" answered Ogareff, \"this is what I have to make known to you.\"\nHe spoke in the Tartar language, giving to his phrases the emphatic turn\nwhich distinguishes the languages of the Orientals. \"Takhsir, this is\nnot the time for unnecessary words. What I have done at the head of your\ntroops, you know. The lines of the Ichim and the Irtych are now in\nour power; and the Turcoman horsemen can bathe their horses in the now\nTartar waters. The Kirghiz hordes rose at the voice of Feofar-Khan. You\ncan now push your troops towards the east, and where the sun rises, or\ntowards the west, where he sets.\"\n\n\"And if I march with the sun?\" asked the Emir, without his countenance\nbetraying any of his thoughts.\n\n\"To march with the sun,\" answered Ogareff, \"is to throw yourself towards\nEurope; it is to conquer rapidly the Siberian provinces of Tobolsk as\nfar as the Ural Mountains.\"\n\n\"And if I go to meet this luminary of the heavens?\"\n\n\"It is to subdue to the Tartar dominion, with Irkutsk, the richest\ncountries of Central Asia.\"\n\n\"But the armies of the Sultan of St. Petersburg?\" said Feofar-Khan,\ndesignating the Emperor of Russia by this strange title.\n\n\"You have nothing to fear from them,\" replied Ivan Ogareff. \"The\ninvasion has been sudden; and before the Russian army can succor them,\nIrkutsk or Tobolsk will have fallen into your power. The Czar's troops\nhave been overwhelmed at Kolyvan, as they will be everywhere where yours\nmeet them.\"\n\n\"And what advice does your devotion to the Tartar cause suggest?\" asked\nthe Emir, after a few moments' silence.\n\n\"My advice,\" answered Ivan Ogareff quickly, \"is to march to meet the\nsun. It is to give the grass of the eastern steppes to the Turcoman\nhorses to consume. It is to take Irkutsk, the capital of the eastern\nprovinces, and with it a hostage, the possession of whom is worth a\nwhole country. In the place of the Czar, the Grand Duke his brother must\nfall into your hands.\"\n\nThis was the great result aimed at by Ivan Ogareff. To listen to him,\none would have taken him for one of the cruel descendants of Stephan\nRazine, the celebrated pirate who ravaged Southern Russia in the\neighteenth century. To seize the Grand Duke, murder him pitilessly,\nwould fully satisfy his hatred. Besides, with the capture of Irkutsk,\nall Eastern Siberia would pass to the Tartars.\n\n\"It shall be thus, Ivan,\" replied Feofar.\n\n\"What are your orders, Takhsir?\"\n\n\"To-day our headquarters shall be removed to Tomsk.\"\n\nOgareff bowed, and, followed by the housch-begui, he retired to execute\nthe Emir's orders.\n\nAs he was about to mount his horse, to return to the outposts, a tumult\nbroke out at some distance, in the part of the camp reserved for the\nprisoners. Shouts were heard, and two or three shots fired. Perhaps it\nwas an attempt at revolt or escape, which must be summarily suppressed.\n\nIvan Ogareff and the housch-begui walked forward and almost immediately\ntwo men, whom the soldiers had not been able to keep back appeared\nbefore them.\n\nThe housch-begui, without more information, made a sign which was an\norder for death, and the heads of the two prisoners would have rolled on\nthe ground had not Ogareff uttered a few words which arrested the sword\nalready raised aloft. The Russian had perceived that these prisoners\nwere strangers, and he ordered them to be brought to him.\n\nThey were Harry Blount and Alcide jolivet.\n\nOn Ogareff's arrival in the camp, they had demanded to be conducted to\nhis presence. The soldiers had refused. In consequence, a struggle,\nan attempt at flight, shots fired which happily missed the two\ncorrespondents, but their execution would not have been long delayed, if\nit had not been for the intervention of the Emir's lieutenant.\n\nThe latter observed the prisoners for some moments, they being\nabsolutely unknown to him. They had been present at that scene in\nthe post-house at Ichim, in which Michael Strogoff had been struck by\nOgareff; but the brutal traveler had paid no attention to the persons\nthen collected in the common room.\n\nBlount and Jolivet, on the contrary, recognized him at once, and the\nlatter said in a low voice, \"Hullo! It seems that Colonel Ogareff and\nthe rude personage of Ichim are one!\" Then he added in his companion's\near, \"Explain our affair, Blount. You will do me a service. This Russian\ncolonel in the midst of a Tartar camp disgusts me; and although, thanks\nto him, my head is still on my shoulders, my eyes would exhibit my\nfeelings were I to attempt to look him in the face.\"\n\nSo saying, Alcide Jolivet assumed a look of complete and haughty\nindifference.\n\nWhether or not Ivan Ogareff perceived that the prisoner's attitude\nwas insulting towards him, he did not let it appear. \"Who are you,\ngentlemen?\" he asked in Russian, in a cold tone, but free from its usual\nrudeness.\n\n\"Two correspondents of English and French newspapers,\" replied Blount\nlaconically.\n\n\"You have, doubtless, papers which will establish your identity?\"\n\n\"Here are letters which accredit us in Russia, from the English and\nFrench chancellor's office.\"\n\nIvan Ogareff took the letters which Blount held out, and read them\nattentively. \"You ask,\" said he, \"authorization to follow our military\noperations in Siberia?\"\n\n\"We ask to be free, that is all,\" answered the English correspondent\ndryly.\n\n\"You are so, gentlemen,\" answered Ogareff; \"I am curious to read your\narticles in the Daily Telegraph.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" replied Blount, with the most imperturbable coolness, \"it is\nsixpence a number, including postage.\" And thereupon he returned to his\ncompanion, who appeared to approve completely of his replies.\n\nIvan Ogareff, without frowning, mounted his horse, and going to the head\nof his escort, soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.\n\n\"Well, Jolivet, what do you think of Colonel Ivan Ogareff,\ngeneral-in-chief of the Tartar troops?\" asked Blount.\n\n\"I think, my dear friend,\" replied Alcide, smiling, \"that the\nhousch-begui made a very graceful gesture when he gave the order for our\nheads to be cut off.\"\n\nWhatever was the motive which led Ogareff to act thus in regard to the\ntwo correspondents, they were free and could rove at their pleasure\nover the scene of war. Their intention was not to leave it. The sort of\nantipathy which formerly they had entertained for each other had\ngiven place to a sincere friendship. Circumstances having brought them\ntogether, they no longer thought of separating. The petty questions of\nrivalry were forever extinguished. Harry Blount could never forget what\nhe owed his companion, who, on the other hand, never tried to remind him\nof it. This friendship too assisted the reporting operations, and was\nthus to the advantage of their readers.\n\n\"And now,\" asked Blount, \"what shall we do with our liberty?\"\n\n\"Take advantage of it, of course,\" replied Alcide, \"and go quietly to\nTomsk to see what is going on there.\"\n\n\"Until the time--very near, I hope--when we may rejoin some Russian\nregiment?\"\n\n\"As you say, my dear Blount, it won't do to Tartarise ourselves too\nmuch. The best side is that of the most civilized army, and it is\nevident that the people of Central Asia will have everything to lose and\nabsolutely nothing to gain from this invasion, while the Russians will\nsoon repulse them. It is only a matter of time.\"\n\nThe arrival of Ivan Ogareff, which had given Jolivet and Blount their\nliberty, was to Michael Strogoff, on the contrary, a serious danger.\nShould chance bring the Czar's courier into Ogareff's presence, the\nlatter could not fail to recognize in him the traveler whom he had so\nbrutally treated at the Ichim post-house, and although Michael had\nnot replied to the insult as he would have done under any other\ncircumstances, attention would be drawn to him, and at once the\naccomplishment of his plans would be rendered more difficult.\n\nThis was the unpleasant side of the business. A favorable result of his\narrival, however, was the order which was given to raise the camp\nthat very day, and remove the headquarters to Tomsk. This was the\naccomplishment of Michael's most fervent desire. His intention, as has\nbeen said, was to reach Tomsk concealed amongst the other prisoners;\nthat is to say, without any risk of falling into the hands of the scouts\nwho swarmed about the approaches to this important town. However, in\nconsequence of the arrival of Ivan Ogareff, he questioned whether it\nwould not be better to give up his first plan and attempt to escape\nduring the journey.\n\nMichael would, no doubt, have kept to the latter plan had he not learnt\nthat Feofar-Khan and Ogareff had already set out for the town with some\nthousands of horsemen. \"I will wait, then,\" said he to himself; \"at\nleast, unless some exceptional opportunity for escape occurs. The\nadverse chances are numerous on this side of Tomsk, while beyond I shall\nin a few hours have passed the most advanced Tartar posts to the east.\nStill three days of patience, and may God aid me!\"\n\nIt was indeed a journey of three days which the prisoners, under the\nguard of a numerous detachment of Tartars, were to make across the\nsteppe. A hundred and fifty versts lay between the camp and the town--an\neasy march for the Emir's soldiers, who wanted for nothing, but a\nwretched journey for these people, enfeebled by privations. More than\none corpse would show the road they had traversed.\n\nIt was two o'clock in the afternoon, on the 12th of August, under a hot\nsun and cloudless sky, that the toptschi-baschi gave the order to start.\n\nAlcide and Blount, having bought horses, had already taken the road to\nTomsk, where events were to reunite the principal personages of this\nstory.\n\nAmongst the prisoners brought by Ivan Ogareff to the Tartar camp was an\nold woman, whose taciturnity seemed to keep her apart from all those\nwho shared her fate. Not a murmur issued from her lips. She was like a\nstatue of grief. This woman was more strictly guarded than anyone else,\nand, without her appearing to notice, was constantly watched by the\nTsigane Sangarre. Notwithstanding her age she was compelled to follow\nthe convoy of prisoners on foot, without any alleviation of her\nsuffering.\n\nHowever, a kind Providence had placed near her a courageous,\nkind-hearted being to comfort and assist her. Amongst her companions in\nmisfortune a young girl, remarkable for beauty and taciturnity, seemed\nto have given herself the task of watching over her. No words had been\nexchanged between the two captives, but the girl was always at the old\nwoman's side when help was useful. At first the mute assistance of the\nstranger was accepted with some mistrust. Gradually, however, the young\ngirl's clear glance, her reserve, and the mysterious sympathy which\ndraws together those who are in misfortune, thawed Marfa Strogoff's\ncoldness.\n\nNadia--for it was she--was thus able, without knowing it, to render to\nthe mother those attentions which she had herself received from the son.\nHer instinctive kindness had doubly inspired her. In devoting herself\nto her service, Nadia secured to her youth and beauty the protection\nafforded by the age of the old prisoner.\n\nOn the crowd of unhappy people, embittered by sufferings, this\nsilent pair--one seeming to be the grandmother, the other the\ngrand-daughter--imposed a sort of respect.\n\nAfter being carried off by the Tartar scouts on the Irtych, Nadia had\nbeen taken to Omsk. Kept prisoner in the town, she shared the fate\nof all those captured by Ivan Ogareff, and consequently that of Marfa\nStrogoff.\n\nIf Nadia had been less energetic, she would have succumbed to this\ndouble blow. The interruption to her journey, the death of Michael,\nmade her both desperate and excited. Divided, perhaps forever, from her\nfather, after so many happy efforts had brought her near him, and, to\ncrown her grief, separated from the intrepid companion whom God seemed\nto have placed in her way to lead her. The image of Michael Strogoff,\nstruck before her eyes with a lance and disappearing beneath the waters\nof the Irtych, never left her thoughts.\n\nCould such a man have died thus? For whom was God reserving His miracles\nif this good man, whom a noble object was urging onwards, had been\nallowed to perish so miserably? Then anger would prevail over grief. The\nscene of the affront so strangely borne by her companion at the Ichim\nrelay returned to her memory. Her blood boiled at the recollection.\n\n\"Who will avenge him who can no longer avenge himself?\" she said.\n\nAnd in her heart, she cried, \"May it be I!\" If before his death Michael\nhad confided his secret to her, woman, aye girl though she was, she\nmight have been able to carry to a successful conclusion the interrupted\ntask of that brother whom God had so soon taken from her.\n\nAbsorbed in these thoughts, it can be understood how Nadia could remain\ninsensible to the miseries even of her captivity. Thus chance had united\nher to Marfa Strogoff without her having the least suspicion of who she\nwas. How could she imagine that this old woman, a prisoner like herself,\nwas the mother of him, whom she only knew as the merchant Nicholas\nKorpanoff? And on the other hand, how could Marfa guess that a bond of\ngratitude connected this young stranger with her son?\n\nThe thing that first struck Nadia in Marfa Strogoff was the similarity\nin the way in which each bore her hard fate. This stoicism of the old\nwoman under the daily hardships, this contempt of bodily suffering,\ncould only be caused by a moral grief equal to her own. So Nadia\nthought; and she was not mistaken. It was an instinctive sympathy for\nthat part of her misery which Marfa did not show which first drew Nadia\ntowards her. This way of bearing her sorrow went to the proud heart of\nthe young girl. She did not offer her services; she gave them. Marfa\nhad neither to refuse nor accept them. In the difficult parts of the\njourney, the girl was there to support her. When the provisions were\ngiven out, the old woman would not have moved, but Nadia shared her\nsmall portion with her; and thus this painful journey was performed.\nThanks to her companion, Marfa was able to follow the soldiers who\nguarded the prisoners without being fastened to a saddle-bow, as were\nmany other unfortunate wretches, and thus dragged along this road of\nsorrow.\n\n\"May God reward you, my daughter, for what you have done for my old\nage!\" said Marfa Strogoff once, and for some time these were the only\nwords exchanged between the two unfortunate beings.\n\nDuring these few days, which to them appeared like centuries, it would\nseem that the old woman and the girl would have been led to speak of\ntheir situation. But Marfa Strogoff, from a caution which may be easily\nunderstood, never spoke about herself except with the greatest brevity.\nShe never made the smallest allusion to her son, nor to the unfortunate\nmeeting.\n\nNadia also, if not completely silent, spoke little. However, one day her\nheart overflowed, and she told all the events which had occurred from\nher departure from Wladimir to the death of Nicholas Korpanoff.\n\nAll that her young companion told intensely interested the old Siberian.\n\"Nicholas Korpanoff!\" said she. \"Tell me again about this Nicholas.\nI know only one man, one alone, in whom such conduct would not have\nastonished me. Nicholas Korpanoff! Was that really his name? Are you\nsure of it, my daughter?\"\n\n\"Why should he have deceived me in this,\" replied Nadia, \"when he\ndeceived me in no other way?\"\n\nMoved, however, by a kind of presentiment, Marfa Strogoff put questions\nupon questions to Nadia.\n\n\"You told me he was fearless, my daughter. You have proved that he has\nbeen so?\" asked she.\n\n\"Yes, fearless indeed!\" replied Nadia.\n\n\"It was just what my son would have done,\" said Marfa to herself.\n\nThen she resumed, \"Did you not say that nothing stopped him, nor\nastonished him; that he was so gentle in his strength that you had\na sister as well as a brother in him, and he watched over you like a\nmother?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Nadia. \"Brother, sister, mother--he has been all to\nme!\"\n\n\"And defended you like a lion?\"\n\n\"A lion indeed!\" replied Nadia. \"A lion, a hero!\"\n\n\"My son, my son!\" thought the old Siberian. \"But you said, however, that\nhe bore a terrible insult at that post-house in Ichim?\"\n\n\"He did bear it,\" answered Nadia, looking down.\n\n\"He bore it!\" murmured Marfa, shuddering.\n\n\"Mother, mother,\" cried Nadia, \"do not blame him! He had a secret. A\nsecret of which God alone is as yet the judge!\"\n\n\"And,\" said Marfa, raising her head and looking at Nadia as though she\nwould read the depths of her heart, \"in that hour of humiliation did you\nnot despise this Nicholas Korpanoff?\"\n\n\"I admired without understanding him,\" replied the girl. \"I never felt\nhim more worthy of respect.\"\n\nThe old woman was silent for a minute.\n\n\"Was he tall?\" she asked.\n\n\"Very tall.\"\n\n\"And very handsome? Come, speak, my daughter.\"\n\n\"He was very handsome,\" replied Nadia, blushing.\n\n\"It was my son! I tell you it was my son!\" exclaimed the old woman,\nembracing Nadia.\n\n\"Your son!\" said Nadia amazed, \"your son!\"\n\n\"Come,\" said Marfa; \"let us get to the bottom of this, my child. Your\ncompanion, your friend, your protector had a mother. Did he never speak\nto you of his mother?\"\n\n\"Of his mother?\" said Nadia. \"He spoke to me of his mother as I spoke to\nhim of my father--often, always. He adored her.\"\n\n\"Nadia, Nadia, you have just told me about my own son,\" said the old\nwoman.\n\nAnd she added impetuously, \"Was he not going to see this mother, whom\nyou say he loved, in Omsk?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Nadia, \"no, he was not.\"\n\n\"Not!\" cried Marfa. \"You dare to tell me not!\"\n\n\"I say so: but it remains to me to tell you that from motives which\noutweighed everything else, motives which I do not know, I understand\nthat Nicholas Korpanoff had to traverse the country completely in\nsecret. To him it was a question of life and death, and still more, a\nquestion of duty and honor.\"\n\n\"Duty, indeed, imperious duty,\" said the old Siberian, \"of those who\nsacrifice everything, even the joy of giving a kiss, perhaps the last,\nto his old mother. All that you do not know, Nadia--all that I did not\nknow myself--I now know. You have made me understand everything. But\nthe light which you have thrown on the mysteries of my heart, I cannot\nreturn on yours. Since my son has not told you his secret, I must keep\nit. Forgive me, Nadia; I can never repay what you have done for me.\"\n\n\"Mother, I ask you nothing,\" replied Nadia.\n\nAll was thus explained to the old Siberian, all, even the conduct of her\nson with regard to herself in the inn at Omsk. There was no doubt that\nthe young girl's companion was Michael Strogoff, and that a secret\nmission in the invaded country obliged him to conceal his quality of the\nCzar's courier.\n\n\"Ah, my brave boy!\" thought Marfa. \"No, I will not betray you, and\ntortures shall not wrest from me the avowal that it was you whom I saw\nat Omsk.\"\n\nMarfa could with a word have paid Nadia for all her devotion to her. She\ncould have told her that her companion, Nicholas Korpanoff, or rather\nMichael Strogoff, had not perished in the waters of the Irtych, since\nit was some days after that incident that she had met him, that she had\nspoken to him.\n\nBut she restrained herself, she was silent, and contented herself with\nsaying, \"Hope, my child! Misfortune will not overwhelm you. You will see\nyour father again; I feel it; and perhaps he who gave you the name of\nsister is not dead. God cannot have allowed your brave companion to\nperish. Hope, my child, hope! Do as I do. The mourning which I wear is\nnot yet for my son.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III BLOW FOR BLOW\n\nSUCH were now the relative situations of Marfa Strogoff and Nadia.\nAll was understood by the old Siberian, and though the young girl was\nignorant that her much-regretted companion still lived, she at least\nknew his relationship to her whom she had made her mother; and she\nthanked God for having given her the joy of taking the place of the son\nwhom the prisoner had lost.\n\nBut what neither of them could know was that Michael, having been\ncaptured at Kolyvan, was in the same convoy and was on his way to Tomsk\nwith them.\n\nThe prisoners brought by Ivan Ogareff had been added to those already\nkept by the Emir in the Tartar camp. These unfortunate people,\nconsisting of Russians, Siberians, soldiers and civilians, numbered some\nthousands, and formed a column which extended over several versts. Some\namong them being considered dangerous were handcuffed and fastened to\na long chain. There were, too, women and children, many of the latter\nsuspended to the pommels of the saddles, while the former were dragged\nmercilessly along the road on foot, or driven forward as if they were\nanimals. The horsemen compelled them to maintain a certain order, and\nthere were no laggards with the exception of those who fell never to\nrise again.\n\nIn consequence of this arrangement, Michael Strogoff, marching in the\nfirst ranks of those who had left the Tartar camp--that is to say, among\nthe Kolyvan prisoners--was unable to mingle with the prisoners who had\narrived after him from Omsk. He had therefore no suspicion that his\nmother and Nadia were present in the convoy, nor did they suppose\nthat he was among those in front. This journey from the camp to Tomsk,\nperformed under the lashes and spear-points of the soldiers, proved\nfatal to many, and terrible to all. The prisoners traveled across the\nsteppe, over a road made still more dusty by the passage of the Emir and\nhis vanguard. Orders had been given to march rapidly. The short halts\nwere rare. The hundred miles under a burning sky seemed interminable,\nthough they were performed as rapidly as possible.\n\nThe country, which extends from the right of the Obi to the base of the\nspur detached from the Sayanok Mountains, is very sterile. Only a few\nstunted and burnt-up shrubs here and there break the monotony of the\nimmense plain. There was no cultivation, for there was no water; and\nit was water that the prisoners, parched by their painful march, most\nneeded. To find a stream they must have diverged fifty versts eastward,\nto the very foot of the mountains.\n\nThere flows the Tom, a little affluent of the Obi, which passes near\nTomsk before losing itself in one of the great northern arteries. There\nwater would have been abundant, the steppe less arid, the heat less\nsevere. But the strictest orders had been given to the commanders of the\nconvoy to reach Tomsk by the shortest way, for the Emir was much\nafraid of being taken in the flank and cut off by some Russian column\ndescending from the northern provinces.\n\nIt is useless to dwell upon the sufferings of the unhappy prisoners.\nMany hundreds fell on the steppe, where their bodies would lie until\nwinter, when the wolves would devour the remnants of their bones.\n\nAs Nadia helped the old Siberian, so in the same way did Michael\nrender to his more feeble companions in misfortune such services as his\nsituation allowed. He encouraged some, supported others, going to and\nfro, until a prick from a soldier's lance obliged him to resume the\nplace which had been assigned him in the ranks.\n\nWhy did he not endeavor to escape?\n\nThe reason was that he had now quite determined not to venture until the\nsteppe was safe for him. He was resolved in his idea of going as far as\nTomsk \"at the Emir's expense,\" and indeed he was right. As he observed\nthe numerous detachments which scoured the plain on the convoy's flanks,\nnow to the south, now to the north, it was evident that before he could\nhave gone two versts he must have been recaptured. The Tartar horsemen\nswarmed--it actually appeared as if they sprang from the earth--like\ninsects which a thunderstorm brings to the surface of the ground. Flight\nunder these conditions would have been extremely difficult, if not\nimpossible. The soldiers of the escort displayed excessive vigilance,\nfor they would have paid for the slightest carelessness with their\nheads.\n\nAt nightfall of the 15th of August, the convoy reached the little\nvillage of Zabediero, thirty versts from Tomsk.\n\nThe prisoners' first movement would have been to rush into the river,\nbut they were not allowed to leave the ranks until the halt had been\norganized. Although the current of the Tom was just now like a torrent,\nit might have favored the flight of some bold or desperate man, and\nthe strictest measures of vigilance were taken. Boats, requisitioned\nat Zabediero, were brought up to the Tom and formed a line of obstacles\nimpossible to pass. As to the encampment on the outskirts of the\nvillage, it was guarded by a cordon of sentinels.\n\nMichael Strogoff, who now naturally thought of escape, saw, after\ncarefully surveying the situation, that under these conditions it was\nperfectly impossible; so, not wishing to compromise himself, he waited.\n\nThe prisoners were to encamp for the whole night on the banks of the\nTom, for the Emir had put off the entrance of his troops into Tomsk. It\nhad been decided that a military fete should mark the inauguration of\nthe Tartar headquarters in this important city. Feofar-Khan already\noccupied the fortress, but the bulk of his army bivouacked under its\nwalls, waiting until the time came for them to make a solemn entry.\n\nIvan Ogareff left the Emir at Tomsk, where both had arrived the evening\nbefore, and returned to the camp at Zabediero. From here he was to start\nthe next day with the rear-guard of the Tartar army. A house had been\narranged for him in which to pass the night. At sunrise horse and foot\nsoldiers were to proceed to Tomsk, where the Emir wished to receive\nthem with the pomp usual to Asiatic sovereigns. As soon as the halt was\norganized, the prisoners, worn out with their three days' journey, and\nsuffering from burning thirst, could drink and take a little rest. The\nsun had already set, when Nadia, supporting Marfa Strogoff, reached the\nbanks of the Tom. They had not till then been able to get through those\nwho crowded the banks, but at last they came to drink in their turn.\n\nThe old woman bent over the clear stream, and Nadia, plunging in her\nhand, carried it to Marfa's lips. Then she refreshed herself. They\nfound new life in these welcome waters. Suddenly Nadia started up; an\ninvoluntary cry escaped her.\n\nMichael Strogoff was there, a few steps from her. It was he. The dying\nrays of the sun fell upon him.\n\nAt Nadia's cry Michael started. But he had sufficient command over\nhimself not to utter a word by which he might have been compromised. And\nyet, when he saw Nadia, he also recognized his mother.\n\nFeeling he could not long keep master of himself at this unexpected\nmeeting, he covered his eyes with his hands and walked quickly away.\n\nNadia's impulse was to run after him, but the old Siberian murmured in\nher ear, \"Stay, my daughter!\"\n\n\"It is he!\" replied Nadia, choking with emotion. \"He lives, mother! It\nis he!\"\n\n\"It is my son,\" answered Marfa, \"it is Michael Strogoff, and you see\nthat I do not make a step towards him! Imitate me, my daughter.\"\n\nMichael had just experienced the most violent emotion which a man can\nfeel. His mother and Nadia were there!\n\nThe two prisoners who were always together in his heart, God had brought\nthem together in this common misfortune. Did Nadia know who he was? Yes,\nfor he had seen Marfa's gesture, holding her back as she was about to\nrush towards him. Marfa, then, had understood all, and kept his secret.\n\nDuring that night, Michael was twenty times on the point of looking for\nand joining his mother; but he knew that he must resist the longing he\nfelt to take her in his arms, and once more press the hand of his young\ncompanion. The least imprudence might be fatal. He had besides sworn not\nto see his mother. Once at Tomsk, since he could not escape this very\nnight, he would set off without having even embraced the two beings\nin whom all the happiness of his life was centered, and whom he should\nleave exposed to so many perils.\n\nMichael hoped that this fresh meeting at the Zabediero camp would have\nno disastrous consequences either to his mother or to himself. But he\ndid not know that part of this scene, although it passed so rapidly, had\nbeen observed by Sangarre, Ogareff's spy.\n\nThe Tsigane was there, a few paces off, on the bank, as usual, watching\nthe old Siberian woman. She had not caught sight of Michael, for he\ndisappeared before she had time to look around; but the mother's gesture\nas she kept back Nadia had not escaped her, and the look in Marfa's eyes\ntold her all.\n\nIt was now beyond doubt that Marfa Strogoff's son, the Czar's courier,\nwas at this moment in Zabediero, among Ivan Ogareff's prisoners.\nSangarre did not know him, but she knew that he was there. She did not\nthen attempt to discover him, for it would have been impossible in the\ndark and the immense crowd.\n\nAs for again watching Nadia and Marfa Strogoff, that was equally\nuseless. It was evident that the two women would keep on their\nguard, and it would be impossible to overhear anything of a nature to\ncompromise the courier of the Czar. The Tsigane's first thought was\nto tell Ivan Ogareff. She therefore immediately left the encampment. A\nquarter of an hour after, she reached Zabediero, and was shown into the\nhouse occupied by the Emir's lieutenant. Ogareff received the Tsigane\ndirectly.\n\n\"What have you to tell me, Sangarre?\" he asked.\n\n\"Marfa Strogoff's son is in the encampment.\"\n\n\"A prisoner?\"\n\n\"A prisoner.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Ogareff, \"I shall know--\"\n\n\"You will know nothing, Ivan,\" replied Tsigane; \"for you do not even\nknow him by sight.