from her brother. But I cannot to-day. Fatigue and
sorrow have broken me."

"Will you go and rest in your cabin?" asked Michael Strogoff.

"Yes--yes; and to-morrow--"

"Come then--"

He hesitated to finish his sentence, as if he had wished to end it by
the name of his companion, of which he was still ignorant.

"Nadia," said she, holding out her hand.

"Come, Nadia," answered Michael, "and make what use you like of your
brother Nicholas Korpanoff." And he led the girl to the cabin engaged
for her off the saloon.

Michael Strogoff returned on deck, and eager for any news which might
bear on his journey, he mingled in the groups of passengers, though
without taking any part in the conversation. Should he by any chance
be questioned, and obliged to reply, he would announce himself as the
merchant Nicholas Korpanoff, going back to the frontier, for he did
not wish it to be suspected that a special permission authorized him to
travel to Siberia.

The foreigners in the steamer could evidently speak of nothing but the
occurrences of the day, of the order and its consequences. These poor
people, scarcely recovered from the fatigue of a journey across Central
Asia, found themselves obliged to return, and if they did not give loud
vent to their anger and despair, it was because they dared not. Fear,
mingled with respect, restrained them. It was possible that inspectors
of police, charged with watching the passengers, had secretly embarked
on board the Caucasus, and it was just as well to keep silence;
expulsion, after all, was a good deal preferable to imprisonment in a
fortress. Therefore the men were either silent, or spoke with so much
caution that it was scarcely possible to get any useful information.

Michael Strogoff thus could learn nothing here; but if mouths were often
shut at his approach--for they did not know him--his ears were soon
struck by the sound of one voice, which cared little whether it was
heard or not.

The man with the hearty voice spoke Russian, but with a French accent;
and another speaker answered him more reservedly. "What," said the
first, "are you on board this boat, too, my dear fellow; you whom I
met at the imperial fete in Moscow, and just caught a glimpse of at
Nijni-Novgorod?"

"Yes, it's I," answered the second drily.

"Really, I didn't expect to be so closely followed."

"I am not following you sir; I am preceding you."

"Precede! precede! Let us march abreast, keeping step