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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76597-0.txt b/76597-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f97e691 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5441 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76597 *** + + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + + +[Illustration: HE LAID HIS HAND ON HER HEART.] + + + + IN THE HOLLOW + + OF HIS HAND + + + BY + + HESBA STRETTON + + AUTHOR OF + + "JESSICA'S FIRST PRAYER," "ALONE IN LONDON," + "BEDE'S CHARITY," ETC., ETC. + + + + LONDON + THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY + 4 BOUVERIE STREET AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD + + + + PREFACE + + [Illustration] + + THE most extraordinary and inexplicable phase of Christianity is the +persecution of Christians by Christians. Persecution is absolutely +opposed to the nature and teaching of the Lord, who said to His +disciples, when they desired to call down fire from heaven on the +Samaritans who refused them hospitality, "Ye know not what manner of +spirit ye are of. For the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's +lives, but to save them." + + In my former story, "The Highway of Sorrow," I attempted to set forth +the religious principles of the Stundist men, and their steadfast +courage in maintaining them. I have received a letter from Russia +saying that this narrative "is true to fact." "In the Hollow of His +Hand" endeavours to show the bitter sufferings of women and children in +the storm of persecution now raging in Russia. The latest suggestion +made for the complete stamping out of Stundism is that all children +should be taken from their Stundist parents and brought up in the +Orthodox Church. When this was done, in the Middle Ages, to the Jews +in Spain, many parents adopted the awful alternative of slaying their +children. + + In writing both stories I have drawn largely from two sources. One +is a pamphlet, called "The Stundists: the Story of a Great Religious +Revolt," published in 1893 by James Clarke & Co. The other is a most +valuable work, entitled "Siberia and the Exile System," by George +Kennan, from whose volumes I have drawn many of the details of the +protracted journey to Eastern Siberia. Both of these stories are +sorrowful, but they are true. And I would earnestly ask my readers to +ponder over the words of our Lord, "Blessed are ye, when men shall +revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against +you falsely, for My sake. 'Rejoice,' and be 'exceeding glad:' for great +is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which +were before you." + + This blessing the Stundists realise. + + HESBA STRETTON. + + 1897. + + + + CONTENTS + + [Illustration] + +CHAP. + + I. THE SCOTCH COVENANTERS + + II. THE RUSSIAN STUNDISTS + + III. AT HOME + + IV. ESTRANGED FRIENDS + + V. IN THE FOREST + + VI. THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE + + VII. FATHER CYRIL + + VIII. A CRUEL BLOW + + IX. ORTHODOX REASONING + + X. MOTHERS AND CHILDREN + + XI. A HARD WINTER + + XII. A FRIENDLY JAILER + + XIII. DENYING THE FAITH + + XIV. LITTLE CLAVA + + XV. BLESSING THE HERETICS + + XVI. IN KOVYLSK. + + XVII. FATHER CYRIL'S LETTER + + XVIII. THE FORWARDING PRISON + + XIX. THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD + + XX. SERGIUS + + XXI. MARFA'S FUNERAL + + XXII. THE PRISON HOSPITAL + + XXIII. MONTH AFTER MONTH + + XXIV. THE EXILES' BEGGING SONG + + XXV. SLEEP AND DEATH + + XXVI. THE END OF THE JOURNEY + + XXVII. DEMYAN'S TIDINGS + + XXVIII. THE SEED OF THE CHURCH + + XXIX. A YOKE OF BONDAGE + + XXX. VELIA'S TYRANTS + + XXXI. RESCUED + + XXXII. A LETTER PROM SIBERIA + + + + IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HAND + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER I + +THE SCOTCH COVENANTERS + +"BEHOLD, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye +therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." + +The boy who was reading in a clear, low voice, though with a foreign +accent, felt the pressure of his mother's feeble hands, and lifted up +his eyes to her white and placid face. He was kneeling beside her bed, +and she pushed back the thick curls of his brown hair, and looked with +a very tender gaze into his frank, boyish face. + +"That's true, my laddie," she said; "true for you, but not for me. +He calls me home, but He sends your father and you forth as sheep in +the midst of wolves. Ah! The Lord Jesus knew; and He knows now. Never +think He's away, and not minding your troubles. You'll go back to your +father, when I'm gone home—not to Knishi, never again to Knishi. Oh, if +I'd only known, I'd have gone home to heaven from there!" + +The feeble, gasping voice ceased for a minute or two. But the mother's +eyes still rested fondly and anxiously on her boy. + +"And, oh, my Michael," she said, "be wise! Don't anger the neighbours +more than you can help. You're only a boy yet, and they'll leave you +alone if you keep quiet. Be 'harmless as doves,' says our Lord." + +"But you wouldn't have me a coward, mother," answered the boy somewhat +hotly. + +"Me, Michael? Me?" she cried, a faint colour flushing her pallid +face. "No, no! Weren't my ain forebears among the Covenanters? Both +on father's and mother's sides! Didn't they suffer the loss o' all +things—eh! and die for conscience' sake? Nay, Michael, I'd send you +to death, if need be, for the truth. But it's hard to think of young +little ones having to suffer cruelly because their parents must act +according to their conscience. Oh, my Michael! And my little Velia!" + +She sank back on her pillows with closed eyelids, through which the +tears were slowing oozing. Michael did not go on with his reading. They +were both thinking of the last twelve months, when Catherine Ivanoff +had left her Russian home to try if her native air in Scotland would +restore her health. Michael had accompanied her, being old enough to +be a help and comfort to her during the long voyage from Odessa to +Glasgow, and through her sojourn among her own kinsfolk. It had been on +the whole a happy year, filled at first with delusive hopes. But all +hope was gone now. She would never be able to bear the voyage and the +inland journey homewards. + +Her brother's house, where she lay dying, was a small Scotch farm, not +unlike the homestead she had left in Russia. She lay still, thinking +longingly of it now. The thick walls of dried mud, with their deep +window-sills; the large house-place, with its oak table, and oak +benches standing along the walls, which she had kept beautifully +polished; the huge stove, which seemed to fill half the room; and the +great barns and stables built round the fold-yard. Oh, if she had only +been there now!—dying in the little bedroom which opened out of the +roomy house-place, where she could watch her husband going to and fro, +and have her little Velia in her sight. Her house in Knishi had been +the best in the village, almost equal to the church-house; and she had +cherished a secret pride in it. The garden on the eastern side was even +better than the priest's garden, for her husband as well as herself +took great pleasure in it. It was already near the end of February; and +the snow would be melting, and the buds swelling on the fruit-trees, +and the earliest flowers pushing their first shoots through the moist +earth. Oh, how happy she and her husband had been in Knishi! + +It was eight years since they had gone there, with their two young +children, to rent a farm belonging to her husband's cousin, Paul +Rodenko, who had been exiled to Siberia for holding fast to his +Stundist faith. A sharp outbreak of persecution had taken place, +during which three of the leading Stundists had been imprisoned—one +of them dying in prison. And the mother of Paul Rodenko had fallen a +martyr to the uncurbed violence of a mob. There had been some official +inquiries into the cause of her death. And though no one was punished, +the peasants, after their wild excess of savagery, were ashamed of the +crime. + +Since then the Stundists had been unmolested, left very much to +themselves, and practically cut off from all village intercourse. +Alexis Ivanoff was their presbyter; and though they had no stated +hour or place of worship, it was well-known they maintained their own +religious views. + +Alexis Ivanoff's letters to his wife told her that this tranquil state +of affairs showed signs of coming to an end. Although there was a good +and kind-hearted priest, Father Cyril, appointed in the place of the +old Batoushka, who had fomented the persecution eight years ago, there +were symptoms of hard times coming for the Stundists. The Starosta, who +was the chief layman in the village, was a fierce bigot and a churlish +miser; and it lay in his power to injure those whom he disliked. +Already Alexis had been compelled to pay sundry fines for himself and +his poorer fellow Stundists; and the exactions were increasing. It was +no use appealing to any court of law against these unjust and vexatious +taxes; were they not Stundists? But he hoped the oppression would be +confined to monetary forfeits. + + "I would send Velia to you out of the way," he wrote, "if I thought +Okhrim would do more than tax us unjustly. But he is fond of money, and +will be content to fleece us; when the sheep are slain, there is no +more to be gained. Velia is the treasure I value most—my only earthly +joy, now you and Michael are away. Yet, if the Lord required it, you +and I would give up our children, precious as they are. My Catherine, +this life is only a journey, and a short one at the longest. What +matters it if we come to the end soon, or travel on a little longer? If +we walk in smooth paths or rough ones? Let us work while it is called +to-day; 'the night cometh when no man can work.' And at nightfall we go +home and rest with our beloved ones." + +This was his last letter. It lay under her pillow. + +Michael had risen from his knees beside his mother, and gone to the +little lattice window, through which he could see the distant mountains +still capped with snow. Below the house lay a pleasant valley, which +had been the resort of the Covenanters in times long gone by, when they +must needs worship God in secret. In the room below, on one side of +the wide, old open hearth, there was a little closet four feet square, +cunningly contrived behind the wainscot, where many a time godly men +had hidden whilst their persecutors searched the homely farmstead for +them, or sat round the fire cursing their fruitless efforts. The whole +place and neighbourhood were full of legends of the Covenanters, and +Michael had heard of them, and listened to them with avidity, for the +last twelve months. + +He was longing to be home again with his father and Velia, especially +now when there was a threatening of renewed oppression. He loved +his fatherland, Russia, with a boy's hot patriotism. He had fretted +inwardly at his long exile, though he fancied he had concealed his +home-sickness successfully from his mother. It would soon be over +now, and the tears fell fast down his cheeks. For it was only when +his beloved mother passed through the gates of death, already opening +slowly before her, that he could be free to hasten away home. + +"Michael!" cried his mother in a strong and happy voice. + +He sprang towards her. + +She had half-raised herself in bed, and her face was full of radiant +gladness, such as he had never seen before. + +"I'm dying! And it's beautiful!" she said. "Tell your father death is +beautiful! And I'm not alone—no, not alone!" + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE RUSSIAN STUNDISTS + +THREE weeks later Michael set out on his return home in a vessel +sailing from Glasgow to Odessa. Sandy Gordon, his uncle, accompanied +him to Glasgow, loath to part with the boy who had become very dear to +his Scotch kindred. They urged him to stay with them, but he could not +bear the thought of it. His home-sickness had greatly increased since +his mother's death, and he had an intense longing to be once more in +his own country, to cross the limitless steppes, and taste again the +spring breezes full of the scent of flowers. He pined for the familiar +sound of his own language, and the songs in which his people delighted. +And underneath this natural love of his own country lay a boy's desire +to share with his father and sister any perils which might be hanging +over them. + +"No, Uncle Sandy," he said, with his arms round Sandy Gordon's neck, +and his brown head resting on his uncle's grizzled hair, "no! I'm a +Russian, and I ought to live in my own country, and help my own people." + +"And if they send your father to Siberia, my laddie," said Sandy +Gordon, "as they did his cousin Paul Rodenko, what will you and Velia +do then?" + +"We'll do what father says," answered Michael; "if he goes, I shall +want to go too. But there is little Velia! Father must settle for us. +She's a tender little thing is Velia." + +"My lad," said Sandy earnestly, "remember there's always a home for +you and Velia here with us. For Catherine's sake—and your own sake, +Michael—you'll be welcome. And there's one of your own kin in Odessa, +a well-to-do man, dealing in corn, John Gordon by name. In any trouble +think of him, my boy; and he'll help you, for he has the means and the +will." + +Sandy Gordon gave Michael a letter addressed to his kinsman in Odessa, +to be delivered between leaving the port and reaching the railway +station of the line which was to carry him to about fifty miles from +Knishi, the village where his home had been since his early childhood, +and where his father was to meet him. It seemed to him an almost +intolerable interruption to stay some hours in Odessa, but the elderly +merchant was pleased with the boy, and with the news he brought from +Scotland. He promised to be ready with any help he could give, if the +troubles anticipated by Alexis Ivanoff should break out. + +The short spring-tide of Russia was in its fullest beauty when Michael +reached the railway station, where his father was to meet him with a +telega, and the old mare whom he had so often fed. The past winter +with its bitter winds was already forgotten, and the scorching heat +of summer lurked still in the future. The boy's heart was torn with +conflicting emotions. His mother's death still filled it with profound +grief, but the joy of coming home again to his father and Velia was as +strong as his sorrow. He had felt no fatigue from his long and tedious +journey, and though his heart leaped at the sound of the Russian tongue +spoken by all about him, he had sat almost speechless, and absorbed in +memories, during the many hours since he had left Odessa. + +His father was standing by the telega, outside the barrier, a tall, +strong, middle-aged man, with a grave and handsome face, and a +dignified carriage, very unlike the uncouth and rough aspect of most +Russian farmers. He had the look of a leader among men. Michael +recognised it for the first time, and he felt a new sensation of pride +in him. When he left home a year before, he did not understand all +his father was as a man. But in Scotland, having his mind filled with +stories of the unconquerable courage of the Covenanters, who defied the +power of king and soldiers when they sought to interfere with freedom +of conscience, he discovered that his father was such a man as they had +been. Now he saw it with his eyes. + +He threw himself into his father's arms, and felt his kisses mingled +with hot tears falling from his father's eyes. The thought of the lost +wife and mother, who had been buried so far away from them, was in both +of their minds. Silently they got into the telega, and drove away from +the noisy crowd gathered about the station. + +Everything about him seemed so new, yet so familiar to Michael, that +he felt that it must be a dream, one of those many dreams of Russia +that had haunted his sleep whilst he had been in Scotland. His father +sitting silent beside him, the noisy creaking of the cart-wheels, which +might be heard half a mile off, the jolting over the rough road, the +slow jog-trot of the old mare—were these real? Or would he awake by and +by, and find himself gazing out down the gentle valley under his window +at his uncle's farmhouse? + +Presently there was nothing to be seen around them but leagues upon +leagues of apparently level land, with an unbroken horizon lying low, +like the sky-line at sea. Wherever the ground could be cultivated, a +brilliant yet delicate green carpeted the rich brown soil, showing the +young corn, which would soon be waving under the summer sun. In the +untilled portions of the plain, innumerable flowers were in blossom, +and butterflies and bees fluttered in clouds above them. The cry of +the curlew that loves lonely places followed them mile after mile. Not +a barn or a dwelling was visible in all the vast expanse. The father +and son drove on in almost unbroken silence, only speaking a word or +two now and then. There was so much to say that they knew not where to +begin. At length a soft, gentle breeze just touched Michael's cheek, +which seemed to him as if his mother had kissed it. + +"Father," he said, looking up into the sad yet serene face beside him, +"my mother told me to tell you death is beautiful! And her face said it +too; it was full of gladness. Yes, until we laid her in the coffin." + +"Thank God!" said Alexis Ivanoff, lifting up his eyes to the cloudless +sky above them. "I praise Thee, O Lord, that Thou halt taken her away +from the troubles to come. She was too tender to bear them. We men, +Michael, can bear hardness as soldiers of our Lord Christ, but when we +think of our women and children—it is that which breaks our hearts." + +The boy's whole frame thrilled with delight as his father uttered the +words, "We men." Then he was no longer to be considered a child; this +was a summons to enter the ranks of manhood. He was ready to obey the +call, and eager to endure hardships. Yet, as if he were already a man, +the moment of delight was quickly followed by a sharp sense of dread +piercing him, as he recollected Velia, his little sister, who must +share whatever sorrows and perils befell them. How was it he had never +experienced this vague terror before? Was it because he was almost a +man? + +"But could not God save us?" he asked after a while. + +"What do you mean by being saved?" inquired his father. + +Michael did not answer immediately. He meant that God should give +them the freedom of conscience, and liberty to worship as they +believed best, for which the Scotch Covenanters had fought so long +and so stubbornly. But he knew the tenets of the Stundists forbade +all resistance by force, and taught simple submission to authority in +everything, except coercion in religious matters. Moreover, he had seen +too much of life in Scotland to be able to convince himself that the +Scotch, as a people, were saved. Had he not seen drunkenness there as +bad as in Russia? Were there not lying and dishonesty and quarrelling, +and all the long list of sins which he ran through in his mind? + +"I cannot tell what I mean," he said at last. + +"Christ came to save us from our sins," answered his father, "not from +sorrow. 'In the world ye shall have tribulation,' He said; and the +history of His people has been the same through all generations, and +in all countries. The Church has always been built on the graves of +the martyrs. As we beat out the grain from the straw with our flails, +stroke after stroke, so will the world smite us. But God will gather +His corn into His granary; not one grain lost, only the chaff left. The +flail is the world, my son, but God's hand holds it." + +"Are they beginning the persecution, father?" asked Michael. + +"It has never ceased," answered Alexis, "but now it is growing hotter. +Okhrim has been made Starosta in Savely's room, and there is not a +harder or more cruel man in all Knishi. Father Cyril can do little to +control him. He is a saint and a Christian, our Batoushka, but Okhrim +is his enemy. Khariton Kondraty was taken to Kovylsk, and thrown into +prison there last week. I expect to be the next. But he leaves me +alone, because I pay every fine he imposes; and the farm is not mine, I +only pay rent for it. It belongs to Paul Rodenko, who was exiled years +ago. Old Karpo will take care it is not confiscated, because it will go +to his daughter, Paul's wife, if he dies first. Still, the hour must +come for me at last." + +Silence fell upon them again. Michael had a vivid idea of what +persecution meant in Knishi. Instead of the fairy tales and ballads +which other children heard from their elders, he had listened all +through his childhood to stories of martyrs—martyrs in Scotland, and +martyrs in his own country. Even the dear home in which they dwelt had +been the scene of martyrdom; and the bench on which they sat beside the +stove had been the deathbed of Paul Rodenko's mother. But hitherto he +had thought of persecution as a thing of the past, or far-off in other +villages; now it stood face to face with him. + +Yet life was very pleasant for the time being. He drew in deep breaths +of the sweet, fresh air of the spring, and looked up into the clear +blue of the sky, and gazed across the vast, sea-like plain. His +heart beat high with the mere joy of living. Courage and hope and an +unquestioning faith in his father filled his mind. Whatever troubles +might be coming, surely he could bear them as his forefathers among the +heathery mountains of Scotland had borne theirs. When he came to think +of it, only a small number of the Covenanters had actually perished; +most of them won through, and secured freedom for themselves, and their +children after them. It would be the same with the Stundists in Holy +Russia. + +They were five days travelling homewards; for Alexis seized this +opportunity for visiting the scattered bands of Stundists, already +becoming terrified and disorganised by the increasing severity of +the persecution. Alexis was not only the deacon of the little church +at Knishi; he was also the presbyter of a wide district containing a +number of churches. He was in constant communication with the Stundist +exiles and prisoners, and managed the funds by which they were helped +and the most distressed members of the sect were maintained. He had +therefore much business to transact, and much comfort and information +to give. Compared with most of the other presbyters and deacons, he was +both a rich and educated man; for he had travelled in other lands, and +his wife had possessed a small income, safely invested in Scotland. + +In every village they met with terror and sorrow. Spies abounded, and +it had become impossible to hold regular meetings. Alexis dared not +address the assembled congregations, as he had been wont to do. In two +or three places tales so terrible were told him that he would not let +Michael hear them. But everywhere he preached non-resistance, not only +from policy, but from obedience to the direction of our Lord—"But I +say unto you, that ye resist not evil." If they could not conquer by +obeying the commands of Jesus Christ, they must perish. + +In some villages, he found that the more timid among the