\"\n\n\"But you know him; you have seen him, Sangarre?\"\n\n\"I have not seen him; but his mother betrayed herself by a gesture,\nwhich told me everything.\"\n\n\"Are you not mistaken?\"\n\n\"I am not mistaken.\"\n\n\"You know the importance which I attach to the apprehension of this\ncourier,\" said Ivan Ogareff. \"If the letter which he has brought from\nMoscow reaches Irkutsk, if it is given to the Grand Duke, the Grand Duke\nwill be on his guard, and I shall not be able to get at him. I must have\nthat letter at any price. Now you come to tell me that the bearer of\nthis letter is in my power. I repeat, Sangarre, are you not mistaken?\"\n\nOgareff spoke with great animation. His emotion showed the extreme\nimportance he attached to the possession of this letter. Sangarre\nwas not at all put out by the urgency with which Ogareff repeated his\nquestion. \"I am not mistaken, Ivan,\" she said.\n\n\"But, Sangarre, there are thousands of prisoners; and you say that you\ndo not know Michael Strogoff.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the Tsigane, with a look of savage joy, \"I do not know\nhim; but his mother knows him. Ivan, we must make his mother speak.\"\n\n\"To-morrow she shall speak!\" cried Ogareff. So saying, he extended his\nhand to the Tsigane, who kissed it; for there is nothing servile in this\nact of respect, it being usual among the Northern races.\n\nSangarre returned to the camp. She found out Nadia and Marfa Strogoff,\nand passed the night in watching them. Although worn out with fatigue,\nthe old woman and the girl did not sleep. Their great anxiety kept them\nawake. Michael was living, but a prisoner. Did Ogareff know him, or\nwould he not soon find him out? Nadia was occupied by the one thought\nthat he whom she had thought dead still lived. But Marfa saw further\ninto the future: and, although she did not care what became of herself,\nshe had every reason to fear for her son.\n\nSangarre, under cover of the night, had crept near the two women, and\nremained there several hours listening. She heard nothing. From an\ninstinctive feeling of prudence not a word was exchanged between Nadia\nand Marfa Strogoff. The next day, the 16th of August, about ten in the\nmorning, trumpet-calls resounded throughout the encampment. The Tartar\nsoldiers were almost immediately under arms.\n\nIvan Ogareff arrived, surrounded by a large staff of Tartar officers.\nHis face was more clouded than usual, and his knitted brow gave signs of\nlatent wrath which was waiting for an occasion to break forth.\n\nMichael Strogoff, hidden in a group of prisoners, saw this man pass. He\nhad a presentiment that some catastrophe was imminent: for Ivan Ogareff\nknew now that Marfa was the mother of Michael Strogoff.\n\nOgareff dismounted, and his escort cleared a large circle round him.\nJust then Sangarre approached him, and said, \"I have no news.\"\n\nIvan Ogareff's only reply was to give an order to one of his officers.\nThen the ranks of prisoners were brutally hurried up by the soldiers.\nThe unfortunate people, driven on with whips, or pushed on with lances,\narranged themselves round the camp. A strong guard of soldiers drawn up\nbehind, rendered escape impossible.\n\nSilence then ensued, and, on a sign from Ivan Ogareff, Sangarre advanced\ntowards the group, in the midst of which stood Marfa.\n\nThe old Siberian saw her, and knew what was going to happen. A scornful\nsmile passed over her face. Then leaning towards Nadia, she said in a\nlow tone, \"You know me no longer, my daughter. Whatever may happen, and\nhowever hard this trial may be, not a word, not a sign. It concerns him,\nand not me.\"\n\nAt that moment Sangarre, having regarded her for an instant, put her\nhand on her shoulder.\n\n\"What do you want with me?\" said Marfa.\n\n\"Come!\" replied Sangarre, and pushing the old Siberian before her, she\ntook her to Ivan Ogareff, in the middle of the cleared ground. Michael\ncast down his eyes that their angry flashings might not appear.\n\nMarfa, standing before Ivan Ogareff, drew herself up, crossed her arms\non her breast, and waited.\n\n\"You are Marfa Strogoff?\" asked Ogareff.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the old Siberian calmly.\n\n\"Do you retract what you said to me when, three days ago, I interrogated\nyou at Omsk?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Then you do not know that your son, Michael Strogoff, courier of the\nCzar, has passed through Omsk?\"\n\n\"I do not know it.\"\n\n\"And the man in whom you thought you recognized your son, was not he\nyour son?\"\n\n\"He was not my son.\"\n\n\"And since then you have not seen him amongst the prisoners?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"If he were pointed out, would you recognize him?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nOn this reply, which showed such determined resolution, a murmur was\nheard amongst the crowd.\n\nOgareff could not restrain a threatening gesture.\n\n\"Listen,\" said he to Marfa, \"your son is here, and you shall immediately\npoint him out to me.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"All these men, taken at Omsk and Kolyvan, will defile before you; and\nif you do not show me Michael Strogoff, you shall receive as many blows\nof the knout as men shall have passed before you.\"\n\nIvan Ogareff saw that, whatever might be his threats, whatever might be\nthe tortures to which he submitted her, the indomitable Siberian would\nnot speak. To discover the courier of the Czar, he counted, then, not on\nher, but on Michael himself. He did not believe it possible that, when\nmother and son were in each other's presence, some involuntary movement\nwould not betray him. Of course, had he wished to seize the imperial\nletter, he would simply have given orders to search all the prisoners;\nbut Michael might have destroyed the letter, having learnt its contents;\nand if he were not recognized, if he were to reach Irkutsk, all Ivan\nOgareff's plans would be baffled. It was thus not only the letter which\nthe traitor must have, but the bearer himself.\n\nNadia had heard all, and she now knew who was Michael Strogoff, and why\nhe had wished to cross, without being recognized, the invaded provinces\nof Siberia.\n\nOn an order from Ivan Ogareff the prisoners defiled, one by one, past\nMarfa, who remained immovable as a statue, and whose face expressed only\nperfect indifference.\n\nHer son was among the last. When in his turn he passed before his\nmother, Nadia shut her eyes that she might not see him. Michael was to\nall appearance unmoved, but the palm of his hand bled under his nails,\nwhich were pressed into them.\n\nIvan Ogareff was baffled by mother and son.\n\nSangarre, close to him, said one word, \"The knout!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" cried Ogareff, who could no longer restrain himself; \"the knout\nfor this wretched old woman--the knout to the death!\"\n\nA Tartar soldier bearing this terrible instrument of torture approached\nMarfa. The knout is composed of a certain number of leathern thongs,\nat the end of which are attached pieces of twisted iron wire. It is\nreckoned that a sentence to one hundred and twenty blows of this whip is\nequivalent to a sentence of death.\n\nMarfa knew it, but she knew also that no torture would make her speak.\nShe was sacrificing her life.\n\nMarfa, seized by two soldiers, was forced on her knees on the ground.\nHer dress torn off left her back bare. A saber was placed before her\nbreast, at a few inches' distance only. Directly she bent beneath her\nsuffering, her breast would be pierced by the sharp steel.\n\nThe Tartar drew himself up. He waited. \"Begin!\" said Ogareff. The whip\nwhistled in the air.\n\nBut before it fell a powerful hand stopped the Tartar's arm. Michael was\nthere. He had leapt forward at this horrible scene. If at the relay at\nIchim he had restrained himself when Ogareff's whip had struck him, here\nbefore his mother, who was about to be struck, he could not do so. Ivan\nOgareff had succeeded.\n\n\"Michael Strogoff!\" cried he. Then advancing, \"Ah, the man of Ichim?\"\n\n\"Himself!\" said Michael. And raising the knout he struck Ogareff a sharp\nblow across the face. \"Blow for blow!\" said he.\n\n\"Well repaid!\" cried a voice concealed by the tumult.\n\nTwenty soldiers threw themselves on Michael, and in another instant he\nwould have been slain.\n\nBut Ogareff, who on being struck had uttered a cry of rage and pain,\nstopped them. \"This man is reserved for the Emir's judgment,\" said he.\n\"Search him!\"\n\nThe letter with the imperial arms was found in Michael's bosom; he had\nnot had time to destroy it; it was handed to Ogareff.\n\nThe voice which had pronounced the words, \"Well repaid!\" was that of\nno other than Alcide Jolivet. \"Par-dieu!\" said he to Blount, \"they are\nrough, these people. Acknowledge that we owe our traveling companion\na good turn. Korpanoff or Strogoff is worthy of it. Oh, that was fine\nretaliation for the little affair at Ichim.\"\n\n\"Yes, retaliation truly,\" replied Blount; \"but Strogoff is a dead man.\nI suspect that, for his own interest at all events, it would have\nbeen better had he not possessed quite so lively a recollection of the\nevent.\"\n\n\"And let his mother perish under the knout?\"\n\n\"Do you think that either she or his sister will be a bit better off\nfrom this outbreak of his?\"\n\n\"I do not know or think anything except that I should have done much\nthe same in his position,\" replied Alcide. \"What a scar the Colonel has\nreceived! Bah! one must boil over sometimes. We should have had water in\nour veins instead of blood had it been incumbent on us to be always and\neverywhere unmoved to wrath.\"\n\n\"A neat little incident for our journals,\" observed Blount, \"if only\nIvan Ogareff would let us know the contents of that letter.\"\n\nIvan Ogareff, when he had stanched the blood which was trickling\ndown his face, had broken the seal. He read and re-read the letter\ndeliberately, as if he was determined to discover everything it\ncontained.\n\nThen having ordered that Michael, carefully bound and guarded, should\nbe carried on to Tomsk with the other prisoners, he took command of\nthe troops at Zabediero, and, amid the deafening noise of drums and\ntrumpets, he marched towards the town where the Emir awaited him.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY\n\nTOMSK, founded in 1604, nearly in the heart of the Siberian provinces,\nis one of the most important towns in Asiatic Russia. Tobolsk, situated\nabove the sixtieth parallel; Irkutsk, built beyond the hundredth\nmeridian--have seen Tomsk increase at their expense.\n\nAnd yet Tomsk, as has been said, is not the capital of this important\nprovince. It is at Omsk that the Governor-General of the province and\nthe official world reside. But Tomsk is the most considerable town of\nthat territory. The country being rich, the town is so likewise, for\nit is in the center of fruitful mines. In the luxury of its houses, its\narrangements, and its equipages, it might rival the greatest European\ncapitals. It is a city of millionaires, enriched by the spade and\npickax, and though it has not the honor of being the residence of the\nCzar's representative, it can boast of including in the first rank\nof its notables the chief of the merchants of the town, the principal\ngrantees of the imperial government's mines.\n\nBut the millionaires were fled now, and except for the crouching poor,\nthe town stood empty to the hordes of Feofar-Khan. At four o'clock the\nEmir made his entry into the square, greeted by a flourish of trumpets,\nthe rolling sound of the big drums, salvoes of artillery and musketry.\n\nFeofar mounted his favorite horse, which carried on its head an aigrette\nof diamonds. The Emir still wore his uniform. He was accompanied by\na numerous staff, and beside him walked the Khans of Khokhand and\nKoundouge and the grand dignitaries of the Khanats.\n\nAt the same moment appeared on the terrace the chief of Feofar's wives,\nthe queen, if this title may be given to the sultana of the states\nof Bokhara. But, queen or slave, this woman of Persian origin was\nwonderfully beautiful. Contrary to the Mahometan custom, and no doubt by\nsome caprice of the Emir, she had her face uncovered. Her hair, divided\ninto four plaits, fell over her dazzling white shoulders, scarcely\nconcealed by a veil of silk worked in gold, which fell from the back\nof a cap studded with gems of the highest value. Under her blue-silk\npetticoat, fell the \"zirdjameh\" of silken gauze, and above the sash\nlay the \"pirahn.\" But from the head to the little feet, such was the\nprofusion of jewels--gold beads strung on silver threads, chaplets of\nturquoises, \"firouzehs\" from the celebrated mines of Elbourz, necklaces\nof cornelians, agates, emeralds, opals, and sapphires--that her dress\nseemed to be literally made of precious stones. The thousands of\ndiamonds which sparkled on her neck, arms, hands, at her waist, and at\nher feet might have been valued at almost countless millions of roubles.\n\nThe Emir and the Khans dismounted, as did the dignitaries who escorted\nthem. All entered a magnificent tent erected on the center of the first\nterrace. Before the tent, as usual, the Koran was laid.\n\nFeofar's lieutenant did not make them wait, and before five o'clock the\ntrumpets announced his arrival. Ivan Ogareff--the Scarred Cheek, as\nhe was already nick-named--wearing the uniform of a Tartar officer,\ndismounted before the Emir's tent. He was accompanied by a party of\nsoldiers from the camp at Zabediero, who ranged up at the sides of the\nsquare, in the middle of which a place for the sports was reserved. A\nlarge scar could be distinctly seen cut obliquely across the traitor's\nface.\n\nOgareff presented his principal officers to the Emir, who, without\ndeparting from the coldness which composed the main part of his dignity,\nreceived them in a way which satisfied them that they stood well in the\ngood graces of their chief.\n\nAt least so thought Harry Blount and Alcide Jolivet, the two\ninseparables, now associated together in the chase after news. After\nleaving Zabediero, they had proceeded rapidly to Tomsk. The plan they\nhad agreed upon was to leave the Tartars as soon as possible, and to\njoin a Russian regiment, and, if they could, to go with them to Irkutsk.\nAll that they had seen of the invasion, its burnings, its pillages, its\nmurders, had perfectly sickened them, and they longed to be among the\nranks of the Siberian army. Jolivet had told his companion that he could\nnot leave Tomsk without making a sketch of the triumphal entry of the\nTartar troops, if it was only to satisfy his cousin's curiosity; but the\nsame evening they both intended to take the road to Irkutsk, and being\nwell mounted hoped to distance the Emir's scouts.\n\nAlcide and Blount mingled therefore in the crowd, so as to lose no\ndetail of a festival which ought to supply them with a hundred good\nlines for an article. They admired the magnificence of Feofar-Khan, his\nwives, his officers, his guards, and all the Eastern pomp, of which the\nceremonies of Europe can give not the least idea. But they turned away\nwith disgust when Ivan Ogareff presented himself before the Emir, and\nwaited with some impatience for the amusements to begin.\n\n\"You see, my dear Blount,\" said Alcide, \"we have come too soon, like\nhonest citizens who like to get their money's worth. All this is before\nthe curtain rises, it would have been better to arrive only for the\nballet.\"\n\n\"What ballet?\" asked Blount.\n\n\"The compulsory ballet, to be sure. But see, the curtain is going to\nrise.\" Alcide Jolivet spoke as if he had been at the Opera, and taking\nhis glass from its case, he prepared, with the air of a connoisseur, \"to\nexamine the first act of Feofar's company.\"\n\nA painful ceremony was to precede the sports. In fact, the triumph of\nthe vanquisher could not be complete without the public humiliation of\nthe vanquished. This was why several hundreds of prisoners were brought\nunder the soldiers' whips. They were destined to march past Feofar-Khan\nand his allies before being crammed with their companions into the\nprisons in the town.\n\nIn the first ranks of these prisoners figured Michael Strogoff. As\nOgareff had ordered, he was specially guarded by a file of soldiers. His\nmother and Nadia were there also.\n\nThe old Siberian, although energetic enough when her own safety was in\nquestion, was frightfully pale. She expected some terrible scene. It was\nnot without reason that her son had been brought before the Emir. She\ntherefore trembled for him. Ivan Ogareff was not a man to forgive\nhaving been struck in public by the knout, and his vengeance would\nbe merciless. Some frightful punishment familiar to the barbarians\nof Central Asia would, no doubt, be inflicted on Michael Ogareff had\nprotected him against the soldiers because he well knew what would\nhappen by reserving him for the justice of the Emir.\n\nThe mother and son had not been able to speak together since the\nterrible scene in the camp at Zabediero. They had been pitilessly kept\napart--a bitter aggravation of their misery, for it would have been some\nconsolation to have been together during these days of captivity. Marfa\nlonged to ask her son's pardon for the harm she had unintentionally done\nhim, for she reproached herself with not having commanded her maternal\nfeelings. If she had restrained herself in that post-house at Omsk,\nwhen she found herself face to face with him, Michael would have passed\nunrecognized, and all these misfortunes would have been avoided.\n\nMichael, on his side, thought that if his mother was there, if Ogareff\nhad brought her with him, it was to make her suffer with the sight of\nhis own punishment, or perhaps some frightful death was reserved for her\nalso.\n\nAs to Nadia, she only asked herself how she could save them both, how\ncome to the aid of son and mother. As yet she could only wonder, but\nshe felt instinctively that she must above everything avoid drawing\nattention upon herself, that she must conceal herself, make herself\ninsignificant. Perhaps she might at least gnaw through the meshes which\nimprisoned the lion. At any rate if any opportunity was given her she\nwould seize upon it, and sacrifice herself, if need be, for the son of\nMarfa Strogoff.\n\nIn the meantime the greater part of the prisoners were passing before\nthe Emir, and as they passed each was obliged to prostrate himself,\nwith his forehead in the dust, in token of servitude. Slavery begins by\nhumiliation. When the unfortunate people were too slow in bending, the\nrough guards threw them violently to the ground.\n\nAlcide Jolivet and his companion could not witness such a sight without\nfeeling indignant.\n\n\"It is cowardly--let us go,\" said Alcide.\n\n\"No,\" answered Blount; \"we must see it all.\"\n\n\"See it all!--ah!\" cried Alcide, suddenly, grasping his companion's arm.\n\n\"What is the matter with you?\" asked the latter.\n\n\"Look, Blount; it is she!\"\n\n\"What she?\"\n\n\"The sister of our traveling companion--alone, and a prisoner! We must\nsave her.\"\n\n\"Calm yourself,\" replied Blount coolly. \"Any interference on our part in\nbehalf of the young girl would be worse than useless.\"\n\nAlcide Jolivet, who had been about to rush forward, stopped, and\nNadia--who had not perceived them, her features being half hidden by\nher hair--passed in her turn before the Emir without attracting his\nattention.\n\nHowever, after Nadia came Marfa Strogoff; and as she did not throw\nherself quickly in the dust, the guards brutally pushed her. She fell.\n\nHer son struggled so violently that the soldiers who were guarding him\ncould scarcely hold him back. But the old woman rose, and they were\nabout to drag her on, when Ogareff interposed, saying, \"Let that woman\nstay!\"\n\nAs to Nadia, she happily regained the crowd of prisoners. Ivan Ogareff\nhad taken no notice of her.\n\nMichael was then led before the Emir, and there he remained standing,\nwithout casting down his eyes.\n\n\"Your forehead to the ground!\" cried Ogareff.\n\n\"No!\" answered Michael.\n\nTwo soldiers endeavored to make him bend, but they were themselves laid\non the ground by a buffet from the young man's fist.\n\nOgareff approached Michael. \"You shall die!\" he said.\n\n\"I can die,\" answered Michael fiercely; \"but your traitor's face, Ivan,\nwill not the less carry forever the infamous brand of the knout.\"\n\nAt this reply Ivan Ogareff became perfectly livid.\n\n\"Who is this prisoner?\" asked the Emir, in a tone of voice terrible from\nits very calmness.\n\n\"A Russian spy,\" answered Ogareff. In asserting that Michael was a spy\nhe knew that the sentence pronounced against him would be terrible.\n\nThe Emir made a sign at which all the crowd bent low their heads. Then\nhe pointed with his hand to the Koran, which was brought him. He opened\nthe sacred book and placed his finger on one of its pages.\n\nIt was chance, or rather, according to the ideas of these Orientals, God\nHimself who was about to decide the fate of Michael Strogoff. The people\nof Central Asia give the name of \"fal\" to this practice. After having\ninterpreted the sense of the verse touched by the judge's finger, they\napply the sentence whatever it may be.\n\nThe Emir had let his finger rest on the page of the Koran. The chief of\nthe Ulemas then approached, and read in a loud voice a verse which ended\nwith these words, \"And he will no more see the things of this earth.\"\n\n\"Russian spy!\" exclaimed Feofar-Kahn in a voice trembling with fury,\n\"you have come to see what is going on in the Tartar camp. Then look\nwhile you may.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V \"LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!\"\n\nMICHAEL was held before the Emir's throne, at the foot of the terrace,\nhis hands bound behind his back. His mother overcome at last by mental\nand physical torture, had sunk to the ground, daring neither to look nor\nlisten.\n\n\"Look while you may,\" exclaimed Feofar-Kahn, stretching his arm towards\nMichael in a threatening manner. Doubtless Ivan Ogareff, being well\nacquainted with Tartar customs, had taken in the full meaning of these\nwords, for his lips curled for an instant in a cruel smile; he then took\nhis place by Feofar-Khan.\n\nA trumpet call was heard. This was the signal for the amusements to\nbegin. \"Here comes the ballet,\" said Alcide to Blount; \"but, contrary to\nour customs, these barbarians give it before the drama.\"\n\nMichael had been commanded to look at everything. He looked. A troop\nof dancers poured into the open space before the Emir's tent. Different\nTartar instruments, the \"doutare,\" a long-handled guitar, the \"kobize,\"\na kind of violoncello, the \"tschibyzga,\" a long reed flute; wind\ninstruments, tom-toms, tambourines, united with the deep voices of the\nsingers, formed a strange harmony. Added to this were the strains of an\naerial orchestra, composed of a dozen kites, which, fastened by strings\nto their centers, resounded in the breeze like AEolian harps.\n\nThen the dancers began. The performers were all of Persian origin;\nthey were no longer slaves, but exercised their profession at liberty.\nFormerly they figured officially in the ceremonies at the court of\nTeheran, but since the accession of the reigning family, banished or\ntreated with contempt, they had been compelled to seek their fortune\nelsewhere. They wore the national costume, and were adorned with a\nprofusion of jewels. Little triangles of gold, studded with jewels,\nglittered in their ears. Circles of silver, marked with black,\nsurrounded their necks and legs.\n\nThese performers gracefully executed various dances, sometimes alone,\nsometimes in groups. Their faces were uncovered, but from time to time\nthey threw a light veil over their heads, and a gauze cloud passed over\ntheir bright eyes as smoke over a starry sky. Some of these Persians\nwore leathern belts embroidered with pearls, from which hung little\ntriangular bags. From these bags, embroidered with golden filigree, they\ndrew long narrow bands of scarlet silk, on which were braided verses\nof the Koran. These bands, which they held between them, formed a belt\nunder which the other dancers darted; and, as they passed each verse,\nfollowing the precept it contained, they either prostrated themselves\non the earth or lightly bounded upwards, as though to take a place among\nthe houris of Mohammed's heaven.\n\nBut what was remarkable, and what struck Alcide, was that the Persians\nappeared rather indolent than fiery. Their passion had deserted them,\nand, by the kind of dances as well as by their execution, they recalled\nrather the calm and self-possessed nauch girls of India than the\nimpassioned dancers of Egypt.\n\nWhen this was over, a stern voice was heard saying:\n\n\"Look while you may!\"\n\nThe man who repeated the Emir's words--a tall spare Tartar--was he who\ncarried out the sentences of Feofar-Khan against offenders. He had taken\nhis place behind Michael, holding in his hand a broad curved saber, one\nof those Damascene blades which are forged by the celebrated armorers of\nKarschi or Hissar.\n\nBehind him guards were carrying a tripod supporting a chafing-dish\nfilled with live coals. No smoke arose from this, but a light vapor\nsurrounded it, due to the incineration of a certain aromatic and\nresinous substance which he had thrown on the surface.\n\nThe Persians were succeeded by another party of dancers, whom Michael\nrecognized. The journalists also appeared to recognize them, for Blount\nsaid to his companion, \"These are the Tsiganes of Nijni-Novgorod.\"\n\n\"No doubt of it,\" cried Alcide. \"Their eyes, I imagine, bring more money\nto these spies than their legs.\"\n\nIn putting them down as agents in the Emir's service, Alcide Jolivet\nwas, by all accounts, not mistaken.\n\nIn the first rank of the Tsiganes, Sangarre appeared, superb in her\nstrange and picturesque costume, which set off still further her\nremarkable beauty.\n\nSangarre did not dance, but she stood as a statue in the midst of the\nperformers, whose style of dancing was a combination of that of all\nthose countries through which their race had passed--Turkey, Bohemia,\nEgypt, Italy, and Spain. They were enlivened by the sound of cymbals,\nwhich clashed on their arms, and by the hollow sounds of the \"daires\"--a\nsort of tambourine played with the fingers.\n\nSangarre, holding one of those daires, which she played between her\nhands, encouraged this troupe of veritable corybantes. A young Tsigane,\nof about fifteen years of age, then advanced. He held in his hand a\n\"doutare,\" strings of which he made to vibrate by a simple movement of\nthe nails. He sung. During the singing of each couplet, of very peculiar\nrhythm, a dancer took her position by him and remained there immovable,\nlistening to him, but each time that the burden came from the lips of\nthe young singer, she resumed her dance, dinning in his ears with her\ndaire, and deafening him with the clashing of her cymbals. Then, after\nthe last chorus, the remainder surrounded the Tsigane in the windings of\ntheir dance.\n\nAt that moment a shower of gold fell from the hands of the Emir and his\ntrain, and from the hands of his officers of all ranks; to the noise\nwhich the pieces made as they struck the cymbals of the dancers, being\nadded the last murmurs of the doutares and tambourines.\n\n\"Lavish as robbers,\" said Alcide in the ear of his companion. And in\nfact it was the result of plunder which was falling; for, with the\nTartar tomans and sequins, rained also Russian ducats and roubles.\n\nThen silence followed for an instant, and the voice of the executioner,\nwho laid his hand on Michael's shoulder, once more pronounced the words,\nwhich this repetition rendered more and more sinister:\n\n\"Look while you may\"\n\nBut this time Alcide observed that the executioner no longer held the\nsaber bare in his hand.\n\nMeanwhile the sun had sunk behind the horizon. A semi-obscurity began\nto envelop the plain. The mass of cedars and pines became blacker and\nblacker, and the waters of the Tom, totally obscured in the distance,\nmingled with the approaching shadows.\n\nBut at that instant several hundreds of slaves, bearing lighted torches,\nentered the square. Led by Sangarre, Tsiganes and Persians reappeared\nbefore the Emir's throne, and showed off, by the contrast, their dances\nof styles so different. The instruments of the Tartar orchestra sounded\nforth in harmony still more savage, accompanied by the guttural cries of\nthe singers. The kites, which had fallen to the ground, once more winged\ntheir way into the sky, each bearing a parti-colored lantern, and under\na fresher breeze their harps vibrated with intenser sound in the midst\nof the aerial illumination.\n\nThen a squadron of Tartars, in their brilliant uniforms, mingled in\nthe dances, whose wild fury was increasing rapidly, and then began a\nperformance which produced a very strange effect. Soldiers came on the\nground, armed with bare sabers and long pistols, and, as they executed\ndances, they made the air re-echo with the sudden detonations of their\nfirearms, which immediately set going the rumbling of the tambourines,\nand grumblings of the daires, and the gnashing of doutares.\n\nTheir arms, covered with a colored powder of some metallic ingredient,\nafter the Chinese fashion, threw long jets--red, green, and blue--so\nthat the groups of dancers seemed to be in the midst of fireworks.\nIn some respects, this performance recalled the military dance of\nthe ancients, in the midst of naked swords; but this Tartar dance\nwas rendered yet more fantastic by the colored fire, which wound,\nserpent-like, above the dancers, whose dresses seemed to be embroidered\nwith fiery hems. It was like a kaleidoscope of sparks, whose infinite\ncombinations varied at each movement of the dancers.