"do not blame him! He had a secret. A
secret of which God alone is as yet the judge!"

"And," said Marfa, raising her head and looking at Nadia as though she
would read the depths of her heart, "in that hour of humiliation did you
not despise this Nicholas Korpanoff?"

"I admired without understanding him," replied the girl. "I never felt
him more worthy of respect."

The old woman was silent for a minute.

"Was he tall?" she asked.

"Very tall."

"And very handsome? Come, speak, my daughter."

"He was very handsome," replied Nadia, blushing.

"It was my son! I tell you it was my son!" exclaimed the old woman,
embracing Nadia.

"Your son!" said Nadia amazed, "your son!"

"Come," said Marfa; "let us get to the bottom of this, my child. Your
companion, your friend, your protector had a mother. Did he never speak
to you of his mother?"

"Of his mother?" said Nadia. "He spoke to me of his mother as I spoke to
him of my father--often, always. He adored her."

"Nadia, Nadia, you have just told me about my own son," said the old
woman.

And she added impetuously, "Was he not going to see this mother, whom
you say he loved, in Omsk?"

"No," answered Nadia, "no, he was not."

"Not!" cried Marfa. "You dare to tell me not!"

"I say so: but it remains to me to tell you that from motives which
outweighed everything else, motives which I do not know, I understand
that Nicholas Korpanoff had to traverse the country completely in
secret. To him it was a question of life and death, and still more, a
question of duty and honor."

"Duty, indeed, imperious duty," said the old Siberian, "of those who
sacrifice everything, even the joy of giving a kiss, perhaps the last,
to his old mother. All that you do not know, Nadia--all that I did not
know myself--I now know. You have made me understand everything. But
the light which you have thrown on the mysteries of my heart, I cannot
return on yours. Since my son has not told you his secret, I must keep
it. Forgive me, Nadia; I can never repay what you have done for me."

"Mother, I ask you nothing," replied Nadia.

All was thus explained to the old Siberian, all, even the conduct of her
son with regard to herself in the inn at Omsk. There was no doubt that
the young girl's companion was Michael Strogoff, and that a secret
mission in the invaded country obliged him to conceal his quality of the
Czar's courier.

"Ah, my brave boy!" thought Marfa. "No, I will not betray y