Stundists were +going back to the Orthodox Church, and these were more to be dreaded +than the spies. But in all the little bands, there were some who were +ready to go into exile, or even, if need be, to die for conscience' +sake. These were all poor working men and women, like the carpenters +and fishermen who were our Lord's earliest disciples. Alexis saw them +in secret, and encouraged them. To suffer for Christ was to reign with +Him. There were light afflictions but for a moment on one hand; a more +exceeding and eternal weight of glory on the other! + + + +CHAPTER III + +AT HOME + +THE last night was spent at Kovylsk. This place was the chief town of +the province. Here the governor lived. Here also was the dwelling of +the archbishop. The law courts, the consistory, and the jail were here. +Civil law and ecclesiastical law held their high courts in Kovylsk. +Alexis was very busy, but also very cautious in this town of the +governor and archbishop. + +They took up their quarters in the abode of Markovin, a secret +disciple, more timid than Nicodemus, but a very useful friend to the +Stundists. He was in abject terror all the time a Stundist was under +his roof, but he never refused to shelter them. Alexis and Michael left +their telega and horse at a little inn quite at the other side of the +town, and did not go near him till dusk. + +Markovin had means of succouring the men in prison, of receiving news +from them, and of smuggling in letters to them. One of the warders +who was favourably inclined towards Stundism came occasionally to his +house, bringing information about them. He had been several years +in the prison wards, and was trusted greatly by the authorities, +as he seemed always a stupid but well-principled man. His name was +Pafnutitch, and he had formerly been a soldier. He happened to look in +whilst Alexis and Michael were in Markovin's room. + +"Look here!" he said, after giving them all the news he could. "There's +poor Kondraty would give his ears to have a sight of one of you. I +daren't take you, Alexis, but if Michael didn't mind running a little +bit of a risk, just put his head for a moment in the jaws of the lion, +I'd pass him in—ay! and out again, unless we were very unlucky. Let +him bring a bag o' tools with him, and I'll say he's my sister's son +learning to be a carpenter. What do you say?" + +"I'm ready!" cried Michael, springing eagerly to his feet. + +"No! No! No!" exclaimed Markovin, in terrified accents. "Not from my +house. Not from here!" + +"Not now," said Alexis quietly. "It would be useless. We have no +important news yet to send to Kondraty. But another time, Pafnutitch, I +may send Michael to you." + +It was the first call upon his courage and sympathy, and Michael +rejoiced to feel that he had not for a moment hesitated to answer it; +no cowardice or indifference had made him fail. + +It was evening when Alexis and Michael drove slowly, with their tired +horse, along the grass-grown village street of Knishi. Each cottage, +built of wood or mud, stood at the back of fold-yards large or small, +according to the number of sheep or cattle possessed by the owner. Only +on the eastern side of the dwellings were any doors or windows to be +seen, for the Oukrainian houses are built always to face the east. But +though on one side of the road, the inmates looked out through their +doors and windows to see who was passing, as they heard the creaking +of the telega wheels, not one gave them a smile or a word of welcome. +On the other side, some of the people, curious to know who was coming, +peeped round the corner of the huts, but they, too, only stared and +frowned. + +Michael felt a lump in his throat, and tears burning under his eyelids. +It was not in this way he had dreamed of coming home. He had been +absent only a year, and he knew all their names, and recollected +their faces. Some of the women had kissed him when he went away; +and the children had followed them as far as the barrier, calling +farewell after them as long as they were in sight. But now the boys, +his playfellows, slouched away, as if they were ashamed or afraid to +recognise him, or stood and stared at him with unconcealed animosity in +their manner. This was not what he had looked forward to. + +In his trunk lying at the bottom of the telega were a number of little +keepsakes, which he had bought with great pleasure in Scotland. He +had often thought of how he should go round the village, from house +to house, giving them away, and telling strange tales of his voyage +and his sojourn in a foreign country. He had all the strong desire of +a traveller to narrate his adventures. He had not even forgotten his +enemies, Father Vasili, the Batoushka, and his wife, but now Father +Vasili was dead, and only the Matoushka was left. Was it possible that +nobody would accept his keepsakes? + +Presently they were past Knishi, and on the road to Ostron, half a +mile farther on, where their home was. Michael could no longer bear +the wearied jog-trot of the old mare. He sprang from the telega with a +shout, and ran eagerly towards the farmstead. Yes! There it was! The +very home which had haunted his dreams, by night and day, during all +his long absence. + +The front was in shadow, for it was evening, but the setting sun shone +slantwise on the barns and stables, and made golden tracks down each +side of the fold-yard. The buds on the lilac trees at the corner of the +house stood out against the low light. In the doorway stood Paraska, +her usually sad face kindled into a look of glad welcome; and on the +turf seat by her, outside the door, was Velia, her long pretty hair +pushed back from her eyes and forehead. With a loud cry of delight, she +flew across the yard and threw herself into his open arms. + +"Never go away again, brother!" she cried. "Never leave little Velia +again!" + +For a few moments Michael was silent, gazing with dreamy eyes at the +open doorway. For it seemed to him that just within the shadow, behind +Paraska, he saw dimly a vague form, like his mother, with such a smile +upon her face as had lingered there to the last, when they closed her +coffin. Was it possible she was there to take a share in the joy of +the home-coming? He clasped Velia more closely to him, and kissed her +tenderly. When he lifted up his head again, the vision had vanished. + +Paraska, too, was gone. She threw her apron over her head, and ran +away to the little room that had been made for her in a corner of the +granary. She was the wife of Demyan, a Stundist, who had been sentenced +to exile at the same time as Paul Rodenko, to whom the farm at Ostron +belonged. He was now living at Irkutsk, in Eastern Siberia, thousands +of miles away. When he went away, she had chosen to stay behind with +her two babies, who were too young to bear the privations and perils +of the long journey, made chiefly on foot. But when her children were +four and five years of age, they had been taken from her by the Church +authorities, to be brought up in the Orthodox faith, and she had never +been able to find out where they were. Catherine Ivanoff had taken the +broken-hearted mother, penniless and friendless, and almost maddened, +into their house, and treated her as an old and cherished friend. But +the forlorn woman was a prey to grief, and went through her daily life +almost speechlessly. + +"Let us run after Paraska and speak to her," said Velia. + +Up the rude ladder and across the granary floor they ran to Paraska's +little room, but so piteous were the sobs and cries they heard beyond +the closed door, that they crept quietly away again. + +Yet, in spite of all, that evening was a very happy one. Alexis sat +by the great stove, for it was still cool at night, with Velia on his +knee, and his right arm round his son. Michael had much to tell them, +and they had a thousand questions to ask. They did not avoid talking of +the mother, whom they spoke of not as one dead and lost to them, but +only as having reached the end of a journey, and entered the heavenly +home before them. + +To Michael and Velia, if not to Alexis himself, heaven was as real as +if it had been another land on the face of this earth. They seemed to +know as much about it as they did of Siberia, or the Transcaucasus, +whither so many of the Stundists had been banished, and where they +might go themselves some day. Only there was this difference: they had +no doubt of going to heaven, and they were not sure of going to Siberia. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ESTRANGED FRIENDS + +MICHAEL was resolved not to let the coldness of his old friends and +comrades separate him from them. True, they looked upon him as a +heretic, but he had been that before he went to Scotland—that was no +new thing. Of course, there was his chief friend, Kondraty's son, +Sergio, a heretic like himself, whose friendship was as close and dear +as ever. But Michael had been on good terms with all the village boys, +and he knew they would listen with delight to the story of his travels, +nee, would go into a rapture of joy over the treasures he had brought +home. There were at least a dozen pocket knives, which his Uncle Sandy +had bought to be given away among the lads of Knishi. He was eager to +renew the good understanding and comradeship which had been broken off +a year ago. + +Then there were the packets of needles for the women, and the dolls +for the little girls. Such needles and dolls had never been seen in +Knishi; surely they would open every door and every heart to him. There +was Marina's little girl, Velia's chief playfellow. He had brought an +English doll for her precisely like Velia's. Yarina had been great +friends with his mother, and he had a memento to give to her, sent by +Catherine herself. + +The first morning after his home-coming, he filled his pockets with his +presents, and giving one doll to Velia, bade her take the other one in +her arms. He started off joyously to Knishi, but as he was turning down +the road leading to Yarina's farm, Velia drew him back. + +"We must not go there," she said, with a sob. + +"Why not?" asked Michael. + +"Okhrim is Starosta now," she answered, "and he says I mustn't play +with Sofia any more. He is her grandfather, you know. Unless I cross +myself, and bow to the icons," she added, looking up to him with eyes +full of tears. + +"You must not do that," said Michael, his bright boyish face clouding +suddenly. + +"Oh no!" replied the little girl. "But oh, I miss Sofia so!" + +The tears were rolling down her cheeks, but a moment afterwards Velia +looked up again with a smile. + +"But I shan't mind now," she continued, clasping Michael's hand with +all her might; "I have my own big brother now." + +"Does nobody play with you, my Velia?" he asked. + +"Only the other Stundist children," she said; "and they don't let us go +to school now. Father Cyril would let us go, but Father Vasili got an +order, just before he died, to say the Stundist children must not go to +Orthodox schools if they did not go to church. Father Cyril cannot get +it altered." + +"I'll go and see Sergius," cried Michael, "and you must give Sofia's +doll to little Clava." + +"Little Clava will love it," said Velia, "but oh, I am so sorry for +Sofia. We must never let her know it was brought all the way from +Scotland for her, and given away to another girl." + +The house belonging to Khariton Kondraty, the father of Michael's chief +friend, Sergius, was much smaller and poorer than the farmhouse where +Alexis lived. It lay a little way apart from the village, and near to +the steppe, a part of it so thickly carpeted with flowers that not a +blade of grass or an inch of soil could be seen. Long rows of beehives +lay under a hedge, which sheltered them from the north wind. Khariton +Kondraty had taken up the business of Loukyan, an old deacon who had +died from ill-usage in prison at the last outbreak of persecution in +Knishi. He maintained himself and his family chiefly by the sale of +honey and wax, and since he had been imprisoned in Kovylsk, his son +Sergius, a boy about the same age as Michael, and his daughter Marfa, +a girl of twelve, had proved themselves quite capable of managing the +bees, and tilling the small plot of ground belonging to their father. + +The whole family welcomed Michael with delighted cries of welcome. +Marfa alone could not his speak, but her eyes filled with tears. +Sergius clasped his friend in his arms; and little Clava jumped about +for joy, with her English doll in her arms. Tatiania, Kondraty's wife, +kissed him as fondly as if he had been her own son. No welcome could +have been warmer, and Michael's spirits rose again. + +"Let us go and look at the hives, Serge," he said. + +He wanted to get Sergius alone, to inquire about the school and the +exclusion of the Stundist children from all the pursuits and games of +the Orthodox children. It was too true. The Orthodox parents forbade +their children to have any intercourse with the heretics. They were in +fact excommunicated. This had caused bitter, though perhaps short-lived +grief in many households in the village; for the friendships of +children are often very close and tender. Yarina's little girl, Sofia, +had been made quite ill by her separation from Velia and little Clava. +But the Stundist children were getting no teaching except what their +parents could give in their very few leisure moments. + +"Then I will keep school myself for our own children," said Michael. + +He soon found out that the boys of the village were more than willing +to listen to his traveller's tales, and accept his presents, if they +could do so in secret. But this Alexis would not allow. Michael himself +saw the risk and the folly of any clandestine intercourse; for Okhrim, +the Starosta, was on the lookout keenly for some pretext for fresh +fines and oppressions. + + + +CHAPTER V + +IN THE FOREST + +MICHAEL began his school, protected and encouraged by Father Cyril, +the Batoushka, though the Starosta did his best to put a stop to it. +Father Cyril had been appointed to the Orthodox Church in Knishi, on +the death of Father Vasili, with the idea that his holiness of life +and sweetness of nature would bring back the straying Stundists to the +Orthodox faith. He was loyally attached to the Greek Church, and never +having been in close contact with the Stundists before, he had come to +this parish with high hopes of soon rooting out the pestilent heresy by +conciliatory measures and telling arguments. He found the unlettered +peasants very open to conciliation, but their arguments, taken simply +and solely from the New Testament, he could not often combat, and could +never overthrow. In the meanwhile he had conceived a great respect and +a real friendship for Alexis Ivanoff. + +Alexis had had more than a village education. He had lived some +years in Moscow, and availed himself eagerly of every opportunity +for acquiring knowledge. His wife, Catherine, had been no ordinary +woman; she had always been a true helpmate and companion to him. He +had learned English from her, and possessed many English books. He +had translated the best English hymns into Russian verse, which were +printed and widely circulated. + +Father Cyril was greatly interested in this heretical household—the +well-read, intelligent farmer, the manly yet boyish son, and his +pretty, sweet-tempered little girl. The sad, broken-hearted Paraska, +mourning for her children, also aroused his deepest sympathy. The +farmstead was a model to the village. Whenever Father Cyril passed +it, and saw the clean fold-yard, the comfortable house, with its +shining windows, and the flowers blossoming round it, he sighed to +think he could not point it out as a pattern to his idle and drunken +parishioners without giving great offence to the Orthodox people. He +could not even go as often as he would like to visit Alexis Ivanoff. + +Michael's school for the Stundist children prospered; he proved to +be a very good teacher. There was no doubt he was doing better than +the village schoolmistress, who took no real interest in her work. +The Stundist children, who were obliged to pass through Knishi to +reach Ostron were often assailed with threats and bad language and +occasionally with missiles from the Orthodox children. For the spirit +of persecution is easily aroused, but very difficult to suppress. + +The summer was nearly over, and the harvest was gathered in, an +abundant harvest, which filled every barn to overflowing. Michael gave +himself and his little school a holiday that they might spend a whole +day in the forest, which lay to the east of Ostron. Paraska made a +large supply of pasties, some of which were filled with boiled cabbage, +and others with fruit; and she baked a quantity of bread and cakes; +for there were quite a dozen children to go besides Michael and Velia, +and Sergius and Marfa, who came as guests, being too old and too busy +to attend the school. They kept this expedition a profound secret, +lest the Orthodox children should follow to the forest and spoil their +holiday. + +There was no road, only a foot track to the forest; and between it and +the steppe lay a deep ravine, crossed by a rude bridge of the trunk of +a tree, which had fallen across the chasm generations ago. Some of the +oldest trees in it had been left untouched for centuries, and as the +timber belonged to the Government, it was left to grow very wild and +untrimmed, though the village was often in dire need of fuel. There was +a great tangle of brushwood; and it had the reputation of being haunted +in some parts of its dark and moist thickets. Only the most daring +spirits among the Knishi boys would venture into its glades. But the +Stundist children were at home there. For during the last few years, +many a secret meeting for worship had been held in a deserted hut some +distance within it. + +It was a lovely day in September. The sun was still hot, but there were +sweet, warm gusts of wind, which tossed the leafy branches to and fro, +and brought with it the sweet perfume of wild flowers and the pungent +scent of herbs. There were many open spaces where the sun had dried the +moist earth, and where the children could play safely. They played till +the little ones were tired, and then they turned their steps towards +the deserted hut, to eat their dinner. + +It had been a charcoal-burner's hut, but for many years no peasant had +consented to work there, so near was it to a fatally-haunted spot. It +stood in a dense thicket, with no beaten track to it; for the Stundists +were careful not to tread down a path which might betray their +meeting-place. A few rough trunks of trees formed some benches for the +congregation to sit upon, and a large log set on end served as a table +for the preacher to stand at, and lay his Bible and hymnbook on. The +children sat here and ate their dinner with a subdued gaiety even more +enjoyable than the boisterous play outside. They sang a grace before +the meal began. + +"Let us hold a meeting," Sergius proposed, when dinner was over, "and +Michael shall be our deacon." + +"Yes, yes!" cried all the children, clapping their hands. + +A few hymn-books were concealed in a hole in the thatched roof. These +were quickly brought out, and Michael took his place behind the +preacher's log, whilst his congregation seated themselves with smiling +faces on the benches. + +"My little brothers and sisters," he began, "we can sing a hymn, but I +don't think it would be right for me to pray. I am too young to do that +out loud, and for you to listen to me. I might say something I ought +not to say; and you would perhaps be thinking of me, not of God. But +I'll talk to you, after we have sung 'Oh, happy band of pilgrims!'" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE + +THE children's voices rang out in clear, sweet, and harmonious tones; +for the Oukrainians are a musical people, and fond of choral singing. +Only now and then a shrill note, sounding like a cry of triumph, broke +the harmony. It was little Clava, who had not yet learned how to +modulate her voice; and Sergius would have checked her, only Michael +gave him a sign to let the child sing on. + +"And now," he said, when the favourite hymn was finished, "I am going +to tell you about the children in Scotland, whose fathers and mothers +were like the Stundists. They were called the Covenanters, and the +king wanted to make them say they believed what they didn't believe, +and worship God in the churches; and they couldn't, for conscience' +sake—just like our fathers and mothers. All they wanted was to be left +alone to worship God, and obey Him, in the way they believed to be +right. Then the king said they were rebels, and, he sent his soldiers +to compel them to do as he wished, or to put them to death. Then the +Covenanters said they were ready to die, but they could never, never +disobey God. So the men had to flee away, and hide in the steppes and +the mountains. Now, their steppes are not like ours, all open, and +plain to see across, but they are full of rocks and woods and hollows, +where they could hide easily. They suffered dreadfully from hunger and +cold and ragged clothing; and the soldiers hunted them down, and some +of them they caught and shot like wild beasts; and others they sent to +prison; and they hanged many of them. What for? Because they obeyed God +rather than man. + +"But the women, of course, stayed at home with the children; and +sometimes the poor men would steal in to see them, and to get a little +good food and warmth. Then the spies told the soldiers—they were +traitors, those spies were—and the soldiers came; and all the men +and women fled away into the woods, and left the children alone in +the houses. Oh, you may be sure they could hardly bear to do it but +everybody thought, 'The soldiers have children of their own, and they +will not hurt our little ones.' + +"Then the troopers came on great black battle-horses, with swords and +guns; and they searched one house after another, and could find no one +but little children—boys and girls no older than Velia. For big boys +like Serge and me had gone off to the woods and caves with the grown-up +people, because they knew the soldiers would have no mercy on them. + +"Well, when nobody was found, the captain was very angry. In a great +rage he had all the children gathered together, and asked them where +their fathers and mothers were. Do you think the children told the +captain?" + +Michael paused to take breath, and Clava's shrill little voice cried +out, "No!" + +"No, my little Clava," continued Michael, "and you would never tell, if +father or mother were hiding. Then the captain set them all in a row, +with a row of soldiers opposite to them with their guns ready to shoot +them, and bade them kneel down to be killed. So they knelt down, and +the oldest little girl, like Velia, said to the others, 'It will not +hurt much, and then we shall be in heaven!' + +"The captain told them to say their prayers, but the little girl said +they did not know how to pray aloud, though they could sing a hymn. +And the children began to sing a hymn they all knew, and the soldiers +turned away, and rode off on their battle-horses, telling the captain +they were ready to fight with men but not with children, and before the +hymn was finished they were all out of sight." + +"Ah!" sighed the children, drawing a long breath. + +"That was about two hundred years ago," Michael went on, "in Scotland; +and in the very house I lived in there was a little secret closet +in the chimney corner, as if it was close to one of our stoves. One +night the father was warming himself at the fire, when they heard the +soldiers coming, and he slipped into the secret closet, and the mother +ran and got into bed, and only a girl like Marfa was left clearing up +the house. There was a good fire on the hearth, so the soldiers felt +sure somebody was there, and they searched up and down, and then they +asked the girl where her father was, but of course she would not tell. +So they said they would flog her, and she ran out of doors as quickly +as she could run. They followed her, thinking she was running to her +father. + +"But I will tell you why she ran out into the fold-yard. She said to +herself, 'Father will hear if they flog me in the house, and he will +come out and be killed.' + +"And they did flog her, but she stuffed her apron in her mouth, lest +she should scream out. And at last, the soldiers were ashamed. One of +them said she was a brave lassie! She was my grandfather's grandmother, +and they talk about her to this day, so brave she was. + +"But it does not always end as well as that. There is poor Paraska; you +know how both her children have been taken away from her. Well that may +happen to us—not to big boys and girls like Serge and Marfa and me, +they will treat us like grown-up people—but you little ones! Oh, if any +of you are taken away from your own fathers and mothers, you must never +forget them, and what they taught you. You must be true to God and +them. If we die for it, we must be true. We cannot bow down to icons, +or pray to anyone but God. Never! Never! Death is not dreadful if we +love God. It only takes a few minutes to die. Then we are safe for ever +with our Lord Jesus Christ. You will remember?" + +"Yes, yes!" they all cried. + +"It helps me to think often that our Lord was once just like me," +continued Michael; "a boy as old as me, working with His father, and +living at home; just my age—" + +Clava's little brown hand was lifted up to interrupt him; she had an +important question to ask. + +"Was He ever just as little as me?" she said. + +"Exactly as little as you, my Clava," answered Michael; "six years old +only, and His mother took care of Him, just like your mother; and, oh, +He made her so happy, for He was never naughty! Well, whenever we are +tempted, we must try to think what He would have done in our place. +Remember our Lord Jesus died a martyr, and we must be ready to follow +Him. It is not grown-up people only who are martyrs!