\n\nThough it may be thought that a Parisian reporter would be perfectly\nhardened to any scenic effect, which our modern ideas have carried so\nfar, yet Alcide Jolivet could not restrain a slight movement of the\nhead, which at home, between the Boulevard Montmartre and La Madeleine\nwould have said--\"Very fair, very fair.\"\n\nThen, suddenly, at a signal, all the lights of the fantasia were\nextinguished, the dances ceased, and the performers disappeared. The\nceremony was over, and the torches alone lighted up the plateau, which a\nfew instants before had been so brilliantly illuminated.\n\nOn a sign from the Emir, Michael was led into the middle of the square.\n\n\"Blount,\" said Alcide to his companion, \"are you going to see the end of\nall this?\"\n\n\"No, that I am not,\" replied Blount.\n\n\"The readers of the Daily Telegraph are, I hope, not very eager for the\ndetails of an execution a la mode Tartare?\"\n\n\"No more than your cousin!\"\n\n\"Poor fellow!\" added Alcide, as he watched Michael. \"That valiant\nsoldier should have fallen on the field of battle!\"\n\n\"Can we do nothing to save him?\" said Blount.\n\n\"Nothing!\"\n\nThe reporters recalled Michael's generous conduct towards them; they\nknew now through what trials he must have passed, ever obedient to his\nduty; and in the midst of these Tartars, to whom pity is unknown, they\ncould do nothing for him. Having little desire to be present at the\ntorture reserved for the unfortunate man, they returned to the town.\nAn hour later, they were on the road to Irkutsk, for it was among\nthe Russians that they intended to follow what Alcide called, by\nanticipation, \"the campaign of revenge.\"\n\nMeantime, Michael was standing ready, his eyes returning the Emir's\nhaughty glance, while his countenance assumed an expression of intense\nscorn whenever he cast his looks on Ivan Ogareff. He was prepared to\ndie, yet not a single sign of weakness escaped him.\n\nThe spectators, waiting around the square, as well as Feofar-Khan's\nbody-guard, to whom this execution was only one of the attractions, were\neagerly expecting it. Then, their curiosity satisfied, they would rush\noff to enjoy the pleasures of intoxication.\n\nThe Emir made a sign. Michael was thrust forward by his guards to the\nfoot of the terrace, and Feofar said to him, \"You came to see our goings\nout and comings in, Russian spy. You have seen for the last time. In an\ninstant your eyes will be forever shut to the day.\"\n\nMichael's fate was to be not death, but blindness; loss of sight, more\nterrible perhaps than loss of life. The unhappy man was condemned to be\nblinded.\n\nHowever, on hearing the Emir's sentence Michael's heart did not grow\nfaint. He remained unmoved, his eyes wide open, as though he wished\nto concentrate his whole life into one last look. To entreat pity from\nthese savage men would be useless, besides, it would be unworthy of him.\nHe did not even think of it. His thoughts were condensed on his mission,\nwhich had apparently so completely failed; on his mother, on Nadia, whom\nhe should never more see! But he let no sign appear of the emotion he\nfelt. Then, a feeling of vengeance to be accomplished came over him.\n\"Ivan,\" said he, in a stern voice, \"Ivan the Traitor, the last menace of\nmy eyes shall be for you!\"\n\nIvan Ogareff shrugged his shoulders.\n\nBut Michael was not to be looking at Ivan when his eyes were put out.\nMarfa Strogoff stood before him.\n\n\"My mother!\" cried he. \"Yes! yes! my last glance shall be for you, and\nnot for this wretch! Stay there, before me! Now I see once more your\nwell-beloved face! Now shall my eyes close as they rest upon it...!\"\n\nThe old woman, without uttering a word, advanced.\n\n\"Take that woman away!\" said Ivan.\n\nTwo soldiers were about to seize her, but she stepped back and remained\nstanding a few paces from Michael.\n\nThe executioner appeared. This time, he held his saber bare in his hand,\nand this saber he had just drawn from the chafing-dish, where he had\nbrought it to a white heat. Michael was going to be blinded in the\nTartar fashion, with a hot blade passed before his eyes!\n\nMichael did not attempt to resist. Nothing existed before his eyes but\nhis mother, whom his eyes seemed to devour. All his life was in that\nlast look.\n\nMarfa Strogoff, her eyes open wide, her arms extended towards where he\nstood, was gazing at him. The incandescent blade passed before Michael's\neyes.\n\nA despairing cry was heard. His aged mother fell senseless to the\nground. Michael Strogoff was blind.\n\nHis orders executed, the Emir retired with his train. There remained\nin the square only Ivan Ogareff and the torch bearers. Did the wretch\nintend to insult his victim yet further, and yet to give him a parting\nblow?\n\nIvan Ogareff slowly approached Michael, who, feeling him coming, drew\nhimself up. Ivan drew from his pocket the Imperial letter, he opened it,\nand with supreme irony he held it up before the sightless eyes of the\nCzar's courier, saying, \"Read, now, Michael Strogoff, read, and go and\nrepeat at Irkutsk what you have read. The true Courier of the Czar is\nIvan Ogareff.\"\n\nThis said, the traitor thrust the letter into his breast. Then, without\nlooking round he left the square, followed by the torch-bearers.\n\nMichael was left alone, at a few paces from his mother, lying lifeless,\nperhaps dead. He heard in the distance cries and songs, the varied\nnoises of a wild debauch. Tomsk, illuminated, glittered and gleamed.\n\nMichael listened. The square was silent and deserted. He went, groping\nhis way, towards the place where his mother had fallen. He found her\nwith his hand, he bent over her, he put his face close to hers, he\nlistened for the beating of her heart. Then he murmured a few words.\n\nDid Marfa still live, and did she hear her son's words? Whether she\ndid so or not, she made not the slightest movement. Michael kissed her\nforehead and her white locks. He then raised himself, and, groping with\nhis foot, trying to stretch out his hand to guide himself, he walked by\ndegrees to the edge of the square.\n\nSuddenly Nadia appeared. She walked straight to her companion. A knife\nin her hand cut the cords which bound Michael's arms. The blind man knew\nnot who had freed him, for Nadia had not spoken a word.\n\nBut this done: \"Brother!\" said she.\n\n\"Nadia!\" murmured Michael, \"Nadia!\"\n\n\"Come, brother,\" replied Nadia, \"use my eyes whilst yours sleep. I will\nlead you to Irkutsk.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI A FRIEND ON THE HIGHWAY\n\nHALF an hour afterwards, Michael and Nadia had left Tomsk.\n\nMany others of the prisoners were that night able to escape from the\nTartars, for officers and soldiers, all more or less intoxicated,\nhad unconsciously relaxed the vigilant guard which they had hitherto\nmaintained. Nadia, after having been carried off with the other\nprisoners, had been able to escape and return to the square, at the\nmoment when Michael was led before the Emir. There, mingling with the\ncrowd, she had witnessed the terrible scene. Not a cry escaped her when\nthe scorching blade passed before her companion's eyes. She kept, by her\nstrength of will, mute and motionless. A providential inspiration bade\nher restrain herself and retain her liberty that she might lead Marfa's\nson to that goal which he had sworn to reach. Her heart for an instant\nceased to beat when the aged Siberian woman fell senseless to the\nground, but one thought restored her to her former energy. \"I will be\nthe blind man's dog,\" said she.\n\nOn Ogareff's departure, Nadia had concealed herself in the shade. She\nhad waited till the crowd left the square. Michael, abandoned as a\nwretched being from whom nothing was to be feared, was alone. She saw\nhim draw himself towards his mother, bend over her, kiss her forehead,\nthen rise and grope his way in flight.\n\nA few instants later, she and he, hand in hand, had descended the steep\nslope, when, after having followed the high banks of the Tom to the\nfurthest extremity of the town, they happily found a breach in the\ninclosure.\n\nThe road to Irkutsk was the only one which penetrated towards the east.\nIt could not be mistaken. It was possible that on the morrow, after some\nhours of carousal, the scouts of the Emir, once more scattering over\nthe steppes, might cut off all communication. It was of the greatest\nimportance therefore to get in advance of them. How could Nadia bear the\nfatigues of that night, from the 16th to the 17th of August? How\ncould she have found strength for so long a stage? How could her feet,\nbleeding under that forced march, have carried her thither? It is almost\nincomprehensible. But it is none the less true that on the next morning,\ntwelve hours after their departure from Tomsk, Michael and she reached\nthe town of Semilowskoe, after a journey of thirty-five miles.\n\nMichael had not uttered a single word. It was not Nadia who held his\nhand, it was he who held that of his companion during the whole of that\nnight; but, thanks to that trembling little hand which guided him, he\nhad walked at his ordinary pace.\n\nSemilowskoe was almost entirely abandoned. The inhabitants had fled.\nNot more than two or three houses were still occupied. All that the town\ncontained, useful or precious, had been carried off in wagons. However,\nNadia was obliged to make a halt of a few hours. They both required food\nand rest.\n\nThe young girl led her companion to the extremity of the town. There\nthey found an empty house, the door wide open. An old rickety wooden\nbench stood in the middle of the room, near the high stove which is to\nbe found in all Siberian houses. They silently seated themselves.\n\nNadia gazed in her companion's face as she had never before gazed. There\nwas more than gratitude, more than pity, in that look. Could Michael\nhave seen her, he would have read in that sweet desolate gaze a world of\ndevotion and tenderness.\n\nThe eyelids of the blind man, made red by the heated blade, fell half\nover his eyes. The pupils seemed to be singularly enlarged. The rich\nblue of the iris was darker than formerly. The eyelashes and eyebrows\nwere partly burnt, but in appearance, at least, the old penetrating look\nappeared to have undergone no change. If he could no longer see, if his\nblindness was complete, it was because the sensibility of the retina and\noptic nerve was radically destroyed by the fierce heat of the steel.\n\nThen Michael stretched out his hands.\n\n\"Are you there, Nadia?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the young girl; \"I am close to you, and I will not go\naway from you, Michael.\"\n\nAt his name, pronounced by Nadia for the first time, a thrill passed\nthrough Michael's frame. He perceived that his companion knew all, who\nhe was.\n\n\"Nadia,\" replied he, \"we must separate!\"\n\n\"We separate? How so, Michael?\"\n\n\"I must not be an obstacle to your journey! Your father is waiting for\nyou at Irkutsk! You must rejoin your father!\"\n\n\"My father would curse me, Michael, were I to abandon you now, after all\nyou have done for me!\"\n\n\"Nadia, Nadia,\" replied Michael, \"you should think only of your father!\"\n\n\"Michael,\" replied Nadia, \"you have more need of me than my father. Do\nyou mean to give up going to Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"Never!\" cried Michael, in a tone which plainly showed that none of his\nenergy was gone.\n\n\"But you have not the letter!\"\n\n\"That letter of which Ivan Ogareff robbed me! Well! I shall manage\nwithout it, Nadia! They have treated me as a spy! I will act as a spy! I\nwill go and repeat at Irkutsk all I have seen, all I have heard; I swear\nit by Heaven above! The traitor shall meet me one day face to face! But\nI must arrive at Irkutsk before him.\"\n\n\"And yet you speak of our separating, Michael?\"\n\n\"Nadia, they have taken everything from me!\"\n\n\"I have some roubles still, and my eyes! I can see for you, Michael; and\nI will lead you thither, where you could not go alone!\"\n\n\"And how shall we go?\"\n\n\"On foot.\"\n\n\"And how shall we live?\"\n\n\"By begging.\"\n\n\"Let us start, Nadia.\"\n\n\"Come, Michael.\"\n\nThe two young people no longer kept the names \"brother\" and \"sister.\"\nIn their common misfortune, they felt still closer united. They left\nthe house after an hour's repose. Nadia had procured in the town some\nmorsels of \"tchornekhleb,\" a sort of barley bread, and a little mead,\ncalled \"meod\" in Russia. This had cost her nothing, for she had already\nbegun her plan of begging. The bread and mead had in some degree\nappeased Michael's hunger and thirst. Nadia gave him the lion's share\nof this scanty meal. He ate the pieces of bread his companion gave him,\ndrank from the gourd she held to his lips.\n\n\"Are you eating, Nadia?\" he asked several times.\n\n\"Yes, Michael,\" invariably replied the young girl, who contented herself\nwith what her companion left.\n\nMichael and Nadia quitted Semilowskoe, and once more set out on the\nlaborious road to Irkutsk. The girl bore up in a marvelous way against\nfatigue. Had Michael seen her, perhaps he would not have had the courage\nto go on. But Nadia never complained, and Michael, hearing no sigh,\nwalked at a speed he was unable to repress. And why? Did he still expect\nto keep before the Tartars? He was on foot, without money; he was blind,\nand if Nadia, his only guide, were to be separated from him, he could\nonly lie down by the side of the road and there perish miserably.\nBut if, on the other hand, by energetic perseverance he could reach\nKrasnoiarsk, all was perhaps not lost, since the governor, to whom he\nwould make himself known, would not hesitate to give him the means of\nreaching Irkutsk.\n\nMichael walked on, speaking little, absorbed in his own thoughts. He\nheld Nadia's hand. The two were in incessant communication. It seemed\nto them that they had no need of words to exchange their thoughts. From\ntime to time Michael said, \"Speak to me, Nadia.\"\n\n\"Why should I, Michael? We are thinking together!\" the young girl\nwould reply, and contrived that her voice should not betray her extreme\nfatigue.\n\nBut sometimes, as if her heart had ceased to beat for an instant, her\nlimbs tottered, her steps flagged, her arms fell to her sides, she\ndropped behind. Michael then stopped, he fixed his eyes on the poor\ngirl, as though he would try to pierce the gloom which surrounded him;\nhis breast heaved; then, supporting his companion more than before, he\nstarted on afresh.\n\nHowever, amidst these continual miseries, a fortunate circumstance on\nthat day occurred which it appeared likely would considerably ease\ntheir fatigue. They had been walking from Semilowskoe for two hours when\nMichael stopped.\n\n\"Is there no one on the road?\"\n\n\"Not a single soul,\" replied Nadia.\n\n\"Do you not hear some noise behind us? If they are Tartars we must hide.\nKeep a good look-out!\"\n\n\"Wait, Michael!\" replied Nadia, going back a few steps to where the road\nturned to the right.\n\nMichael Strogoff waited alone for a minute, listening attentively.\n\nNadia returned almost immediately and said, \"It is a cart. A young man\nis leading it.\"\n\n\"Is he alone?\"\n\n\"Alone.\"\n\nMichael hesitated an instant. Should he hide? or should he, on the\ncontrary, try to find a place in the vehicle, if not for himself, at\nleast for her? For himself, he would be quite content to lay one hand\non the cart, to push it if necessary, for his legs showed no sign of\nfailing him; but he felt sure that Nadia, compelled to walk ever since\nthey crossed the Obi, that is, for eight days, must be almost exhausted.\nHe waited.\n\nThe cart was soon at the corner of the road. It was a very dilapidated\nvehicle, known in the country as a kibitka, just capable of holding\nthree persons. Usually the kibitka is drawn by three horses, but this\nhad but one, a beast with long hair and a very long tail. It was of the\nMongol breed, known for strength and courage.\n\nA young man was leading it, with a dog beside him. Nadia saw at once\nthat the young man was Russian; his face was phlegmatic, but pleasant,\nand at once inspired confidence. He did not appear to be in the\nslightest hurry; he was not walking fast that he might spare his\nhorse, and, to look at him, it would not have been believed that he was\nfollowing a road which might at any instant be swarming with Tartars.\n\nNadia, holding Michael by the hand, made way for the vehicle. The\nkibitka stopped, and the driver smilingly looked at the young girl.\n\n\"And where are you going to in this fashion?\" he asked, opening wide his\ngreat honest eyes.\n\nAt the sound of his voice, Michael said to himself that he had heard it\nbefore. And it was satisfactory to him to recognize the man for his brow\nat once cleared.\n\n\"Well, where are you going?\" repeated the young man, addressing himself\nmore directly to Michael.\n\n\"We are going to Irkutsk,\" he replied.\n\n\"Oh! little father, you do not know that there are still versts and\nversts between you and Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"I know it.\"\n\n\"And you are going on foot?\"\n\n\"On foot.\"\n\n\"You, well! but the young lady?\"\n\n\"She is my sister,\" said Michael, who judged it prudent to give again\nthis name to Nadia.\n\n\"Yes, your sister, little father! But, believe me, she will never be\nable to get to Irkutsk!\"\n\n\"Friend,\" returned Michael, approaching him, \"the Tartars have robbed\nus of everything, and I have not a copeck to offer you; but if you will\ntake my sister with you, I will follow your cart on foot; I will run\nwhen necessary, I will not delay you an hour!\"\n\n\"Brother,\" exclaimed Nadia, \"I will not! I will not! Sir, my brother is\nblind!\"\n\n\"Blind!\" repeated the young man, much moved.\n\n\"The Tartars have burnt out his eyes!\" replied Nadia, extending her\nhands, as if imploring pity.\n\n\"Burnt out his eyes! Oh! poor little father! I am going to Krasnoiarsk.\nWell, why should not you and your sister mount in the kibitka? By\nsitting a little close, it will hold us all three. Besides, my dog will\nnot refuse to go on foot; only I don't go fast, I spare my horse.\"\n\n\"Friend, what is your name?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"My name is Nicholas Pigassof.\"\n\n\"It is a name that I will never forget,\" said Michael.\n\n\"Well, jump up, little blind father. Your sister will be beside you, in\nthe bottom of the cart; I sit in front to drive. There is plenty of good\nbirch bark and straw in the bottom; it's like a nest. Serko, make room!\"\n\nThe dog jumped down without more telling. He was an animal of the\nSiberian race, gray hair, of medium size, with an honest big head,\njust made to pat, and he, moreover, appeared to be much attached to his\nmaster.\n\nIn a moment more, Michael and Nadia were seated in the kibitka. Michael\nheld out his hands as if to feel for those of Pigassof. \"You wish to\nshake my hands!\" said Nicholas. \"There they are, little father! shake\nthem as long as it will give you any pleasure.\"\n\nThe kibitka moved on; the horse, which Nicholas never touched with the\nwhip, ambled along. Though Michael did not gain any in speed, at least\nsome fatigue was spared to Nadia.\n\nSuch was the exhaustion of the young girl, that, rocked by the\nmonotonous movement of the kibitka, she soon fell into a sleep, its\nsoundness proving her complete prostration. Michael and Nicholas laid\nher on the straw as comfortably as possible. The compassionate young man\nwas greatly moved, and if a tear did not escape from Michael's eyes, it\nwas because the red-hot iron had dried up the last!\n\n\"She is very pretty,\" said Nicholas.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"They try to be strong, little father, they are brave, but they are weak\nafter all, these dear little things! Have you come from far.\"\n\n\"Very far.\"\n\n\"Poor young people! It must have hurt you very much when they burnt your\neyes!\"\n\n\"Very much,\" answered Michael, turning towards Nicholas as if he could\nsee him.\n\n\"Did you not weep?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I should have wept too. To think that one could never again see\nthose one loves. But they can see you, however; that's perhaps some\nconsolation!\"\n\n\"Yes, perhaps. Tell me, my friend,\" continued Michael, \"have you never\nseen me anywhere before?\"\n\n\"You, little father? No, never.\"\n\n\"The sound of your voice is not unknown to me.\"\n\n\"Why!\" returned Nicholas, smiling, \"he knows the sound of my voice!\nPerhaps you ask me that to find out where I come from. I come from\nKolyvan.\"\n\n\"From Kolyvan?\" repeated Michael. \"Then it was there I met you; you were\nin the telegraph office?\"\n\n\"That may be,\" replied Nicholas. \"I was stationed there. I was the clerk\nin charge of the messages.\"\n\n\"And you stayed at your post up to the last moment?\"\n\n\"Why, it's at that moment one ought to be there!\"\n\n\"It was the day when an Englishman and a Frenchman were disputing,\nroubles in hand, for the place at your wicket, and the Englishman\ntelegraphed some poetry.\"\n\n\"That is possible, but I do not remember it.\"\n\n\"What! you do not remember it?\"\n\n\"I never read the dispatches I send. My duty being to forget them, the\nshortest way is not to know them.\"\n\nThis reply showed Nicholas Pigassof's character. In the meanwhile the\nkibitka pursued its way, at a pace which Michael longed to render\nmore rapid. But Nicholas and his horse were accustomed to a pace which\nneither of them would like to alter. The horse went for two hours and\nrested one--so on, day and night. During the halts the horse grazed,\nthe travelers ate in company with the faithful Serko. The kibitka was\nprovisioned for at least twenty persons, and Nicholas generously placed\nhis supplies at the disposal of his two guests, whom he believed to be\nbrother and sister.\n\nAfter a day's rest, Nadia recovered some strength. Nicholas took the\nbest possible care of her. The journey was being made under tolerable\ncircumstances, slowly certainly, but surely. It sometimes happened that\nduring the night, Nicholas, although driving, fell asleep, and snored\nwith a clearness which showed the calmness of his conscience. Perhaps\nthen, by looking close, Michael's hand might have been seen feeling\nfor the reins, and giving the horse a more rapid pace, to the great\nastonishment of Serko, who, however, said nothing. The trot was\nexchanged for the amble as soon as Nicholas awoke, but the kibitka had\nnot the less gained some versts.\n\nThus they passed the river Ichirnsk, the villages of Ichisnokoe,\nBerikylokoe, Kuskoe, the river Marunsk, the village of the same name,\nBogostowskoe, and, lastly, the Ichoula, a little stream which divides\nWestern from Eastern Siberia. The road now lay sometimes across wide\nmoors, which extended as far as the eye could reach, sometimes through\nthick forests of firs, of which they thought they should never get to\nthe end. Everywhere was a desert; the villages were almost entirely\nabandoned. The peasants had fled beyond the Yenisei, hoping that this\nwide river would perhaps stop the Tartars.\n\nOn the 22d of August, the kibitka entered the town of Atchinsk, two\nhundred and fifty miles from Tomsk. Eighty miles still lay between them\nand Krasnoiarsk.\n\nNo incident had marked the journey. For the six days during which they\nhad been together, Nicholas, Michael, and Nadia had remained the same,\nthe one in his unchange-able calm, the other two, uneasy, and thinking\nof the time when their companion would leave them.\n\nMichael saw the country through which they traveled with the eyes of\nNicholas and the young girl. In turns, they each described to him the\nscenes they passed. He knew whether he was in a forest or on a plain,\nwhether a hut was on the steppe, or whether any Siberian was in sight.\nNicholas was never silent, he loved to talk, and, from his peculiar way\nof viewing things, his friends were amused by his conversation. One day,\nMichael asked him what sort of weather it was.\n\n\"Fine enough, little father,\" he answered, \"but soon we shall feel the\nfirst winter frosts. Perhaps the Tartars will go into winter quarters\nduring the bad season.\"\n\nMichael Strogoff shook his head with a doubtful air.\n\n\"You do not think so, little father?\" resumed Nicholas. \"You think that\nthey will march on to Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"I fear so,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"Yes... you are right; they have with them a bad man, who will not let\nthem loiter on the way. You have heard speak of Ivan Ogareff?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You know that it is not right to betray one's country!\"\n\n\"No... it is not right...\" answered Michael, who wished to remain\nunmoved.\n\n\"Little father,\" continued Nicholas, \"it seems to me that you are not\nhalf indignant enough when Ivan Ogareff is spoken of. Your Russian heart\nought to leap when his name is uttered.\"\n\n\"Believe me, my friend, I hate him more than you can ever hate him,\"\nsaid Michael.\n\n\"It is not possible,\" replied Nicholas; \"no, it is not possible! When\nI think of Ivan Ogareff, of the harm which he is doing to our sacred\nRussia, I get into such a rage that if I could get hold of him--\"\n\n\"If you could get hold of him, friend?\"\n\n\"I think I should kill him.\"\n\n\"And I, I am sure of it,\" returned Michael quietly.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI\n\nAT nightfall, on the 25th of August, the kibitka came in sight of\nKrasnoiarsk. The journey from Tomsk had taken eight days. If it had not\nbeen accomplished as rapidly as it might, it was because Nicholas had\nslept little. Consequently, it was impossible to increase his horse's\npace, though in other hands, the journey would not have taken sixty\nhours.\n\nHappily, there was no longer any fear of Tartars. Not a scout had\nappeared on the road over which the kibitka had just traveled. This\nwas strange enough, and evidently some serious cause had prevented the\nEmir's troops from marching without delay upon Irkutsk. Something had\noccurred. A new Russian corps, hastily raised in the government of\nYeniseisk, had marched to Tomsk to endeavor to retake the town. But,\nbeing too weak to withstand the Emir's troops, now concentrated there,\nthey had been forced to effect a retreat. Feofar-Khan, including his own\nsoldiers, and those of the Khanats of Khokhand and Koun-douze, had\nnow under his command two hundred and fifty thousand men, to which\nthe Russian government could not as yet oppose a sufficient force. The\ninvasion could not, therefore, be immediately stopped, and the whole\nTartar army might at once march upon Irkutsk. The battle of Tomsk was on\nthe 22nd of August, though this Michael did not know, but it explained\nwhy the vanguard of the Emir's army had not appeared at Krasnoiarsk by\nthe 25th.\n\nHowever, though Michael Strogoff could not know the events which had\noccurred since his departure, he at least knew that he was several days\nin advance of the Tartars, and that he need not despair of reaching\nbefore them the town of Irkutsk, still six hundred miles distant.\n\nBesides, at Krasnoiarsk, of which the population is about twelve\nthousand souls, he depended upon obtaining some means of transport.\nSince Nicholas Pigassof was to stop in that town, it would be necessary\nto replace him by a guide, and to change the kibitka for another more\nrapid vehicle. Michael, after having addressed himself to the governor\nof the town, and established his identity and quality as Courier of the\nCzar--which would be easy--doubted not that he would be enabled to\nget to Irkutsk in the shortest possible time. He would thank the good\nNicholas Pigassof, and set out immediately with Nadia, for he did not\nwish to leave her until he had placed her in her father's arms. Though\nNicholas had resolved to stop at Krasnoiarsk, it was only as he said,\n\"on condition of finding employment there.\" In fact, this model clerk,\nafter having stayed to the last minute at his post in Kolyvan, was\nendeavoring to place himself again at the disposal of the government.\n\"Why should I receive a salary which I have not earned?\" he would say.\n\nIn the event of his services not being required at Krasnoiarsk, which it\nwas expected would be still in telegraphic communication with Irkutsk,\nhe proposed to go to Oudinsk, or even to the capital of Siberia itself.\nIn the latter case, he would continue to travel with the brother and\nsister; and where would they find a surer guide, or a more devoted\nfriend?\n\nThe kibitka was now only half a verst from Krasnoiarsk. The numerous\nwooden crosses which are erected at the approaches to the town, could be\nseen to the right and left of the road. It was seven in the evening; the\noutline of the churches and of the houses built on the high bank of the\nYenisei were clearly defined against the evening sky, and the waters of\nthe river reflected them in the twilight.\n\n\"Where are we, sister?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"Half a verst from the first houses,\" replied Nadia.\n\n\"Can the town be asleep?\" observed Michael. \"Not a sound strikes my\near.\"\n\n\"And I cannot see the slightest light, nor even smoke mounting into the\nair,\" added Nadia.\n\n\"What a queer town!\" said Nicholas. \"They make no noise in it, and go to\nbed uncommonly early!\"\n\nA presentiment of impending misfortune passed across Michael's heart. He\nhad not said to Nadia that he had placed all his hopes on Krasnoiarsk,\nwhere he expected to find the means of safely finishing his journey. He\nmuch feared that his anticipations would again be disappointed.\n\nBut Nadia had guessed his thoughts, although she could not understand\nwhy her companion should be so anxious to reach Irkutsk, now that the\nImperial letter was gone. She one day said something of the sort to him.\n\"I have sworn to go to Irkutsk,\" he replied.\n\nBut to accomplish his mission, it was necessary that at Krasnoiarsk he\nshould find some more rapid mode of locomotion. \"Well, friend,\" said he\nto Nicholas, \"why are we not going on?