which surrounded him;
his breast heaved; then, supporting his companion more than before, he
started on afresh.

However, amidst these continual miseries, a fortunate circumstance on
that day occurred which it appeared likely would considerably ease
their fatigue. They had been walking from Semilowskoe for two hours when
Michael stopped.

"Is there no one on the road?"

"Not a single soul," replied Nadia.

"Do you not hear some noise behind us? If they are Tartars we must hide.
Keep a good look-out!"

"Wait, Michael!" replied Nadia, going back a few steps to where the road
turned to the right.

Michael Strogoff waited alone for a minute, listening attentively.

Nadia returned almost immediately and said, "It is a cart. A young man
is leading it."

"Is he alone?"

"Alone."

Michael hesitated an instant. Should he hide? or should he, on the
contrary, try to find a place in the vehicle, if not for himself, at
least for her? For himself, he would be quite content to lay one hand
on the cart, to push it if necessary, for his legs showed no sign of
failing him; but he felt sure that Nadia, compelled to walk ever since
they crossed the Obi, that is, for eight days, must be almost exhausted.
He waited.

The cart was soon at the corner of the road. It was a very dilapidated
vehicle, known in the country as a kibitka, just capable of holding
three persons. Usually the kibitka is drawn by three horses, but this
had but one, a beast with long hair and a very long tail. It was of the
Mongol breed, known for strength and courage.

A young man was leading it, with a dog beside him. Nadia saw at once
that the young man was Russian; his face was phlegmatic, but pleasant,
and at once inspired confidence. He did not appear to be in the
slightest hurry; he was not walking fast that he might spare his
horse, and, to look at him, it would not have been believed that he was
following a road which might at any instant be swarming with Tartars.

Nadia, holding Michael by the hand, made way for the vehicle. The
kibitka stopped, and the driver smilingly looked at the young girl.

"And where are you going to in this fashion?" he asked, opening wide his
great honest eyes.

At the sound of his voice, Michael said to himself that he had heard it
before. And it was satisfactory to him to recognize the man for his brow
at once cleared.

"Well, where are you going?" repeated the young man, addressing himself
more directly to Mich