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FATHER CYRIL + +AT that moment, whilst Michael was still speaking, the doorway of +the hut was darkened by a man's figure standing between them and the +green light of the forest. The children huddled into a corner, like +frightened lambs; whilst Michael and Sergius stood out boldly in front +of them. The hearts of both of the boys were filled with trouble and +dismay. It was Father Cyril, the Batoushka, who had discovered their +retreat. + +"Are you afraid of me, my children?" he asked in a gentle voice, as +he sat down on one of the logs, and stretched out his arms towards +the startled group. "Come to me, Velia; and little Clava, I have a +sweetmeat for you. Come and sit on my knee. Shake hands with me, +Michael and Sergius. I heard you singing some little time ago, and +after some trouble, I found out where you were hidden." + +"Batoushka," said Michael, stammering and hesitating, "this old hut is +a secret." + +"Not from me now," answered Father Cyril, "but don't be alarmed, my +boys, I respect your fathers, and I will not betray you or your people." + +Michael stood aside, and pushed Velia and Clava towards the village +priest. He took Clava on his knee, and put his arm round Velia; +whilst the rest of the children drew near him, attracted by his kind +and benign aspect. His pale, thoughtful face was that of a youngish +man, though his uncut hair, parted in the middle, and hanging on his +shoulders, and his long beard, gave him a venerable appearance. There +was a half smile on his lips and in his eyes, in spite of the sadness +with which he regarded this childish band of heretics, already eager +for martyrdom. He knew better than they did the perils and sorrows +drawing nearer every day. The resolute, manly bearing of Michael, the +more timid yet firm manner of Sergius, the tender delicacy of Velia, +and the clinging weakness of little Clava, appealed irresistibly to +his pity. He felt as the Lord may have felt when they brought young +children to Him for His blessing, if He foresaw that these little ones +must pass through the fires of persecution. Father Cyril knew that +these helpless children were doomed to swiftly coming sorrows; and +his heart ached, and tears came into his eyes, as he laid his hand on +Clava's head and gave her a silent benediction. + +"My children," he said, "I see you seldom, but none the less I feel +as if you belonged to me. You are in my parish, and the Church has +appointed me to be your Batoushka. I would give all I have—yes, and +lay down my life—to bring you, and all your people, back to the Church +you have forsaken. Yes, Michael, I know that cannot be at present. +The Church must be purified and reformed, but we too are Christians. +I would have no man dare to sign himself with the sign of the cross, +without truly recollecting the cross of Christ. No man should put an +icon into his house, except as a reminder of the constant presence +of God, before whose sight, he could not commit a wrong deed, and in +whose hearing he could not utter an evil word. The symbols must only +represent truths, or they are worse than useless. There will come a +time—but the end is very far-off." + +Father Cyril paused, with a break in his voice like the sob of a +wearied runner. Velia pressed closer to him, and leaned her head +against him as if he had been her father. The hearts of the children +were touched, and they drew still nearer to him, clustering about his +feet. Michael's eyes were fastened upon the Batoushka's agitated face. + +"Oh, I wish we could belong to you!" he cried. "But we cannot! We +cannot!" + +"But we can pray together, my children," said Father Cyril. + +Kneeling down in the midst of the children, under the roof of the +deserted hut, where alone the proscribed Stundists dared to worship, +the Batoushka offered a simple prayer, intelligible even to little +Clava, that God would be with them in the troublous times that were +coming, and save them from all evil, especially the sin of disobeying +His voice when He spoke through their conscience. + +When they rose from their knees, he kissed each one of them on the +forehead; and they bent their heads as he pronounced a priestly +benediction upon them. The Batoushka and the band of childish heretics +were very near to each other at that moment. + +Father Cyril walked slowly homewards through the thickly-grown forest. +He felt sure that he could win the people back to Orthodoxy but for the +persecution they were always encountering. He had no faith in coercive +measures. Besides, he acknowledged sadly and reluctantly that a vast +accumulation of superstitious rites and beliefs was suffocating the +Church. He had never been so conscious of it as since he had lived +in this remote country parish, where none of the spirit of town life +breathed over the stagnant waters. + +When at last he came in sight of the church-house, he saw his wife—the +young Matoushka, as the villagers called her—standing at the door, +looking out anxiously for his return. She held in her hand a large +official-looking packet, which she raised above her head as he came in +sight. + +"From the consistory," she called out, "with the archbishop's seal. Oh, +I am so curious!" + +Father Cyril hastened in, and opened the document and read in unbroken +silence, whilst his wife waited impatiently for news. He sank down on a +seat, and covered his face with his hands. + +"Oh, my dearest one!" she cried. "Tell me what is the matter quickly." + +"A cruel thing," he groaned, "a cruel thing; and I must do it." + +"What is it?" she asked again breathlessly. + +"An order from the consistory," he answered, "that I must take all +Stundist children between two and ten years of age from their parents, +and place them in Orthodox families; their maintenance to be paid for +by fines levied on their heretic fathers. Think of it, dear wife—think +of our own little ones. Ah! Those monks who have neither wife nor +children do not know how cruel they are!" + +The Matoushka burst into a passion of tears, when Father Cyril told her +with a broken voice and a face of profound pity. + +"I'd rather see my children in their coffins," she sobbed, "than lose +them in such a cruel way. Poor Tatiania! Her husband in prison, and +little Clava to be taken from her. It will break her heart! And Velia +Alexovna! How old is she, Cyril?" + +"Not ten yet," he answered. "Oh, it is frightful, and absolutely +useless! We shall never win them back if the authorities adopt measures +like these. Would to God I could disregard the order!" + +"Cannot you put it off, and go to see the archbishop?" she asked. + +"No," he replied; "the Starosta has got an order from the police in +Kovylsk to assist me in carrying out the order. Okhrim will rejoice +over it; he hates the Stundists with all his heart, and so does the old +Matoushka. Oh, they are at the bottom of all this!" + +Father Cyril could not sleep that night, his brain was too much +worried with vexatious and perplexing questions. How should he break +the terrible tidings to the Stundist families? How could he bear +the heartrending scenes he would be obliged to witness—himself the +unwilling messenger of the cruel sentence? And what homes could he +choose for the children, whom he must provide for as carefully and +kindly as possible? They must be homes with which the sober, cleanly, +and religious parents might be moderately content. He awoke his wife +to ask her if she would be willing to take Velia and Clava into their +own home, to live with their own children, and she answered drowsily, +"Yes, yes, beloved!" Surely no objection could be made to this step. A +priest's house was an Orthodox house. + +Then there was Yarina, the richest woman in Knishi, with only one +little girl. True she was Okhrim's daughter-in-law, but she was a widow +for the second time, and quite independent of her husband's father. +She was regular at church; though she was not as devout as the old +Matoushka, Father Vasili's widow, who never missed a church service. He +would not place a child with the old Matoushka—her temper was bad, and +she was too miserly—a child would lead a terrible life with her. + +Well, he must do the best he could for all of them. They would be under +his own eye; and he would see each child every day in the village +school, which of course they would now be expected to attend. Poor +Michael! His little class would be scattered. + +One clause of the order hurt Father Cyril's tender soul more than the +others. The parents were not permitted to hold any kind of intercourse +with their children unless they returned to the Orthodox faith. Ah! +What daily agony there would be both for parents and children! It +would have been almost better—more merciful—to have removed the little +ones altogether out of sight. Yet, after all, would there not be some +consolation to the mothers to see their children, even from afar? + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A CRUEL BLOW + +THE children who had been spending the day in the forest went home at +sunset, wearied but very happy. They parted with one another after +they had crossed the rough bridge, and Michael and Velia went on hand +in hand towards Ostron. Michael felt his heart strongly attracted by +Father Cyril. If all priests were like him, he thought, there would +be no persecution. And why should not people think differently about +religion, as they did about everything else? The Stundists accepted +the teaching of the New Testament literally. The Orthodox people added +symbols and ceremonies and the traditions of the Church to it. He could +not see that it made the New Testament any more binding. If the Lord +gave a command, His followers must obey it. + +As Michael and Velia turned into the fold-yard, they heard a loud +harsh voice speaking on the other side of the house. They hurried +round the corner, and saw Okhrim, the Starosta, who was reading with +some difficulty from a large official document. He had not entered the +house; and Alexis stood listening, whilst Paraska could be seen partly +concealed by the door which she held ajar. + +[Illustration: THE STAROSTA WAS READING FROM A DOCUMENT.] + +Michael and Velia drew near just as Okhrim, with a spiteful smile on +his harsh face, read the plainly-worded order that the Starosta was to +aid the parish priest in removing all children of Stundist parents, +between the ages of two and ten years, and placing them in Orthodox +families, where they would be brought up in the Orthodox faith. A +wild frenzied shriek from Paraska rang through the quiet evening air; +and Velia, who understood the slowly-uttered order, uttered a cry of +terror, and flinging herself into her father's arms, clung closely to +him, as if no power on earth could tear her from the shelter of his +breast. + +"Oh, my God!" cried Alexis. "What can I do?" + +"Do?" repeated Okhrim contemptuously. "Why, become a good Christian, +and go to church and pay the Church dues. Ay! And drink vodka as +other Christians do. I believe you Stundists are the greatest fools +living. The child is to be brought up Orthodox, and if you won't do it, +somebody else must. I'll take her myself, and if fair means won't 'tice +her to church, there is always this." + +He cracked his whip, which he always flourished in his hand, and was +not reluctant to use it on anybody he dared to tyrannise over. Alexis +felt Velia tremble violently in his arms. + +"O Father," he cried, "if it be possible, save us from this hour!" + +"There you go," said Okhrim, with a sneer and a laugh, "as if God +Almighty could hear you amid all His angels and archangels singing +and chanting, to say nothing of the blessed saints. If I were in your +plight, I'd pray humbly to one of the smallest saints, and get him to +speak to those higher up; and maybe it might reach at last the ear of +the Mother of God. Not that she'd do anything for a cursed Stundist. +Besides, she'd never interfere with our archbishop and the consistory." + +"Can we do nothing, father?" cried Michael. + +"I must think," said Alexis, turning to him with an expression of +almost hopeless anguish; "we have no power, no influence. Oh, if I had +only sent Velia to Scotland with you, she would have been safe! But +there are other fathers and other mothers. Oh, my God! Help us to bear +it!" + +For once in his life Okhrim's conscience stung him, and he turned away, +slowly passing out of sight. + +Alexis carried Velia into the house, and Paraska locked and barred the +door, as if she could shut out the coming trouble. + +It was a sleepless night for Alexis, as well as for Father Cyril. The +thought crossed his mind that he would have time to carry Michael and +Velia to Odessa, and get his wife's kinsman there to send them away to +Scotland. But a step like this would only precipitate and intensify the +storm ready to burst, not only upon himself but upon hundreds of fellow +Stundists in the district. There were other parents, even in Knishi, +who would have the same most heavy cross laid upon them. They were +not only to be bereft of their children, but they knew those children +would be brought up in tenets which they themselves renounced with such +fervour that they were willing to sacrifice everything rather than +profess to believe them. No, he could not save Velia in that way. + +Then he thought pitifully of Tatiania, whose husband, Khariton +Kondraty, had been in jail for nine months. She too would now have to +give up little Clava, her youngest child, the pet and darling of the +house. Poor Tatiania! Could she stand fast in her faith, so severely +tried? Could any of the mothers refrain from going back to the Orthodox +Church, if by doing so they could keep their little ones? Ah! This +was the sharpest weapon of all in the Orthodox armoury. "Give me the +children," the Church demanded, "and the mothers will follow." + +Then Father Cyril was so good and kind and persuasive; so different +from Father Vasili, who had been an idle, self-indulgent, and arrogant +parish priest. It would make it much easier for the women to go back to +the Orthodox Church. By slow degrees they would relapse into the old +condition of superstitious observances, and the lamp of truth would be +extinguished in Knishi, as it had been in other places. + +But below every other thought there rang through his soul the cry, "Oh, +Velia, my little child! Would to God we could die together, my child +and I!" + +The morning came, and a wretched circle assembled at breakfast. Michael +and Velia had both slept, but their eyes were red, as if they had wept +themselves to sleep and awoke with tears again. Paraska was heavy-eyed, +and completely dumb. They were lingering together, as if they could not +bear to separate, even for an hour, when Father Cyril appeared at the +door. + +"Ah, Okhrim has been before me!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have come +last night. My poor Alexis! But the order is not to be executed before +Sunday that the people may have time to make their submission, and be +reconciled to the Church. Those parents who come to confession will +keep their children, on condition that they bring them up as Orthodox +Christians." + +"We shall see who can bear the severest temptations," said Alexis, with +a sad smile. + +"But I will start off to Kovylsk at once if you can drive me," said +Father Cyril; "and I will ask for an interview with the archbishop. +Come, Alexis; I am a father too. I feel for you. I can guess the terror +little Velia feels, poor lamb." + +He sat down on the bench, and took the trembling little girl into his +arms. The tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. He felt great shame in +the errand forced upon him. This terrible order, which he was called +upon to execute, seemed to him a monstrous attack upon a parent's +rights—those primal rights which existed before the Church was founded. +He sat in silence for some minutes, until he could command his voice. +From time to time, he stroked Velia's hair and patted her cheek. And +the child nestled close to him, much comforted. + +"We must bestir ourselves, and do the best we can," he said, almost +stammering. + +"And leave the result to God," added Alexis. "But how can I quit my +little daughter just now?" + +"Let her go and play with my little ones," answered Father Cyril; "the +Matoushka will be like a mother to her. We will put her down at the +church-house; for we must tell my wife we shall be away for one or two +nights." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +ORTHODOX REASONING + +AS they drove across the steppe, in the two-wheeled cart without +springs, at the slow, monotonous trot of the old mare, Father Cyril +had a better opportunity than he had ever had before of a prolonged +discussion with Alexis Ivanoff on the tenets and history of their +young sect. He was filled with surprise and admiration. The absolute +simplicity and truthfulness of the farmer, united as it was with mental +strength and a close grasp of his subject, astonished the Batoushka. +Alexis was not logical; he had had no training in a theological +seminary, like Father Cyril. He argued as the fishermen of Galilee +would have argued. But his convictions were as strong as theirs, who +had seen the Lord with their eyes, and heard Him with their ears. +Father Cyril could not help admitting that the worship of the Stundists +was far more in accordance with that of the apostolic age than the +ornate, multitudinous, and magnificent ceremonies of the Orthodox +Church. He owned that the peasants, in their ignorance, did worship +the icons with idolatry. Yet in fundamental Christian doctrines, he +and Alexis were one. They prayed to the same Father in heaven; they +believed in the same Lord; they studied the same Holy Scriptures. There +was real spiritual communion between them, as they slowly crossed the +brown autumnal steppe, now lying under a thin veil of mist, which hid +the horizon, and enclosed them in a soft circle of mellowed light. + +They reached Kovylsk too late to go to the consistory that night. But +quite early in the morning Father Cyril presented himself at the gate, +and inquired for Father Paissy, who was known throughout the diocese as +the archbishop's right hand. They had been at the theological seminary +together, where they had been on friendly terms, but they had seen +nothing of one another since Father Paissy had elected to enter the +order of the monastical clergy, who take vows of celibacy, and who +alone can be raised to the higher ranks of the Russian priesthood. He +was already a powerful personage. He was a small, sharp-featured man, +with a soft voice, and a perpetual smile on his thin lips. + +"Father Cyril, parish priest of Knishi?" he said interrogatively, +without condescending to recognise him as his former comrade. "Ah! You +have a troublesome flock. Heresy runs like an infectious disease among +them. We must stamp it out—stamp it out effectually." + +"I come in the hope of seeing the archbishop," said Father Cyril. + +"He is in Moscow," interrupted Father Paissy, "but I can act in his +stead." + +It was a great blow to Father Cyril; for the archbishop never refused +him an interview, and he had placed great hopes on his indulgence. It +is easier to prevent a thing being done than to get it undone. There +was no sign of indulgence in the hard face opposite him. + +"I came to intercede for my poor parishioners," he said gently, "those +unhappy parents who are to be deprived of their young children. Some +of them are scarcely out of their mothers' arms, and still require a +mother's care in childish maladies. Only a mother's patience is strong +enough to bear them through the first seven years. A child's heart is +capable of great sorrows, and its spirit is quickly broken if it is +sent among strangers, and separated from all it has known from its +birth." + +"Ah!" said Father Paissy, with a deep breath, which sounded almost like +a sigh. + +Father Cyril went on, encouraged. + +"The unfortunate people who have left our holy Church," he continued, +"are most affectionate parents. It is their universal practice to +treat their little ones with the utmost tenderness. They look upon +their children as entrusted to their care by God Himself. True, that +may be an error, but it is their belief. The children never hear +uncivil words; they never see a drunken person in their homes. Think, +your reverence, what it must be to children so carefully reared to be +distributed among the houses of peasants who are ignorant and degraded +by