\"\n\n\"Because I am afraid of waking up the inhabitants of the town with the\nnoise of my carriage!\" And with a light fleck of the whip, Nicholas put\nhis horse in motion.\n\nTen minutes after they entered the High Street. Krasnoiarsk was\ndeserted; there was no longer an Athenian in this \"Northern Athens,\" as\nMadame de Bourboulon has called it. Not one of their dashing equipages\nswept through the wide, clean streets. Not a pedestrian enlivened the\nfootpaths raised at the bases of the magnificent wooden houses, of\nmonumental aspect! Not a Siberian belle, dressed in the last French\nfashion, promenaded the beautiful park, cleared in a forest of birch\ntrees, which stretches away to the banks of the Yenisei! The great bell\nof the cathedral was dumb; the chimes of the churches were silent. Here\nwas complete desolation. There was no longer a living being in this\ntown, lately so lively!\n\nThe last telegram sent from the Czar's cabinet, before the rupture\nof the wire, had ordered the governor, the garrison, the inhabitants,\nwhoever they might be, to leave Krasnoiarsk, to carry with them any\narticles of value, or which might be of use to the Tartars, and to take\nrefuge at Irkutsk. The same injunction was given to all the villages of\nthe province. It was the intention of the Muscovite government to lay\nthe country desert before the invaders. No one thought for an instant of\ndisputing these orders. They were executed, and this was the reason why\nnot a single human being remained in Krasnoiarsk.\n\nMichael Strogoff, Nadia, and Nicholas passed silently through the\nstreets of the town. They felt half-stupefied. They themselves made the\nonly sound to be heard in this dead city. Michael allowed nothing of\nwhat he felt to appear, but he inwardly raged against the bad luck which\npursued him, his hopes being again disappointed.\n\n\"Alack, alack!\" cried Nicholas, \"I shall never get any employment in\nthis desert!\"\n\n\"Friend,\" said Nadia, \"you must go on with us.\"\n\n\"I must indeed!\" replied Nicholas. \"The wire is no doubt still working\nbetween Oudinsk and Irkutsk, and there--Shall we start, little father?\"\n\n\"Let us wait till to-morrow,\" answered Michael.\n\n\"You are right,\" said Nicholas. \"We have the Yenisei to cross, and need\nlight to see our way there!\"\n\n\"To see!\" murmured Nadia, thinking of her blind companion.\n\nNicholas heard her, and turning to Michael, \"Forgive me, little father,\"\nsaid he. \"Alas! night and day, it is true, are all the same to you!\"\n\n\"Do not reproach yourself, friend,\" replied Michael, pressing his hand\nover his eyes. \"With you for a guide I can still act. Take a few hours'\nrepose. Nadia must rest too. To-morrow we will recommence our journey!\"\n\nMichael and his friends had not to search long for a place of rest. The\nfirst house, the door of which they pushed open, was empty, as well as\nall the others. Nothing could be found within but a few heaps of leaves.\nFor want of better fodder the horse had to content himself with\nthis scanty nourishment. The provisions of the kibitka were not yet\nexhausted, so each had a share. Then, after having knelt before a small\npicture of the Panaghia, hung on the wall, and still lighted up by a\nflickering lamp, Nicholas and the young girl slept, whilst Michael, over\nwhom sleep had no influence, watched.\n\nBefore daybreak the next morning, the 26th of August, the horse was\ndrawing the kibitka through the forests of birch trees towards the banks\nof the Yenisei. Michael was in much anxiety. How was he to cross the\nriver, if, as was probable, all boats had been destroyed to retard the\nTartars' march? He knew the Yenisei, its width was considerable, its\ncurrents strong. Ordinarily by means of boats specially built for the\nconveyance of travelers, carriages, and horses, the passage of the\nYenisei takes about three hours, and then it is with extreme difficulty\nthat the boats reach the opposite bank. Now, in the absence of any\nferry, how was the kibitka to get from one bank to the other?\n\nDay was breaking when the kibitka reached the left bank, where one of\nthe wide alleys of the park ended. They were about a hundred feet above\nthe Yenisei, and could therefore survey the whole of its wide course.\n\n\"Do you see a boat?\" asked Michael, casting his eyes eagerly about from\none side to the other, mechanically, no doubt, as if he could really\nsee.\n\n\"It is scarcely light yet, brother,\" replied Nadia. \"The fog is still\nthick, and we cannot see the water.\"\n\n\"But I hear it roaring,\" said Michael.\n\nIndeed, from the fog issued a dull roaring sound. The waters being high\nrushed down with tumultuous violence. All three waited until the misty\ncurtain should rise. The sun would not be long in dispersing the vapors.\n\n\"Well?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"The fog is beginning to roll away, brother,\" replied Nadia, \"and it\nwill soon be clear.\"\n\n\"Then you do not see the surface of the water yet?\"\n\n\"Not yet.\"\n\n\"Have patience, little father,\" said Nicholas. \"All this will soon\ndisappear. Look! here comes the breeze! It is driving away the fog.\nThe trees on the opposite hills are already appearing. It is sweeping,\nflying away. The kindly rays of the sun have condensed all that mass of\nmist. Ah! how beautiful it is, my poor fellow, and how unfortunate that\nyou cannot see such a lovely sight!\"\n\n\"Do you see a boat?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"I see nothing of the sort,\" answered Nicholas.\n\n\"Look well, friend, on this and the opposite bank, as far as your eye\ncan reach. A raft, even a canoe?\"\n\nNicholas and Nadia, grasping the bushes on the edge of the cliff, bent\nover the water. The view they thus obtained was extensive. At this place\nthe Yenisei is not less than a mile in width, and forms two arms, of\nunequal size, through which the waters flow swiftly. Between these arms\nlie several islands, covered with alders, willows, and poplars, looking\nlike verdant ships, anchored in the river. Beyond rise the high hills of\nthe Eastern shore, crowned with forests, whose tops were then empurpled\nwith light. The Yenisei stretched on either side as far as the eye could\nreach. The beautiful panorama lay before them for a distance of fifty\nversts.\n\nBut not a boat was to be seen. All had been taken away or destroyed,\naccording to order. Unless the Tartars should bring with them materials\nfor building a bridge of boats, their march towards Irkutsk would\ncertainly be stopped for some time by this barrier, the Yenisei.\n\n\"I remember,\" said Michael, \"that higher up, on the outskirts of\nKrasnoiarsk, there is a little quay. There the boats touch. Friend, let\nus go up the river, and see if some boat has not been forgotten on the\nbank.\"\n\nNadia seized Michael's hand and started off at a rapid pace in the\ndirection indicated. If only a boat or a barge large enough to hold the\nkibitka could be found, or even one that would carry just themselves,\nMichael would not hesitate to attempt the passage! Twenty minutes after,\nall three had reached the little quay, with houses on each side quite\ndown to the water's edge. It was like a village standing beyond the town\nof Krasnoiarsk.\n\nBut not a boat was on the shore, not a barge at the little wharf,\nnothing even of which a raft could be made large enough to carry three\npeople. Michael questioned Nicholas, who made the discouraging reply\nthat the crossing appeared to him absolutely impracticable.\n\n\"We shall cross!\" answered Michael.\n\nThe search was continued. They examined the houses on the shore,\nabandoned like all the rest of Krasnoiarsk. They had merely to push open\nthe doors and enter. The cottages were evidently those of poor people,\nand quite empty. Nicholas visited one, Nadia entered another, and even\nMichael went here and there and felt about, hoping to light upon some\narticle that might be useful.\n\nNicholas and the girl had each fruitlessly rummaged these cottages and\nwere about to give up the search, when they heard themselves called.\nBoth ran to the bank and saw Michael standing on the threshold of a\ndoor.\n\n\"Come!\" he exclaimed. Nicholas and Nadia went towards him and followed\nhim into the cottage.\n\n\"What are these?\" asked Michael, touching several objects piled up in a\ncorner.\n\n\"They are leathern bottles,\" answered Nicholas.\n\n\"Are they full?\"\n\n\"Yes, full of koumyss. We have found them very opportunely to renew our\nprovisions!\"\n\n\"Koumyss\" is a drink made of mare's or camel's milk, and is very\nsustaining, and even intoxicating; so that Nicholas and his companions\ncould not but congratulate themselves on the discovery.\n\n\"Save one,\" said Michael, \"but empty the others.\"\n\n\"Directly, little father.\"\n\n\"These will help us to cross the Yenisei.\"\n\n\"And the raft?\"\n\n\"Will be the kibitka itself, which is light enough to float. Besides, we\nwill sustain it, as well as the horse, with these bottles.\"\n\n\"Well thought of, little father,\" exclaimed Nicholas, \"and by God's help\nwe will get safely over... though perhaps not in a straight line, for\nthe current is very rapid!\"\n\n\"What does that matter?\" replied Michael. \"Let us get across first,\nand we shall soon find out the road to Irkutsk on the other side of the\nriver.\"\n\n\"To work, then,\" said Nicholas, beginning to empty the bottles.\n\nOne full of koumyss was reserved, and the rest, with the air carefully\nfastened in, were used to form a floating apparatus. Two bottles were\nfastened to the horse's sides to support it in the water. Two others\nwere attached to the shafts to keep them on a level with the body of the\nmachine, thus transformed into a raft. This work was soon finished.\n\n\"You will not be afraid, Nadia?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"No, brother,\" answered the girl.\n\n\"And you, friend?\"\n\n\"I?\" cried Nicholas. \"I am now going to have one of my dreams\nrealized--that of sailing in a cart.\"\n\nAt the spot where they were now standing, the bank sloped, and was\nsuitable for the launching of the kibitka. The horse drew it into the\nwater, and they were soon both floating. As to Serko, he was swimming\nbravely.\n\nThe three passengers, seated in the vehicle, had with due precaution\ntaken off their shoes and stockings; but, thanks to the bottles, the\nwater did not even come over their ankles. Michael held the reins, and,\naccording to Nicholas's directions, guided the animal obliquely, but\ncautiously, so as not to exhaust him by struggling against the current.\nSo long as the kibitka went with the current all was easy, and in a few\nminutes it had passed the quays of Krasnoiarsk. It drifted northwards,\nand it was soon evident that it would only reach the opposite bank far\nbelow the town. But that mattered little. The crossing would have been\nmade without great difficulty, even on this imperfect apparatus, had\nthe current been regular; but, unfortunately, there were whirlpools in\nnumbers, and soon the kibitka, notwithstanding all Michael's efforts,\nwas irresistibly drawn into one of these.\n\nThere the danger was great. The kibitka no longer drifted, but spun\nrapidly round, inclining towards the center of the eddy, like a rider in\na circus. The horse could scarcely keep his head above water, and ran a\ngreat risk of being suffocated. Serko had been obliged to take refuge in\nthe carriage.\n\nMichael knew what was happening. He felt himself drawn round in a\ngradually narrowing line, from which they could not get free. How he\nlonged to see, to be better able to avoid this peril, but that was no\nlonger possible. Nadia was silent, her hands clinging to the sides\nof the cart, which was inclining more and more towards the center of\ndepression.\n\nAnd Nicholas, did he not understand the gravity of the situation? Was it\nwith him phlegm or contempt of danger, courage or indifference? Was his\nlife valueless in his eyes, and, according to the Eastern expression,\n\"an hotel for five days,\" which, whether one is willing or not, must be\nleft the sixth? At any rate, the smile on his rosy face never faded for\nan instant.\n\nThe kibitka was thus in the whirlpool, and the horse was nearly\nexhausted, when, all at once, Michael, throwing off such of his garments\nas might impede him, jumped into the water; then, seizing with a strong\nhand the bridle of the terrified horse, he gave him such an impulse that\nhe managed to struggle out of the circle, and getting again into the\ncurrent, the kibitka drifted along anew.\n\n\"Hurrah!\" exclaimed Nicholas.\n\nTwo hours after leaving the wharf, the kibitka had crossed the widest\narm of the river, and had landed on an island more than six versts below\nthe starting point.\n\nThere the horse drew the cart onto the bank, and an hour's rest was\ngiven to the courageous animal; then the island having been crossed\nunder the shade of its magnificent birches, the kibitka found itself on\nthe shore of the smaller arm of the Yenisei.\n\nThis passage was much easier; no whirlpools broke the course of the\nriver in this second bed; but the current was so rapid that the kibitka\nonly reached the opposite side five versts below. They had drifted\neleven versts in all.\n\nThese great Siberian rivers across which no bridges have as yet been\nthrown, are serious obstacles to the facility of communication. All had\nbeen more or less unfortunate to Michael Strogoff. On the Irtych, the\nboat which carried him and Nadia had been attacked by Tartars. On the\nObi, after his horse had been struck by a bullet, he had only by a\nmiracle escaped from the horsemen who were pursuing him. In fact, this\npassage of the Yenisei had been performed the least disastrously.\n\n\"That would not have been so amusing,\" exclaimed Nicholas, rubbing his\nhands, as they disembarked on the right bank of the river, \"if it had\nnot been so difficult.\"\n\n\"That which has only been difficult to us, friend,\" answered Michael\nStrogoff, \"will, perhaps, be impossible to the Tartars.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII A HARE CROSSES THE ROAD\n\nMICHAEL STROGOFF might at last hope that the road to Irkutsk was clear.\nHe had distanced the Tartars, now detained at Tomsk, and when the Emir's\nsoldiers should arrive at Krasnoiarsk they would find only a deserted\ntown. There being no communication between the two banks of the Yenisei,\na delay of some days would be caused until a bridge of boats could be\nestablished, and to accomplish this would be a difficult undertaking.\nFor the first time since the encounter with Ivan Ogareff at Omsk, the\ncourier of the Czar felt less uneasy, and began to hope that no fresh\nobstacle would delay his progress.\n\nThe road was good, for that part of it which extends between Krasnoiarsk\nand Irkutsk is considered the best in the whole journey; fewer jolts for\ntravelers, large trees to shade them from the heat of the sun, sometimes\nforests of pines or cedars covering an extent of a hundred versts.\nIt was no longer the wide steppe with limitless horizon; but the rich\ncountry was empty. Everywhere they came upon deserted villages. The\nSiberian peasantry had vanished. It was a desert, but a desert by order\nof the Czar.\n\nThe weather was fine, but the air, which cooled during the night, took\nsome time to get warm again. Indeed it was now near September, and in\nthis high region the days were sensibly shortening. Autumn here lasts\nbut a very little while, although this part of Siberian territory is\nnot situated above the fifty-fifth parallel, that of Edinburgh and\nCopenhagen. However, winter succeeds summer almost unexpectedly. These\nwinters of Asiatic Russia may be said to be precocious, considering that\nduring them the thermometer falls until the mercury is frozen nearly\n42 degrees below zero, and that 20 degrees below zero is considered an\nunsupportable temperature.\n\nThe weather favored our travelers. It was neither stormy nor rainy. The\nhealth of Nadia and Michael was good, and since leaving Tomsk they had\ngradually recovered from their past fatigues.\n\nAs to Nicholas Pigassof, he had never been better in his life. To him\nthis journey was a trip, an agreeable excursion in which he employed his\nenforced holiday.\n\n\"Decidedly,\" said he, \"this is pleasanter than sitting twelve hours a\nday, perched on a stool, working the manip-ulator!\"\n\n\nMichael had managed to get Nicholas to make his horse quicken his pace.\nTo obtain this result, he had confided to Nicholas that Nadia and he\nwere on their way to join their father, exiled at Irkutsk, and that they\nwere very anxious to get there. Certainly, it would not do to overwork\nthe horse, for very probably they would not be able to exchange him\nfor another; but by giving him frequent rests--every ten miles, for\ninstance--forty miles in twenty-four hours could easily be accomplished.\nBesides, the animal was strong, and of a race calculated to endure great\nfatigue. He was in no want of rich pasturage along the road, the grass\nbeing thick and abundant. Therefore, it was possible to demand an\nincrease of work from him.\n\nNicholas gave in to all these reasons. He was much moved at the\nsituation of these two young people, going to share their father's\nexile. Nothing had ever appeared so touching to him. With what a smile\nhe said to Nadia: \"Divine goodness! what joy will Mr. Korpanoff feel,\nwhen his eyes behold you, when his arms open to receive you! If I go to\nIrkutsk--and that appears very probable now--will you permit me to be\npresent at that interview! You will, will you not?\" Then, striking his\nforehead: \"But, I forgot, what grief too when he sees that his poor son\nis blind! Ah! everything is mingled in this world!\"\n\nHowever, the result of all this was the kibitka went faster, and,\naccording to Michael's calculations, now made almost eight miles an\nhour.\n\nAfter crossing the little river Biriousa, the kibitka reached\nBiriousensk on the morning of the 4th of September. There, very\nfortunately, for Nicholas saw that his provisions were becoming\nexhausted, he found in an oven a dozen \"pogatchas,\" a kind of cake\nprepared with sheep's fat and a large supply of plain boiled rice. This\nincrease was very opportune, for something would soon have been needed\nto replace the koumyss with which the kibitka had been stored at\nKrasnoiarsk.\n\nAfter a halt, the journey was continued in the afternoon. The distance\nto Irkutsk was not now much over three hundred miles. There was not\na sign of the Tartar vanguard. Michael Strogoff had some grounds for\nhoping that his journey would not be again delayed, and that in eight\ndays, or at most ten, he would be in the presence of the Grand Duke.\n\nOn leaving Biriousinsk, a hare ran across the road, in front of the\nkibitka. \"Ah!\" exclaimed Nicholas.\n\n\"What is the matter, friend?\" asked Michael quickly, like a blind man\nwhom the least sound arouses.\n\n\"Did you not see?\" said Nicholas, whose bright face had become suddenly\nclouded. Then he added, \"Ah! no! you could not see, and it's lucky for\nyou, little father!\"\n\n\"But I saw nothing,\" said Nadia.\n\n\"So much the better! So much the better! But I--I saw!\"\n\n\"What was it then?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"A hare crossing our road!\" answered Nicholas.\n\nIn Russia, when a hare crosses the path, the popular belief is that\nit is the sign of approaching evil. Nicholas, superstitious like the\ngreater number of Russians, stopped the kibitka.\n\nMichael understood his companion's hesitation, without sharing his\ncredulity, and endeavored to reassure him, \"There is nothing to fear,\nfriend,\" said he.\n\n\"Nothing for you, nor for her, I know, little father,\" answered\nNicholas, \"but for me!\"\n\n\"It is my fate,\" he continued. And he put his horse in motion again.\nHowever, in spite of these forebodings the day passed without any\naccident.\n\nAt twelve o'clock the next day, the 6th of September, the kibitka halted\nin the village of Alsalevok, which was as deserted as the surrounding\ncountry. There, on a doorstep, Nadia found two of those strong-bladed\nknives used by Siberian hunters. She gave one to Michael, who concealed\nit among his clothes, and kept the other herself.\n\nNicholas had not recovered his usual spirits. The ill-omen had affected\nhim more than could have been believed, and he who formerly was never\nhalf an hour without speaking, now fell into long reveries from which\nNadia found it difficult to arouse him. The kibitka rolled swiftly along\nthe road. Yes, swiftly! Nicholas no longer thought of being so careful\nof his horse, and was as anxious to arrive at his journey's end as\nMichael himself. Notwithstanding his fatalism, and though resigned, he\nwould not believe himself in safety until within the walls of Irkutsk.\nMany Russians would have thought as he did, and more than one would have\nturned his horse and gone back again, after a hare had crossed his path.\n\nSome observations made by him, the justice of which was proved by Nadia\ntransmitting them to Michael, made them fear that their trials were not\nyet over. Though the land from Krasnoiarsk had been respected in its\nnatural productions, its forests now bore trace of fire and steel; and\nit was evident that some large body of men had passed that way.\n\nTwenty miles before Nijni-Oudinsk, the indications of recent devastation\ncould not be mistaken, and it was impossible to attribute them to others\nthan the Tartars. It was not only that the fields were trampled by\nhorse's feet, and that trees were cut down. The few houses scattered\nalong the road were not only empty, some had been partly demolished,\nothers half burnt down. The marks of bullets could be seen on their\nwalls.\n\nMichael's anxiety may be imagined. He could no longer doubt that a party\nof Tartars had recently passed that way, and yet it was impossible\nthat they could be the Emir's soldiers, for they could not have passed\nwithout being seen. But then, who were these new invaders, and by what\nout-of-the-way path across the steppe had they been able to join the\nhighroad to Irkutsk? With what new enemies was the Czar's courier now to\nmeet?\n\nHe did not communicate his apprehensions either to Nicholas or Nadia,\nnot wishing to make them uneasy. Besides, he had resolved to continue\nhis way, as long as no insurmountable obstacle stopped him. Later, he\nwould see what it was best to do. During the ensuing day, the recent\npassage of a large body of foot and horse became more and more apparent.\nSmoke was seen above the horizon. The kibitka advanced cautiously.\nSeveral houses in deserted villages still burned, and could not have\nbeen set on fire more than four and twenty hours before.\n\nAt last, during the day, on the 8th of September, the kibitka stopped\nsuddenly. The horse refused to advance. Serko barked furiously.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"A corpse!\" replied Nicholas, who had leapt out of the kibitka. The body\nwas that of a moujik, horribly mutilated, and already cold. Nicholas\ncrossed himself. Then, aided by Michael, he carried the body to the side\nof the road. He would have liked to give it decent burial, that the\nwild beasts of the steppe might not feast on the miserable remains, but\nMichael could not allow him the time.\n\n\"Come, friend, come!\" he exclaimed, \"we must not delay, even for an\nhour!\" And the kibitka was driven on.\n\nBesides, if Nicholas had wished to render the last duties to all the\ndead bodies they were now to meet with on the Siberian highroad, he\nwould have had enough to do! As they approached Nijni-Oudinsk, they were\nfound by twenties, stretched on the ground.\n\nIt was, however, necessary to follow this road until it was manifestly\nimpossible to do so longer without falling into the hands of the\ninvaders. The road they were following could not be abandoned, and yet\nthe signs of devastation and ruin increased at every village they\npassed through. The blood of the victims was not yet dry. As to gaining\ninformation about what had occurred, that was impossible. There was not\na living being left to tell the tale.\n\nAbout four o'clock in the afternoon of this day, Nicholas caught sight\nof the tall steeples of the churches of Nijni-Oudinsk. Thick vapors,\nwhich could not have been clouds, were floating around them.\n\nNicholas and Nadia looked, and communicated the result of their\nobservations to Michael. They must make up their minds what to do. If\nthe town was abandoned, they could pass through without risk, but if, by\nsome inexplicable maneuver, the Tartars occupied it, they must at every\ncost avoid the place.\n\n\"Advance cautiously,\" said Michael Strogoff, \"but advance!\"\n\nA verst was soon traversed.\n\n\"Those are not clouds, that is smoke!\" exclaimed Nadia. \"Brother, they\nare burning the town!\"\n\nIt was, indeed, only too plain. Flashes of light appeared in the midst\nof the vapor. It became thicker and thicker as it mounted upwards. But\nwere they Tartars who had done this? They might be Russians, obeying the\norders of the Grand Duke. Had the government of the Czar determined that\nfrom Krasnoiarsk, from the Yenisei, not a town, not a village should\noffer a refuge to the Emir's soldiers? What was Michael to do?\n\nHe was undecided. However, having weighed the pros and cons, he thought\nthat whatever might be the difficulties of a journey across the steppe\nwithout a beaten path, he ought not to risk capture a second time by\nthe Tartars. He was just proposing to Nicholas to leave the road, when\na shot was heard on their right. A ball whistled, and the horse of the\nkibitka fell dead, shot through the head.\n\nA dozen horsemen dashed forward, and the kibitka was surrounded. Before\nthey knew where they were, Michael, Nadia, and Nicholas were prisoners,\nand were being dragged rapidly towards Nijni-Oudinsk.\n\nMichael, in this second attack, had lost none of his presence of\nmind. Being unable to see his enemies, he had not thought of defending\nhimself. Even had he possessed the use of his eyes, he would not have\nattempted it. The consequences would have been his death and that of his\ncompanions. But, though he could not see, he could listen and understand\nwhat was said.\n\nFrom their language he found that these soldiers were Tartars, and from\ntheir words, that they preceded the invading army.\n\nIn short, what Michael learnt from the talk at the present moment, as\nwell as from the scraps of conversation he overheard later, was this.\nThese men were not under the direct orders of the Emir, who was now\ndetained beyond the Yenisei. They made part of a third column chiefly\ncomposed of Tartars from the khanats of Khokland and Koondooz, with\nwhich Feofar's army was to affect a junction in the neighborhood of\nIrkutsk.\n\nBy Ogareff's advice, in order to assure the success of the invasion in\nthe Eastern provinces, this column had skirted the base of the Altai\nMountains. Pillaging and ravaging, it had reached the upper course of\nthe Yenisei. There, guessing what had been done at Krasnoiarsk by order\nof the Czar, and to facilitate the passage of the river to the Emir's\ntroops, this column had launched a flotilla of boats, which would enable\nFeofar to cross and resume the road to Irkutsk. Having done this, it had\ndescended the valley of the Yenisei and struck the road on a level with\nAlsalevsk. From this little town began the frightful course of ruin\nwhich forms the chief part of Tartar warfare. Nijni-Oudinsk had shared\nthe common fate, and the Tartars, to the number of fifty thousand, had\nnow quitted it to take up a position before Irkutsk. Before long, they\nwould be reinforced by the Emir's troops.\n\nSuch was the state of affairs at this date, most serious for this\nisolated part of Eastern Siberia, and for the comparatively few\ndefenders of its capital.\n\nIt can be imagined with what thoughts Michael's mind was now occupied!\nWho could have been astonished had he, in his present situation,\nlost all hope and all courage? Nothing of the sort, however; his lips\nmuttered no other words than these: \"I will get there!\"\n\nHalf an hour after the attack of the Tartar horsemen, Michael Strogoff,\nNadia, and Nicholas entered Nijni-Oudinsk. The faithful dog followed\nthem, though at a distance. They could not stay in the town, as it\nwas in flames, and about to be left by the last of the marauders. The\nprisoners were therefore thrown on horses and hurried away; Nicholas\nresigned as usual, Nadia, her faith in Michael unshaken, and Michael\nhimself, apparently indifferent, but ready to seize any opportunity of\nescaping.\n\nThe Tartars were not long in perceiving that one of their prisoners\nwas blind, and their natural barbarity led them to make game of their\nunfortunate victim. They were traveling fast. Michael's horse, having no\none to guide him, often started aside, and so made confusion among the\nranks. This drew on his rider such abuse and brutality as wrung Nadia's\nheart, and filled Nicholas with indignation. But what could they do?\nThey could not speak the Tartar language, and their assistance was\nmercilessly refused. Soon it occurred to these men, in a refinement\nof cruelty, to exchange the horse Michael was riding for one which was\nblind. The motive of the change was explained by a remark which Michael\noverheard, \"Perhaps that Russian can see, after all!\"\n\nMichael was placed on this horse, and the reins ironically put into\nhis hand. Then, by dint of lashing, throwing stones, and shouting,\nthe animal was urged into a gallop. The horse, not being guided by his\nrider, blind as himself, sometimes ran into a tree, sometimes went quite\noff the road--in consequence, collisions and falls, which might have\nbeen extremely dangerous.\n\nMichael did not complain. Not a murmur escaped him. When his horse fell,\nhe waited until it got up. It was, indeed, soon assisted up, and the\ncruel fun continued. At sight of this wicked treatment, Nicholas could\nnot contain himself; he endeavored to go to his friend's aid. He was\nprevented, and treated brutally.