See here, old man," says she, "it is high time Martha was married,
and I have a bridegroom in mind for her. To-morrow morning you must
harness the old mare to the sledge, and put a bit of food together and
be ready to start early, as I'd like to see you back before night."

To Martha she said: "To-morrow you must pack your things in a box, and
put on your best dress to show yourself to your betrothed."

"Who is he?" asked Martha with red cheeks.

"You will know when you see him," said the stepmother.

All that night Martha hardly slept. She could hardly believe that she
was really going to escape from the old woman at last, and have a hut
of her own, where there would be no one to scold her. She wondered who
the young man was. She hoped he was Fedor Ivanovitch, who had such
kind eyes, and such nimble fingers on the balalaika, and such a merry
way of flinging out his heels when he danced the Russian dance. But
although he always smiled at her when they met, she felt she hardly
dared to hope that it was he. Early in the morning she got up and said
her prayers to God, put the whole hut in order, and packed her things
into a little box. That was easy, because she had such few things. It
was the other daughters who had new dresses. Any old thing was good
enough for Martha. But she put on her best blue dress, and there she
was, as pretty a little maid as ever walked under the birch trees in
spring.

The old man harnessed the mare to the sledge and brought it to the
door. The snow was very deep and frozen hard, and the wind peeled the
skin from his ears before he covered them with the flaps of his fur
hat.

"Sit down at the table and have a bite before you go," says the old
woman.

The old man sat down, and his daughter with him, and drank a glass of
tea and ate some black bread. And the old woman put some cabbage soup,
left from the day before, in a saucer, and said to Martha, "Eat this,
my little pigeon, and get ready for the road." But when she said "my
little pigeon," she did not smile with her eyes, but only with her
cruel mouth, and Martha was afraid. The old woman whispered to the old
man: "I have a word for you, old fellow. You will take Martha to her
betrothed, and I'll tell you the way. You go straight along, and then
take the road to the right into the forest ... you know ... straight
to the big fir tree that stands on a hillock, and there you will give
Martha to her betrothed and leave her. He will be waiti