vodka-drinking. There would be great difficulty in finding suitable +homes for them with our Orthodox peasants." + +"You seem to think very highly of your heretics," said Father Paissy in +a scoffing tone. + +Father Cyril felt that he had forgotten himself. + +"I grieve over their heresy night and day," he answered earnestly; "it +makes my life in Knishi a burden to me. I never had this trouble to +encounter before. But oh, believe me, harsh measures will never bring +them back to us, above all, not such a measure as this! Every father, +every mother worthy of the name, will cry out against it. I assure your +reverence, I was gaining some influence over them; I have seen two or +three steal in at the church door to listen to my sermons. Let me plead +their cause to you. Do you, with your powerful influence, get this +terrible order rescinded. The Stundists will bless you, and it will add +greatly to my influence in the parish." + +"Do you forget the children's immortal souls?" asked Father Paissy. "Is +their salvation of no moment?" + +"Alas!" cried Father Cyril. "If salvation means to be saved from sin, +I must confess that these poor straying heretics have advanced farther +along the path of salvation than our superstitious, half-pagan Orthodox +peasants. I am striving my utmost to teach and raise them, but only +a parish priest can know how deeply they are sunk in degradation and +drunkenness." + +"I can do nothing for you," said Father Paissy in a chilling voice; +"the consistory has issued the order, and it must remain as it is. It +must also be obeyed promptly, Father Cyril." + +The Batoushka felt his heart sink within him, as he looked at the set +and stubborn face before him, with its cruel smile still playing about +its lips. Neither this man nor the archbishop could understand what a +father's love was, and they had no knowledge of a child's nature. His +chief hope was gone, but another was left to him. + +"I may place the children as I please," he asked, "provided I settle +them in Orthodox families? Some houses are much better than others." + +"Just as you like—just as you like," said Father Paissy impatiently; +"only let me warn you, Father Cyril, no indulgence to the heretics! We +intend to weed them out, root and branch. Our long-suffering is at an +end. Church or Siberia! Church or Caucasus! They must choose between +them." + +Alexis was waiting at the entrance to the consistory when Father Cyril +came out. He had been to see two or three friends in Kovylsk, who had +sympathised with him deeply, but gave him no hope that the order would +be rescinded. It had been sent to many other villages besides Knishi, +and there was lamentation and bitter weeping in them all: "Rachel +weeping for her children refused to be comforted." + +"Yet, 'Thus saith the Lord,'" said Alexis, "'Refrain thy voice from +weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, +saith the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. +And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall +come again to their own border.' Send that message to the churches, and +bid them trust the Lord to keep His promises." + +He knew the moment he caught sight of Father Cyril's downcast face that +he had failed in his mission. But Alexis had regained his habitual +courage and resignation. He said to himself, "'He that loveth son or +daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me.'" Hard words! But they were +the words of his crucified Lord. + +They scarcely spoke to one another until they were some distance out of +Kovylsk, and could no longer see the glittering domes of its numerous +churches. Then Father Cyril owned his bitter disappointment. "It will +break my heart," he said. + +"The soul is stronger than the heart," replied Alexis. "Now I submit +myself to God's will, and leave my little child in His hands. He +loves her better than I can; yes, He loves her with an infinite and +everlasting love." + +"Velia and little Clava shall come to me," said Father Cyril. + +Alexis dropped the reins and turned to him, as if he had not heard +clearly what was said. + +"My wife and I have settled that," Father Cyril went on, with tears in +his eyes; "they shall be to us the same as our own children." + +"Oh, you good man!" interrupted Alexis. "Oh, how can I thank you? What +can I do for you? Oh, if all Batoushkas were like you!" + +"I would take them all if I could," said Father Cyril, "but I will +find the best houses I can for every one of them. Yarina will take +two, I am sure. Then there are seven or eight more. The worst part of +the order is that the parents are to have no intercourse whatever with +the children, and not in any way to interfere with their training. But +they will live in the same village, and see them from time to time, +though at a distance. They will know they are all under my protection, +and they can always come to the church-house and hear from me, or the +Matoushka, of their welfare. Oh, I will do my best for them." + +"You will teach them no false religion," said Alexis. + +"Oh, as for religion," replied Father Cyril, "they must come to church, +and be brought up to observe the Orthodox rites and accept the Orthodox +doctrines. There is no way to escape that, but, Alexis Ivanoff, there +is salvation to be found in every Church." + +The telega stopped at the church-house after nightfall. Father Cyril +called to Alexis to come to look through the uncurtained window. There, +on a rug near the stove, sat Velia, with Father Cyril's two little +daughters, one on each side of her. The children's heads were close +together, and their faces shone in the lamplight. They were laughing +merrily, and the Matoushka was laughing too. + +"God bless them!" cried Father Cyril, as he grasped Alexis Ivanoff's +hand. + +"God bless you!" replied Alexis. + + + +CHAPTER X + +MOTHERS AND CHILDREN + +BUT to get little Clava away from her mother, Tatiania, was a hard +task, almost an impossible one. The other parents recognised the +absolute impossibility of evading the order of the consistory, and they +listened submissively to the arrangements made for their children by +the Batoushka, who was supported by Alexis Ivanoff. But Tatiania would +listen to no reasoning or persuasion. Her husband had been in prison +for nine months, and but for Sergius and Marfa, who had done all the +work on their land, and with their beehives, the family would have +fallen into dire poverty. They were, of course, much poorer than they +had been in former years. But she would not give up her darling, she +declared—no, not if the archbishop himself came to take her away. The +Matoushka came to entreat her to trust little Clava to her, but in vain. + +"Oh, foolish woman!" cried Paraska to her. "You'd know where she was, +and how kind they were to her, and you'd see her in the street, and +watch her growing up and changing into a girl. And I shouldn't know my +boys now if I saw them. They were babies when they took them from me +eight years ago, and now—! No, I'd pass them in the road and not know +them for my own sons." + +It was not until a letter came from Khariton Kondraty, written in +his prison cell in Kovylsk, bidding his wife give up the child, that +Tatiania yielded, and little Clava went to the church-house, where +Velia was already settled. + +Profound grief, underneath which lay a presentiment of still heavier +calamities, if that were possible, took possession of the little +community of Stundists. Every house had lost one or two of its +children. Several of the mothers, with their hungry love for their +little ones, could not keep aloof from the village church, where alone +they could see them and be for a short time under the same roof. +Paraska told them they were highly favoured; she did not even know if +her boys were living. Alexis Ivanoff in his great pity did not reproach +the women for their stolen attendances at the parish church. Velia had +returned to him for two or three days before he was compelled to resign +her to the care of Father Cyril and the sweet-tempered Matoushka. They +had been days of unutterable anguish, the Gethsemane of his soul. After +this sacrifice to his faith, no trial could be too bitter. + +The old Matoushka, Father Vasili's widow, took care that a report of +the return of the heretic mothers to the Orthodox Church should reach +Father Paissy's ears. He heard it with a smile of self-satisfaction. At +last, then, he had discovered a way of dealing with the Stundists of +the diocese. + +Michael's spirit in those days was hot and mutinous within him. Not +so much on account of Velia, whom he could visit frequently, but for +the sake of his father and little Clava's mother, who could hold no +intercourse with their children, and who were visibly aged by their +grief. Why could not the Stundists do as the Scottish Covenanters had +done before them, set up the standard of revolt, and defend themselves +until the right cause triumphed? Why should not they strike a blow for +freedom—at any rate, for freedom to serve and worship God according to +their conscience? Alexis listened to his boy with a melancholy smile. + +"First of all," he answered, "because we remember that our Lord +suffered His enemies to take Him and crucify Him, though He might have +had a legion of angels to take vengeance on them. He said to Simon +Peter, 'Put up thy sword into its place: for all they that take the +sword shall perish with the sword.' 'The cup that My Father hath given +Me, shall not I drink it?' Yes, Lord, we must drink the cup that Thou +givest us! Cannot God save us, if that be best for us and for our +country?" + +"Yes," replied the boy. + +"That is the chief point," pursued Alexis, "but to revolt would be +utter madness. It would mean our extermination. Scotland is a small +country, and the Covenanters could easily band together. Besides, the +people were mostly in their favour. But Russia is vast, and the people +are our enemies, and will be as long as superstition and drink have the +upper hand. Here in Knishi, with nearly a hundred parishioners—that is, +heads of families—only nine of us are Stundists. Our nearest sister +church is in Kovylsk, a day's journey from us; there are some thousands +of inhabitants, and not more than a hundred brethren who are quite +sound in the faith. Our little churches are feeble in themselves, and +lie miles apart. Truly, if we took the sword, we should quickly perish +with the sword. We could not combine for resistance; we can only do so +for mutual sympathy and help. No, my boy, it is God's will, and we must +submit to it." + +The Russian people, like all Eastern nations, are fatalists; and +Alexis Ivanoff was not without this strain in his temperament. There +is an element of peace in it, but not much element of progress. Boy +as he was, Michael chafed against it with all the love of freedom, +and a desire to strike a blow for it, which he had inherited from +his Scottish ancestors. God's will was ever for the right, and this +persecution was wrong. + +The children over ten years of age were suffering in many ways, besides +having their younger brothers and sisters ruthlessly separated from +them. They could not pass along the village street, or drive their +parents' oxen to water at the village well, without having stones +or clods thrown at them. If they went out in numbers for mutual +protection, the Orthodox children formed bands which lay in ambush to +attack them. At a lonely cottage, left in charge of two girls whilst +their parents were working in the communal lands, the door was locked, +and the young persecutors gathered a quantity of reeds and ill-smelling +weeds, and set fire to them under the unglazed window, until the +noisome smoke almost suffocated the terrified girls. It was useless to +complain to the Starosta, and Father Cyril found himself powerless to +prevent such outrages. + +The women dared not send their girls to the shop; and only big +boys like Michael and Sergius could water the cattle, or fill the +buckets for home use. They did it under a constant shower of abuse, +occasionally accompanied by skilfully aimed missiles. But on the whole +the village boys were afraid of Michael. + +One day, as Michael was going down to the river to look after some +wicker fish-traps he had hidden in the water, he saw a girl standing +in the track leading to the washing-place, with a big boy brandishing +a whip over her. Before he could reach them, the long lash was falling +upon the girl's bowed shoulders and bare ankles in rapid stinging +stripes. She stood motionless, protecting her face with her hands, +and uttering no cry. The clothes she had been washing lay trampled in +the mud. It was Marfa, and the boy who was flogging her was Okhrim's +grandson, and a bully and a coward. Michael had just been reading how +Moses in Egypt saw one of his brethren suffer wrong, and forthwith +avenged him that was oppressed, and smote the Egyptian. He considered +the example of Moses was to be followed. + +"Stop that!" he cried, seizing the whip, and breaking the handle of +it in two. "You coward! Come on and fight me, if you dare, you mean, +skulking, miserable coward!" + +But the boy dared not fight. He stood still for a moment glaring at +them; then, spitting at Marfa, turned away, running as fast as he +could. Michael was for pursuing him, but Marfa held him fast by the arm. + +"Oh, Michael, you shouldn't, you shouldn't!" she sobbed, lifting up her +tear-stained face. "I could have borne it. Oh yes, I was bearing it. I +was saying to myself, 'This is for Jesus Christ's sake.' I didn't cry +out, did I, Michael?" + +"No," he answered; "you were quite dumb. But I couldn't stand by and +see a girl flogged like that. No, no, Marfa! I did right, and I should +do it again." + +"It will bring us both into trouble," said Marfa, picking up the soiled +clothes, and carrying them back to the washing-stage. + +Michael lingered about till she was ready to go home. And after seeing +her there safely, he went on to his father's house, carefully avoiding +the village street. Alexis looked greatly troubled when Michael told +him what had happened. + +"I will go and tell Father Cyril after dark," he said. "If anyone can +help us, he can and will. You did right, but no one knows what the +issue may be. Tell me, my son, did you feel angry with the boy?" + +Michael flung back his head, and his face grew crimson. + +"I felt as savage as a wild beast," he cried; "if I had not broken the +whip and flung it away the first moment, I should have flogged him." + +"Thank God you didn't!" answered Alexis. "But oh, Michael, my boy, you +must learn to 'love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good +to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and +persecute you.' It is our Lord's command." + +"It is too hard for me yet, father," said Michael frankly. "I could +forgive them gladly and make friends again, if they wanted it. But they +delight in being enemies. It's as much fun to some of them to lurk +round corners and throw stones at us from behind, as it used to be to +play games with us. But I'll try to keep our Lord's commands; I'll try +my utmost. A boy can't be perfect all at once." + +"Nor a man either," said Alexis, with a smile and a sigh. "It is a hard +saying, but He who said it will give us grace to obey it. Only love +Him, Michael, and, presently we shall learn to love all for whom He +died." + +In the dusk Alexis went to the church-house. It was somewhat larger +than his own, and possessed a slate roof, and glass in every casement. +It stood near the church, and not far from the cemetery, where, until +the last few years, all the village comrades in life had found their +last resting-place for their toil-worn and wearied bodies. But now the +Stundists were forbidden to bury their dead beside their forefathers. +Any unconsecrated hole was good enough for their unhallowed corpses. +Father Cyril was sitting alone, but the voices of the Matoushka and +the children could be heard in the kitchen, where supper was being +prepared. Alexis heard Velia's beloved voice singing an evening hymn +with the other little ones. Father Cyril was reading by the light of +a lamp with three wicks. Through the uncurtained window could be seen +the dim, great plain, which lay like a sea round the little island of +Knishi. The first slight veil of snow was lying softly upon it, for the +autumn was already over. + +Father Cyril invited Alexis to sit down. The former Batoushka had +zealously testified to his religion by not permitting a heretic to +take a seat in his house. Alexis sat down by the window, gazing out at +the white wilderness on which the moon was shining softly. He told his +story simply, without looking at the Batoushka. + +"Would to God I had been there instead of Michael!" exclaimed Father +Cyril. "I always suspected that young rascal was the ringleader in this +persecution of children by children. If I could but have laid my hand +upon him! Then I would have sent a report to the archbishop. Surely no +servant of God could wink at such an evil. It frustrates all my efforts +to teach them mercy and loving-kindness. It is making them more savage +and cruel than their parents were before them." + +Father Cyril's voice faltered, and Alexis turned to see why he ceased +speaking. He had buried his face in his hands, and the lamplight shone +upon tears trickling through his interlaced fingers. + +"Father, forgive them! They know not what they do," murmured Alexis. + +"Amen!" said the Batoushka. + +Before them both, the Orthodox priest and the heretical Stundist, +there rose a vision of their crucified Lord, in the hour of His bodily +anguish, when rude, rough hands were nailing Him to His cross on +Calvary. Both thought of that hour with profound pity and love, but the +remembrance brought more strength and comfort to Alexis than to Father +Cyril. + +"Amen!" he repeated. "Our Lord said it. And He also said, 'Blessed are +you when men shall revile you, and persecute you, for My sake. Rejoice, +and be exceeding glad.' Father Cyril, we are ready to follow where the +Lord leads." + +"But what about the persecutors?" said Father Cyril. "And I am on their +side. Alexis, it will break my heart!" + +They were silent for some minutes. + +"I fear this will bring fresh trouble," said the Batoushka, "but I will +send a report at once to the archbishop. You are sure Michael did not +strike the Starosta's grandson?" + +"He confesses he would have done it," replied Alexis, "if he had not +broken the whip and thrown it away the first moment. But who will +believe him?" + +"I will go and see Marfa first thing in the morning," said Father +Cyril. "Little Clava and your Velia are in there," he added, nodding +towards the kitchen; "they are dear children to us." + +The children had just finished singing, and pattering steps came +towards the door to fetch Father Cyril to supper. He hastened to +intercept them and send them back; for no heretic parents were +permitted to hold any intercourse with the children taken from them. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A HARD WINTER + +FATHER CYRIL'S report to the archbishop did no good. The Starosta +Okhrim, mad with rage, went to Kovylsk, and had a personal interview +with Father Paissy, at the consistory. This priest had a special +interest in the suppression of Stundism at Knishi. Some few years +before he had been present at an outbreak of popular prejudice, excited +by himself, which had resulted in the death of a Stundist woman named +Ooliana Rodenko. Her son Paul, and Paraska's husband Demyan, had been +exiled to Siberia, with other prominent men among the Stundists. If +these sharp measures failed to root out heresy, they appeared almost +like crimes. Father Paissy was resolved to attain his object. The end +justified the means. But what if the end was not achieved? This time he +determined to stamp out Stundism, once for all, in Knishi. If Father +Cyril failed to win the heretics back to the Orthodox Church, they must +be exterminated. + +All the men of the Stundist households, nine in number, were arrested, +and carried off to the prison in Kovylsk. The women were left without +their natural protectors, and without breadwinners in their desolated +homes. No one was left to do the necessary winter work except +themselves, and the children between ten and fifteen years of age. +Alexis Ivanoff gone, Michael was left with all the toil and care of the +farm upon his shoulders, shared only by Paraska, who, under this new +calamity, shook off the lethargy of her despair, and showed herself +full of energy and resource. Tatiania, too, roused herself from the +melancholy that had possessed her since the loss of little Clava, and +she went from house to house comforting and encouraging the other women +in the trouble still new to them. It was an old trouble to her, for it +was nearly twelve months since her husband, Khariton Kondraty, had been +imprisoned. + +The Starosta, Okhrim, and his grandson paraded the village street with +insolent triumph, but Father Cyril kept the day of arrest as a day of +fasting and prayer in the solitude of the church vestry. + +Winter had already set in, making the whole wide landscape white. The +houses and barns stood out against the sky like huge heaps of snow. +Every morning the street was trackless under the fresh falls that +fell each night; and every evening the white surface was marked with +countless footprints and furrows. All the cattle and sheep were under +cover, and needed to be fed and watered every day. Michael was kept +busily occupied, and Sergius came to help him as soon as his own work +was done at home. + +The village was cut off from all intercourse with the outer world until +the snow was frozen hard enough to bear the sledges. There were only +two sledges in Knishi, one belonging to Okhrim and the other to the +innkeeper. There was no chance of hearing news of the prisoners in +Kovylsk. + +Father Cyril no longer checked the visits of Michael and Sergius +to their little sisters in the church-house. On the contrary, he +encouraged them; and the boys went often, on one pretext or another. +Velia's childish heart was full of vague dreads and sharp sorrow +for her father in prison, but little Clava was as gay and happy as +a child can be. The Matoushka treated them exactly the same as her +own children; whilst Father Cyril was, if possible, more tender and +indulgent to them than to his own. He could not look at them without a +feeling of the deepest pity. + +As a loyal servant of his Church, he did his best to place its tenets +in a clear manner before Michael and Sergius, feeling persuaded they +did not know or understand them. The boys listened to him attentively +and respectfully. + +"Father Cyril," said Michael one day, "if a strong man came to your +house, and dragged your sister from you, and carried your father off to +a dreadful prison, could you think he was God's servant?" + +"No," answered Father Cyril, almost smiling. + +"That is what the archbishop has done," continued Michael; "he has done +it both to Serge and me. You think he stands higher up in God's service +than you do. We don't think so. We could never, never believe he is +really serving God, for God is love." + +Father Cyril gave no answer. He could not tell them the archbishop