\n\nThis game would have been prolonged, to the Tartars' great amusement,\nhad not a serious accident put an end to it. On the 10th of September\nthe blind horse ran away, and made straight for a pit, some thirty or\nforty feet deep, at the side of the road.\n\nNicholas tried to go after him. He was held back. The horse, having no\nguide, fell with his rider to the bottom. Nicholas and Nadia uttered a\npiercing cry! They believed that their unfortunate companion had been\nkilled.\n\nHowever, when they went to his assistance, it was found that Michael,\nhaving been able to throw himself out of the saddle, was unhurt, but the\nmiserable horse had two legs broken, and was quite useless. He was\nleft there to die without being put out of his suffering, and Michael,\nfastened to a Tartar's saddle, was obliged to follow the detachment on\nfoot.\n\nEven now, not a protest, not a complaint! He marched with a rapid step,\nscarcely drawn by the cord which tied him. He was still \"the Man of\nIron,\" of whom General Kissoff had spoken to the Czar!\n\nThe next day, the 11th of September, the detachment passed through the\nvillage of Chibarlinskoe. Here an incident occurred which had serious\nconsequences. It was nightfall. The Tartar horsemen, having halted,\nwere more or less intoxicated. They were about to start. Nadia, who till\nthen, by a miracle, had been respectfully treated by the soldiers, was\ninsulted by one of them.\n\nMichael could not see the insult, nor the insulter, but Nicholas saw for\nhim. Then, quietly, without thinking, without perhaps knowing what\nhe was doing, Nicholas walked straight up to the man, and, before the\nlatter could make the least movement to stop him, had seized a pistol\nfrom his holster and discharged it full at his breast.\n\nThe officer in command of the detachment hastened up on hearing the\nreport. The soldiers would have cut the unfortunate Nicholas to pieces,\nbut at a sign from their officer, he was bound instead, placed across a\nhorse, and the detachment galloped off.\n\nThe rope which fastened Michael, gnawed through by him, broke by the\nsudden start of the horse, and the half-tipsy rider galloped on without\nperceiving that his prisoner had escaped.\n\nMichael and Nadia found themselves alone on the road.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX IN THE STEPPE\n\nMICHAEL STROGOFF and Nadia were once more as free as they had been in\nthe journey from Perm to the banks of the Irtych. But how the conditions\nunder which they traveled were altered! Then, a comfortable tarantass,\nfresh horses, well-kept post-horses assured the rapidity of their\njourney. Now they were on foot; it was utterly impossible to procure any\nother means of locomotion, they were without resources, not knowing how\nto obtain even food, and they had still nearly three hundred miles to\ngo! Moreover, Michael could now only see with Nadia's eyes.\n\nAs to the friend whom chance had given them, they had just lost him,\nand fearful might be his fate. Michael had thrown himself down under the\nbrushwood at the side of the road. Nadia stood beside him, waiting for\nthe word from him to continue the march.\n\nIt was ten o'clock. The sun had more than three hours before disappeared\nbelow the horizon. There was not a house in sight. The last of the\nTartars was lost in the distance. Michael and Nadia were quite alone.\n\n\"What will they do with our friend?\" exclaimed the girl. \"Poor Nicholas!\nOur meeting will have been fatal to him!\" Michael made no response.\n\n\"Michael,\" continued Nadia, \"do you not know that he defended you when\nyou were the Tartars' sport; that he risked his life for me?\"\n\nMichael was still silent. Motionless, his face buried in his hands;\nof what was he thinking? Perhaps, although he did not answer, he heard\nNadia speak.\n\nYes! he heard her, for when the young girl added, \"Where shall I lead\nyou, Michael?\"\n\n\"To Irkutsk!\" he replied.\n\n\"By the highroad?\"\n\n\"Yes, Nadia.\"\n\nMichael was still the same man who had sworn, whatever happened, to\naccomplish his object. To follow the highroad, was certainly to go the\nshortest way. If the vanguard of Feofar-Khan's troops appeared, it would\nthen be time to strike across the country.\n\nNadia took Michael's hand, and they started.\n\nThe next morning, the 13th of September, twenty versts further, they\nmade a short halt in the village of Joulounov-skoe. It was burnt and\ndeserted. All night Nadia had tried to see if the body of Nicholas had\nnot been left on the road, but it was in vain that she looked among\nthe ruins, and searched among the dead. Was he reserved for some cruel\ntorture at Irkutsk?\n\nNadia, exhausted with hunger, was fortunate enough to find in one of the\nhouses a quantity of dried meat and \"soukharis,\" pieces of bread,\nwhich, dried by evaporation, preserve their nutritive qualities for an\nindefinite time.\n\nMichael and the girl loaded themselves with as much as they could carry.\nThey had thus a supply of food for several days, and as to water, there\nwould be no want of that in a district rendered fertile by the numerous\nlittle affluents of the Angara.\n\nThey continued their journey. Michael walked with a firm step, and\nonly slackened his pace for his companion's sake. Nadia, not wishing to\nretard him, obliged herself to walk. Happily, he could not see to what a\nmiserable state fatigue had reduced her.\n\nHowever, Michael guessed it. \"You are quite done up, poor child,\" he\nsaid sometimes.\n\n\"No,\" she would reply.\n\n\"When you can no longer walk, I will carry you.\"\n\n\"Yes, Michael.\"\n\nDuring this day they came to the little river Oka, but it was fordable,\nand they had no difficulty in crossing. The sky was cloudy and the\ntemperature moderate. There was some fear that the rain might come on,\nwhich would much have increased their misery. A few showers fell, but\nthey did not last.\n\nThey went on as before, hand in hand, speaking little, Nadia looking\nabout on every side; twice a day they halted. Six hours of the night\nwere given to sleep. In a few huts Nadia again found a little mutton;\nbut, contrary to Michael's hopes, there was not a single beast of burden\nin the country; horses, camels--all had been either killed or carried\noff. They must still continue to plod on across this weary steppe on\nfoot.\n\nThe third Tartar column, on its way to Irkutsk, had left plain traces:\nhere a dead horse, there an abandoned cart. The bodies of unfortunate\nSiberians lay along the road, principally at the entrances to villages.\nNadia, overcoming her repugnance, looked at all these corpses!\n\nThe chief danger lay, not before, but behind. The advance guard of the\nEmir's army, commanded by Ivan Ogareff, might at any moment appear.\nThe boats sent down the lower Yenisei must by this time have reached\nKrasnoiarsk and been made use of. The road was therefore open to the\ninvaders. No Russian force could be opposed to them between Krasnoiarsk\nand Lake Baikal, Michael therefore expected before long the appearance\nof the Tartar scouts.\n\nAt each halt, Nadia climbed some hill and looked anxiously to the\nWestward, but as yet no cloud of dust had signaled the approach of a\ntroop of horse.\n\nThen the march was resumed; and when Michael felt that he was dragging\npoor Nadia forward too rapidly, he went at a slower pace. They spoke\nlittle, and only of Nicholas. The young girl recalled all that this\ncompanion of a few days had done for them.\n\nIn answering, Michael tried to give Nadia some hope of which he did not\nfeel a spark himself, for he well knew that the unfortunate fellow would\nnot escape death.\n\nOne day Michael said to the girl, \"You never speak to me of my mother,\nNadia.\"\n\nHis mother! Nadia had never wished to do so. Why renew his grief? Was\nnot the old Siberian dead? Had not her son given the last kiss to her\ncorpse stretched on the plain of Tomsk?\n\n\"Speak to me of her, Nadia,\" said Michael. \"Speak--you will please me.\"\n\nAnd then Nadia did what she had not done before. She told all that had\npassed between Marfa and herself since their meeting at Omsk, where they\nhad seen each other for the first time. She said how an inexplicable\ninstinct had led her towards the old prisoner without knowing who she\nwas, and what encouragement she had received in return. At that time\nMichael Strogoff had been to her but Nicholas Korpanoff.\n\n\"Whom I ought always to have been,\" replied Michael, his brow darkening.\n\nThen later he added, \"I have broken my oath, Nadia. I had sworn not to\nsee my mother!\"\n\n\"But you did not try to see her, Michael,\" replied Nadia. \"Chance alone\nbrought you into her presence.\"\n\n\"I had sworn, whatever might happen, not to betray myself.\"\n\n\"Michael, Michael! at sight of the lash raised upon Marfa, could you\nrefrain? No! No oath could prevent a son from succoring his mother!\"\n\n\"I have broken my oath, Nadia,\" returned Michael. \"May God and the\nFather pardon me!\"\n\n\"Michael,\" resumed the girl, \"I have a question to ask you. Do not\nanswer it if you think you ought not. Nothing from you would vex me!\"\n\n\"Speak, Nadia.\"\n\n\"Why, now that the Czar's letter has been taken from you, are you so\nanxious to reach Irkutsk?\"\n\nMichael tightly pressed his companion's hand, but he did not answer.\n\n\"Did you know the contents of that letter before you left Moscow?\"\n\n\"No, I did not know.\"\n\n\"Must I think, Michael, that the wish alone to place me in my father's\nhands draws you toward Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"No, Nadia,\" replied Michael, gravely. \"I should deceive you if I\nallowed you to believe that it was so. I go where duty orders me to go.\nAs to taking you to Irkutsk, is it not you, Nadia, who are now taking me\nthere? Do I not see with your eyes; and is it not your hand that guides\nme? Have you not repaid a hundred-fold the help which I was able to give\nyou at first? I do not know if fate will cease to go against us; but the\nday on which you thank me for having placed you in your father's hands,\nI in my turn will thank you for having led me to Irkutsk.\"\n\n\"Poor Michael!\" answered Nadia, with emotion. \"Do not speak so. That\ndoes not answer me. Michael, why, now, are you in such haste to reach\nIrkutsk?\"\n\n\"Because I must be there before Ivan Ogareff,\" exclaimed Michael.\n\n\"Even now?\"\n\n\"Even now, and I will be there, too!\"\n\nIn uttering these words, Michael did not speak solely through hatred to\nthe traitor. Nadia understood that her companion had not told, or could\nnot tell, her all.\n\nOn the 15th of September, three days later, the two reached the village\nof Kouitounskoe. The young girl suffered dreadfully. Her aching feet\ncould scarcely support her; but she fought, she struggled, against her\nweariness, and her only thought was this: \"Since he cannot see me, I\nwill go on till I drop.\"\n\nThere were no obstacles on this part of the journey, no danger either\nsince the departure of the Tartars, only much fatigue. For three days\nit continued thus. It was plain that the third invading column was\nadvancing rapidly in the East; that could be seen by the ruins which\nthey left after them--the cold cinders and the already decomposing\ncorpses.\n\nThere was nothing to be seen in the West; the Emir's advance-guard had\nnot yet appeared. Michael began to consider the various reasons which\nmight have caused this delay. Was a sufficient force of Russians\ndirectly menacing Tomsk or Krasnoiarsk? Did the third column, isolated\nfrom the others, run a risk of being cut off? If this was the case, it\nwould be easy for the Grand Duke to defend Irkutsk, and any time gained\nagainst an invasion was a step towards repulsing it. Michael\nsometimes let his thoughts run on these hopes, but he soon saw their\nimprobability, and felt that the preservation of the Grand Duke depended\nalone on him.\n\nNadia dragged herself along. Whatever might be her moral energy, her\nphysical strength would soon fail her. Michael knew it only too well. If\nhe had not been blind, Nadia would have said to him, \"Go, Michael, leave\nme in some hut! Reach Irkutsk! Accomplish your mission! See my father!\nTell him where I am! Tell him that I wait for him, and you both will\nknow where to find me! Start! I am not afraid! I will hide myself from\nthe Tartars! I will take care of myself for him, for you! Go, Michael! I\ncan go no farther!\"\n\nMany times Nadia was obliged to stop. Michael then took her in his\nstrong arms and, having no longer to think of her fatigue, walked more\nrapidly and with his indefatigable step.\n\nOn the 18th of September, at ten in the evening, Kimilteiskoe was at\nlast entered. From the top of a hill, Nadia saw in the horizon a\nlong light line. It was the Dinka River. A few lightning flashes were\nreflected in the water; summer lightning, without thunder. Nadia led her\ncompanion through the ruined village. The cinders were quite cold. The\nlast of the Tartars had passed through at least five or six days before.\n\nBeyond the village, Nadia sank down on a stone bench. \"Shall we make a\nhalt?\" asked Michael.\n\n\"It is night, Michael,\" answered Nadia. \"Do you not want to rest a few\nhours?\"\n\n\"I would rather have crossed the Dinka,\" replied Michael, \"I should\nlike to put that between us and the Emir's advance-guard. But you can\nscarcely drag yourself along, my poor Nadia!\"\n\n\"Come, Michael,\" returned Nadia, seizing her companion's hand and\ndrawing him forward.\n\nTwo or three versts further the Dinka flowed across the Irkutsk\nroad. The young girl wished to attempt this last effort asked by her\ncompanion. She found her way by the light from the flashes. They were\nthen crossing a boundless desert, in the midst of which was lost the\nlittle river. Not a tree nor a hillock broke the flatness. Not a breath\ndisturbed the atmosphere, whose calmness would allow the slightest sound\nto travel an immense distance.\n\nSuddenly, Michael and Nadia stopped, as if their feet had been fast to\nthe ground. The barking of a dog came across the steppe. \"Do you hear?\"\nsaid Nadia.\n\nThen a mournful cry succeeded it--a despairing cry, like the last appeal\nof a human being about to die.\n\n\"Nicholas! Nicholas!\" cried the girl, with a foreboding of evil.\nMichael, who was listening, shook his head.\n\n\"Come, Michael, come,\" said Nadia. And she who just now was dragging\nherself with difficulty along, suddenly recovered strength, under\nviolent excitement.\n\n\"We have left the road,\" said Michael, feeling that he was treading no\nlonger on powdery soil but on short grass.\n\n\"Yes, we must!\" returned Nadia. \"It was there, on the right, from which\nthe cry came!\"\n\nIn a few minutes they were not more than half a verst from the river.\nA second bark was heard, but, although more feeble, it was certainly\nnearer. Nadia stopped.\n\n\"Yes!\" said Michael. \"It is Serko barking!... He has followed his\nmaster!\"\n\n\"Nicholas!\" called the girl. Her cry was unanswered.\n\nMichael listened. Nadia gazed over the plain illumined now and again\nwith electric light, but she saw nothing. And yet a voice was again\nraised, this time murmuring in a plaintive tone, \"Michael!\"\n\nThen a dog, all bloody, bounded up to Nadia.\n\nIt was Serko! Nicholas could not be far off! He alone could have\nmurmured the name of Michael! Where was he? Nadia had no strength to\ncall again. Michael, crawling on the ground, felt about with his hands.\n\nSuddenly Serko uttered a fresh bark and darted towards a gigantic bird\nwhich had swooped down. It was a vulture. When Serko ran towards it, it\nrose, but returning struck at the dog. The latter leapt up at it. A blow\nfrom the formidable beak alighted on his head, and this time Serko fell\nback lifeless on the ground.\n\nAt the same moment a cry of horror escaped Nadia. \"There... there!\" she\nexclaimed.\n\nA head issued from the ground! She had stumbled against it in the\ndarkness.\n\nNadia fell on her knees beside it. Nicholas buried up to his neck,\naccording to the atrocious Tartar custom, had been left in the steppe to\ndie of thirst, and perhaps by the teeth of wolves or the beaks of birds\nof prey!\n\nFrightful torture for the victim imprisoned in the ground--the earth\npressed down so that he cannot move, his arms bound to his body like\nthose of a corpse in its coffin! The miserable wretch, living in the\nmold of clay from which he is powerless to break out, can only long for\nthe death which is so slow in coming!\n\nThere the Tartars had buried their prisoner three days before! For three\ndays, Nicholas waited for the help which now came too late! The vultures\nhad caught sight of the head on a level with the ground, and for some\nhours the dog had been defending his master against these ferocious\nbirds!\n\nMichael dug at the ground with his knife to release his friend! The eyes\nof Nicholas, which till then had been closed, opened.\n\nHe recognized Michael and Nadia. \"Farewell, my friends!\" he murmured. \"I\nam glad to have seen you again! Pray for me!\"\n\nMichael continued to dig, though the ground, having been tightly rammed\ndown, was as hard as stone, and he managed at last to get out the body\nof the unhappy man. He listened if his heart was still beating.... It\nwas still!\n\nHe wished to bury him, that he might not be left exposed; and the hole\ninto which Nicholas had been placed when living, was enlarged, so that\nhe might be laid in it--dead! The faithful Serko was laid by his master.\n\nAt that moment, a noise was heard on the road, about half a verst\ndistant. Michael Strogoff listened. It was evidently a detachment of\nhorse advancing towards the Dinka. \"Nadia, Nadia!\" he said in a low\nvoice.\n\nNadia, who was kneeling in prayer, arose. \"Look, look!\" said he.\n\n\"The Tartars!\" she whispered.\n\nIt was indeed the Emir's advance-guard, passing rapidly along the road\nto Irkutsk.\n\n\"They shall not prevent me from burying him!\" said Michael. And he\ncontinued his work.\n\nSoon, the body of Nicholas, the hands crossed on the breast, was laid in\nthe grave. Michael and Nadia, kneeling, prayed a last time for the poor\nfellow, inoffensive and good, who had paid for his devotion towards them\nwith his life.\n\n\"And now,\" said Michael, as he threw in the earth, \"the wolves of the\nsteppe will not devour him.\"\n\nThen he shook his fist at the troop of horsemen who were passing.\n\"Forward, Nadia!\" he said.\n\nMichael could not follow the road, now occupied by the Tartars. He must\ncross the steppe and turn to Irkutsk. He had not now to trouble himself\nabout crossing the Dinka. Nadia could not move, but she could see for\nhim. He took her in his arms and went on towards the southwest of the\nprovince.\n\nA hundred and forty miles still remained to be traversed. How was the\ndistance to be performed? Should they not succumb to such fatigue? On\nwhat were they to live on the way? By what superhuman energy were they\nto pass the slopes of the Sayansk Mountains? Neither he nor Nadia could\nanswer this!\n\nAnd yet, twelve days after, on the 2d of October, at six o'clock in the\nevening, a wide sheet of water lay at Michael Strogoff's feet. It was\nLake Baikal.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X BAIKAL AND ANGARA\n\nLAKE BAIKAL is situated seventeen hundred feet above the level of the\nsea. Its length is about six hundred miles, its breadth seventy. Its\ndepth is not known. Madame de Bourboulon states that, according to the\nboatmen, it likes to be spoken of as \"Madam Sea.\" If it is called \"Sir\nLake,\" it immediately lashes itself into fury. However, it is reported\nand believed by the Siberians that a Russian is never drowned in it.\n\nThis immense basin of fresh water, fed by more than three hundred\nrivers, is surrounded by magnificent volcanic mountains. It has no other\noutlet than the Angara, which after passing Irkutsk throws itself into\nthe Yenisei, a little above the town of Yeniseisk. As to the mountains\nwhich encase it, they form a branch of the Toungouzes, and are derived\nfrom the vast system of the Altai.\n\nIn this territory, subject to peculiar climatical conditions, the\nautumn appears to be absorbed in the precocious winter. It was now the\nbeginning of October. The sun set at five o'clock in the evening, and\nduring the long nights the temperature fell to zero. The first snows,\nwhich would last till summer, already whitened the summits of the\nneighboring hills. During the Siberian winter this inland sea is frozen\nover to a thickness of several feet, and is crossed by the sleighs of\ncaravans.\n\nEither because there are people who are so wanting in politeness as to\ncall it \"Sir Lake,\" or for some more meteorological reason, Lake Baikal\nis subject to violent tempests. Its waves, short like those of all\ninland seas, are much feared by the rafts, prahms, and steamboats, which\nfurrow it during the summer.\n\nIt was the southwest point of the lake which Michael had now reached,\ncarrying Nadia, whose whole life, so to speak, was concentrated in her\neyes. But what could these two expect, in this wild region, if it was\nnot to die of exhaustion and famine? And yet, what remained of the long\njourney of four thousand miles for the Czar's courier to reach his end?\nNothing but forty miles on the shore of the lake up to the mouth of the\nAngara, and sixty miles from the mouth of the Angara to Irkutsk; in all,\na hundred miles, or three days' journey for a strong man, even on foot.\n\nCould Michael Strogoff still be that man?\n\nHeaven, no doubt, did not wish to put him to this trial. The fatality\nwhich had hitherto pursued his steps seemed for a time to spare him.\nThis end of the Baikal, this part of the steppe, which he believed to be\na desert, which it usually is, was not so now. About fifty people were\ncollected at the angle formed by the end of the lake.\n\nNadia immediately caught sight of this group, when Michael, carrying her\nin his arms, issued from the mountain pass. The girl feared for a moment\nthat it was a Tartar detachment, sent to beat the shores of the Baikal,\nin which case flight would have been impossible to them both. But Nadia\nwas soon reassured.\n\n\"Russians!\" she exclaimed. And with this last effort, her eyes closed\nand her head fell on Michael's breast.\n\nBut they had been seen, and some of these Russians, running to them, led\nthe blind man and the girl to a little point at which was moored a raft.\n\nThe raft was just going to start. These Russians were fugitives of\ndifferent conditions, whom the same interest had united at Lake Baikal.\nDriven back by the Tartar scouts, they hoped to obtain a refuge at\nIrkutsk, but not being able to get there by land, the invaders having\noccupied both banks of the Angara, they hoped to reach it by descending\nthe river which flows through the town.\n\nTheir plan made Michael's heart leap; a last chance was before him,\nbut he had strength to conceal this, wishing to keep his incognito more\nstrictly than ever.\n\nThe fugitives' plan was very simple. A current in the lake runs along\nby the upper bank to the mouth of the Angara; this current they hoped\nto utilize, and with its assistance to reach the outlet of Lake Baikal.\nFrom this point to Irkutsk, the rapid waters of the river would bear\nthem along at a rate of eight miles an hour. In a day and a half they\nmight hope to be in sight of the town.\n\nNo kind of boat was to be found; they had been obliged to make one;\na raft, or rather a float of wood, similar to those which usually are\ndrifted down Siberian rivers, was constructed. A forest of firs, growing\non the bank, had supplied the necessary materials; the trunks, fastened\ntogether with osiers, made a platform on which a hundred people could\nhave easily found room.\n\nOn board this raft Michael and Nadia were taken. The girl had returned\nto herself; some food was given to her as well as to her companion.\nThen, lying on a bed of leaves, she soon fell into a deep sleep.\n\nTo those who questioned him, Michael Strogoff said nothing of what\nhad taken place at Tomsk. He gave himself out as an inhabitant of\nKrasnoiarsk, who had not been able to get to Irkutsk before the Emir's\ntroops arrived on the left bank of the Dinka, and he added that, very\nprobably, the bulk of the Tartar forces had taken up a position before\nthe Siberian capital.\n\nThere was not a moment to be lost; besides, the cold was becoming more\nand more severe. During the night the temperature fell below zero; ice\nwas already forming on the surface of the Baikal. Although the raft\nmanaged to pass easily over the lake, it might not be so easy between\nthe banks of the Angara, should pieces of ice be found to block up its\ncourse.\n\nAt eight in the evening the moorings were cast off, and the raft drifted\nin the current along the shore. It was steered by means of long poles,\nunder the management of several muscular moujiks. An old Baikal boatman\ntook command of the raft. He was a man of sixty-five, browned by the\nsun, and lake breezes. A thick white beard flowed over his chest; a\nfur cap covered his head; his aspect was grave and austere. His large\ngreat-coat, fastened in at the waist, reached down to his heels. This\ntaciturn old fellow was seated in the stern, and issued his commands by\ngestures. Besides, the chief work consisted in keeping the raft in the\ncurrent, which ran along the shore, without drifting out into the open.\n\nIt has been already said that Russians of all conditions had found a\nplace on the raft. Indeed, to the poor moujiks, the women, old men, and\nchildren, were joined two or three pilgrims, surprised on their journey\nby the invasion; a few monks, and a priest. The pilgrims carried a\nstaff, a gourd hung at the belt, and they chanted psalms in a plaintive\nvoice: one came from the Ukraine, another from the Yellow sea, and\na third from the Finland provinces. This last, who was an aged man,\ncarried at his waist a little padlocked collecting-box, as if it had\nbeen hung at a church door. Of all that he collected during his long and\nfatiguing pilgrimage, nothing was for himself; he did not even possess\nthe key of the box, which would only be opened on his return.\n\nThe monks came from the North of the Empire. Three months before they\nhad left the town of Archangel. They had visited the sacred islands near\nthe coast of Carelia, the convent of Solovetsk, the convent of Troitsa,\nthose of Saint Antony and Saint Theodosia, at Kiev, that of Kazan, as\nwell as the church of the Old Believers, and they were now on their way\nto Irkutsk, wearing the robe, the cowl, and the clothes of serge.\n\nAs to the papa, or priest, he was a plain village pastor, one of the six\nhundred thousand popular pastors which the Russian Empire contains. He\nwas clothed as miserably as the moujiks, not being above them in social\nposition; in fact, laboring like a peasant on his plot of ground;\nbaptis-ing, marrying, burying. He had been able to protect his wife and\nchildren from the brutality of the Tartars by sending them away into the\nNorthern provinces. He himself had stayed in his parish up to the last\nmoment; then he was obliged to fly, and, the Irkutsk road being stopped,\nhad come to Lake Baikal.\n\nThese priests, grouped in the forward part of the raft, prayed at\nregular intervals, raising their voices in the silent night, and at the\nend of each sentence of their prayer, the \"Slava Bogu,\" Glory to God!\nissued from their lips.\n\nNo incident took place during the night. Nadia remained in a sort of\nstupor, and Michael watched beside her; sleep only overtook him at long\nintervals, and even then his brain did not rest. At break of day, the\nraft, delayed by a strong breeze, which counteracted the course of the\ncurrent, was still forty versts from the mouth of the Angara. It seemed\nprobable that the fugitives could not reach it before three or four\no'clock in the evening. This did not trouble them; on the contrary, for\nthey would then descend the river during the night, and the darkness\nwould also favor their entrance into Irkutsk.\n\nThe only anxiety exhibited at times by the old boatman was concerning\nthe formation of ice on the surface of the water. The night had been\nexcessively cold; pieces of ice could be seen drifting towards the West.\nNothing was to be dreaded from these, since they could not drift into\nthe Angara, having already passed the mouth; but pieces from the Eastern\nend of the lake might be drawn by the current between the banks of the\nriver; this would cause difficulty, possibly delay, and perhaps even an\ninsurmountable obstacle which would stop the raft.\n\nMichael therefore took immense interest in ascertaining what was the\nstate of the lake, and whether any large number of ice blocks appeared.\nNadia being now awake, he questioned her often, and she gave him an\naccount of all that was going on.\n\nWhilst the blocks were thus drifting, curious phenomena were taking\nplace on the surface of the Baikal. Magnificent jets, from springs of\nboiling water, shot up from some of those artesian wells which Nature\nhas bored in the very bed of the lake. These jets rose to a great height\nand spread out in vapor, which was illuminated by the solar rays, and\nalmost immediately condensed by the cold. This curious sight would have\nassuredly amazed a tourist traveling in peaceful times on this Siberian\nsea.\n\nAt four in the evening, the mouth of the Angara was signaled by the old\nboatman, between the high granite rocks of the shore. On the right bank\ncould be seen the little port of Livenitchnaia, its church, and its few\nhouses built on the bank. But the serious thing was that the ice blocks\nfrom the East were already drifting between the banks of the Angara, and\nconsequently were descending towards Irkutsk. However, their number was\nnot yet great enough to obstruct the course of the raft, nor the cold\ngreat enough to increase their number.\n\nThe raft arrived at the little port and there stopped. The old boatman\nwished to put into harbor for an hour, in order to make some repairs.\nThe trunks threatened to separate, and it was important to fasten them\nmore securely together to resist the rapid current of the Angara.