d so long together. When
her son left her, he went away with a full heart, but promising to come
and see her whenever he could possibly do so; and this promise he had
always religiously kept.

When Michael was twenty, it was decided that he should enter the
personal service of the Emperor of Russia, in the corps of the couriers
of the Czar. The hardy, intelligent, zealous, well-conducted young
Siberian first distinguished himself especially, in a journey to the
Caucasus, through the midst of a difficult country, ravaged by some
restless successors of Schamyl; then later, in an important mission
to Petropolowski, in Kamtschatka, the extreme limit of Asiatic Russia.
During these long journeys he displayed such marvelous coolness,
prudence, and courage, as to gain him the approbation and protection of
his chiefs, who rapidly advanced him in his profession.

The furloughs which were his due after these distant missions, he never
failed to devote to his old mother. Having been much employed in the
south of the empire, he had not seen old Marfa for three years--three
ages!--the first time in his life he had been so long absent from her.
Now, however, in a few days he would obtain his furlough, and he had
accordingly already made preparations for departure for Omsk, when the
events which have been related occurred. Michael Strogoff was therefore
introduced into the Czar's presence in complete ignorance of what the
emperor expected from him.

The Czar fixed a penetrating look upon him without uttering a word,
whilst Michael stood perfectly motionless.

The Czar, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, motioned to the chief
of police to seat himself, and dictated in a low voice a letter of not
more than a few lines.

The letter penned, the Czar re-read it attentively, then signed it,
preceding his name with the words "Byt po semou," which, signifying "So
be it," constitutes the decisive formula of the Russian emperors.

The letter was then placed in an envelope, which was sealed with the
imperial arms.

The Czar, rising, told Michael Strogoff to draw near.

Michael advanced a few steps, and then stood motionless, ready to
answer.

The Czar again looked him full in the face and their eyes met. Then in
an abrupt tone, "Thy name?" he asked.

"Michael Strogoff, sire."

"Thy rank?"

"Captain in the corps of couriers of the Czar."

"Thou dost know Siberia?"

"I am a Siberian."

"A native of?"

"Omsk, sire."

"