e roubles still, and my eyes! I can see for you, Michael; and
I will lead you thither, where you could not go alone!"

"And how shall we go?"

"On foot."

"And how shall we live?"

"By begging."

"Let us start, Nadia."

"Come, Michael."

The two young people no longer kept the names "brother" and "sister."
In their common misfortune, they felt still closer united. They left
the house after an hour's repose. Nadia had procured in the town some
morsels of "tchornekhleb," a sort of barley bread, and a little mead,
called "meod" in Russia. This had cost her nothing, for she had already
begun her plan of begging. The bread and mead had in some degree
appeased Michael's hunger and thirst. Nadia gave him the lion's share
of this scanty meal. He ate the pieces of bread his companion gave him,
drank from the gourd she held to his lips.

"Are you eating, Nadia?" he asked several times.

"Yes, Michael," invariably replied the young girl, who contented herself
with what her companion left.

Michael and Nadia quitted Semilowskoe, and once more set out on the
laborious road to Irkutsk. The girl bore up in a marvelous way against
fatigue. Had Michael seen her, perhaps he would not have had the courage
to go on. But Nadia never complained, and Michael, hearing no sigh,
walked at a speed he was unable to repress. And why? Did he still expect
to keep before the Tartars? He was on foot, without money; he was blind,
and if Nadia, his only guide, were to be separated from him, he could
only lie down by the side of the road and there perish miserably.
But if, on the other hand, by energetic perseverance he could reach
Krasnoiarsk, all was perhaps not lost, since the governor, to whom he
would make himself known, would not hesitate to give him the means of
reaching Irkutsk.

Michael walked on, speaking little, absorbed in his own thoughts. He
held Nadia's hand. The two were in incessant communication. It seemed
to them that they had no need of words to exchange their thoughts. From
time to time Michael said, "Speak to me, Nadia."

"Why should I, Michael? We are thinking together!" the young girl
would reply, and contrived that her voice should not betray her extreme
fatigue.

But sometimes, as if her heart had ceased to beat for an instant, her
limbs tottered, her steps flagged, her arms fell to her sides, she
dropped behind. Michael then stopped, he fixed his eyes on the poor
girl, as though he would try to pierce the gloom