\n\nThe old boatman did not expect to receive any fresh fugitives at\nLivenitchnaia, and yet, the moment the raft touched, two passengers,\nissuing from a deserted house, ran as fast as they could towards the\nbeach.\n\nNadia seated on the raft, was abstractedly gazing at the shore. A cry\nwas about to escape her. She seized Michael's hand, who at that moment\nraised his head.\n\n\"What is the matter, Nadia?\" he asked.\n\n\"Our two traveling companions, Michael.\"\n\n\"The Frenchman and the Englishman whom we met in the defiles of the\nUral?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nMichael started, for the strict incognito which he wished to keep ran a\nrisk of being betrayed. Indeed, it was no longer as Nicholas Korpanoff\nthat Jolivet and Blount would now see him, but as the true Michael\nStrogoff, Courier of the Czar. The two correspondents had already met\nhim twice since their separation at the Ichim post-house--the first time\nat the Zabediero camp, when he laid open Ivan Ogareff's face with the\nknout; the second time at Tomsk, when he was condemned by the Emir. They\ntherefore knew who he was and what depended on him.\n\nMichael Strogoff rapidly made up his mind. \"Nadia,\" said he, \"when they\nstep on board, ask them to come to me!\"\n\nIt was, in fact, Blount and Jolivet, whom the course of events had\nbrought to the port of Livenitchnaia, as it had brought Michael\nStrogoff. As we know, after having been present at the entry of the\nTartars into Tomsk, they had departed before the savage execution which\nterminated the fete. They had therefore never suspected that their\nformer traveling companion had not been put to death, but blinded by\norder of the Emir.\n\nHaving procured horses they had left Tomsk the same evening, with\nthe fixed determination of henceforward dating their letters from\nthe Russian camp of Eastern Siberia. They proceeded by forced marches\ntowards Irkutsk. They hoped to distance Feofar-Khan, and would certainly\nhave done so, had it not been for the unexpected apparition of the third\ncolumn, come from the South, up the valley of the Yenisei. They had been\ncut off, as had been Michael, before being able even to reach the Dinka,\nand had been obliged to go back to Lake Baikal.\n\nThey had been in the place for three days in much perplexity, when\nthe raft arrived. The fugitives' plan was explained to them. There was\ncertainly a chance that they might be able to pass under cover of the\nnight, and penetrate into Irkutsk. They resolved to make the attempt.\n\nAlcide directly communicated with the old boatman, and asked a passage\nfor himself and his companion, offering to pay anything he demanded,\nwhatever it might be.\n\n\"No one pays here,\" replied the old man gravely; \"every one risks his\nlife, that is all!\"\n\nThe two correspondents came on board, and Nadia saw them take their\nplaces in the forepart of the raft. Harry Blount was still the reserved\nEnglishman, who had scarcely addressed a word to her during the whole\npassage over the Ural Mountains. Alcide Jolivet seemed to be rather\nmore grave than usual, and it may be acknowledged that his gravity was\njustified by the circumstances.\n\nJolivet had, as has been said, taken his seat on the raft, when he felt\na hand laid on his arm. Turning, he recognized Nadia, the sister of the\nman who was no longer Nicholas Korpanoff, but Michael Strogoff, Courier\nof the Czar. He was about to make an exclamation of surprise when he saw\nthe young girl lay her finger on her lips.\n\n\"Come,\" said Nadia. And with a careless air, Alcide rose and followed\nher, making a sign to Blount to accompany him.\n\nBut if the surprise of the correspondents had been great at meeting\nNadia on the raft it was boundless when they perceived Michael Strogoff,\nwhom they had believed to be no longer living.\n\nMichael had not moved at their approach. Jolivet turned towards the\ngirl. \"He does not see you, gentlemen,\" said Nadia. \"The Tartars have\nburnt out his eyes! My poor brother is blind!\"\n\nA feeling of lively compassion exhibited itself on the faces of Blount\nand his companion. In a moment they were seated beside Michael, pressing\nhis hand and waiting until he spoke to them.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said Michael, in a low voice, \"you ought not to know who\nI am, nor what I am come to do in Siberia. I ask you to keep my secret.\nWill you promise me to do so?\"\n\n\"On my honor,\" answered Jolivet.\n\n\"On my word as a gentleman,\" added Blount.\n\n\"Good, gentlemen.\"\n\n\"Can we be of any use to you?\" asked Harry Blount. \"Could we not help\nyou to accomplish your task?\"\n\n\"I prefer to act alone,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"But those blackguards have destroyed your sight,\" said Alcide.\n\n\"I have Nadia, and her eyes are enough for me!\"\n\nIn half an hour the raft left the little port of Livenitchnaia, and\nentered the river. It was five in the evening and getting dusk. The\nnight promised to be dark and very cold also, for the temperature was\nalready below zero.\n\nAlcide and Blount, though they had promised to keep Michael's secret,\ndid not leave him. They talked in a low voice, and the blind man, adding\nwhat they told him to what he already knew, was able to form an exact\nidea of the state of things. It was certain that the Tartars had\nactually invested Irkutsk, and that the three columns had effected a\njunction. There was no doubt that the Emir and Ivan Ogareff were before\nthe capital.\n\nBut why did the Czar's courier exhibit such haste to get there, now that\nthe Imperial letter could no longer be given by him to the Grand Duke,\nand when he did not even know the contents of it? Alcide Jolivet and\nBlount could not understand it any more than Nadia had done.\n\nNo one spoke of the past, except when Jolivet thought it his duty to say\nto Michael, \"We owe you some apology for not shaking hands with you when\nwe separated at Ichim.\"\n\n\"No, you had reason to think me a coward!\"\n\n\"At any rate,\" added the Frenchman, \"you knouted the face of that\nvillain finely, and he will carry the mark of it for a long time!\"\n\n\"No, not a long time!\" replied Michael quietly.\n\nHalf an hour after leaving Livenitchnaia, Blount and his companion were\nacquainted with the cruel trials through which Michael and his companion\nhad successively passed. They could not but heartily admire his energy,\nwhich was only equaled by the young girl's devotion. Their opinion of\nMichael was exactly what the Czar had expressed at Moscow: \"Indeed, this\nis a Man!\"\n\nThe raft swiftly threaded its way among the blocks of ice which were\ncarried along in the current of the Angara. A moving panorama was\ndisplayed on both sides of the river, and, by an optical illusion, it\nappeared as if it was the raft which was motionless before a succession\nof picturesque scenes. Here were high granite cliffs, there wild gorges,\ndown which rushed a torrent; sometimes appeared a clearing with a still\nsmoking village, then thick pine forests blazing. But though the Tartars\nhad left their traces on all sides, they themselves were not to be\nseen as yet, for they were more especially massed at the approaches to\nIrkutsk.\n\nAll this time the pilgrims were repeating their prayers aloud, and the\nold boatman, shoving away the blocks of ice which pressed too near them,\nimperturbably steered the raft in the middle of the rapid current of the\nAngara.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI BETWEEN TWO BANKS\n\nBY eight in the evening, the country, as the state of the sky had\nforetold, was enveloped in complete darkness. The moon being new had not\nyet risen. From the middle of the river the banks were invisible. The\ncliffs were confounded with the heavy, low-hanging clouds. At intervals\na puff of wind came from the east, but it soon died away in the narrow\nvalley of the Angara.\n\nThe darkness could not fail to favor in a considerable degree the plans\nof the fugitives. Indeed, although the Tartar outposts must have\nbeen drawn up on both banks, the raft had a good chance of passing\nunperceived. It was not likely either that the besiegers would have\nbarred the river above Irkutsk, since they knew that the Russians could\nnot expect any help from the south of the province. Besides this, before\nlong Nature would herself establish a barrier, by cementing with frost\nthe blocks of ice accumulated between the two banks.\n\nPerfect silence now reigned on board the raft. The voices of the\npilgrims were no longer heard. They still prayed, but their prayer was\nbut a murmur, which could not reach as far as either bank. The fugitives\nlay flat on the platform, so that the raft was scarcely above the level\nof the water. The old boatman crouched down forward among his men,\nsolely occupied in keeping off the ice blocks, a maneuver which was\nperformed without noise.\n\nThe drifting of the ice was a favorable circumstance so long as it did\nnot offer an insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the raft. If that\nobject had been alone on the water, it would have run a risk of being\nseen, even in the darkness, but, as it was, it was confounded with these\nmoving masses, of all shapes and sizes, and the tumult caused by\nthe crashing of the blocks against each other concealed likewise any\nsuspicious noises.\n\nThere was a sharp frost. The fugitives suffered cruelly, having no\nother shelter than a few branches of birch. They cowered down together,\nendeavoring to keep each other warm, the temperature being now ten\ndegrees below freezing point. The wind, though slight, having passed\nover the snow-clad mountains of the east, pierced them through and\nthrough.\n\nMichael and Nadia, lying in the afterpart of the raft, bore this\nincrease of suffering without complaint. Jolivet and Blount, placed near\nthem, stood these first assaults of the Siberian winter as well as they\ncould. No one now spoke, even in a low voice. Their situation entirely\nabsorbed them. At any moment an incident might occur, which they could\nnot escape unscathed.\n\nFor a man who hoped soon to accomplish his mission, Michael was\nsingularly calm. Even in the gravest conjunctures, his energy had\nnever abandoned him. He already saw the moment when he would be at\nlast allowed to think of his mother, of Nadia, of himself! He now only\ndreaded one final unhappy chance; this was, that the raft might be\ncompletely barred by ice before reaching Irkutsk. He thought but of\nthis, determined beforehand, if necessary, to attempt some bold stroke.\n\nRestored by a few hours' rest, Nadia had regained the physical energy\nwhich misery had sometimes overcome, although without ever having shaken\nher moral energy. She thought, too, that if Michael had to make any\nfresh effort to attain his end, she must be there to guide him. But in\nproportion as she drew nearer to Irkutsk, the image of her father rose\nmore and more clearly before her mind. She saw him in the invested town,\nfar from those he loved, but, as she never doubted, struggling against\nthe invaders with all the spirit of his patriotism. In a few hours, if\nHeaven favored them, she would be in his arms, giving him her mother's\nlast words, and nothing should ever separate them again. If the term of\nWassili Fedor's exile should never come to an end, his daughter would\nremain exiled with him. Then, by a natural transition, she came back\nto him who would have enabled her to see her father once more, to that\ngenerous companion, that \"brother,\" who, the Tartars driven back, would\nretake the road to Moscow, whom she would perhaps never meet again!\n\nAs to Alcide Jolivet and Harry Blount, they had one and the same\nthought, which was, that the situation was extremely dramatic, and that,\nwell worked up, it would furnish a most deeply interesting article.\nThe Englishman thought of the readers of the Daily Telegraph, and the\nFrenchman of those of his Cousin Madeleine. At heart, both were not\nwithout feeling some emotion.\n\n\"Well, so much the better!\" thought Alcide Jolivet, \"to move others, one\nmust be moved one's self! I believe there is some celebrated verse\non the subject, but hang me if I can recollect it!\" And with his\nwell-practiced eyes he endeavored to pierce the gloom of the river.\n\nEvery now and then a burst of light dispelling the darkness for a time,\nexhibited the banks under some fantastic aspect--either a forest\non fire, or a still burning village. The Angara was occasionally\nilluminated from one bank to the other. The blocks of ice formed so many\nmirrors, which, reflecting the flames on every point and in every\ncolor, were whirled along by the caprice of the current. The raft passed\nunperceived in the midst of these floating masses.\n\nThe danger was not at these points.\n\nBut a peril of another nature menaced the fugitives. One that they\ncould not foresee, and, above all, one that they could not avoid. Chance\ndiscovered it to Alcide Jolivet in this way:--Lying at the right side\nof the raft, he let his hand hang over into the water. Suddenly he was\nsurprised by the impression made on it by the current. It seemed to be\nof a slimy consistency, as if it had been made of mineral oil. Alcide,\naiding his touch by his sense of smell, could not be mistaken. It was\nreally a layer of liquid naphtha, floating on the surface of the river!\n\nWas the raft really floating on this substance, which is in the highest\ndegree combustible? Where had this naphtha come from? Was it a natural\nphenomenon taking place on the surface of the Angara, or was it to serve\nas an engine of destruction, put in motion by the Tartars? Did they\nintend to carry conflagration into Irkutsk?\n\nSuch were the questions which Alcide asked himself, but he thought it\nbest to make this incident known only to Harry Blount, and they both\nagreed in not alarming their companions by revealing to them this new\ndanger.\n\nIt is known that the soil of Central Asia is like a sponge impregnated\nwith liquid hydrogen. At the port of Bakou, on the Persian frontier,\non the Caspian Sea, in Asia Minor, in China, on the Yuen-Kiang, in the\nBurman Empire, springs of mineral oil rise in thousands to the surface\nof the ground. It is an \"oil country,\" similar to the one which bears\nthis name in North America.\n\nDuring certain religious festivals, principally at the port of Bakou,\nthe natives, who are fire-worshipers, throw liquid naphtha on the\nsurface of the sea, which buoys it up, its density being inferior to\nthat of water. Then at nightfall, when a layer of mineral oil is thus\nspread over the Caspian, they light it, and exhibit the matchless\nspectacle of an ocean of fire undulating and breaking into waves under\nthe breeze.\n\nBut what is only a sign of rejoicing at Bakou, might prove a fearful\ndisaster on the waters of the Angara. Whether it was set on fire by\nmalevolence or imprudence, in the twinkling of an eye a conflagration\nmight spread beyond Irkutsk. On board the raft no imprudence was to be\nfeared; but everything was to be dreaded from the conflagrations on both\nbanks of the Angara, for should a lighted straw or even a spark blow\ninto the water, it would inevitably set the whole current of naphtha in\na blaze.\n\nThe apprehensions of Jolivet and Blount may be better understood than\ndescribed. Would it not be prudent, in face of this new danger, to\nland on one of the banks and wait there? \"At any rate,\" said Alcide,\n\"whatever the danger may be, I know some one who will not land!\"\n\nHe alluded to Michael Strogoff.\n\nIn the meantime, on glided the raft among the masses of ice which were\ngradually getting closer and closer together. Up till then, no Tartar\ndetachment had been seen, which showed that the raft was not abreast of\nthe outposts. At about ten o'clock, however, Harry Blount caught sight\nof a number of black objects moving on the ice blocks. Springing from\none to the other, they rapidly approached.\n\n\"Tartars!\" he thought. And creeping up to the old boatman, he pointed\nout to him the suspicious objects.\n\nThe old man looked attentively. \"They are only wolves!\" said he. \"I\nlike them better than Tartars. But we must defend ourselves, and without\nnoise!\"\n\nThe fugitives would indeed have to defend themselves against these\nferocious beasts, whom hunger and cold had sent roaming through the\nprovince. They had smelt out the raft, and would soon attack it. The\nfugitives must struggle without using firearms, for they could not now\nbe far from the Tartar posts. The women and children were collected in\nthe middle of the raft, and the men, some armed with poles, others with\ntheir knives, stood prepared to repulse their assailants. They did not\nmake a sound, but the howls of the wolves filled the air.\n\nMichael did not wish to remain inactive. He lay down at the side\nattacked by the savage pack. He drew his knife, and every time that a\nwolf passed within his reach, his hand found out the way to plunge his\nweapon into its throat. Neither were Jolivet and Blount idle, but fought\nbravely with the brutes. Their companions gallantly seconded them.\nThe battle was carried on in silence, although many of the fugitives\nreceived severe bites.\n\nThe struggle did not appear as if it would soon terminate. The pack was\nbeing continually reinforced from the right bank of the Angara. \"This\nwill never be finished!\" said Alcide, brandishing his dagger, red with\nblood.\n\nIn fact, half an hour after the commencement of the attack, the wolves\nwere still coming in hundreds across the ice. The exhausted fugitives\nwere getting weaker. The fight was going against them. At that moment, a\ngroup of ten huge wolves, raging with hunger, their eyes glowing in the\ndarkness like red coals, sprang onto the raft. Jolivet and his companion\nthrew themselves into the midst of the fierce beasts, and Michael was\nfinding his way towards them, when a sudden change took place.\n\nIn a few moments the wolves had deserted not only the raft, but also\nthe ice on the river. All the black bodies dispersed, and it was soon\ncertain that they had in all haste regained the shore. Wolves, like\nother beasts of prey, require darkness for their proceedings, and at\nthat moment a bright light illuminated the entire river.\n\nIt was the blaze of an immense fire. The whole of the small town of\nPoshkavsk was burning. The Tartars were indeed there, finishing their\nwork. From this point, they occupied both banks beyond Irkutsk. The\nfugitives had by this time reached the dangerous part of their voyage,\nand they were still twenty miles from the capital.\n\nIt was now half past eleven. The raft continued to glide on amongst the\nice, with which it was quite mingled, but gleams of light sometimes\nfell upon it. The fugitives stretched on the platform did not permit\nthemselves to make a movement by which they might be betrayed.\n\nThe conflagration was going on with frightful rapidity. The houses,\nbuilt of fir-wood, blazed like torches--a hundred and fifty flaming\nat once. With the crackling of the fire was mingled the yells of the\nTartars. The old boatman, getting a foothold on a near piece of ice,\nmanaged to shove the raft towards the right bank, by doing which a\ndistance of from three to four hundred feet divided it from the flames\nof Poshkavsk.\n\nNevertheless, the fugitives, lighted every now and then by the glare,\nwould have been undoubtedly perceived had not the incendiaries been too\nmuch occupied in their work of destruction.\n\nIt may be imagined what were the apprehensions of Jolivet and Blount,\nwhen they thought of the combustible liquid on which the raft floated.\nSparks flew in millions from the houses, which resembled so many glowing\nfurnaces. They rose among the volumes of smoke to a height of five or\nsix hundred feet. On the right bank, the trees and cliffs exposed to\nthe fire looked as if they likewise were burning. A spark falling on the\nsurface of the Angara would be sufficient to spread the flames along the\ncurrent, and to carry disaster from one bank to the other. The result\nof this would be in a short time the destruction of the raft and of all\nthose which it carried.\n\nBut, happily, the breeze did not blow from that side. It came from the\neast, and drove the flames towards the left. It was just possible that\nthe fugitives would escape this danger. The blazing town was at last\npassed. Little by little the glare grew dimmer, the crackling became\nfainter, and the flames at last disappeared behind the high cliffs which\narose at an abrupt turn of the river.\n\nBy this time it was nearly midnight. The deep gloom again threw its\nprotecting shadows over the raft. The Tartars were there, going to and\nfro near the river. They could not be seen, but they could be heard. The\nfires of the outposts burned brightly.\n\nIn the meantime it had become necessary to steer more carefully among\nthe blocks of ice. The old boatman stood up, and the moujiks resumed\ntheir poles. They had plenty of work, the management of the raft\nbecoming more and more difficult as the river was further obstructed.\n\nMichael had crept forward; Jolivet followed; both listened to what the\nold boatman and his men were saying.\n\n\"Look out on the right!\"\n\n\"There are blocks drifting on to us on the left!\"\n\n\"Fend! fend off with your boat-hook!\"\n\n\"Before an hour is past we shall be stopped!\"\n\n\"If it is God's will!\" answered the old man. \"Against His will there is\nnothing to be done.\"\n\n\"You hear them,\" said Alcide.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Michael, \"but God is with us!\"\n\nThe situation became more and more serious. Should the raft be stopped,\nnot only would the fugitives not reach Irkutsk, but they would be\nobliged to leave their floating platform, for it would be very soon\nsmashed to pieces in the ice. The osier ropes would break, the fir\ntrunks torn asunder would drift under the hard crust, and the unhappy\npeople would have no refuge but the ice blocks themselves. Then, when\nday came, they would be seen by the Tartars, and massacred without\nmercy!\n\nMichael returned to the spot where Nadia was waiting for him. He\napproached the girl, took her hand, and put to her the invariable\nquestion: \"Nadia, are you ready?\" to which she replied as usual, \"I am\nready!\"\n\nFor a few versts more the raft continued to drift amongst the floating\nice. Should the river narrow, it would soon form an impassable barrier.\nAlready they seemed to drift slower. Every moment they encountered\nsevere shocks or were compelled to make detours; now, to avoid running\nfoul of a block, there to enter a channel, of which it was necessary\nto take advantage. At length the stoppages became still more alarming.\nThere were only a few more hours of night. Could the fugitives not reach\nIrkutsk by five o'clock in the morning, they must lose all hope of ever\ngetting there at all.\n\nAt half-past one, notwithstanding all efforts, the raft came up against\na thick barrier and stuck fast. The ice, which was drifting down behind\nit, pressed it still closer, and kept it motionless, as though it had\nbeen stranded.\n\nAt this spot the Angara narrowed, it being half its usual breadth.\nThis was the cause of the accumulation of ice, which became gradually\nsoldered together, under the double influence of the increased pressure\nand of the cold. Five hundred feet beyond, the river widened again, and\nthe blocks, gradually detaching themselves from the floe, continued to\ndrift towards Irkutsk. It was probable that had the banks not narrowed,\nthe barrier would not have formed. But the misfortune was irreparable,\nand the fugitives must give up all hope of attaining their object.\n\nHad they possessed the tools usually employed by whalers to cut channels\nthrough the ice-fields--had they been able to get through to where the\nriver widened--they might have been saved. But they had nothing which\ncould make the least incision in the ice, hard as granite in the\nexcessive frost. What were they to do?\n\nAt that moment several shots on the right bank startled the unhappy\nfugitives. A shower of balls fell on the raft. The devoted passengers\nhad been seen. Immediately afterwards shots were heard fired from the\nleft bank. The fugitives, taken between two fires, became the mark of\nthe Tartar sharpshooters. Several were wounded, although in the darkness\nit was only by chance that they were hit.\n\n\"Come, Nadia,\" whispered Michael in the girl's ear.\n\nWithout making a single remark, \"ready for anything,\" Nadia took\nMichael's hand.\n\n\"We must cross the barrier,\" he said in a low tone. \"Guide me, but let\nno one see us leave the raft.\"\n\nNadia obeyed. Michael and she glided rapidly over the floe in the\nobscurity, only broken now and again by the flashes from the muskets.\nNadia crept along in front of Michael. The shot fell around them like a\ntempest of hail, and pattered on the ice. Their hands were soon covered\nwith blood from the sharp and rugged ice over which they clambered, but\nstill on they went.\n\nIn ten minutes, the other side of the barrier was reached. There\nthe waters of the Angara again flowed freely. Several pieces of ice,\ndetached gradually from the floe, were swept along in the current down\ntowards the town. Nadia guessed what Michael wished to attempt. One of\nthe blocks was only held on by a narrow strip.\n\n\"Come,\" said Nadia. And the two crouched on the piece of ice, which\ntheir weight detached from the floe.\n\nIt began to drift. The river widened, the way was open. Michael and\nNadia heard the shots, the cries of distress, the yells of the Tartars.\nThen, little by little, the sounds of agony and of ferocious joy grew\nfaint in the distance.\n\n\"Our poor companions!\" murmured Nadia.\n\nFor half an hour the current hurried along the block of ice which bore\nMichael and Nadia. They feared every moment that it would give\nway beneath them. Swept along in the middle of the current, it was\nunnecessary to give it an oblique direction until they drew near the\nquays of Irkutsk. Michael, his teeth tight set, his ear on the strain,\ndid not utter a word. Never had he been so near his object. He felt that\nhe was about to attain it!\n\nTowards two in the morning a double row of lights glittered on the dark\nhorizon in which were confounded the two banks of the Angara. On the\nright hand were the lights of Irkutsk; on the left, the fires of the\nTartar camp.\n\nMichael Strogoff was not more than half a verst from the town. \"At\nlast!\" he murmured.\n\nBut suddenly Nadia uttered a cry.\n\nAt the cry Michael stood up on the ice, which was wavering. His hand\nwas extended up the Angara. His face, on which a bluish light cast a\npeculiar hue, became almost fearful to look at, and then, as if his eyes\nhad been opened to the bright blaze spreading across the river, \"Ah!\" he\nexclaimed, \"then Heaven itself is against us!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII IRKUTSK\n\nIRKUTSK, the capital of Eastern Siberia, is a populous town, containing,\nin ordinary times, thirty thousand inhabitants. On the right side of\nthe Angara rises a hill, on which are built numerous churches, a lofty\ncathedral, and dwellings disposed in picturesque disorder.\n\nSeen at a distance, from the top of the mountain which rises at about\ntwenty versts off along the Siberian highroad, this town, with its\ncupolas, its bell-towers, its steeples slender as minarets, its domes\nlike pot-bellied Chinese jars, presents something of an oriental aspect.\nBut this similarity vanishes as the traveler enters.\n\nThe town, half Byzantine, half Chinese, becomes European as soon as\nhe sees its macadamized roads, bordered with pavements, traversed by\ncanals, planted with gigantic birches, its houses of brick and wood,\nsome of which have several stories, the numerous equipages which drive\nalong, not only tarantasses but broughams and coaches; lastly, its\nnumerous inhabitants far advanced in civilization, to whom the latest\nParis fashions are not unknown.\n\nBeing the refuge for all the Siberians of the province, Irkutsk was\nat this time very full. Stores of every kind had been collected\nin abundance. Irkutsk is the emporium of the innumerable kinds of\nmerchandise which are exchanged between China, Central Asia, and Europe.\nThe authorities had therefore no fear with regard to admitting the\npeasants of the valley of the Angara, and leaving a desert between the\ninvaders and the town.\n\nIrkutsk is the residence of the governor-general of Eastern Siberia.\nBelow him acts a civil governor, in whose hands is the administration\nof the province; a head of police, who has much to do in a town where\nexiles abound; and, lastly, a mayor, chief of the merchants, and a\nperson of some importance, from his immense fortune and the influence\nwhich he exercises over the people.\n\nThe garrison of Irkutsk was at that time composed of an infantry\nregiment of Cossacks, consisting of two thousand men, and a body of\npolice wearing helmets and blue uniforms laced with silver. Besides,\nas has been said, in consequence of the events which had occurred, the\nbrother of the Czar had been shut up in the town since the beginning of\nthe invasion.\n\nA journey of political importance had taken the Grand Duke to these\ndistant provinces of Central Asia. After passing through the principal\nSiberian cities, the Grand Duke, who traveled en militaire rather than\nen prince, without any parade, accompanied by his officers, and escorted\nby a regiment of Cossacks, arrived in the Trans-Baikalcine provinces.\nNikolaevsk, the last Russian town situated on the shore of the Sea of\nOkhotsk, had been honored by a visit from him. Arrived on the confines\nof the immense Muscovite Empire, the Grand Duke was returning towards\nIrkutsk, from which place he intended to retake the road to Moscow,\nwhen, sudden as a thunder clap, came the news of the invasion.