I must indeed!" replied Nicholas. "The wire is no doubt still working
between Oudinsk and Irkutsk, and there--Shall we start, little father?"

"Let us wait till to-morrow," answered Michael.

"You are right," said Nicholas. "We have the Yenisei to cross, and need
light to see our way there!"

"To see!" murmured Nadia, thinking of her blind companion.

Nicholas heard her, and turning to Michael, "Forgive me, little father,"
said he. "Alas! night and day, it is true, are all the same to you!"

"Do not reproach yourself, friend," replied Michael, pressing his hand
over his eyes. "With you for a guide I can still act. Take a few hours'
repose. Nadia must rest too. To-morrow we will recommence our journey!"

Michael and his friends had not to search long for a place of rest. The
first house, the door of which they pushed open, was empty, as well as
all the others. Nothing could be found within but a few heaps of leaves.
For want of better fodder the horse had to content himself with
this scanty nourishment. The provisions of the kibitka were not yet
exhausted, so each had a share. Then, after having knelt before a small
picture of the Panaghia, hung on the wall, and still lighted up by a
flickering lamp, Nicholas and the young girl slept, whilst Michael, over
whom sleep had no influence, watched.

Before daybreak the next morning, the 26th of August, the horse was
drawing the kibitka through the forests of birch trees towards the banks
of the Yenisei. Michael was in much anxiety. How was he to cross the
river, if, as was probable, all boats had been destroyed to retard the
Tartars' march? He knew the Yenisei, its width was considerable, its
currents strong. Ordinarily by means of boats specially built for the
conveyance of travelers, carriages, and horses, the passage of the
Yenisei takes about three hours, and then it is with extreme difficulty
that the boats reach the opposite bank. Now, in the absence of any
ferry, how was the kibitka to get from one bank to the other?

Day was breaking when the kibitka reached the left bank, where one of
the wide alleys of the park ended. They were about a hundred feet above
the Yenisei, and could therefore survey the whole of its wide course.

"Do you see a boat?" asked Michael, casting his eyes eagerly about from
one side to the other, mechanically, no doubt, as if he could really
see.

"It is scarcely light yet, brother," replied Nadia. "The fog is still
thick, and we cannot