, was now open. The Grand
Duke was anxious to return to Moscow, but he delayed his journey to be
present at a touching ceremony, which took place a few days after the
entry of the Russian troops.

Michael Strogoff sought Nadia, and in her father's presence said to her,
"Nadia, my sister still, when you left Riga to come to Irkutsk, did you
leave it with any other regret than that for your mother?"

"No," replied Nadia, "none of any sort whatever."

"Then, nothing of your heart remains there?"

"Nothing, brother."

"Then, Nadia," said Michael, "I think that God, in allowing us to meet,
and to go through so many severe trials together, must have meant us to
be united forever."

"Ah!" said Nadia, falling into Michael's arms. Then turning towards
Wassili Fedor, "My father," said she, blushing.

"Nadia," said Captain Fedor, "it will be my joy to call you both my
children!"

The marriage ceremony took place in Irkutsk cathedral.

Jolivet and Blount very naturally assisted at this marriage, of which
they wished to give an account to their readers.

"And doesn't it make you wish to imitate them?" asked Alcide of his
friend.

"Pooh!" said Blount. "Now if I had a cousin like you--"

"My cousin isn't to be married!" answered Alcide, laughing.

"So much the better," returned Blount, "for they speak of difficulties
arising between London and Pekin. Have you no wish to go and see what is
going on there?"

"By Jove, my dear Blount!" exclaimed Alcide Jolivet, "I was just going
to make the same proposal to you."

And that was how the two inseparables set off for China.

A few days after the ceremony, Michael and Nadia Strogoff, accompanied
by Wassili Fedor, took the route to Europe. The road so full of
suffering when going, was a road of joy in returning. They traveled
swiftly, in one of those sleighs which glide like an express train
across the frozen steppes of Siberia.

However, when they reached the banks of the Dinka, just before Birskoe,
they stopped for a while. Michael found the place where he had buried
poor Nicholas. A cross was erected there, and Nadia prayed a last time
on the grave of the humble and heroic friend, whom neither of them would
ever forget.

At Omsk, old Marfa awaited them in the little house of the Strogoffs.
She clasped passionately in her arms the girl whom in her heart she had
already a hundred times called "daughter." The brave old Siberian, on
that day, had the right to recognize h