\n\nHe hastened to the capital, but only reached it just before\ncommunication with Russia had been interrupted. There was time to\nreceive only a few telegrams from St. Petersburg and Moscow, and with\ndifficulty to answer them before the wire was cut. Irkutsk was isolated\nfrom the rest of the world.\n\nThe Grand Duke had now only to prepare for resistance, and this he\ndid with that determination and coolness of which, under other\ncircumstances, he had given incontestable proofs. The news of the\ntaking of Ichim, Omsk, and Tomsk, successively reached Irkutsk. It was\nnecessary at any price to save the capital of Siberia. Reinforcements\ncould not be expected for some time. The few troops scattered about in\nthe provinces of Siberia could not arrive in sufficiently large numbers\nto arrest the progress of the Tartar columns. Since therefore it was\nimpossible for Irkutsk to escape attack, the most important thing to be\ndone was to put the town in a state to sustain a siege of some duration.\n\nThe preparations were begun on the day Tomsk fell into the hands of the\nTartars. At the same time with this last news, the Grand Duke heard that\nthe Emir of Bokhara and the allied Khans were directing the invasion\nin person, but what he did not know was, that the lieutenant of these\nbarbarous chiefs was Ivan Ogareff, a Russian officer whom he had himself\nreduced to the ranks, but with whose person he was not acquainted.\n\nFirst of all, as we have seen, the inhabitants of the province of\nIrkutsk were compelled to abandon the towns and villages. Those who\ndid not take refuge in the capital had to retire beyond Lake Baikal, a\ndistrict to which the invasion would probably not extend its ravages.\nThe harvests of corn and fodder were collected and stored up in the\ntown, and Irkutsk, the last bulwark of the Muscovite power in the\nFar East, was put in a condition to resist the enemy for a lengthened\nperiod.\n\nIrkutsk, founded in 1611, is situated at the confluence of the Irkut\nand the Angara, on the right bank of the latter river. Two wooden\ndraw-bridges, built on piles, connected the town with its suburbs on the\nleft bank. On this side, defence was easy. The suburbs were abandoned,\nthe bridges destroyed. The Angara being here very wide, it would not be\npossible to pass it under the fire of the besieged.\n\nBut the river might be crossed both above and below the town, and\nconsequently, Irkutsk ran a risk of being attacked on its east side, on\nwhich there was no wall to protect it.\n\nThe whole population were immediately set to work on the fortifications.\nThey labored day and night. The Grand Duke observed with satisfaction\nthe zeal exhibited by the people in the work, whom ere long he would\nfind equally courageous in the defense. Soldiers, merchants, exiles,\npeasants, all devoted themselves to the common safety. A week before the\nTartars appeared on the Angara, earth-works had been raised. A fosse,\nflooded by the waters of the Angara, was dug between the scarp and\ncounterscarp. The town could not now be taken by a coup de main. It must\nbe invested and besieged.\n\nThe third Tartar column--the one which came up the valley of the Yenisei\non the 24th of September--appeared in sight of Irkutsk. It immediately\noccupied the deserted suburbs, every building in which had been\ndestroyed so as not to impede the fire of the Grand Duke's guns,\nunfortunately but few in number and of small caliber. The Tartar troops\nas they arrived organized a camp on the bank of the Angara, whilst\nwaiting the arrival of the two other columns, commanded by the Emir and\nhis allies.\n\nThe junction of these different bodies was effected on the 25th of\nSeptember, in the Angara camp, and the whole of the invading army,\nexcept the garrisons left in the principal conquered towns, was\nconcentrated under the command of Feofar-Khan.\n\nThe passage of the Angara in front of Irkutsk having been regarded\nby Ogareff as impracticable, a strong body of troops crossed, several\nversts up the river, by means of bridges formed with boats. The Grand\nDuke did not attempt to oppose the enemy in their passage. He could only\nimpede, not prevent it, having no field-artillery at his disposal, and\nhe therefore remained in Irkutsk.\n\nThe Tartars now occupied the right bank of the river; then, advancing\ntowards the town, they burnt, in passing, the summer-house of the\ngovernor-general, and at last having entirely invested Irkutsk, took up\ntheir positions for the siege.\n\nIvan Ogareff, who was a clever engineer, was perfectly competent\nto direct a regular siege; but he did not possess the materials for\noperating rapidly. He was disappointed too in the chief object of all\nhis efforts--the surprise of Irkutsk. Things had not turned out as he\nhoped. First, the march of the Tartar army was delayed by the battle of\nTomsk; and secondly, the preparations for the defense were made far more\nrapidly than he had supposed possible; these two things had balked his\nplans. He was now under the necessity of instituting a regular siege of\nthe town.\n\nHowever, by his suggestion, the Emir twice attempted the capture of the\nplace, at the cost of a large sacrifice of men. He threw soldiers on the\nearth-works which presented any weak point; but these two assaults were\nrepulsed with the greatest courage. The Grand Duke and his officers did\nnot spare themselves on this occasion. They appeared in person; they\nled the civil population to the ramparts. Citizens and peasants both did\ntheir duty.\n\nAt the second attack, the Tartars managed to force one of the gates. A\nfight took place at the head of Bolchaia Street, two versts long, on the\nbanks of the Angara. But the Cossacks, the police, the citizens, united\nin so fierce a resistance that the Tartars were driven out.\n\nIvan Ogareff then thought of obtaining by stratagem what he could not\ngain by force. We have said that his plan was to penetrate into the\ntown, make his way to the Grand Duke, gain his confidence, and, when the\ntime came, give up the gates to the besiegers; and, that done, wreak\nhis vengeance on the brother of the Czar. The Tsigane Sangarre, who had\naccompanied him to the Angara, urged him to put this plan in execution.\n\nIndeed, it was necessary to act without delay. The Russian troops from\nthe government of Yakutsk were advancing towards Irkutsk. They had\nconcentrated along the upper course of the Lena. In six days they would\narrive. Therefore, before six days had passed, Irkutsk must be betrayed.\nOgareff hesitated no longer.\n\nOne evening, the 2d of October, a council of war was held in the grand\nsaloon of the palace of the governor-general. This palace, standing at\nthe end of Bolchaia Street, overlooked the river. From its windows could\nbe seen the camp of the Tartars, and had the invaders possessed guns of\nwider range, they would have rendered the palace uninhabitable.\n\nThe Grand Duke, General Voranzoff, the governor of the town, and\nthe chief of the merchants, with several officers, had collected to\ndetermine upon various proposals.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said the Grand Duke, \"you know our situation exactly. I\nhave the firm hope that we shall be able to hold out until the arrival\nof the Yakutsk troops. We shall then be able to drive off these\nbarbarian hordes, and it will not be my fault if they do not pay dearly\nfor this invasion of the Muscovite territory.\"\n\n\"Your Highness knows that all the population of Irkutsk may be relied\non,\" said General Voranzoff.\n\n\"Yes, general,\" replied the Grand Duke, \"and I do justice to their\npatriotism. Thanks to God, they have not yet been subjected to the\nhorrors of epidemic and famine, and I have reason to hope that they will\nescape them; but I cannot admire their courage on the ramparts enough.\nYou hear my words, Sir Merchant, and I beg you to repeat such to them.\"\n\n\"I thank your Highness in the name of the town,\" answered the merchant\nchief. \"May I ask you what is the most distant date when we may expect\nthe relieving army?\"\n\n\"Six days at most, sir,\" replied the Grand Duke. \"A brave and clever\nmessenger managed this morning to get into the town, and he told me that\nfifty thousand Russians under General Kisselef, are advancing by forced\nmarches. Two days ago, they were on the banks of the Lena, at Kirensk,\nand now, neither frost nor snow will keep them back. Fifty thousand good\nmen, taking the Tartars on the flank, will soon set us free.\"\n\n\"I will add,\" said the chief of the merchants, \"that we shall be\nready to execute your orders, any day that your Highness may command a\nsortie.\"\n\n\"Good, sir,\" replied the Grand Duke. \"Wait till the heads of the\nrelieving columns appear on the heights, and we will speedily crush\nthese invaders.\"\n\nThen turning to General Voranzoff, \"To-morrow,\" said he, \"we will visit\nthe works on the right bank. Ice is drifting down the Angara, which\nwill not be long in freezing, and in that case the Tartars might perhaps\ncross.\"\n\n\"Will your Highness allow me to make an observation?\" said the chief of\nthe merchants.\n\n\"Do so, sir.\"\n\n\"I have more than once seen the temperature fall to thirty and forty\ndegrees below zero, and the Angara has still carried down drifting ice\nwithout entirely freezing. This is no doubt owing to the swiftness of\nits current. If therefore the Tartars have no other means of crossing\nthe river, I can assure your Highness that they will not enter Irkutsk\nin that way.\"\n\nThe governor-general confirmed this assertion.\n\n\"It is a fortunate circumstance,\" responded the Grand Duke.\n\"Nevertheless, we must hold ourselves ready for any emergency.\"\n\nHe then, turning towards the head of the police, asked, \"Have you\nnothing to say to me, sir?\"\n\n\"I have your Highness,\" answered the head of police, \"a petition which\nis addressed to you through me.\"\n\n\"Addressed by whom?\"\n\n\"By the Siberian exiles, whom, as your Highness knows, are in the town\nto the number of five hundred.\"\n\nThe political exiles, distributed over the province, had been collected\nin Irkutsk, from the beginning of the invasion. They had obeyed the\norder to rally in the town, and leave the villages where they exercised\ntheir different professions, some doctors, some professors, either\nat the Gymnasium, or at the Japanese School, or at the School of\nNavigation. The Grand Duke, trusting like the Czar in their patriotism,\nhad armed them, and they had thoroughly proved their bravery.\n\n\"What do the exiles ask?\" said the Grand Duke.\n\n\"They ask the consent of your Highness,\" answered the head of police,\n\"to their forming a special corps and being placed in the front of the\nfirst sortie.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Grand Duke with an emotion which he did not seek to\nhide, \"these exiles are Russians, and it is their right to fight for\ntheir country!\"\n\n\"I believe I may assure your Highness,\" said the governor-general, \"you\nwill have no better soldiers.\"\n\n\"But they must have a chief,\" said the Grand Duke, \"who will he be?\"\n\n\"They wish to recommend to your Highness,\" said the head of police, \"one\nof their number, who has distinguished himself on several occasions.\"\n\n\"Is he a Russian?\"\n\n\"Yes, a Russian from the Baltic provinces.\"\n\n\"His name?\"\n\n\"Is Wassili Fedor.\"\n\nThis exile was Nadia's father. Wassili Fedor, as we have already said,\nfollowed his profession of a medical man in Irkutsk. He was clever and\ncharitable, and also possessed the greatest courage and most sincere\npatriotism. All the time which he did not devote to the sick he employed\nin organizing the defense. It was he who had united his companions\nin exile in the common cause. The exiles, till then mingled with the\npopulation, had behaved in such a way as to draw on themselves the\nattention of the Grand Duke. In several sorties, they had paid with\ntheir blood their debt to holy Russia--holy as they believe, and adored\nby her children! Wassili Fedor had behaved heroically; his name had been\nmentioned several times, but he never asked either thanks or favors, and\nwhen the exiles of Irkutsk thought of forming themselves into a special\ncorps, he was ignorant of their intention of choosing him for their\ncaptain.\n\nWhen the head of police mentioned this name, the Grand Duke answered\nthat it was not unknown to him.\n\n\"Indeed,\" remarked General Voranzoff, \"Wassili Fedor is a man of worth\nand courage. His influence over his companions has always been very\ngreat.\"\n\n\"How long has he been at Irkutsk?\" asked the Duke.\n\n\"For two years.\"\n\n\"And his conduct?\"\n\n\"His conduct,\" answered the head of police, \"is that of a man obedient\nto the special laws which govern him.\"\n\n\"General,\" said the Grand Duke, \"General, be good enough to present him\nto me immediately.\"\n\nThe orders of the Grand Duke were obeyed, and before half an hour had\npassed, Fedor was introduced into his presence. He was a man over forty,\ntall, of a stern and sad countenance. One felt that his whole life was\nsummed up in a single word--strife--he had striven and suffered. His\nfeatures bore a marked resemblance to those of his daughter, Nadia\nFedor.\n\nThis Tartar invasion had severely wounded him in his tenderest\naffections, and ruined the hope of the father, exiled eight thousand\nversts from his native town. A letter had apprised him of the death of\nhis wife, and at the same time of the departure of his daughter, who had\nobtained from the government an authorization to join him at Irkutsk.\nNadia must have left Riga on the 10th of July. The invasion had begun\non the 15th of July; if at that time Nadia had passed the frontier, what\ncould have become of her in the midst of the invaders? The anxiety\nof the unhappy father may be supposed when, from that time, he had no\nfurther news of his daughter.\n\nWassili Fedor entered the presence of the Grand Duke, bowed, and waited\nto be questioned.\n\n\"Wassili Fedor,\" said the Grand Duke, \"your companions in exile have\nasked to be allowed to form a select corps. They are not ignorant that\nin this corps they must make up their minds to be killed to the last\nman?\"\n\n\"They are not ignorant of it,\" replied Fedor.\n\n\"They wish to have you for their captain.\"\n\n\"I, your Highness?\"\n\n\"Do you consent to be placed at their head?\"\n\n\"Yes, if it is for the good of Russia.\"\n\n\"Captain Fedor,\" said the Grand Duke, \"you are no longer an exile.\"\n\n\"Thanks, your Highness, but can I command those who are so still?\"\n\n\"They are so no longer!\" The brother of the Czar had granted a pardon to\nall Fedor's companions in exile, now his companions in arms!\n\nWassili Fedor wrung, with emotion, the hand which the Grand Duke held\nout to him, and retired.\n\nThe latter, turned to his officers, \"The Czar will not refuse to ratify\nthat pardon,\" said he, smiling; \"we need heroes to defend the capital of\nSiberia, and I have just made some.\"\n\nThis pardon, so generously accorded to the exiles of Irkutsk, was indeed\nan act of real justice and sound policy.\n\nIt was now night. Through the windows of the palace burned the fires of\nthe Tartar camp, flickering beyond the Angara. Down the river drifted\nnumerous blocks of ice, some of which stuck on the piles of the old\nbridges; others were swept along by the current with great rapidity.\nIt was evident, as the merchant had observed, that it would be very\ndifficult for the Angara to freeze all over. The defenders of Irkutsk\nhad not to dread being attacked on that side. Ten o'clock had just\nstruck. The Grand Duke was about to dismiss his officers and retire to\nhis apartments, when a tumult was heard outside the palace.\n\nAlmost immediately the door was thrown open, an aide-de-camp appeared,\nand advanced rapidly towards the Grand Duke.\n\n\"Your Highness,\" said he, \"a courier from the Czar!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII THE CZAR'S COURIER\n\nALL the members of the council simultaneously started forward. A courier\nfrom the Czar arrived in Irkutsk! Had these officers for a moment\nconsidered the improbability of this fact, they would certainly not have\ncredited what they heard.\n\nThe Grand Duke advanced quickly to his aide-de-camp. \"This courier!\" he\nexclaimed.\n\nA man entered. He appeared exhausted with fatigue. He wore the dress\nof a Siberian peasant, worn into tatters, and exhibiting several\nshot-holes. A Muscovite cap was on his head. His face was disfigured\nby a recently-healed scar. The man had evidently had a long and painful\njourney; his shoes being in a state which showed that he had been\nobliged to make part of it on foot.\n\n\"His Highness the Grand Duke?\" he asked.\n\nThe Grand Duke went up to him. \"You are a courier from the Czar?\" he\nasked.\n\n\"Yes, your Highness.\"\n\n\"You come?\"\n\n\"From Moscow.\"\n\n\"You left Moscow?\"\n\n\"On the 15th of July.\"\n\n\"Your name?\"\n\n\"Michael Strogoff.\"\n\nIt was Ivan Ogareff. He had taken the designation of the man whom he\nbelieved that he had rendered powerless. Neither the Grand Duke\nnor anyone knew him in Irkutsk, and he had not even to disguise his\nfeatures. As he was in a position to prove his pretended identity,\nno one could have any reason for doubting him. He came, therefore,\nsustained by his iron will, to hasten by treason and assassination the\ngreat object of the invasion.\n\nAfter Ogareff had replied, the Grand Duke signed to all his officers\nto withdraw. He and the false Michael Strogoff remained alone in the\nsaloon.\n\nThe Grand Duke looked at Ivan Ogareff for some moments with extreme\nattention. Then he said, \"On the 15th of July you were at Moscow?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Highness; and on the night of the 14th I saw His Majesty the\nCzar at the New Palace.\"\n\n\"Have you a letter from the Czar?\"\n\n\"Here it is.\"\n\nAnd Ivan Ogareff handed to the Grand Duke the Imperial letter, crumpled\nto almost microscopic size.\n\n\"Was the letter given you in this state?\"\n\n\"No, your Highness, but I was obliged to tear the envelope, the better\nto hide it from the Emir's soldiers.\"\n\n\"Were you taken prisoner by the Tartars?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Highness, I was their prisoner for several days,\" answered\nOgareff. \"That is the reason that, having left Moscow on the 15th of\nJuly, as the date of that letter shows, I only reached Irkutsk on the 2d\nof October, after traveling seventy-nine days.\"\n\nThe Grand Duke took the letter. He unfolded it and recognized the Czar's\nsignature, preceded by the decisive formula, written by his brother's\nhand. There was no possible doubt of the authenticity of this letter,\nnor of the identity of the courier. Though Ogareff's countenance had at\nfirst inspired the Grand Duke with some distrust, he let nothing of it\nappear, and it soon vanished.\n\nThe Grand Duke remained for a few minutes without speaking. He read the\nletter slowly, so as to take in its meaning fully. \"Michael Strogoff, do\nyou know the contents of this letter?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, your Highness. I might have been obliged to destroy it, to prevent\nits falling into the hands of the Tartars, and should such have been the\ncase, I wished to be able to bring the contents of it to your Highness.\"\n\n\"You know that this letter enjoins us all to die, rather than give up\nthe town?\"\n\n\"I know it.\"\n\n\"You know also that it informs me of the movements of the troops which\nhave combined to stop the invasion?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Highness, but the movements have failed.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean that Ichim, Omsk, Tomsk, to speak only of the more important\ntowns of the two Siberias, have been successively occupied by the\nsoldiers of Feofar-Khan.\"\n\n\"But there has been fighting? Have not our Cossacks met the Tartars?\"\n\n\"Several times, your Highness.\"\n\n\"And they were repulsed?\"\n\n\"They were not in sufficient force to oppose the enemy.\"\n\n\"Where did the encounters take place?\"\n\n\"At Kolyvan, at Tomsk.\" Until now, Ogareff had only spoken the truth,\nbut, in the hope of troubling the defenders of Irkutsk by exaggerating\nthe defeats, he added, \"And a third time before Krasnoiarsk.\"\n\n\"And what of this last engagement?\" asked the Grand Duke, through whose\ncompressed lips the words could scarcely pass.\n\n\"It was more than an engagement, your Highness,\" answered Ogareff; \"it\nwas a battle.\"\n\n\"A battle?\"\n\n\"Twenty thousand Russians, from the frontier provinces and the\ngovernment of Tobolsk, engaged with a hundred and fifty thousand\nTartars, and, notwithstanding their courage, were overwhelmed.\"\n\n\"You lie!\" exclaimed the Grand Duke, endeavoring in vain to curb his\npassion.\n\n\"I speak the truth, your Highness,\" replied Ivan Ogareff coldly. \"I\nwas present at the battle of Krasnoiarsk, and it was there I was made\nprisoner!\"\n\nThe Grand Duke grew calmer, and by a significant gesture he gave Ogareff\nto understand that he did not doubt his veracity. \"What day did this\nbattle of Krasnoiarsk take place?\" he asked.\n\n\"On the 2d of September.\"\n\n\"And now all the Tartar troops are concentrated here?\"\n\n\"All.\"\n\n\"And you estimate them?\"\n\n\"At about four hundred thousand men.\"\n\nAnother exaggeration of Ogareff's in the estimate of the Tartar army,\nwith the same object as before.\n\n\"And I must not expect any help from the West provinces?\" asked the\nGrand Duke.\n\n\"None, your Highness, at any rate before the end of the winter.\"\n\n\"Well, hear this, Michael Strogoff. Though I must expect no help either\nfrom the East or from the West, even were these barbarians six hundred\nthousand strong, I will never give up Irkutsk!\"\n\nOgareff's evil eye slightly contracted. The traitor thought to himself\nthat the brother of the Czar did not reckon the result of treason.\n\nThe Grand Duke, who was of a nervous temperament, had great difficulty\nin keeping calm whilst hearing this disastrous news. He walked to and\nfro in the room, under the gaze of Ogareff, who eyed him as a victim\nreserved for vengeance. He stopped at the windows, he looked forth at\nthe fires in the Tartar camp, he listened to the noise of the ice-blocks\ndrifting down the Angara.\n\nA quarter of an hour passed without his putting any more questions. Then\ntaking up the letter, he re-read a passage and said, \"You know that in\nthis letter I am warned of a traitor, of whom I must beware?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Highness.\"\n\n\"He will try to enter Irkutsk in disguise; gain my confidence, and\nbetray the town to the Tartars.\"\n\n\"I know all that, your Highness, and I know also that Ivan Ogareff has\nsworn to revenge himself personally on the Czar's brother.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It is said that the officer in question was condemned by the Grand Duke\nto a humiliating degradation.\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember. But it is a proof that the villain, who could\nafterwards serve against his country and head an invasion of barbarians,\ndeserved it.\"\n\n\"His Majesty the Czar,\" said Ogareff, \"was particularly anxious that you\nshould be warned of the criminal projects of Ivan Ogareff against your\nperson.\"\n\n\"Yes; of that the letter informs me.\"\n\n\"And His Majesty himself spoke to me of it, telling me I was above all\nthings to beware of the traitor.\"\n\n\"Did you meet with him?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Highness, after the battle of Krasnoiarsk. If he had only\nguessed that I was the bearer of a letter addressed to your Highness, in\nwhich his plans were revealed, I should not have got off so easily.\"\n\n\"No; you would have been lost!\" replied the Grand Duke. \"And how did you\nmanage to escape?\"\n\n\"By throwing myself into the Irtych.\"\n\n\"And how did you enter Irkutsk?\"\n\n\"Under cover of a sortie, which was made this evening to repulse a\nTartar detachment. I mingled with the defenders of the town, made myself\nknown, and was immediately conducted before your Highness.\"\n\n\"Good, Michael Strogoff,\" answered the Grand Duke. \"You have shown\ncourage and zeal in your difficult mission. I will not forget you. Have\nyou any favor to ask?\"\n\n\"None; unless it is to be allowed to fight at the side of your\nHighness,\" replied Ogareff.\n\n\"So be it, Strogoff. I attach you from to-day to my person, and you\nshall be lodged in the palace.\"\n\n\"And if according to his intention, Ivan Ogareff should present himself\nto your Highness under a false name?\"\n\n\"We will unmask him, thanks to you, who know him, and I will make him\ndie under the knout. Go!\"\n\nOgareff gave a military salute, not forgetting that he was a captain of\nthe couriers of the Czar, and retired.\n\nOgareff had so far played his unworthy part with success. The Grand\nDuke's entire confidence had been accorded him. He could now betray it\nwhenever it suited him. He would inhabit the very palace. He would be\nin the secret of all the operations for the defense of the town. He thus\nheld the situation in his hand, as it were. No one in Irkutsk knew him,\nno one could snatch off his mask. He resolved therefore to set to work\nwithout delay.\n\nIndeed, time pressed. The town must be captured before the arrival of\nthe Russians from the North and East, and that was only a question of a\nfew days. The Tartars once masters of Irkutsk, it would not be easy\nto take it again from them. At any rate, even if they were obliged to\nabandon it later, they would not do so before they had utterly destroyed\nit, and before the head of the Grand Duke had rolled at the feet of\nFeofar-Khan.\n\nIvan Ogareff, having every facility for seeing, observing, and acting,\noccupied himself the next day with visiting the ramparts. He was\neverywhere received with cordial congratulations from officers,\nsoldiers, and citizens. To them this courier from the Czar was a link\nwhich connected them with the empire.\n\nOgareff recounted, with an assurance which never failed, numerous\nfictitious events of his journey. Then, with the cunning for which he\nwas noted, without dwelling too much on it at first, he spoke of the\ngravity of the situation, exaggerating the success of the Tartars and\nthe numbers of the barbarian forces, as he had when speaking to\nthe Grand Duke. According to him, the expected succors would be\ninsufficient, if ever they arrived at all, and it was to be feared that\na battle fought under the walls of Irkutsk would be as fatal as the\nbattles of Kolyvan, Tomsk, and Krasnoiarsk.\n\nOgareff was not too free in these insinuations. He wished to allow\nthem to sink gradually into the minds of the defenders of Irkutsk.\nHe pretended only to answer with reluctance when much pressed with\nquestions. He always added that they must fight to the last man, and\nblow up the town rather than yield!\n\nThese false statements would have done more harm had it been possible;\nbut the garrison and the population of Irkutsk were too patriotic to let\nthemselves be moved. Of all the soldiers and citizens shut up in this\ntown, isolated at the extremity of the Asiatic world, not one dreamed of\neven speaking of a capitulation. The contempt of the Russians for these\nbarbarians was boundless.\n\nNo one suspected the odious part played by Ivan Ogareff; no one guessed\nthat the pretended courier of the Czar was a traitor. It occurred very\nnaturally that on his arrival in Irkutsk, a frequent intercourse was\nestablished between Ogareff and one of the bravest defenders of the\ntown, Wassili Fedor. We know what anxiety this unhappy father suffered.\nIf his daughter, Nadia Fedor, had left Russia on the date fixed by the\nlast letter he had received from Riga, what had become of her? Was she\nstill trying to cross the invaded provinces, or had she long since been\ntaken prisoner? The only alleviation to Wassili Fedor's anxiety was\nwhen he could obtain an opportunity of engaging in battle with the\nTartars--opportunities which came too seldom for his taste. The very\nevening the pretended courier arrived, Wassili Fedor went to\nthe governor-general's palace and, acquainting Ogareff with the\ncircumstances under which his daughter must have left European Russia,\ntold him all his uneasiness about her. Ogareff did not know Nadia,\nalthough he had met her at Ichim on the day she was there with Michael\nStrogoff; but then, he had not paid more attention to her than to the\ntwo reporters, who at the same time were in the post-house; he therefore\ncould give Wassili Fedor no news of his daughter.\n\n\"But at what time,\" asked Ogareff, \"must your daughter have left the\nRussian territory?\"\n\n\"About the same time that you did,\" replied Fedor.\n\n\"I left Moscow on the 15th of July.\"\n\n\"Nadia must also have quitted Moscow at that time. Her letter told me so\nexpressly.\"\n\n\"She was in Moscow on the 15th of July?\"\n\n\"Yes, certainly, by that date.\"\n\n\"Then it was impossible for her--But no, I am mistaken--I was confusing\ndates. Unfortunately, it is too probable that your daughter must have\npassed the frontier, and you can only have one hope, that she stopped on\nlearning the news of the Tartar invasion!\"\n\nThe father's head fell! He knew Nadia, and he knew too well that\nnothing would have prevented her from setting out. Ivan Ogareff had just\ncommitted gratuitously an act of real cruelty. With a word he might\nhave reassured Fedor. Although Nadia had passed the frontier under\ncircumstances with which we are acquainted, Fedor, by comparing the date\non which his daughter would have been at Nijni-Novgorod, and the date of\nthe proclamation which forbade anyone to leave it, would no doubt have\nconcluded thus: that Nadia had not been exposed to the dangers of the\ninvasion, and that she was still, in spite of herself, in the European\nterritory of the Empire.\n\nOgareff obedient to his nature, a man who was never touched by the\nsufferings of others, might have said that word. He did not say it.\nFedor retired with his heart broken. In that interview his last hope was\ncrushed.