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only equaled by the young girl's devotion. Their opinion of Michael was
exactly what the Czar had expressed at Moscow: "Indeed, this is a Man!"
The raft swiftly threaded its way among the blocks of ice which were
carried along in the current of the Angara. A moving panorama was displayed on
both sides of the river, and, by an optical illusion, it appeared as if it was
the raft which was motionless before a succession of picturesque scenes. Here
were high granite cliffs, there wild gorges, down which rushed a torrent;
sometimes appeared a clearing with a still smoking village, then thick pine
forests blazing. But though the Tartars had left their traces on all sides,
they themselves were not to be seen as yet, for they were more especially
massed at the approaches to Irkutsk.
All this time the pilgrims were repeating their prayers aloud, and the
old boatman, shoving away the blocks of ice which pressed too near them,
imperturbably steered the raft in the middle of the rapid current of the
Angara.
Chapter XI.
Between Two Banks
Page 99
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
B y eight in the evening, the country, as the state of the sky had
foretold, was enveloped in complete darkness. The moon being new had not yet
risen. From the middle of the river the banks were invisible. The cliffs were
confounded with the heavy, low-hanging clouds. At intervals a puff of wind
came from the east, but it soon died away in the narrow valley of the Angara.
The darkness could not fail to favor in a considerable degree the plans
of the fugitives. Indeed, although the Tartar outposts must have been drawn up
on both banks, the raft had a good chance of passing unperceived. It was not
likely either that the besiegers would have barred the river above Irkutsk,
since they knew that the Russians could not expect any help from the south of
the province. Besides this, before long Nature would herself establish a
barrier, by cementing with frost the blocks of ice accumulated between the two
banks.
Perfect silence now reigned on board the raft. The voices of the pilgrims
were no longer heard. They still prayed, but their prayer was but a murmur,
which could not reach as far as either bank. The fugitives lay flat on the
platform, so that the raft was scarcely above the level of the water. The old
boatman crouched down forward among his men, solely occupied in keeping off
the ice blocks, a maneuver which was performed without noise.
The drifting of the ice was a favorable circumstance so long as it did
not offer an insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the raft. If that
object had been alone on the water, it would have run a risk of being seen,
even in the darkness, but, as it was, it was confounded with these moving
masses, of all shapes and sizes, and the tumult caused by the crashing of the
blocks against each other concealed likewise any suspicious noises.
There was a sharp frost. The fugitives suffered cruelly, having no other
shelter than a few branches of birch. They cowered down together, endeavoring
to keep each other warm, the temperature being now ten degrees below freezing
point. The wind, though slight, having passed over the snow-clad mountains of
the east, pierced them through and through.
Michael and Nadia, lying in the afterpart of the raft, bore this increase
of suffering without complaint. Jolivet and Blount, placed near them, stood
these first assaults of the Siberian winter as well as they could. No one now
spoke, even in a low voice. Their situation entirely absorbed them. At any
moment an incident might occur, which they could not escape unscathed.
For a man who hoped soon to accomplish his mission, Michael was
singularly calm. Even in the gravest conjunctures, his energy had never
abandoned him. He already saw the moment when he would be at last allowed to
think of his mother, of Nadia, of himself! He now only dreaded one final
unhappy chance; this was, that the raft might be completely barred by ice
before reaching Irkutsk. He thought but of this, determined beforehand, if
necessary, to attempt some bold stroke.
Restored by a few hours' rest, Nadia had regained the physical energy
which misery had sometimes overcome, although without ever having shaken her
moral energy. She thought, too, that if Michael had to make any fresh effort
to attain his end, she must be there to guide him. But in proportion as she
drew nearer to Irkutsk, the image of her father rose more and more clearly
before her mind. She saw him in the invested town, far from those he loved,
but, as she never doubted, struggling against the invaders with all the spirit
of his patriotism. In a few hours, if Heaven favored them, she would be in his
arms, giving him her mother's last words, and nothing should ever separate
them again. If the term of Wassili Fedor's exile should never come to an end,
his daughter would remain exiled with him. Then, by a natural transition, she
came back to him who would have enabled her to see her father once more, to
that generous companion, that "brother," who, the Tartars driven back, would
retake the road to Moscow, whom she would perhaps never meet again!
As to Alcide Jolivet and Harry Blount, they had one and the same thought,
which was, that the situation was extremely dramatic, and that, well worked
up, it would furnish a most deeply interesting article. The Englishman thought
of the readers of the Daily Telegraph, and the Frenchman of those of his
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