ou, and
tortures shall not wrest from me the avowal that it was you whom I saw
at Omsk."

Marfa could with a word have paid Nadia for all her devotion to her. She
could have told her that her companion, Nicholas Korpanoff, or rather
Michael Strogoff, had not perished in the waters of the Irtych, since
it was some days after that incident that she had met him, that she had
spoken to him.

But she restrained herself, she was silent, and contented herself with
saying, "Hope, my child! Misfortune will not overwhelm you. You will see
your father again; I feel it; and perhaps he who gave you the name of
sister is not dead. God cannot have allowed your brave companion to
perish. Hope, my child, hope! Do as I do. The mourning which I wear is
not yet for my son."

CHAPTER III BLOW FOR BLOW

SUCH were now the relative situations of Marfa Strogoff and Nadia.
All was understood by the old Siberian, and though the young girl was
ignorant that her much-regretted companion still lived, she at least
knew his relationship to her whom she had made her mother; and she
thanked God for having given her the joy of taking the place of the son
whom the prisoner had lost.

But what neither of them could know was that Michael, having been
captured at Kolyvan, was in the same convoy and was on his way to Tomsk
with them.

The prisoners brought by Ivan Ogareff had been added to those already
kept by the Emir in the Tartar camp. These unfortunate people,
consisting of Russians, Siberians, soldiers and civilians, numbered some
thousands, and formed a column which extended over several versts. Some
among them being considered dangerous were handcuffed and fastened to
a long chain. There were, too, women and children, many of the latter
suspended to the pommels of the saddles, while the former were dragged
mercilessly along the road on foot, or driven forward as if they were
animals. The horsemen compelled them to maintain a certain order, and
there were no laggards with the exception of those who fell never to
rise again.

In consequence of this arrangement, Michael Strogoff, marching in the
first ranks of those who had left the Tartar camp--that is to say, among
the Kolyvan prisoners--was unable to mingle with the prisoners who had
arrived after him from Omsk. He had therefore no suspicion that his
mother and Nadia were present in the convoy, nor did they suppose
that he was among those in front. This journey from the camp to Tomsk,
p