\n\nDuring the two following days, the 3rd and 4th of October, the Grand\nDuke often spoke to the pretended Michael Strogoff, and made him\nrepeat all that he had heard in the Imperial Cabinet of the New Palace.\nOgareff, prepared for all these questions, replied without the least\nhesitation. He intentionally did not conceal that the Czar's government\nhad been utterly surprised by the invasion, that the insurrection had\nbeen prepared in the greatest possible secrecy, that the Tartars were\nalready masters of the line of the Obi when the news reached Moscow, and\nlastly, that none of the necessary preparations were completed in the\nRussian provinces for sending into Siberia the troops requisite for\nrepulsing the invaders.\n\nIvan Ogareff, being entirely free in his movements, began to study\nIrkutsk, the state of its fortifications, their weak points, so as to\nprofit subsequently by his observations, in the event of being prevented\nfrom consummating his act of treason. He examined particularly the\nBolchaia Gate, the one he wished to deliver up.\n\nTwice in the evening he came upon the glacis of this gate. He walked\nup and down, without fear of being discovered by the besiegers, whose\nnearest posts were at least a mile from the ramparts. He fancied that he\nwas recognized by no one, till he caught sight of a shadow gliding along\noutside the earthworks. Sangarre had come at the risk of her life for\nthe purpose of putting herself in communication with Ivan Ogareff.\n\nFor two days the besieged had enjoyed a tranquillity to which\nthe Tartars had not accustomed them since the commencement of the\ninvestment. This was by Ogareff's orders. Feofar-Khan's lieutenant\nwished that all attempts to take the town by force should be suspended.\nHe hoped the watchfulness of the besieged would relax. At any rate,\nseveral thousand Tartars were kept in readiness at the outposts, to\nattack the gate, deserted, as Ogareff anticipated that it would be, by\nits defenders, whenever he should summon the besiegers to the assault.\n\nThis he could not now delay in doing. All must be over by the time\nthat the Russian troops should come in sight of Irkutsk. Ogareff's\narrangements were made, and on this evening a note fell from the top of\nthe earthworks into Sangarre's hands.\n\nOn the next day, that is to say during the hours of darkness from the\n5th to the 6th of October, at two o'clock in the morning, Ivan Ogareff\nhad resolved to deliver up Irkutsk.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER\n\nIVAN OGAREFF'S plan had been contrived with the greatest care, and\nexcept for some unforeseen accident he believed that it must succeed.\nIt was of importance that the Bolchaia Gate should be unguarded or\nonly feebly held when he gave it up. The attention of the besieged\nwas therefore to be drawn to another part of the town. A diversion was\nagreed upon with the Emir.\n\nThis diversion was to be effected both up and down the river, on the\nIrkutsk bank. The attack on these two points was to be conducted in\nearnest, and at the same time a feigned attempt at crossing the Angara\nfrom the left bank was to be made. The Bolchaia Gate, would be probably\ndeserted, so much the more because on this side the Tartar outposts\nhaving drawn back, would appear to have broken up.\n\nIt was the 5th of October. In four and twenty hours, the capital of\nEastern Siberia would be in the hands of the Emir, and the Grand Duke in\nthe power of Ivan Ogareff.\n\nDuring the day, an unusual stir was going on in the Angara camp. From\nthe windows of the palace important preparations on the opposite shore\ncould be distinctly seen. Numerous Tartar detachments were converging\ntowards the camp, and from hour to hour reinforced the Emir's troops.\nThese movements, intended to deceive the besieged, were conducted in the\nmost open manner possible before their eyes.\n\nOgareff had warned the Grand Duke that an attack was to be feared. He\nknew, he said, that an assault was to be made, both above and below\nthe town, and he counselled the Duke to reinforce the two directly\nthreatened points. Accordingly, after a council of war had been held in\nthe palace, orders were issued to concentrate the defense on the bank\nof the Angara and at the two ends of the town, where the earthworks\nprotected the river.\n\nThis was exactly what Ogareff wished. He did not expect that the\nBolchaia Gate would be left entirely without defenders, but that there\nwould only be a small number. Besides, Ogareff meant to give such\nimportance to the diversion, that the Grand Duke would be obliged to\noppose it with all his available forces. The traitor planned also to\nproduce so frightful a catastrophe that terror must inevitably overwhelm\nthe hearts of the besieged.\n\nAll day the garrison and population of Irkutsk were on the alert. The\nmeasures to repel an attack on the points hitherto unassailed had\nbeen taken. The Grand Duke and General Voranzoff visited the posts,\nstrengthened by their orders. Wassili Fedor's corps occupied the North\nof the town, but with orders to throw themselves where the danger was\ngreatest. The right bank of the Angara had been protected with the few\nguns possessed by the defenders. With these measures, taken in time,\nthanks to the advice so opportunely given by Ivan Ogareff, there was\ngood reason to hope that the expected attack would be repulsed. In\nthat case the Tartars, momentarily discouraged, would no doubt not\nmake another attempt against the town for several days. Now the troops\nexpected by the Grand Duke might arrive at any hour. The safety or the\nloss of Irkutsk hung only by a thread.\n\nOn this day, the sun which had risen at twenty minutes to six, set at\nforty minutes past five, having traced its diurnal arc for eleven\nhours above the horizon. The twilight would struggle with the night\nfor another two hours. Then it would be intensely dark, for the sky was\ncloudy, and there would be no moon. This gloom would favor the plans of\nIvan Ogareff.\n\nFor a few days already a sharp frost had given warning of the\napproaching rigor of the Siberian winter, and this evening it was\nespecially severe. The Russians posted by the bank of the Angara,\nobliged to conceal their position, lighted no fires. They suffered\ncruelly from the low temperature. A few feet below them, the ice in\nlarge masses drifted down the current. All day these masses had been\nseen passing rapidly between the two banks.\n\nThis had been considered by the Grand Duke and his officers as\nfortunate. Should the channel of the Angara continue to be thus\nobstructed, the passage must be impracticable. The Tartars could use\nneither rafts nor boats. As to their crossing the river on the ice, that\nwas not possible. The newly-frozen plain could not bear the weight of an\nassaulting column.\n\nThis circumstance, as it appeared favorable to the defenders of Irkutsk,\nOgareff might have regretted. He did not do so, however. The traitor\nknew well that the Tartars would not try to pass the Angara, and that,\non its side at least, their attempt was only a feint.\n\nAbout ten in the evening, the state of the river sensibly improved, to\nthe great surprise of the besieged and still more to their disadvantage.\nThe passage till then impracticable, became all at once possible. The\nbed of the Angara was clear. The blocks of ice, which had for some days\ndrifted past in large numbers, disappeared down the current, and five or\nsix only now occupied the space between the banks. The Russian officers\nreported this change in the river to the Grand Duke. They suggested that\nit was probably caused by the circumstance that in some narrower part of\nthe Angara, the blocks had accumulated so as to form a barrier.\n\nWe know this was the case. The passage of the Angara was thus open to\nthe besiegers. There was great reason for the Russians to be on their\nguard.\n\nUp to midnight nothing had occurred. On the Eastern side, beyond the\nBolchaia Gate, all was quiet. Not a glimmer was seen in the dense\nforest, which appeared confounded on the horizon with the masses of\nclouds hanging low down in the sky. Lights flitting to and fro in the\nAngara camp, showed that a considerable movement was taking place. From\na verst above and below the point where the scarp met the river's bank,\ncame a dull murmur, proving that the Tartars were on foot, expecting\nsome signal. An hour passed. Nothing new.\n\nThe bell of the Irkutsk cathedral was about to strike two o'clock in\nthe morning, and not a movement amongst the besiegers had yet shown that\nthey were about to commence the assault. The Grand Duke and his officers\nbegan to suspect that they had been mistaken. Had it really been the\nTartars' plan to surprise the town? The preceding nights had not been\nnearly so quiet--musketry rattling from the outposts, shells whistling\nthrough the air; and this time, nothing. The officers waited, ready to\ngive their orders, according to circumstances.\n\nWe have said that Ogareff occupied a room in the palace. It was a large\nchamber on the ground floor, its windows opening on a side terrace.\nBy taking a few steps along this terrace, a view of the river could be\nobtained.\n\nProfound darkness reigned in the room. Ogareff stood by a window,\nawaiting the hour to act. The signal, of course, could come from him,\nalone. This signal once given, when the greater part of the defenders of\nIrkutsk would be summoned to the points openly attacked, his plan was to\nleave the palace and hurry to the Bolchaia Gate. If it was unguarded, he\nwould open it; or at least he would direct the overwhelming mass of its\nassailants against the few defenders.\n\nHe now crouched in the shadow, like a wild beast ready to spring on\nits prey. A few minutes before two o'clock, the Grand Duke desired\nthat Michael Strogoff--which was the only name they could give to Ivan\nOgareff--should be brought to him. An aide-de-camp came to the room, the\ndoor of which was closed. He called.\n\nOgareff, motionless near the window, and invisible in the shade did not\nanswer. The Grand Duke was therefore informed that the Czar's courier\nwas not at that moment in the palace.\n\nTwo o'clock struck. Now was the time to cause the diversion agreed\nupon with the Tartars, waiting for the assault. Ivan Ogareff opened the\nwindow and stationed himself at the North angle of the side terrace.\n\nBelow him flowed the roaring waters of the Angara. Ogareff took a match\nfrom his pocket, struck it and lighted a small bunch of tow, impregnated\nwith priming powder, which he threw into the river.\n\nIt was by the orders of Ivan Ogareff that the torrents of mineral oil\nhad been thrown on the surface of the Angara! There are numerous\nnaphtha springs above Irkutsk, on the right bank, between the suburb\nof Poshkavsk and the town. Ogareff had resolved to employ this terrible\nmeans to carry fire into Irkutsk. He therefore took possession of the\nimmense reservoirs which contained the combustible liquid. It was only\nnecessary to demolish a piece of wall in order to allow it to flow out\nin a vast stream.\n\nThis had been done that night, a few hours previously, and this was the\nreason that the raft which carried the true Courier of the Czar, Nadia,\nand the fugitives, floated on a current of mineral oil. Through the\nbreaches in these reservoirs of enormous dimensions rushed the naphtha\nin torrents, and, following the inclination of the ground, it spread\nover the surface of the river, where its density allowed it to float.\nThis was the way Ivan Ogareff carried on warfare! Allied with Tartars,\nhe acted like a Tartar, and against his own countrymen!\n\nThe tow had been thrown on the waters of the Angara. In an instant, with\nelectrical rapidity, as if the current had been of alcohol, the whole\nriver was in a blaze above and below the town. Columns of blue flames\nran between the two banks. Volumes of vapor curled up above. The few\npieces of ice which still drifted were seized by the burning liquid, and\nmelted like wax on the top of a furnace, the evaporated water escaping\nin shrill hisses.\n\nAt the same moment, firing broke out on the North and South of the town.\nThe enemy's batteries discharged their guns at random. Several thousand\nTartars rushed to the assault of the earth-works. The houses on the\nbank, built of wood, took fire in every direction. A bright light\ndissipated the darkness of the night.\n\n\"At last!\" said Ivan Ogareff.\n\nHe had good reason for congratulating himself. The diversion which he\nhad planned was terrible. The defenders of Irkutsk found themselves\nbetween the attack of the Tartars and the fearful effects of fire. The\nbells rang, and all the able-bodied of the population ran, some towards\nthe points attacked, and others towards the houses in the grasp of the\nflames, which it seemed too probable would ere long envelop the whole\ntown.\n\nThe Gate of Bolchaia was nearly free. Only a very small guard had been\nleft there. And by the traitor's suggestion, and in order that the event\nmight be explained apart from him, as if by political hate, this small\nguard had been chosen from the little band of exiles.\n\nOgareff re-entered his room, now brilliantly lighted by the flames from\nthe Angara; then he made ready to go out. But scarcely had he opened the\ndoor, when a woman rushed into the room, her clothes drenched, her hair\nin disorder.\n\n\"Sangarre!\" exclaimed Ogareff, in the first moment of surprise, and not\nsupposing that it could be any other woman than the gypsy.\n\nIt was not Sangarre; it was Nadia!\n\nAt the moment when, floating on the ice, the girl had uttered a cry on\nseeing the fire spreading along the current, Michael had seized her in\nhis arms, and plunged with her into the river itself to seek a refuge\nin its depths from the flames. The block which bore them was not thirty\nfathoms from the first quay of Irkutsk.\n\nSwimming beneath the water, Michael managed to get a footing with Nadia\non the quay. Michael Strogoff had reached his journey's end! He was in\nIrkutsk!\n\n\"To the governor's palace!\" said he to Nadia.\n\nIn less than ten minutes, they arrived at the entrance to the palace.\nLong tongues of flame from the Angara licked its walls, but were\npowerless to set it on fire. Beyond the houses on the bank were in a\nblaze.\n\nThe palace being open to all, Michael and Nadia entered without\ndifficulty. In the confusion, no one remarked them, although their\ngarments were dripping. A crowd of officers coming for orders, and of\nsoldiers running to execute them, filled the great hall on the ground\nfloor. There, in a sudden eddy of the confused multitude, Michael and\nthe young girl were separated from each other.\n\nNadia ran distracted through the passages, calling her companion, and\nasking to be taken to the Grand Duke. A door into a room flooded with\nlight opened before her. She entered, and found herself suddenly face to\nface with the man whom she had met at Ichim, whom she had seen at Tomsk;\nface to face with the one whose villainous hand would an instant later\nbetray the town!\n\n\"Ivan Ogareff!\" she cried.\n\nOn hearing his name pronounced, the wretch started. His real name known,\nall his plans would be balked. There was but one thing to be done: to\nkill the person who had just uttered it. Ogareff darted at Nadia; but\nthe girl, a knife in her hand, retreated against the wall, determined to\ndefend herself.\n\n\"Ivan Ogareff!\" again cried Nadia, knowing well that so detested a name\nwould soon bring her help.\n\n\"Ah! Be silent!\" hissed out the traitor between his clenched teeth.\n\n\"Ivan Ogareff!\" exclaimed a third time the brave young girl, in a voice\nto which hate had added ten-fold strength.\n\nMad with fury, Ogareff, drawing a dagger from his belt, again rushed at\nNadia and compelled her to retreat into a corner of the room. Her last\nhope appeared gone, when the villain, suddenly lifted by an irresistible\nforce, was dashed to the ground.\n\n\"Michael!\" cried Nadia.\n\nIt was Michael Strogoff. Michael had heard Nadia's call. Guided by her\nvoice, he had just in time reached Ivan Ogareff's room, and entered by\nthe open door.\n\n\"Fear nothing, Nadia,\" said he, placing himself between her and Ogareff.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the girl, \"take care, brother! The traitor is armed! He can\nsee!\"\n\nOgareff rose, and, thinking he had an immeasurable advantage over the\nblind man leaped upon him. But with one hand, the blind man grasped the\narm of his enemy, seized his weapon, and hurled him again to the ground.\n\nPale with rage and shame, Ogareff remembered that he wore a sword. He\ndrew it and returned a second time to the charge. A blind man! Ogareff\nhad only to deal with a blind man! He was more than a match for him!\n\nNadia, terrified at the danger which threatened her companion ran to the\ndoor calling for help!\n\n\"Close the door, Nadia!\" said Michael. \"Call no one, and leave me alone!\nThe Czar's courier has nothing to fear to-day from this villain! Let him\ncome on, if he dares! I am ready for him.\"\n\nIn the mean time, Ogareff, gathering himself together like a tiger about\nto spring, uttered not a word. The noise of his footsteps, his very\nbreathing, he endeavored to conceal from the ear of the blind man. His\nobject was to strike before his opponent was aware of his approach, to\nstrike him with a deadly blow.\n\nNadia, terrified and at the same time confident, watched this terrible\nscene with involuntary admiration. Michael's calm bearing seemed to have\ninspired her. Michael's sole weapon was his Siberian knife. He did not\nsee his adversary armed with a sword, it is true; but Heaven's support\nseemed to be afforded him. How, almost without stirring, did he always\nface the point of the sword?\n\nIvan Ogareff watched his strange adversary with visible anxiety. His\nsuperhuman calm had an effect upon him. In vain, appealing to his\nreason, did he tell himself that in so unequal a combat all the\nadvantages were on his side. The immobility of the blind man froze him.\nHe had settled on the place where he would strike his victim. He had\nfixed upon it! What, then, hindered him from putting an end to his blind\nantagonist?\n\nAt last, with a spring he drove his sword full at Michael's breast. An\nimperceptible movement of the blind man's knife turned aside the blow.\nMichael had not been touched, and coolly he awaited a second attack.\n\nCold drops stood on Ogareff's brow. He drew back a step, then again\nleaped forward. But as had the first, this second attempt failed. The\nknife had simply parried the blow from the traitor's useless sword.\n\nMad with rage and terror before this living statue, he gazed into the\nwide-open eyes of the blind man. Those eyes which seemed to pierce to\nthe bottom of his soul, and yet which did not, could not, see--exercised\na sort of dreadful fascination over him.\n\nAll at once, Ogareff uttered a cry. A sudden light flashed across his\nbrain. \"He sees!\" he exclaimed, \"he sees!\" And like a wild beast trying\nto retreat into its den, step by step, terrified, he drew back to the\nend of the room.\n\nThen the statue became animated, the blind man walked straight up to\nIvan Ogareff, and placing himself right before him, \"Yes, I see!\" said\nhe. \"I see the mark of the knout which I gave you, traitor and coward! I\nsee the place where I am about to strike you! Defend your life! It is a\nduel I deign to offer you! My knife against your sword!\"\n\n\"He sees!\" said Nadia. \"Gracious Heaven, is it possible!\"\n\nOgareff felt that he was lost. But mustering all his courage, he sprang\nforward on his impassible adversary. The two blades crossed, but at a\ntouch from Michael's knife, wielded in the hand of the Siberian hunter,\nthe sword flew in splinters, and the wretch, stabbed to the heart, fell\nlifeless on the ground.\n\nAt the same moment, the door was thrown open. The Grand Duke,\naccompanied by some of his officers, appeared on the threshold. The\nGrand Duke advanced. In the body lying on the ground, he recognized the\nman whom he believed to be the Czar's courier.\n\nThen, in a threatening voice, \"Who killed that man?\" he asked.\n\n\"I,\" replied Michael.\n\nOne of the officers put a pistol to his temple, ready to fire.\n\n\"Your name?\" asked the Grand Duke, before giving the order for his\nbrains to be blown out.\n\n\"Your Highness,\" answered Michael, \"ask me rather the name of the man\nwho lies at your feet!\"\n\n\"That man, I know him! He is a servant of my brother! He is the Czar's\ncourier!\"\n\n\"That man, your Highness, is not a courier of the Czar! He is Ivan\nOgareff!\"\n\n\"Ivan Ogareff!\" exclaimed the Grand Duke.\n\n\"Yes, Ivan the Traitor!\"\n\n\"But who are you, then?\"\n\n\"Michael Strogoff!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV CONCLUSION\n\nMICHAEL STROGOFF was not, had never been, blind. A purely human\nphenomenon, at the same time moral and physical, had neutralized the\naction of the incandescent blade which Feofar's executioner had passed\nbefore his eyes.\n\nIt may be remembered, that at the moment of the execution, Marfa\nStrogoff was present, stretching out her hands towards her son. Michael\ngazed at her as a son would gaze at his mother, when it is for the last\ntime. The tears, which his pride in vain endeavored to subdue, welling\nup from his heart, gathered under his eyelids, and volatiliz-ing on the\ncornea, had saved his sight. The vapor formed by his tears interposing\nbetween the glowing saber and his eyeballs, had been sufficient to\nannihilate the action of the heat. A similar effect is produced, when a\nworkman smelter, after dipping his hand in vapor, can with impunity hold\nit over a stream of melted iron.\n\nMichael had immediately understood the danger in which he would be\nplaced should he make known his secret to anyone. He at once saw, on\nthe other hand, that he might make use of his supposed blindness for\nthe accomplishment of his designs. Because it was believed that he was\nblind, he would be allowed to go free. He must therefore be blind, blind\nto all, even to Nadia, blind everywhere, and not a gesture at any moment\nmust let the truth be suspected. His resolution was taken. He must risk\nhis life even to afford to all he might meet the proof of his want of\nsight. We know how perfectly he acted the part he had determined on.\n\nHis mother alone knew the truth, and he had whispered it to her in Tomsk\nitself, when bending over her in the dark he covered her with kisses.\n\nWhen Ogareff had in his cruel irony held the Imperial letter before the\neyes which he believed were destroyed, Michael had been able to read,\nand had read the letter which disclosed the odious plans of the traitor.\nThis was the reason of the wonderful resolution he exhibited during\nthe second part of his journey. This was the reason of his unalterable\nlonging to reach Irkutsk, so as to perform his mission by word of mouth.\nHe knew that the town would be betrayed! He knew that the life of the\nGrand Duke was threatened! The safety of the Czar's brother and of\nSiberia was in his hands.\n\nThis story was told in a few words to the Grand Duke, and Michael\nrepeated also--and with what emotion!--the part Nadia had taken in these\nevents.\n\n\"Who is this girl?\" asked the Grand Duke.\n\n\"The daughter of the exile, Wassili Fedor,\" replied Michael.\n\n\"The daughter of Captain Fedor,\" said the Grand Duke, \"has ceased to be\nthe daughter of an exile. There are no longer exiles in Irkutsk.\"\n\nNadia, less strong in joy than she had been in grief, fell on her knees\nbefore the Grand Duke, who raised her with one hand, while he extended\nthe other to Michael.\n\nAn hour after, Nadia was in her father's arms. Michael Strogoff, Nadia,\nand Wassili Fedor were united. This was the height of happiness to them\nall.\n\nThe Tartars had been repulsed in their double attack on the town.\nWassili Fedor, with his little band, had driven back the first\nassailants who presented themselves at the Bolchaia Gate, expecting to\nfind it open and which, by an instinctive feeling, often arising from\nsound judgment, he had determined to remain at and defend.\n\nAt the same time as the Tartars were driven back the besieged had\nmastered the fire. The liquid naphtha having rapidly burnt to the\nsurface of the water, the flames did not go beyond the houses on\nthe shore, and left the other quarters of the town uninjured. Before\ndaybreak the troops of Feofar-Khan had retreated into their camp,\nleaving a large number of dead on and below the ramparts.\n\nAmong the dead was the gypsy Sangarre, who had vainly endeavored to join\nIvan Ogareff.\n\nFor two days the besiegers attempted no fresh assault. They were\ndiscouraged by the death of Ogareff. This man was the mainspring of\nthe invasion, and he alone, by his plots long since contrived, had had\nsufficient influence over the khans and their hordes to bring them to\nthe conquest of Asiatic Russia.\n\nHowever, the defenders of Irkutsk kept on their guard, and the\ninvestment still continued; but on the 7th of October, at daybreak,\ncannon boomed out from the heights around Irkutsk. It was the succoring\narmy under the command of General Kisselef, and it was thus that he made\nknown his welcome arrival to the Grand Duke.\n\nThe Tartars did not wait to be attacked. Not daring to run the risk of a\nbattle under the walls of Irkutsk, they immediately broke up the Angara\ncamp. Irkutsk was at last relieved.\n\nWith the first Russian soldiers, two of Michael's friends entered the\ncity. They were the inseparable Blount and Jolivet. On gaining the right\nbank of the Angara by means of the icy barrier, they had escaped, as had\nthe other fugitives, before the flames had reached their raft. This\nhad been noted by Alcide Jolivet in his book in this way: \"Ran a narrow\nchance of being finished up like a lemon in a bowl of punch!\"\n\nTheir joy was great on finding Nadia and Michael safe and sound; above\nall, when they learnt that their brave companion was not blind. Harry\nBlount inscribed this observation: \"Red-hot iron is insufficient in some\ncases to destroy the sensibility of the optic nerve.\"\n\nThen the two correspondents, settled for a time in Irkutsk, busied\nthemselves in putting the notes and impressions of their journey in\norder. Thence were sent to London and Paris two interesting articles\nrelative to the Tartar invasion, and which--a rare thing--did not\ncontradict each other even on the least important points.\n\nThe remainder of the campaign was unfortunate to the Emir and his\nallies. This invasion, futile as all which attack the Russian Colossus\nmust be, was very fatal to them. They soon found themselves cut off by\nthe Czar's troops, who retook in succession all the conquered towns.\nBesides this, the winter was terrible, and, decimated by the cold, only\na small part of these hordes returned to the steppes of Tartary.\n\nThe Irkutsk road, by way of the Ural Mountains, was now open. The Grand\nDuke was anxious to return to Moscow, but he delayed his journey to be\npresent at a touching ceremony, which took place a few days after the\nentry of the Russian troops.\n\nMichael Strogoff sought Nadia, and in her father's presence said to her,\n\"Nadia, my sister still, when you left Riga to come to Irkutsk, did you\nleave it with any other regret than that for your mother?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Nadia, \"none of any sort whatever.\"\n\n\"Then, nothing of your heart remains there?\"\n\n\"Nothing, brother.\"\n\n\"Then, Nadia,\" said Michael, \"I think that God, in allowing us to meet,\nand to go through so many severe trials together, must have meant us to\nbe united forever.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Nadia, falling into Michael's arms. Then turning towards\nWassili Fedor, \"My father,\" said she, blushing.\n\n\"Nadia,\" said Captain Fedor, \"it will be my joy to call you both my\nchildren!\"\n\nThe marriage ceremony took place in Irkutsk cathedral.\n\nJolivet and Blount very naturally assisted at this marriage, of which\nthey wished to give an account to their readers.\n\n\"And doesn't it make you wish to imitate them?\" asked Alcide of his\nfriend.\n\n\"Pooh!\" said Blount. \"Now if I had a cousin like you--\"\n\n\"My cousin isn't to be married!\" answered Alcide, laughing.\n\n\"So much the better,\" returned Blount, \"for they speak of difficulties\narising between London and Pekin. Have you no wish to go and see what is\ngoing on there?\"\n\n\"By Jove, my dear Blount!\" exclaimed Alcide Jolivet, \"I was just going\nto make the same proposal to you.\"\n\nAnd that was how the two inseparables set off for China.\n\nA few days after the ceremony, Michael and Nadia Strogoff, accompanied\nby Wassili Fedor, took the route to Europe. The road so full of\nsuffering when going, was a road of joy in returning. They traveled\nswiftly, in one of those sleighs which glide like an express train\nacross the frozen steppes of Siberia.\n\nHowever, when they reached the banks of the Dinka, just before Birskoe,\nthey stopped for a while. Michael found the place where he had buried\npoor Nicholas. A cross was erected there, and Nadia prayed a last time\non the grave of the humble and heroic friend, whom neither of them would\never forget.\n\nAt Omsk, old Marfa awaited them in the little house of the Strogoffs.\nShe clasped passionately in her arms the girl whom in her heart she had\nalready a hundred times called \"daughter.\" The brave old Siberian, on\nthat day, had the right to recognize her son and say she was proud of\nhim.\n\nAfter a few days passed at Omsk, Michael and Nadia entered Europe, and,\nWassili Fedor settling down in St. Petersburg, neither his son nor his\ndaughter had any occasion to leave him, except to go and see their old\nmother.\n\nThe young courier was received by the Czar, who attached him specially\nto his own person, and gave him the Cross of St. George. In the course\nof time, Michael Strogoff reached a high station in the Empire. But it\nis not the history of his success, but the history of his trials, which\ndeserves to be related."