was +ignorant—the excuse he always made for the peasants. He looked at the +two earnest, sturdy lads before him with compassionate eyes. + +"Be good, my boys!" he said. "Be good, and your conscience will tell +you when you are disobeying God." + +Michael and Sergius were much together. Sergius had only one cow and +a few sheep to tend, whilst Michael had many cattle and horses and a +numerous flock. The boys went to and fro daily between their homes, +always avoiding the village street, infested as it was by foes, and +making their way along by-paths, through deep drifts of snow. The +active life and frequent exposure to extreme cold hardened their bodies. + +"As hard as nails," Sergius declared. + +On the contrary, Marfa and her mother Tatiania grew pallid and weakly +with prolonged confinement to the house, and continual fretting about +Khariton and little Clava. Only on Sunday morning Tatiania, with her +hungry mother's heart, made her way along the white street, and stole +within the church door during mass, that she might at least see with +her own eyes her little girl sitting with the Batoushka's children. + +By the New Year the snow was as hard as the roads were in summer, and +much pleasanter to travel over, as it was smoother, and there were no +clouds of dust. The sky, too, was clear, and of a deep blue, which +contrasted beautifully with the unsullied snow. The road to Kovylsk +was traced out plainly by the tradesmen's sledges, which had come to +bring supplies to the village shops. But no letters had arrived from +the prisoners in Kovylsk; and every heretic soul was longing for some +tidings of them. + +In Alexis Ivanoff's barn there was a rough sort of sledge, which he +had been wont to use for carrying up reeds from the river. Michael and +Sergius determined to get over to Kovylsk secretly in this old sledge, +taking only Marfa and Paraska into their counsels. This was necessary, +as they would have to tend the cattle during their absence. Tatiania +they dared not tell, lest she should talk about it to some of their +Stundist neighbours. + +In the dead of the night the boys dragged the sledge along the silent +street, hearing every little jar of the runners as if it had been a +shriek loud enough to arouse the neighbourhood. They hid it behind a +low hillock where the open steppe began; for luckily they found the +gate at the barrier not securely fastened. At sunrise they led the +mare, with sacks slung across her, through the street, as if they were +going on some errand to Yarina's farm, which lay on that side of the +village. Okhrim's grandson saw them, and shouted some words of abuse, +but kept at a safe distance. No one else took any notice of them; and +before long they were driving over the snowclad steppe. + +It was bitterly cold, but they had on their sheepskin coats, and caps +of Astrachan fur. In their sacks was food enough for three or four +days, which Paraska had provided, besides a present for Markovin, to +whose house Michael was bound. The air was stinging but wonderfully +exhilarating. The low sun lay like a red ball in the filmy sky. The +old mare ran at a much brisker pace than her jog-trot under the sultry +sunshine. They were jolted and jerked by the shaking of the rough +sledge, but this was part of the pleasure to the hardy lads. They sang +and laughed and talked as if there was no sorrow for them in the past, +the present, or the future. + +The short day was over before they reached Kovylsk, but the night could +not be dark on such a snowy plain, and under such brilliant stars. They +parted as soon as they reached the town, Sergius going to a cousin who +was living there, whilst Michael went to ask help and shelter from +Markovin. + +The timorous old man looked scared when he saw the boy, the notorious +Alexis Ivanoff's son. But he could not find it in his heart to send +him away. He felt a superstitious pleasure in the fact that he had +never turned a Stundist away from his door, however terrified he was +at harbouring them. The fresh outbreak of persecution redoubled his +dread, though he had no reason to suppose the authorities suspected him +of heresy. But who knew where a spy might be lurking? He diligently +attended mass in the cathedral, where he had been for some years a +verger; and he crossed himself, and bowed to the icons. When the +brethren reproached him with time-serving, he excused himself by citing +the example of Naaman the Syrian, who said to Elijah, 'Thy servant will +henceforth offer neither burnt offering nor sacrifice to other gods, +but unto the Lord. In this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, when my +master goeth into the house of Rimmon to worship there, and he leaneth +on my hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rimmon . . . the Lord +pardon thy servant in this thing.' This history was a great comfort and +support to Markovin, and he was generally known among the Stundists by +the name of Naaman. + +Markovin led Michael into an inner room, where no one could hear or +see them, and almost in a whisper told him all he knew about the +prisoners. They had been brought several times before a committee of +investigation, of which Father Paissy was the chairman, held in the +consistory. Every effort had been made to get them to recant; promises +and threats had been showered upon them. But all remained firm and +faithful to their convictions, except perhaps Nicolas Pavilovitch, who +seemed shaken by the rigour of his prison experience, and the promise +of reward if he returned to the Orthodox Church. + +"Why can't they hold their opinions as I do?" asked old Markovin +querulously. "The Scriptures don't say, 'Thou shalt not cross thyself, +Thou shalt not bow to the icons'—" + +"There you're wrong," interrupted Michael hotly; "did you never see the +commandment, 'Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, neither +of things in heaven, nor things on earth, nor things under the earth. +Thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them'? Not bow down to +them, Markovin Petrovitch! Not even bow down to them. And you know they +worship them—pray to them." + +"The icons are painted, not graven," answered Markovin; "besides, there +was Naaman the Syrian—" + +But before he could utter another word, a loud knocking at the outer +door made his old knees tremble and his hands shake as with palsy. + +"Did anybody see you coming in?" he asked in a terrified voice. + +"I don't know," answered Michael, "but nobody in Kovylsk knows me." + +Markovin threw himself on the bed. + +"Go to the door," he murmured, "and tell them I'm ill in bed. Oh, I am +ill, true enough!" + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A FRIENDLY JAILER + +MICHAEL, feeling greatly disgusted by Markovin's cowardice, threw +open the door boldly. The visitor, who was carefully wrapped up in a +huge sheepskin coat, was no other than the friendly warder from the +jail—Pafnutitch. + +"Why—why—why!" he stammered. "Who thought of seeing you here?" + +"Then you know me?" said Michael, in equal astonishment. + +"Of course I do," answered the warder; "it's part of our business to +know folks again. You're the young cock-of-the-walk that crowed so loud +and ready to thrust your head into Kovylsk Jail last spring, to have a +look at my jail-birds. Your father's one of them now. A good man; oh, +as good almost as Loukyan the saint! What do you say to trying a rig +like that?" + +"Hush!" whispered Michael, pointing to the door of Markovin's bedroom. +"Hush! It would kill him with fright. To see my father! Oh, I'm ready! +When will it be?" + +"Now! To-night," answered Pafnutitch. "Oh, what luck I came here +to-night! Our head men are all going to the governor's ball, and we +intend to have a jolly night of it. But you shall see your little +father first; only you must have a bag o' tools, or something—" + +"I have this," said Michael, throwing his well-filled sack over his +shoulder. + +"That will do," agreed the warder; "and don't you speak if anybody +speaks to you. They'll think you are Mitiushka, my sister's son by her +first husband, but he was flogged once for talking to a Stundist, and +now he won't answer anybody he doesn't know very well. His mother, +Matriona, had two husbands—but there, I can't tell you all about it +now. I must be at my post in an hour. Tell Markovin Petrovitch you are +going out a little while on business, but don't mention me. Now, then, +Nephew Mitiushka." + +Michael followed Pafnutitch through the streets, his heart beating high +with courage. The wind was piercing, but he did not feel it. The stars +glittered in the narrow strip of sky between the roofs of the houses; +and he fancied they looked down on him like kindly eyes in heaven. Once +again he had the strange sensation of feeling his mother near to him, +walking unseen at his side, and telling him, without words, not to be +afraid. + +When they reached the jail the gatekeeper, who was playing at cards +with a comrade, admitted them, with scarcely a glance at Michael. The +light from the lamp was dull, and the man held a good hand of cards, +which he was eager to play. The small door constructed in the heavy +gates, through which they passed, clanged behind them, and the strong +bolts were shot back into their places. Michael felt already the +depressing and stifling atmosphere of a prison. + +They went through long dark passages, and up two flights of stairs. On +the topmost floor was a corridor, dimly lighted by one oil lamp at the +head of the stairs. On each side were a number of little cells. Another +warder met them half-way down this corridor, and gazed suspiciously at +Michael. + +"Go on, Mitiushka," said Pafnutitch. Drawing the other warder aside, +"He's bringing some victual for the heretics," he whispered, "they've +got powerful rich friends in town—friends that pay well; and I said my +nephew, Mitiushka, should bring them some comforts. There's a bottle +of the best vodka ever went down a man's throat—for me, you know; the +poor heretics don't drink vodka. I'm just mad to taste it, and you and +me 'll go and have some. I'll just turn Mitiushka in here," he added, +stopping at the door of Alexis Ivanoff's cell; "you know he's a poor +softy and won't, talk to anybody. I'll lock the door on him; and we'll +see what the vodka is like." + +He pushed Michael into the cell, and turned the key loudly in the lock. +There was not a gleam of light, except that just under the ceiling +a little square of sky, with two or three stars in it, was visible. +Michael heard his father's voice in the darkness. + +"Who is there?" he asked. + +"It's me, father," he cried; "Michael!" + +Groping till they felt one another in the narrow cell, the father +and son stood for a few minutes clasped in one another's arms. Never +had Michael felt a rapture so pure and overwhelming. For the moment +he forgot they were in a prison. They were together again—he and his +father. But very soon both of them remembered how precious time was. +They sat down side by side on the wooden plank, which served for seat +and bed, and Michael told briefly how it happened he was there. There +was so much to say, and so short a time to say it in. Alexis gave +Michael some news of the prisoners to take home, and messages to carry +to sundry friends in Kovylsk, who were stretching to the utmost their +influence on behalf of the imprisoned Stundists. + +"For me," he said calmly, "it must be either Siberia or the Caucasus +sooner or later. If it is sooner, before you are fifteen, you may get +permission to go with me as my child. Tatiania and Sergius and Marfa +will go with Khariton Kondraty. But we must leave Velia and little +Clava behind us. They will never give back to us the little ones they +have robbed us of." + +"Father Cyril cares for them as if they were his own," said Michael. + +"Ah! That is my only comfort," Alexis went on. "But oh, my boy, they +will be brought up in the practices we denounce, and for which we are +suffering even unto death! But we must leave them in God's hands, He +loves them more than we can. If they keep us in prison for years, as +some of our brethren have been, you and Sergius will be too old to go +with us—" + +"We will follow you wherever you go," interrupted Michael, "if we have +to walk every step of the way. Paraska is saving up every kopek she can +get to join her husband in Irkutsk. If a woman can do it, we can. If it +was all round the world, we would follow you." + +He threw his arms round his father's neck, and laid his head on his +shoulder. Oh, if he could but remain with him now, and share his prison +cell! By this time his eyes had grown used to the darkness, and he +could see the dim outline of his father's face. He told him how he had +fancied his mother was walking at his side as he came to the jail. + +"Why not?" said Alexis. "Surely she loves us better than she did while +she was here." + +"But will not this make her miserable?" asked Michael. + +"Not more miserable than our Lord," he answered; "what He can bear +to see, she can bear. They know the end. Your mother has joined the +cloud of witnesses which compasses us about; and though they see our +afflictions, they also see the far more exceeding and eternal weight of +glory laid up for us if we fight a good fight. It is even here a glory +and a joy to suffer for Christ's sake." + +Alexis spoke in a tone of sober gladness. But before he could say more, +they heard the voice of Pafnutitch speaking loudly in the corridor. + +"I'd clean forgotten the lad," he said; "he'll be scared out of his +poor wits at being shut up in the dark with a cursed heretic. Come +out, my poor boy, come out! Good sakes! This key wants oiling, I can +scarcely turn it." + +He fumbled at the lock for some seconds, giving Michael and his father +time for a last embrace and farewell. Michael was breathing hard with +stifled sobs as he stumbled out of the cell. + +"Poor lad! Poor lad!" exclaimed Pafnutitch, catching him by the arm, +and hurrying down the corridor, "Scared almost to death! Ay, scared to +death! And he was always something of a softy. I'll put him out into +the street, and be back in a jiffy." + +His fellow-warder winked slowly behind his back, and wondered what +heavy bribe Pafnutitch had received. If possible, he would make +him share it. The vodka had been very good, but that was not what +had made Pafnutitch run such a risk as this. Should he report the +little incident to the governor? No. They were good friends; besides, +Pafnutitch knew too much of what he had done himself. It was best to +keep a still tongue in his head. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +DENYING THE FAITH + +FOR the next two days, Michael was busy delivering messages his father +had sent by him to the brethren living in Kovylsk. He told no one how +he had received these messages, for fear of betraying the warder, and +thus closing the channel of communication between the prisoners and +their friends outside. He could not help suspecting that someone made +it worth while to Pafnutitch, though it was against the tenets and the +customs of the Stundists to give bribes. Pafnutitch himself declared he +ran the risks solely for love. + +Now and then Michael met Sergius in the streets, but the boys took no +notice of one another, thinking it safer not to appear acquainted. +They imagined they saw a spy in every man and woman who happened to be +walking in the same direction; and Markovin deepened this impression +by his gloomy forebodings. He had no suspicion that Michael had been +smuggled into the prison. The mere thought would have killed him. He +was exceedingly glad when Michael bade him farewell, though he had +shown him every kindness in his power. The old man kissed the boy on +the forehead, with a profound sigh, and prayed that God's blessing +might rest upon them both, "Me as well as him, O Lord!" he said in a +trembling voice. + +Michael and Sergius had much to say to one another as they drove +homewards. Sergius had less to tell, for though he had been pitied and +sympathised with as the son of Khariton Kondraty, who had been so long +in prison for his faith, his father was not a well-known and beloved +presbyter, as Alexis Ivanoff was. His arrest had been a blow to a score +or more of little Stundist churches. Then there was Michael's adventure +in the jail, and his stolen interview with his father, a secret which +he confided to Sergius under a solemn vow of inviolable secrecy. There +must not be a hint or a whisper of such an event, for fear of getting +Pafnutitch into disgrace or danger, if he was found out. + +They left their old sledge among the reeds growing along the margin of +the river, and led their tired horse at nightfall by a narrow by-path +to Ostron. Paraska hailed their arrival with a gladness the boys had +never before seen on her joyless face. The news of their return soon +spread, and before midnight, one woman after another stole in to ask if +there was any news of their husbands, and any hope of their liberation. +The wife of Nicolas Pavilovitch came amongst them, but Michael did not +say a word to her that it was rumoured her husband was about to recant, +and bear witness against the other Stundists. It seemed too shameful +and too treacherous a thing for him to put into words. + +It was not many weeks, however, before Nicolas himself arrived in a +police-sledge. Every man and woman in Knishi ran into the frost-bound +street to watch its progress. The sledge was driven straight to Father +Cyril's house. Nicolas had been ordered to make his submission to +his parish priest. When he entered the house under the eye of the +policeman, he bowed profoundly to the icon, and with a tremulous voice +asked for the priest's blessing, and humbly kissed his hand. + +"Nicolas Pavilovitch, you desire to come back to the Orthodox Church?" +said Father Cyril, after reading the order from the consistory. + +"I do," answered Nicolas. + +"Is this from conviction before God?" he asked. "Or from fear of man?" + +Father Cyril's voice was stern, and his gaze penetrating. The +miserable-looking man only bowed his head, he could not utter a word. + +"You will have your children restored to you," continued Father Cyril; +"and I am to see that they are carefully brought up in the sacred +rites and doctrines of our holy religion. I am also to report to +the consistory how frequently you and your wife come to mass and to +confession. Go home now. To-morrow I will come and bless your house." + +The driver of the sledge had already spread the news. And when Nicolas +left the church-house he found he had to pass through groups of +unsympathetic neighbours, most of whom jeered at him or hailed him with +mock applause. Pale and haggard, enfeebled by long confinement and +prison fare, he could not hurry homewards out of their way, but crawled +along with bowed-down head and eyes almost blinded with tears. Was it +for this he had belied his conscience and turned renegade and traitor? +The veriest drunkard did not believe in his conversion. What were those +words repeated again and again in his brain? "Seeing he has crucified +to himself 'the Son of God afresh, and put Him to an open shame.'" Oh, +terrible words! + +His house was the peasant's hut next to Khariton Kondraty's, and +Sergius, seeing his arrival, rushed in, after giving him a few minutes +to greet his wife and children, to ask how it was he had been released. +Surely his father would be set free too, and perhaps Alexis himself, +though as presbyter he was least likely to escape exile. + +Nicolas had thrown himself breathless and exhausted on the bench +beside the stove, and his wife was standing before him speechless and +bewildered. + +"Is my father coming?" cried Sergius. "Are the others let off? Oh, +Nicolas Pavilovitch, tell me quickly!" + +"They could all come home if they'd do as I've done," answered Nicolas +in a muffled voice. + +"He has denied the faith," sobbed his wife. "He was a miserable +drunkard before he joined the brethren, and now he is a lost soul." + +"But you'll do as I do," said Nicolas. + +"Never!" she cried. "Never! I'll throw myself into the river first!" + +Sergius stole away quickly and silently. If that was the price to pay +for liberty, he knew well his father would not give it. No, not to gain +the whole world. + +The recantation of Nicolas was a great shock to the little community of +Stundists in Knishi, consisting now only of a few desolate women and +their children. Father Cyril ordered the children of Nicolas to be sent +home, notwithstanding his wife's persistent refusal to join her husband +in abjuring her faith. The three little ones, all under ten years of +age, were very dear to her, and to hold them again in her arms, or to +work from dawn to dark for them, was a great consolation, but nothing +would induce her to go to mass with them and their father. When she +heard that her husband had given evidence, mostly false, against +his fellow-prisoners, she refused to quit the house, or to hold any +intercourse with her old friends and neighbours. Her tribulation was +greater than that of the other women. + +The winter wore slowly away; and the women's hearts grew heavier as +they heard nothing of the liberation of their husbands. They were +wanted sorely at home. As soon as the thaw came, the numerous labours +on a farm, so necessary in the spring, must be done. They had patiently +borne many hardships through the winter, but if their breadwinners did +not come home soon, starvation would stare them in the face. Okhrim, +the Starosta, exacted the taxes as if the men were at their usual work; +and already some of the stock had been sold at low prices to meet his +demands. + +The snow melted away, and the fine blades of corn sown in the autumn +began to push upwards through the rich, moist soil. Michael and Serge +toiled from the first streak of dawn to the last gleam of light in the +western sky, scarcely snatching time enough for food. But what could +two boys do unaided? Besides, there were houses where there was not one +child big enough for heavy work; and the women could not do it all. +Even if they had possessed the means to hire labourers, they could not +have done so; for it had been made illegal for a Stundist to have an +Orthodox servant in any capacity. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +LITTLE CLAVA + +THE short spring-tide was almost spent when news came. The men were +all sentenced to exile in Eastern Siberia for various periods; Alexis, +whose term was the longest, for ten years. As usual, the wives who +chose to go into exile with their husbands might do so, and take their +children. Not one of the women, warned by Paraska's experience, chose +to remain behind. There were only a few days for disposing of all +their possessions, and they were forced to sell their goods for what +their neighbours would give. Yarina, the richest woman in Knishi, +bought a good deal of the stock; and it was noticed that the sellers +looked satisfied and grateful, whilst Okhrim went about swearing at his +daughter-in-law. Father Cyril seemed much pleased, and very friendly +with her. + +"You are not fifteen yet?" Father Cyril inquired of Michael. + +The boy was so manly in his bearing and so well-grown it was difficult +to believe him still under the age at which he could be entered in the +convoy-list as a child. + +"I shall be fifteen next Michaelmas," he replied. + +"A good thing!" said Father Cyril. "But you will have to go as a child, +my boy." + +"I'd go as a baby," he answered, laughing, "rather than not go with +my father. But there is Velia," he said, his face growing grave and +anxious. + +"She cannot go," said Father Cyril; "the children already separated +from their parents are not to be restored to them. And it is best! +Think of such a journey, month after month, through the bitter winter +and the scorching summer, for little children. My heart aches whenever +I think of it." + +"But our poor little Velia!" exclaimed Michael, suddenly realising what +his departure would be to her. How would the tender-hearted little soul +bear the separation? He recollected her cry, "Never go away again, +brother! Never leave little Velia again!" + +"Michael," said Father Cyril, "trust me. Velia and little Clava shall +be as my own children. They must observe the rites of our Church, but +I will teach them the truths that lie underneath the symbols. Do not +be afraid. They shall not cross themselves except when they do so in +remembrance of our crucified Lord. They shall not pray to the icons, +but to the saints whom the icons recall to our minds. I will take care +no superstition is mixed up with their religion." + +"But we pray straight to God," objected Michael, "neither to the icons +nor the saints. Our Lord said, 'When ye pray, say, Our Father which art +in heaven.' He did not speak of saints." + +"They shall say the Lord's Prayer night and morning," answered Father +Cyril gently; "my boy, you have no voice in this matter. Only trust in +me. As far as mortal man can guide them into truth, I will do so. Trust +Velia to God also. He loves her more than you can." + +Tatiania, like the other women, had sold her few possessions, and made +all the necessary preparations for joining her husband at Kovylsk with +her children. But when she heard that little Clava would not be given +back to her, she declared she would not stir without her. There were +other almost broken-hearted mothers, who were leaving their little ones +behind in far less happy circumstances than little Clava. But their +remonstrances and entreaties were in vain. Tatiania sat down in her +empty house, and refused to listen to anyone. + +"She is going mad," said Sergius to Michael. + +Michael, like the rest, had sold the cattle and sheep, and the store +of grain left from last year's harvest, for a small sum indeed. But he +was rich in comparison with the others, though he had given half the +money to Paraska, who must now leave Knishi. She would be homeless and +friendless, hardly able to earn a living, as no Stundist could be taken +as a servant into an Orthodox family. + +"Your mother is going mad!" she said to Sergius. "Tell her to think of +me! I had the chance of going with Demyan, and I gave it up to stay +with my children. They were torn away from me, my two little boys, and +I never set eyes on them again, and never knew what became of them. +That's enough to make a mother mad! But she knows good Father Cyril has +adopted little Clava. I'll go and reason with her," she added, running +off to Tatiania's house. + +The poor mother was sitting on the side of the bed which was no longer +her own, rocking herself to and fro. + +"They were all born here," she cried; "and two of them died here before +my little Clava was born. She is the dearest of them all! I'd rather +see her lying dead here than leave her behind, and never know what was +happening to her. She'd fret so after her mother if she didn't see me +at mass in the church. No, I cannot go! I will not go without her." + +"But you have sold all your goods," urged Paraska; "you have nothing +left but a few roubles. After to-morrow, you'll not have even this roof +over your head. Think of your husband! If you won't go, of course Serge +and Marfa cannot go. Because it is you who choose whether you'll go or +stay. They only count as children. You'll all be beggars together." + +"Serge and Marfa are big and strong; they can work," said Tatiania. + +"And who can they work for?" asked Paraska. "They mustn't work for the +Orthodox folks, and there 'll not be a Stundist left in all Knishi. +There's Vania has to leave three children." + +"I'll never leave little Clava," interrupted Tatiania. + +Paraska went back to Ostron, where Sergius was awaiting her return. +Oh, how mournful the old familiar place looked, now the barns and +the stables were empty! There was only the old mare left; and the +telega, already holding her luggage and the small bundle of clothes +which Michael was taking for his long journey to Siberia. There was +no pleasant cackle of poultry in the deserted fold-yard, no bleating +of young lambs and calves, as was usual at this time of the year. +The broken-hearted woman all at once realised how peaceful had been +her days of sorrow, protected and comforted by Alexis and Catherine +Ivanoff. She was losing a second home and a second family. + +"Paraska!" shouted Michael, as she lingered at the gate. + +She hastened on to the desolate house, already stripped of furniture, +and the two boys asked her eagerly what Tatiania said. + +"She will go mad to-night, if she is not mad now this moment," answered +Paraska. "She won't go; and of course nobody can make her. She is not a +prisoner." + +"But what can we do?" cried Sergius. + +It was a cruel dilemma. He and Marfa could not accompany their father +into exile if their mother persisted in her refusal. Now all their +possessions were sold, the small sum realised by the sale would barely +keep them through the summer. Unless they became Orthodox, they could +not maintain themselves by labour; and both of them were old enough to +know and understand the religion for which their father had suffered +a long imprisonment, and was about to encounter exile. They could +not renounce their faith, though the most miserable poverty, if not +starvation, awaited them in the near future. + +But the inmost heart of their distress was the thought of their father +going alone, forsaken by his own wife and children, to his distant +place of exile. He had never beaten them, as most other fathers did, +had never even spoken an unkind word to them. Their mother had been +fretful, and unreasonably angry at times, especially with Marfa, but +their father never. + +Then they would lose Michael; and what would Knishi be without him? He +would go with his father, march by his side, share his lot all through +the long journey by rail and river and on foot, till they reached their +place of exile; and there he would make a new home in that far-off +country. Sergius had looked forward to this fresh experience with +profound interest. He had only once been out of Knishi, and that was +when Michael and he had driven in the sledge to Kovylsk. He was longing +to travel. He did not care how or where, but a passion for roving had +taken possession of him. + +"Let us go and tell Father Cyril," said Michael. + +Never had Father Cyril been so unhappy as since the order had come to +Knishi for a clean sweeping out of heresy from his parish. He could +not bring himself to acquiesce in the stern decree; though rather than +leave the victims of it to the cruel measures of the Starosta Okhrim, +he had carried the tidings to the unfortunate women whose husbands had +been in prison all the winter. Heartrending scenes he had witnessed, +and harrowing petitions he had listened to, but he could do nothing. +Those few days aged him by years. + +"I cannot bear it!" he sometimes cried when he was alone. + +But still he went about, comforting the sorrowful women, and as far as +possible seeing that no very great injustice was done to them. It was +through him that Yarina bought at fair prices many of the cattle. He +had done all he could to soften the severity of the sentence. + +"I will go and see Tatiania," he said to Michael. + +But his persuasions were useless. + +"Will you give me my child?" she asked. + +"I cannot," he replied sorrowfully; "it is against the order. But she +shall be as one of my own. My poor woman, you must submit to the will +of God." + +"It's not God's will I should be robbed of my child," she replied; "if +He had been pleased to take her to Himself, I would say, 'Thy will be +done!' They are cruel men who have torn her from my arms; and I'll stay +here and die rather than forsake her." + +"Think of your husband and Marfa and Sergius," said Father Cyril. + +"I love her better than all the world," cried Tatiania +passionately—"better than our Lord Himself. God forgive me!" she added, +frightened at the sound of the words she had uttered. + +Marfa shuddered, and Sergius stood aghast. + +Father Cyril spoke softly, with tears in his eyes. + +"Amen! God forgive you, poor mother!" he said. "She does not know what +she is saying." + +He went homewards, pondering in his heart the strange and terrible +problem of how Christians could persecute their fellow-Christians. How +was it possible they could think they were doing God service? To-morrow +nine homesteads would be left desolate, and the hapless women and +children would start on a journey of which many would never reach the +end. And this was done in the name of the Lord, whom both oppressor and +oppressed worshipped. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BLESSING THE HERETICS + +AT night Father Cyril could not sleep. The scenes he had recently +passed through haunted his brain, and drove away sleep. + +On the day that was just past, the last day, he had allowed every +mother to see the children she was compelled to leave behind, for the +last time. Tatiania had not come to say good-bye to little Clava; and +to Father Cyril this seemed the saddest thing of all. He dreaded the +day that was coming; for then the women would be carried away from +their native village, probably never to return. + +They were in his parish, his people, though they did not acknowledge +him. Yet he was absolutely powerless to help them. He had gained a few +alleviations for them. He had obtained permission for Michael to join +the convoy at the nearest railway station, which was two days' march +from Kovylsk. But that was all. + +His brain whirled with useless and hopeless thoughts. Hour after hour +he lay awake, praying for the unhappy people who would rather perish in +Siberian wildernesses than forswear themselves. More than the rest, the +fate of Tatiania and her children perplexed him. + +Between two and three hours before the dawn, he heard stealthy +footsteps pass his window. Most of the rooms were on the ground floor; +and the little chamber where Velia and Clava slept opened out of his +own. Very quietly he got up, and looked cautiously through the window. +It was bright moonlight, and, three shadows, one that of a woman, lay +upon the ground. Very soon he heard a stifled cry. The door into the +children's room fitted badly, and there was a chink wide enough for him +to look through. He recognised Michael and Sergius; Michael was bending +over Velia asleep and softly kissing her hair, whilst Sergius was +holding Clava in his arms, and wrapping a sheepskin about her. Father +Cyril understood in an instant what the boys were going to do. + +He stood spellbound; tears smarting under his eyelids. He had never +doubted for a moment that to take children from their parents was a +crime against God. He had hesitated to carry out the order of the +consistory, but to refuse to obey was simply to give over his parish to +the hands of those who would execute the sentence without mercy. What +was he to do now? + +He watched the silent and rapid movements of the boys, and saw them +give the sleeping child into the stretched out arms of the woman whose +shadow he had seen. They were only going to steal Clava away. He knew +the vital importance of this step for Khariton Kondraty's family. If +they remained in Knishi, to-morrow they would be plunged into the +direst distress. The boys were doing the best thing in their power. +Should he hinder them? + +"No!" he said to himself. "God help them!" + +It was Paraska who received little Clava into her arms; for the boys +had not ventured to tell Tatiania of their desperate scheme. Michael +and Paraska were to start at daybreak in the telega for Kovylsk, and +the child could easily be concealed at the bottom of the cart, till +they were far enough away to be no longer afraid of detection. Once in +Kovylsk, Clava could be included in the convoy, as Kondraty's children, +three in number, were entered on the list. They started at the first +streak of dawn, calling at Tatiania's house, that she might see for +herself that little Clava was with them. Michael was so much excited +that he scarcely thought how he was leaving home again, this time +probably for ever. + +Sleep was farther than ever from Father Cyril's eyes, after what he had +seen. He felt almost as if he was a boy again, rejoicing with the boys' +joy over the success of their enterprise. At any rate, the burden of +Kondraty's family would now be taken from him. + +He had never before been in a parish containing heretics. He was known +throughout the diocese as a very estimable and successful parish +priest in country places. And in consequence he had been chosen to +follow Father Vasili, and had been sent to Knishi to wage war with the +Stundists. He came willingly, with high courage and confident hope. But +instead of finding blasphemous, ignorant, and godless people, he met +with devout and simple Christians, better grounded in the Scriptures +than himself, though ready to listen to him with respectful attention. +Now he saw and shrank from the pitiless spirit of persecution. He had +never been face to face with it before. Well might our Lord say to +His disciples, who wished to command fire to come down from heaven +on the Samaritans, "Ye know not what spirit ye are of." Father Cyril +understood now the spirit of persecution, and he quailed before it. +It might turn cowards into hypocrites, but it could not make true men +forswear their consciences. + +When the Matoushka awoke in the morning, Father Cyril was up and +dressed. His eyes looked heavy, and his whole appearance was dejected. + +"Clava is gone to see her mother," he said briefly; "do not speak of +her to anybody, my dear wife. Take Velia and our little ones into the +forest for the day. I do not wish them to see the women and children +setting off." + +"Is Clava going with her mother?" asked the Matoushka, who sympathised +deeply with Tatiania. + +"It is not quite settled yet," he replied. + +The hour for starting was early, and Father Cyril went down to the +barrier. A crowd of villagers surrounded the carts which were taking +away their old friends and neighbours, probably for ever. There were +nine women, the oldest, Matrona Ivanovna, nearly seventy years of age; +and the youngest just over twenty, with her first baby, only two months +old. Thirteen children were with them, either big boys and girls over +ten years or babies under two years of age. All the children between +those ages were left behind in Knishi. Six out of the nine were bereft +of some of their children. One amongst them was bereft of all, and she +sat in the cart, tearless and speechless, with a look of despair on her +face. The others were weeping and lamenting, calling out the names of +their little ones, and beseeching Father Cyril to take care of each of +them. All except Tatiania, who sat still, with closed eyes, yet with +an expression of secret satisfaction struggling against the sorrow of +quitting her native village. + +Marfa gazed about her with bewildered and sombre eyes. All of them had +been born there, and most of them had never been a day's journey from +Knishi. They were passing out of a familiar and beloved world to enter +into one of which they knew nothing. It would have been less strange to +go to the City of God, whose pearly gates and streets of gold they had +often dreamed about. + +In the crowd, watching their departure, there were brothers and sisters +and other relatives who had not abandoned the Orthodox Church. The +young wife who had a baby two months old had a father and mother gazing +their last at her with tear-dimmed eyes. What crime had their child +committed that she should be torn from them, with scarcely a hope she +should ever see them again? + +Yarina was there, her heart aching for the mothers of the two children +whom she had adopted, who were now holding their little ones in a last +passionate embrace. + +"They shall be as my own," she cried, sobbing; "and when I know where +you go, I will write to you about them." + +The last minute was come, and Matrona stood up in the cart where she +was sitting, and looked round her with eyes dimmed with age. + +"I've lived here sixty-five years," she said, "and now I go away; and +I shall never go to the well again, and never hear the church bells +ringing. Tell me, have I done any one of you any harm? Have you aught +against me? Have I ever refused to help when I could help?" + +"No, no, Matrona Stepanovna!" sobbed Yarina. + +And a shout of "No!" came from the crowd. + +"Then I bid you farewell comforted," said Matrona; "for this I know, +that wherever they send us, we shall be in the hollow of God's hand, +and no man can pluck us out of our Father's hand." + +"Come, we are all ready to start," said the officer who had come to +convey the women and children to Kovylsk. + +Then Father Cyril stretched out his arms in the attitude of blessing. +The Orthodox people knelt down, and the women in the carts bent their +heads, whilst he said in a tremulous voice— + +"'The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts +and minds through Christ Jesus.' . . . 'The grace of the Lord Jesus +Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be +with you all. Amen.'" + +At last the sorrowful cavalcade set off. The banished women stood up +in the carts, and stretched out their arms towards their lost homes, +the hearths where they had rocked their babies, and the roofs that had +sheltered their happy families. The villagers tried to set up a shout, +but they broke down. Now the heretics were going, old animosities and +jealousies were forgotten. These sorrow-laden women and sad boys and +girls were never to return. As they passed slowly out of sight, a low +wailing came back on the wind, and was echoed by the sobs and moans of +the crowd. + +Father Cyril went home, and passed the long day in solitary meditation +and prayer before the altar in his church. He was greatly distressed +in spirit. These exiled men and women were accepted of God; for did +they not fear, ay, and love Him, and work righteousness? Yet they were +despised and rejected of men, oppressed and afflicted, and acquainted +with grief. They were fellow-Christians, disciples of the same Lord, +and yet they persecuted them in His name, and thought that even when +they hounded them to death, they were doing God service. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +IN KOVYLSK + +IN the meantime Michael and Paraska, who had set off at daybreak, were +far on their way across the steppe toward Kovylsk. Until they were +quite safe from recognition, Clava lay at the bottom of the telega, her +sweet little face peeping up from time to time and smiling merrily at +them. She was a small, delicate child, and was easily intimidated, for +she had been tenderly guarded from all unkindness and hardship. After a +while, Paraska took her on her lap, kissing her often, with a mother's +yearning after her own lost children. Her deepest sorrow had befallen +her some years ago. She was accustomed to grief. + +But Michael was not yet benumbed by sorrow. He was troubled, sorely +troubled at leaving his home again; and above all at leaving Velia +behind. True, she could not be better off than in Father Cyril's +house; and though he knew but little of the perils and hardships of +the journey which lay before the exiles, he knew enough to make him +thankful that his young sister was not to share them. But should he +ever see her again? They would be separated by thousands of miles; and +he did not know for how many years his father's term of banishment +would run. He never realised as he did now how much he loved her. + +Velia was four years younger than himself; and he could recollect her +as a little child, following him with tottering feet, and stretching +out her tiny arms to him. Would his mother be watching over her, as +he sometimes felt sure she was near to him? Velia had never felt her +presence as he felt it. Yet, if it was only a fancy that his mother +came to him, it was surely true that God cared for both him and Velia. +"Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without your Father! Are you not +much better than the birds?" he murmured to himself. + +He was not afraid for himself. On the contrary, he looked forward +almost with pleasure to the long and exciting, though forced, journey +he was about to take. What were hardships to him? Many men encountered +them for the sake of money; others from a thirst for adventures. He +would be journeying with his father and his friend Sergius, every step +of the terrible wildernesses through which it was said they would have +to pass. He must keep up heart and courage, that his father might +never have the grief of seeing his spirits flag. Whatever happened, +he must show himself brave and patient and cheerful. He was strong, +and hardened to fatigue by the toils of the past winter. Surely if +a delicate little creature like Clava could live through the long +journey, there could not be anything very dreadful for boys like +Sergius and himself. + +But he felt grieved when his thoughts reverted to Father Cyril; and +he began to realise that he might get into trouble as soon as it was +discovered that little Clava had been stolen away. Michael had written +a letter, which he had left on Clava's bed, imploring Father Cyril, for +God's sake, not to have the child pursued and claimed; begging him not +to betray them to Okhrim the Starosta, or to the police who were to +convey the women and children to Kovylsk. If the child was taken away +again, Tatiania would go mad; and nobody could say what severe measures +might be taken against Sergius and himself. Michael felt tolerably sure +Father Cyril would grant his petition, even at the risk of trouble to +himself. + +When they were about half-way across the steppe, Paraska produced a +leather bag out of her pocket, and addressed Michael with tears in her +eyes, which were red and sunken with much weeping. + +"Michael," she said, "going into exile wants all the money you can get. +I've been saving every kopek I could to go some day to my poor husband +Denim. I forsook him for the sake of my little boys. Take the money; +for there are many of you, and only one of me; and I fear I shall never +save enough." + +"But, Paraska," he answered, "I think you can get leave to join your +husband, if you ask the governor. You might have come with us, if you +were willing to give up all hope of finding your children." + +"Oh, why didn't I know?" she cried. "I shall never find my boys! I'll +come after you, if that's true, Michael. You'll see Demyan first; tell +him I'm coming soon." + +They reached Kovylsk some hours before the arrival of the rough carts +bringing the women and children. Michael drove to the house of a +well-to-do tradesmen, Orthodox himself, but kindly disposed towards the +Stundists, as his wife was secretly a member of the persecuted sect. +He undertook to get Clava smuggled into the prison the next morning, +in time to pass out with the other families. Khariton had given her +name with those of Sergius and Marfa, and it was already entered on +the convoy-list; so no question would be raised on that account. He +promised also to look after Paraska, and get permission for her to join +the next exile party; and f that could not be done, to find work for +her. In Kovylsk it was much easier to escape the notice of the priests +than in the villages; although the archbishop and the consistory were +there. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FATHER CYRIL'S LETTER + +MICHAEL lingered about the prison behind whose walls his father was +confined, until the carts came in carrying his neighbours and their +scanty possessions; for the free exiles were limited in the quantity of +baggage they might take. They were to be lodged for the night in the +city hospital, as the prison was already overcrowded. This would make +it quite easy to restore little Clava to her mother at once; and when +Tatiania cast an anxious glance at him, he nodded back with a smile. +The weary, worn-out women, exhausted with emotion, alighted from the +springless carts, which had jolted heavily and slowly along the muddy, +ill-made roads. Sergius came up to him, and clasped his hands warmly; +and Michael felt a paper pressed into his own. As soon as the party had +entered the hospital, he hurried back to Markovin's house, where he was +to pass the night. He was too much afraid of spies to venture to open +it before. It was a letter from Father Cyril. + + "MY SONS, MICHAEL AND SERGIUS,"—it ran—"I saw you last night taking +away little Clava, but my heart forbade me to prevent it. I prayed +to my God and your God, my Father and your Father, to bless you! For +whosoever is to blame, it is not you. You put your parents before the +priests; and this is the law both of nature and of God. Love your +parents: honour, obey, and cherish them. God gave them to you, and you +to them; and no man can break that bond. You are about to face an army +of difficulties and sorrows, but remember! You can never go where God +is not! I give you two verses to think of daily, 'If I go down into +hell, Thou art there,' and, 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of +the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me: Thy rod +and Thy staff, they comfort me.' Death and hell are filled with the +presence of God. Tell your father again, Michael, that Velia shall be +as my own daughter. Kiss little Clava for me—the dear child! + + "I feel myself, though you acknowledge it not, your father in Christ." + +Michael kissed this letter. And resting his forehead on the hands that +enfolded it, he thought with love and gratitude of Father Cyril. Oh, if +all Batoushkas had only been like him! Then his father and the Stundist +brethren would never have been driven to leave the Orthodox Church. +The boy did not yet know how deeply rooted were the principles which +separated his people from a State religion. He was, however, keenly +awake to the danger there would be to Father Cyril if such a letter was +found in his handwriting. He set himself to learn it by heart; and when +he was satisfied that he knew and would remember every word of it, he +lit a match, and held the burning paper in his fingers till they were +almost scorched, taking care that no vestige of the writing should +remain. + +Markovin looked on with nods of understanding and approval. "A wise +lad! A prudent lad!" he murmured. "His head is screwed on right. I'd +trust him with a secret." + +The next two days Michael drove alone along the route he and his father +had traversed on his return from Scotland. He was to join the band of +convicts and free exiles at the same station; and in the meanwhile +he was charged by his father with the commission to deliver up the +funds of the churches in his district to the man who had been elected +presbyter in the place of Alexis Ivanoff. + +Michael had besides to carry sundry messages from the Stundists in +Kovylsk to the little congregations dwelling in scattered villages. It +was considered safer to employ a boy than a man; and every precaution +was necessary not to arouse suspicion. He reached the station where he +was to join the convict party about an hour before the train was due; +for the first few stages were to be taken in an ordinary train, though +in special carting. + +Michael lingered about the station-yard, anxiously looking out for the +first indication of the approach oft the prisoners. The stationmaster +was raging about the unpunctuality of the prison-convoy. In a siding +stood a small number of comfortless carriages, little better than +cattle trucks, but with benches and a roof. These were set apart for +the exiles. + +At last a confused sound was heard in the distance, which by and by +came more clearly to the ear as the clanking of chains, the harsh +creaking of cart-wheels, the tramp of horses' hoofs, and the cracking +of whips. It was a sound to which Michael was to grow familiar, but now +it seemed to jar through all his being. Both mind and body were shocked +by it; and to the last day of his march with the prisoners the ominous +discord made him shiver. + +For the last few miles the prisoners had been made to march at a rapid +rate, as the convoy feared to be too late for the train. They were +driven like cattle into the yard, with oaths and blows, almost running, +notwithstanding their heavy leg-chains. They were chained two and +two together, which added greatly to the difficulty of marching, and +even the strongest among them came in breathless and exhausted. Those +prisoners who had been confined for some months in narrow cells were +half fainting. + +There were nearly two hundred convicts, all dressed alike in long grey +overcoats. Their heads were closely shaved on one side, looking bare +and blue; whilst on the other side the hair, grown long in prison, +fell in a tangled mass over the ear. Michael could not for some time +recognise his father, whom he had not seen since last autumn. At last +he saw a gaunt, haggard man, in a filthy shirt, and trousers of coarse +grey linen, limping painfully beside a vicious and brutal-looking +criminal. This man smiled at him with a noble serenity in his eyes, and +with a sharp cry of agony, Michael pushed his way through the jostling +crowd, and flung his arms round his father's neck. + +"Father!" he cried. "Father!" + +But before his father could speak, the convict to whom Alexis was +chained pulled him forward with a jerk and an oath. The waggons set +apart for the exiles were rapidly filling up, and he, an old criminal, +knew they must make haste if they wished to secure a seat for the night. + +Khariton Kondraty was close behind, with his wife and children marching +beside him; all of them worn-out and footsore, for they had walked +twenty miles since morning, and for the last hour they had been almost +running. But there was no time to linger, the waggons were being +crammed with women and children and their bundles, amid calls and cries +and an uproar of voices. Sergius was anxious to prevent his mother and +sisters being separated from himself. + +Michael soon found his hands full in helping his old neighbours from +Knishi, lifting the young children into the different compartments, +and looking after their baggage. Some of the strangers who were +accompanying their convict husbands into exile were willing enough to +lose their children for the night, which was rapidly closing in. The +waggon was so overcrowded that many of the children sat on the floor; +and there was no room for Michael and Sergius except standing against +the doors, which were now locked and guarded by the soldiers of the +convoy-guard. + +Tatiania was in a corner beside the boys, with little Clava on her lap, +and Marfa squeezed closely to her side. + +Before the long dark night was over, Michael thanked God fervently that +Velia was not there. For all night long, as the train sped through +the level plains, there was mingled with the rumbling of the wheels, +and the throbbing of the engine, the wailing of children and the loud +hysterical sobbing of women, rising now and then to despairing shrieks. + +Tatiania, who was always an emotional woman, broke down completely, +and wept till she was quite exhausted. Marfa took little Clava on to +her lap, and sang soothing songs to her. But they could do nothing for +Tatiania, only Sergius looked down on his mother with unutterable pity +for her in his heart. + +But it was not the dark night only, it was the long day that followed, +and succeeding days and nights, night and day. They had some hundreds +of miles to travel before they could reach the nearest station on +the Volga, where they would exchange the convict-train for the +convict-barge. The ceaseless motion of the rumbling train became a +positive torture to the cramped bodies, which had no space for moving. +They escaped the torment of extreme heat or excessive cold, for it +was the pleasant spring-tide, and on every side the sweet wind blew +in upon them, carrying away the foul air, which must have collected +in closed carriages. Twice a day the train was stopped for necessary +refreshment, when they could stretch their stiffened and weary limbs. +But the families could hold no intercourse with the convicts, who were +carefully guarded by the convoy to prevent any attempts at escape. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE FORWARDING PRISON + +AT last they reached the forwarding prison, where they had to await +the arrival of the convict-barge which was to take them up the Volga. +Here the fathers were to join their families, and occupy the family +kamera, or ward set apart for those prisoners whose wives had chosen +to accompany them into exile. Through filthy corridors, the women and +children were conducted to a still more filthy kamera. It was a long +and narrow room, with two windows which would not open. No furniture +was in it, except two parallel wooden platforms, each about twelve feet +wide, raised a few inches in the middle, thus giving to them sloping +sides. This was to be their bed, where the whole party was to lie as +closely packed as possible, with heads touching one another in the +middle, from the opposite slopes. There were no pillows, no mattresses, +no bed-clothing of any kind. Russian peasants are a hardy race, not +accustomed to comforts, but this absolute bareness filled the women +with dismay for themselves and their children. Every limb, every bone, +every muscle was aching from their long journey, and these bare planks +formed their only resting-place. There was not even a bench for them to +sit down upon. + +Michael found Katerina, the young mother, sobbing bitterly over her +baby. + +"What is the matter, Katerina?" he asked pityingly. + +"Look at it!" she cried, putting the baby in his arms. "I haven't been +able to wash it for five days. And oh, Michael, it's covered with +horrid things, and so am I." + +The tiny creature's skin was blotched and smeared, and its little face +was terribly disfigured. Michael could hardly find voice to comfort +Katerina. + +"It will be better now," he said at last. "One of the convoy men told +me we were sure to stay here five days or a week. We shall have time to +rest. And, Katerina dear, God knows all about it." + +"Does He?" she asked doubtingly. + +But before he could answer the prisoners came in. Michael flew to +his father and flung his arms round his neck, holding him in a close +embrace; for he could not bear yet to look into his dear, disfigured +face. Khariton met his wife and children in speechless delight, too +happy to find even words of endearment. Michael saw Katerina hanging on +her young husband's arm, no longer sobbing. All the Stundists had their +heads half shaved, like the worst criminals. Sergius and Marfa turned +their eyes away from their father's grief-worn face, but Tatiania +kissed the poor dishonoured head tenderly. + +"We're all together, Khariton!" she cried. "Not one of us is missing. +If we all get through to the end, we shall have a home again." + +"If God wills it!" said Khariton, taking little Clava into his arms. + +Marfa ventured to look at her father, and stole to his side, though +she said nothing. They felt happier than they could have imagined it +possible to be a few hours before. The cramped limbs and aching heads +were almost forgotten. They were together again, with no fear of +separation in the future. + +Alexis and Michael sat hand in hand on the foot of the +sleeping-platform, not able to utter more than a few disjointed +sentences. Alexis had been almost utterly cast down by the discovery of +the clean sweep which had been made of the Stundists in Knishi. They +were all here, with the exception of Nicolas the renegade, and the +children who had been taken from their parents to be brought up in the +Orthodox Church. Whether they were all to be sent to the same place of +exile as himself, or scattered hither and thither in Siberia, he did +not know. Just now he was as much worn-out in mind as in body, and he +could hardly think of his fellow-prisoners. He could only think feebly +of God. From time to time, he muttered absently, "'Persecuted, but not +forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.'" + +Michael sat beside him, stiff and weary in body, but with his mind in a +tumult. This going into exile, on étape, was very different from what +he had imagined. It had seemed beforehand a much lighter experience, +mingled indeed with some elements of adventures and pleasures in the +long march. But to be pent up in railway waggons like cattle trucks, +and be conveyed like cattle from place to place, was quite a different +thing. The cries of little children, the wailing of babies, the sobs +and prayers and curses of women during the long journey, had entered +like iron into his very soul. Hunger and thirst, plank beds and bitter +cold, he had been prepared for, but not for the degradation and the +untold misery and the wickedness that surrounded him. His father was +no longer chained to the brutal murderer who had been his comrade on +the march from Kovylsk, for that man's family had abandoned him. But +there were men and boys in the kamera so evil and depraved that they +did not open their lips without uttering words so vile as to appal him. +How could they hinder the girls and children from hearing the common +conversation around them? He thanked God again that Velia was not there. + +There were women there of the lowest class, degraded to the deepest +corruption, not worthy of the name of women. In the corner near +Katerina and Tatiania, a young lady sat on the edge of the nari, gazing +round with terrified eyes. She was a political prisoner, going into +exile as a suspected person. Children of all ages crawled about the +filthy floor. There was still light enough to see them—unwashed, weary +little ones, with matted hair hanging about their begrimed faces. +There had been no chance of washing for any of them; and some of these +children were too much accustomed to such a condition to be consciously +affected by it. But the Stundists were used to cleanliness, and they +suffered from enforced defilement. They felt degraded and injured +by it. Clava's sweet little face was soiled with dust and tears. +Michael shook himself as if in a rage, as he felt the indescribable +offensiveness of the surroundings. + +Was it possible the archbishop could think he was doing God service +by dooming men and women and children to such a state of misery? +Father Cyril said the archbishop was an eminent servant of the Lord +Jesus Christ, and only desired their salvation. It could not be true. +Either he was quite ignorant of what was being done in his name, or +he belonged to the synagogue of Satan—that terrible congregation of +devil-worshippers, the very name of which made him shudder when he read +the words, "'Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which +say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie.'" + +His father was falling into a troubled sleep beside him, and Michael +heard him muttering in an undertone, "'My God! My God!'" It was the +only prayer his weary, worn-out brain could form. Michael bent over him +and kissed his shaven head reverently. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD + +THE band of exiles had several days' rest before the convict-barge +which was to carry them up the Volga returned. This gave them all +time to recover from their terrible railway journey. The women washed +and mended the clothes. But there was no decent privacy. In the +family kameras men and boys were confined with women and girls in an +indiscriminate herding together. More than anything else, worse than +the filth and the vermin about them, the modest Stundist women felt +this indecent exposure. But there was no help for it. They did not even +dare to hold themselves altogether aloof from the coarse, wretched +women who were forced upon their companionship. + +Alexis and Khariton urged them to do any little act of kindness in +their power both to women and children. They themselves sought to gain +an influence over the men; they talked to them, wrote letters for them, +and made many efforts to interest them and wile away the tedious hours +of idleness. The days dragged heavily along, and most of the men spent +them in gambling and quarrelling. + +Over the big boys and girls, Michael, Sergius, and Marfa soon exercised +a good influence. Michael especially could interest them by long +stories of his voyage out to Scotland and his twelve months' sojourn +there. He could talk for hours of that foreign country; and the boys +squatted round him in the prison-yard, listening with breathless +attention to his tales of his brave forefathers, the Covenanters, their +hairbreadth escapes and courageous deaths. + +So the days passed by, spent altogether out of doors in an enclosed +yard with high palisadings, which shut out all glimpses of the world +outside, excepting the blue sky overhead. But every night they had to +herd in the unventilated kamera, reeking with foul air, and swarming +with vermin. It was better at night than in the morning, for the open +door had admitted some fresh air. But after the kamera had been closed +an hour or two, the atmosphere was poisonous. This misery would follow +them all along the route to the very end. + +At last the convict-barge arrived, and the men were separated from the +women and children. More convicts joined the band from Kovylsk, and +there was much overcrowding. But this was nothing like as bad as it +would be later in the year, when the bands of exiles would be larger. +There was no yard here to pass the days in. Instead were two big cages +of strong bars, in which the exiles were able to stand upright, though +it was almost impossible to move easily about. In the railway waggons +they had been compelled to sit, and could not stand. Here they were +compelled to stand, and could not sit. But unless they stayed in the +foul atmosphere of the cabins below, which no fresh air could enter, +they must stand all day long, closely packed in these cages, more like +wild beasts than human beings. + +It was early summer. Day after day—the sun shining joyously on the +rejoicing earth; the happy, free peasants pausing at their labour on +the banks of the river to watch the convict-barge go by; the merry +sound of church bells ringing—the laughter of girls at the washing +platforms—the singing of the larks and the calling of the cuckoo +filling the air—day after day, through all this gladness, the terrible +load of untold misery sailed up the Volga. Yet this was only one +amongst many that would follow in their wake until the winter came. But +the day was better far than the night, when they were fastened down +below, and the atmosphere in the cabin grew so heavy and polluted they +could hardly breathe it. + +They left the barge, as they had left the train, with the sense of +relief which any change in misery brings. There was a short journey +by railway again; and then, because there had been a landslip on the +line farther on, it was decided that the convoy should take the old +route along the Great Siberian Road. The exiles left the train with +the idea that the worst lay behind them. For now they would be able to +move freely; they would live in the open air, and at present the early +summer was full of sweetness and beauty. + +The country through which they passed was carpeted with gay flowers, +and the road led through meadows and forests, along valleys, and +over the flanks of mountains. Here and there were village streets +stretching for a mile or two along the sides of the road. Cattle were +browsing on the common pastureland, and corn was shooting up rapidly +under the sunshine, which was growing hotter every day. The cloudless +sky above them, and the sweet fresh air breathing softly about them, +revived the spirits of Michael and Sergius. This was something like +what they had anticipated. Little Clava, too, regained her merry ways +in some measure, as the children were free to run where they chose, +and pick the flowers, provided they kept up with the convoy. Sometimes +the convoy-guards were kindly and indulgent, but when the guards were +changed they proved often to be impatient and even brutal men. But as +the march was a steady one, and about twenty miles a day, there was not +much time for rambling among the flowers, and it was forbidden to lag +behind. There were rough, springless carts for carrying the children +under twelve, as well as the men and women who were too ill to walk. +But little Clava did not ride in the cart. Michael and Sergius said +they would carry her on their backs whenever she was tired, along the +Great Siberian Road. Tatiania was only too glad to keep her darling by +her side. + +But Marfa was suffering in silence more than any of them suspected. She +had spent the winter indoors with her mother, who would not let her out +of her sight, and this confinement had sapped her strength before she +set out on this sorrowful journey. The scenes she had passed through, +of which she had formed even less idea than Michael and Sergius, had +given her a more severe mental shock than they had felt. Everything had +revolted her. But above all, the infamous and abandoned men and women +with whom she had been brought into close contact were insufferably +loathsome to her. She felt herself in a hellish atmosphere, amid a +band of monsters, from whom she could not escape. Her mind as well as +her body was ailing. Though she was not separated from her family, an +indescribable home-sickness took possession of her. She longed with a +hopeless longing to see once more her old home at Knishi. + +Marfa kept her grief, which was gnawing at her heart, to herself. But +the home-sickness grew greater as every day took her farther away from +her birthplace. They had not yet passed the boundary which separates +Russia from Siberia. The exiles were still in their native land. But +presently they reached the frontier. A midday halt was called around a +square stone pillar, about twice the height of a man, on one side of +which lay Russia, and on the other Siberia. It was half-way between the +last Russian étape and the first Siberian one; and the cavalcade, with +its convoy-guard, its chained prisoners, its carts laden with children +and invalids, and its families of free exiles, rested for a short time +at this place of farewell. + +The midday halt was usually a time of relief and comparative enjoyment. +But to-day there was a universal outburst of grief. Even the most +brutal and most stupid of the criminals wept at the thought of quitting +Russia—their fatherland. Scarcely one among them had ever trodden a +foreign soil. Most of the women knelt down, with sobs and prayers. The +Stundists stood bareheaded, looking away from the boundary posts to the +western land, and taking a last submissive gaze at the dear country +they were leaving for conscience' sake. Michael and Sergius, linked arm +in arm, leaned sorrowfully against the pillar. Suddenly a wild shriek +rang through the sobs and groans of the crowd, and looking round they +saw Marfa falling forward against the foot of the pillar, close to the +spot where they were standing. + +She was quite insensible when they lifted her up. As soon as the order +to march forward was given, they carried her to one of the rude carts, +at the bottom of which she lay on a little straw, and Tatiania obtained +permission to go with her. She was not quite conscious when they +reached the étape in the evening. The family kamera was overcrowded as +usual, and all they could do for Marfa was to lay her on the hard, bare +planks of the sleeping-platform. All night did Khariton and Tatiania +watch waking by their delirious child, able to do nothing for her, and +only longing for the return of daylight. Fortunately the nights were +short, and a dim dawn soon shone through the dirty casements of the +étape. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +SERGIUS + +FOR the first time in his life, Sergius began to realise how much his +sister Marfa was to him. She had always been so quiet and reserved, so +passive, that she had seemed almost a cipher in the family. Tatiania, +his mother, with her lively, impulsive temperament, and Clava, with +her coaxing, merry ways, had nearly engrossed his own and his father's +regard. None of them had paid much attention to Marfa, either in their +home in Knishi or during the long journey which already separated them +from it by many hundreds of miles. + +But Marfa was no cipher. She was a thoughtful, pensive girl, with very +limited powers of putting her inmost thoughts into speech. Her mother +was so fluent that she was reduced to silence; there was no need for +her to speak. At home she had often done all the housework diligently +and steadily, whilst her mother visited the neighbours, or read the +Bible sitting close to the warm stove. It was taken for granted that +Marfa liked work better than reading. A strong sense of duty possessed +her, strengthened by a constant study of the little New Testament which +her father had given to her as soon as she could read, and which she +always carried in her pocket. Perhaps more than any other woman or girl +among the exiled Stundists, Marfa understood why they were banished +from their native country. + +What she suffered when she bade farewell to the home of her childhood, +no one knew but herself. Not a murmur had escaped her quiet lips. +Through the wretched railway journey, and the still more trying voyage +for many days in the crowded convict-barge, she had not uttered a +word of complaint. Often she had taken little Clava from her mother's +arms, when Tatiania was moaning and praying alternately, and the girl +of thirteen would nurse the child of seven until her young limbs grew +stiff and ached with pain. The long and bitter winter preceding their +exile, followed by the great strain upon her strength during the +journey, had at length broken down her silent courage and endurance. +The shock of emotion caused by passing the boundary, and witnessing the +uncontrollable distress of the whole band of convicts and exiles, had +been the last blow on her breaking heart. + +The next morning Marfa was laid in one of the telegas which carried +those unable to walk, and the march set out again. There were no seats +in these rough, springless carts, and only a thin sprinkling of hay was +laid in the bottom of each. Three women lay or crouched beside her. In +front of the telegas went a convoy of soldiers, and behind them was +the band of chained convicts, shuffling along in low shoes, with their +heavy leg-fetters weighing upon them, and now and then clanging against +their ankles. Behind the telegas came the baggage-waggons, followed by +the free exiles, and the women and the children over twelve years of +age who were following their husbands and fathers. After these was a +rear-guard of soldiers. + +It was full summer now. The sun beat upon the dried-up road, and the +dust lay inches thick. The long procession numbered hundreds, and at +every footfall the fine, pulverised earth rose in quantities, until +the whole cavalcade was almost hidden in a cloud of yellow dust, +suffocating to all who breathed it, but to those who were ill, this +atmosphere was almost deadly. + +Marfa lay along the bottom of the narrow telega, with her head on the +lap of a convict who was suffering from asthma, and who could only +breathe at all when sitting upright. The woman was gentle and kindly, +but there was no escape from the terrible jolting of the springless +cart, and the dust-laden air which set the asthmatic convict coughing, +and shook her whole body. Marfa looked up into her face pitifully, but +what could she do and say to comfort the poor woman? Fever was burning +in all her veins, and the heat of the sultry sun seemed to scorch every +nerve. She was conscious now, and alive to all the anguish of her +position. But her weary brain was unable to recall some memory which +haunted it. + +"Who was it said, 'I thirst'?" she asked, looking up into the face +leaning over her, in an interval of rest from the racking cough. + +"I don't know, dear," answered the woman; "nobody in particular. We all +say it." + +"Living waters!" murmured Marfa. "Somewhere there are living waters." + +"I wish they were here," said the woman. + +"In the cup of salvation," whispered Marfa to herself. + +The woman shook her head, smiling bitterly. + +When the midday halt was called, Sergius and Michael rushed to the +telega, followed more slowly by Tatiania and little Clava. But Marfa +did not recognise them. She was lying quietly, however, and the +friendly convict was sitting in a cramped position to give her more +room. They bought some tepid water from the peasants who brought +provisions for sale, and she drank a little, but she could eat nothing. + +"What can we do?" cried Tatiania, wringing her hands. Whilst little +Clava climbed into the cart, and crept close to Marfa's side. + +"Nothing, nothing!" replied the convict sadly. "We have days to travel +yet before we reach any hospital. If I were her mother, I'd pray God +night and day to take her to Himself soon, rather than leave her alone +in a prison hospital. Soon! O Mother of God! Soon! This misery is more +than a child can bear." + +The halt came to an end too quickly, and clouds of dust rose again, +hanging over and travelling along with the melancholy procession. +Michael and Sergius fell back to their own places, panting with the +intense heat and suffocating air. But what was their suffering compared +with that of the women and children, especially those who were ill like +Marfa! + +"Michael," said Sergius, "do you know how far we have to march like +this?" + +"More than two thousand miles," answered Michael; "father told me +last night, when I was thinking of Marfa. We are to go at a rate of +about one hundred miles in six days. We can't get to the end before +next February, or perhaps March, if the winter is a bad one and we are +detained on the road." + +"Marfa can never live through that!" exclaimed Sergius. + +"No," replied Michael. + +"Nor little Clava," Sergius continued; "she's too young and too tender! +Oh, Michael! If we'd only left her with Father Cyril!" + +"But you forget," said Michael, "your mother refused to come without +her." + +They walked on in silence for a few minutes; and then Sergius spoke +under his breath, with a faltering voice. + +"Michael," he said, "I feel it would do me good to curse the archbishop +and the consistory." + +"So do I!" exclaimed Michael. + +The two boys halted, gazing into each other's faces, till a sharp cry +of command brought them back to recollection. + +"No, no! It would grieve my father!" said Michael. + +"And mine!" Sergius added. + +Again they marched on silently, each pondering in his own heart the +temptation that had just assailed them. + +"You could not have stayed behind in Knishi," said Michael at last; +"you must have starved, all of you, or given up your religion. Even if +we all die, it will be better than that." + +"Yes," answered Sergius; "father was reading to us last night, and he +made me learn the verses. I was glad to learn them, for the Apostle +Paul said them about himself: 'Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was +I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in +the deep; in journeyings often, perils of waters, perils of robbers, +perils by my own countrymen, perils by the heathen, perils in the city, +perils in the wilderness, perils among false brethren; in weariness +and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings +often, in cold and nakedness!' We've suffered nothing like that yet, +Michael." + +"No, but we may do, if we live to be as old as he was," said Michael. + +"And oh," continued Sergius, with a sob, "the Apostle Paul hadn't got +his mother and his little sisters with him!" + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MARFA'S FUNERAL + +DAY after day passed by. The burning sun beat down upon the exiles, +scorching their skin and almost blinding their eyes. The fettered +convicts could hardly drag their feet along the hot dust; and the women +lagged behind in a straggling line. The convoy-guards grew irritable, +and more brutal than in milder weather. They too suffered, but there +was no despair added to their sufferings. They had only certain stages +to travel, and then they would hand over their charge to a fresh +captain and guard. + +Every third day there was a respite. After two days' march came a day +of rest. Then the sick people were delivered from the choking dust and +rough jolting of the telegas. Marfa could lie during the day out of +doors under the shadow of the prison walls, with all her friends about +her. They listened to her plaintive wanderings in delirium, now and +then catching a gleam of recognition or a word or two of intelligence. + +But the fever was high, and there was no alleviation for it. Anna +Grigorovna, the friendly convict, did her utmost to comfort Tatiania, +and reconcile her to Marfa's death. But she refused all consolation. +Anna had no children, and knew nothing of a mother's heart. If only +she could sit beside her dying girl, she would be satisfied. But +that they all knew it was utterly useless to ask. The telegas were +already overladen, and some of the children were carried on the +baggage-waggons. Tatiania was in fair health, and quite able to walk. + +"Even if I could walk," said Anna, "they would not let me give up my +place to you." + +She was dying slowly of consumption, and knew she must be left behind +in one of the few prison hospitals along the Great Siberian Road. +Though she dreaded the place, she was longing for the rest she would +find there, if the death she prayed for did not overtake her before +they reached it. She longed to die before she was parted from this +strange little band of Stundists, whose company she had sought because +of their quiet and decent ways. What astonished her was that not one +among them murmured at their hard lot—excepting Tatiania, who only +lamented not being able to ride with her dying girl in the telega. For +that Marfa would die there was no shadow of a doubt. + +Khariton prayed in his inmost heart that death would come soon, but +Tatiania could not bring herself even to say, "God's will be done!" + +Two or three children had perished already on the route, from the foul +air and from the utter impossibility of cleanliness. None of them +were Stundists' children; and their mothers had grown apathetic with +despair, and were almost glad to be rid of a charge which became every +day more and more burdensome. + +But Marfa had been an unfailing, untiring help, not a burden. What +should they do without her? To see her lying in the creaking, jolting +telega, with the fierce sun smiting her, was maddening to her mother. + +They came at length to the last stage before they could reach a +hospital. Two days' march would bring them to it, and there they must +leave Marfa and the friendly convict Anna. Every one of the little +band of Stundists dreaded the day when Khariton and Tatiania must bid +farewell for ever to their daughter, and abandon her to a lonely death. +Khariton marched all day with bowed-down head and speechless lips. +Tatiania wept bitter tears. Sergius and Michael walked side by side, +now and then clasping one another's hands, but unable to talk together, +as they usually did. Even little Clava, whom they carried by turns, was +very quiet and languid, as if she understood their sorrow. + +Marfa was carried into the overcrowded kamera, unventilated, and +reeking with foul air, and heated with the sultry sun which had beaten +upon the low roof all day. The convoy captain was a humane man, and +allowed some of the exiles to sleep outside on the ground of the +prison-yard. But within the kameras the men and women could hardly +breathe; and the dying girl lay panting on the plank sleeping-platform. +But even that was comfort compared with the jolting telega. Her mother +lay beside her, and little Clava crept close to her on the other side. +Her father and Alexis, Sergius, and Michael stood near; and in that +corner of the kamera a comparative stillness prevailed; for their +fellow-exiles had learned to respect the Stundists. And one of them was +dying. + +"The end is coming, thank God!" said Anna, turning away and leaving +Marfa alone with her own people. + +She was quite conscious now, but too weak to lift her hand or turn her +head towards her mother, whose sobs filled her dying ear. She could see +them who stood at her feet, and a very peaceful smile came over her +wasted face. + +"Father," she said faintly, "tell mother I'm really going home." + +"I'm here, my darling!" sobbed Tatiania, putting her arm across her. + +"Home you know," she repeated; "not to Knishi—but to be with the Lord. +He says, 'To-day shalt thou be with Me in paradise.' It's better than +living." + +She could hardly gasp out the words, but her voice was clear, and they +heard her distinctly amid all the din and racket of the crowded kamera. +Once more she smiled very peacefully upon them, her eyes resting upon +each one with a look of recognition. + +"You will all come," she murmured; "I shall be looking out for you." + +She closed her tired eyelids, and seemed to fall asleep in her mother's +arms. All night she lay there, breathing softly, but as the first rays +of light dawned, they saw her spirit pass away in peaceful silence. +It was the third day, the day for resting twenty-four hours, and so +they were able to see the body laid decently away in the grave. The +cemetery of the little Siberian village lay near the étape, and all the +free exiles were at liberty to go to it, though none of the men, being +convicts, could attend Marfa's funeral. All the Stundist women and +children went. + +The open plain surrounding the cemetery was bright with flowers, and +the hum of bees filled the air. It was too hot for the birds to sing. +Many of the graves had black crosses at the head, and were fenced +in by gaily-coloured rails. The letters I.H.S. were painted on one +of the arms of the crosses, and on some of them there was a rude +representation in white paint of the Lord crucified. + +As yet, in this far distant and isolated village, with leagues of +uninhabited country surrounding it, there was no inclination to refuse +burial to a Stundist. The old parish priest was willing, so that he +got his dues, to let them bury their dead as they pleased. In the case +of paupers, such as this dead exile must be, it was usual to let the +relatives dig the grave and lay the body in it; and in course of time, +when a sufficient number were interred, the funeral service was read +over all the graves together. Michael and Sergius dug Marfa's grave. + +The women and children stood round the grave in silence, whilst the +boys lowered the rude coffin into it. They were all still alive, those +who had left Knishi, but they were emaciated and broken down, the +shadows of their former selves. Katerina carried her baby in her arms, +but the tiny face that looked up at her was starved and shrivelled, +with dull, solemn eyes, and a tremulous, unsatisfied movement on the +lips that would never learn to speak. Little Clava was thin and wasted, +and every day made her a lighter weight for Michael and Sergius to +carry across Siberia. + +There was no man to pray, but Matrona stood at the head of the grave, +and read, in a voice faltering with old age and pity, these words— + + "And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which +are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? + + "And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are +they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, +and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. + + "Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and +night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell +among them. + + "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the +sun light on them, nor any heat. + + "For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and +shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe +away all tears from their eyes." + +So they buried Marfa thousands of miles away from her beloved home. +She who had never been separated from her own people for a single day, +was to lie in a grave that not one of them could visit and weep over. +To-morrow they would be already miles away from this sacred spot, and +the end of their journey would place still more thousands of miles +between them and the lonely grave. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE PRISON HOSPITAL + +TWO days later the exiles reached the city prison, larger than the +roadside étapes, which possessed a hospital. Anna Grigorovna had been +looking forward eagerly to the hour when she would be delivered from +the suffocating dust, the burning sun, and the jolting cart, and lie +down in a quiet cot in a hospital ward, which she would never leave +again. She had kept herself aloof from her fellow-convicts, and there +would be no painful last farewells. + +The last evening, when they reached the half-way étape, she sought +the company of the Stundists. It had become the custom, as far as +possible, for the better class of exiles to keep together in the +kameras, avoiding the drunken and more degraded convicts. The Stundist +men alone mingled freely with them, seeking earnestly any opportunity +of lifting them a little out of the deep mire of their debasement. The +band of exiles had been so long together, that they knew one another +as intimately as the inhabitants of the same village. On the whole, +the Stundists, both men and women, were regarded favourably by their +fellow-exiles, to whom they were always ready to render any kindness. + +Anna Grigorovna, who had seldom spoken to anyone, seemed to-night +anxious to talk with the kindly comrades who must leave her for ever +to-morrow. She sat on the edge of the nari, where Tatiania was lying +speechless and tearless, and listened attentively to Alexis as he +explained to her the simple creed of his sect. + +"It is very beautiful," she said, with a sigh; "you believe that in +very truth Jesus Christ, being equal with God, left His throne in +heaven and came down to this earth, becoming a poor working-man, and +dying a shameful death for our sakes. So He sacrificed all for our +salvation." + +"We believe it," said Alexis; and Khariton bowed his head in assent. + +Tatiania lifted up her trembling hand; and Michael and Sergius cried, +"Yes, we believe it!" + +"You believe," she went on, "that He who was crucified Himself knows +all your sorrows and sufferings;—nay! I've heard you say He is here, +seeing all and knowing all." + +"Yes," answered Alexis; "because He said, 'Lo, I am with you alway, +even unto the end of the world.'" + +"You believe," she continued, "that without any priest, or any form of +prayer, you may ask God Almighty for all you want, as a child asks his +father." + +"We believe it," replied Alexis, "but with this reservation, that what +we ask is in accord with His will. A child may ask for a scorpion or +for a burning coal." + +"Would to God I could believe as you do!" said Anna, with a sob. "Do +you know that I, too, have sacrificed all, and given up my life for the +sake of the people?" + +"We know it," answered Alexis; "and God knows it. Be sure He who made +the greatest sacrifice of all will not overlook it. He is not far from +you, and you are drawing nigh to Him." + +It was the evening of the next day when they reached the prison, where +there was a hospital. It stood in one corner of the high stockade which +enclosed all the prison buildings, a low-roofed kamera, very much like +the rest. There was to be the usual third days' halt here, and the next +morning the prison-yard was thronged with exiles. The men lounged under +the walls, smoking and gambling, whilst the women washed and mended, +or crouched on the ground gossiping. It was intensely hot again, and +all were glad to rest as quietly as possible. Before the day was over, +Michael and Sergius heard their names called in a shrill voice. A woman +was standing at the door of the hospital, and they ran to her. + +"A convict who came in here last night wants to see you," she said, +looking with open admiration at the two sturdy, sunburnt boys; "she +says she is fond of boys, and I don't wonder at it. We don't see many +of your sort here." + +They followed the woman into a filthy corridor, where the floor was +thickly covered with all kinds of sweepings and slops from the wards. +A noisome stench pervaded it, even worse than the foul air of the +kamera to which they were so well used. With the tainted atmosphere of +disease and rotting refuse was mingled the sickening odour of drugs and +liniments. Michael and Sergius could hardly breathe, but they followed +the woman in silence, keeping their lips closely shut. + +But if the air was poisonous in the corridor, it was far worse in +the women's ward. There were a number of low, narrow cots, placed so +close together that there was barely room to pass between each pair of +them, and as the suffering women lay, they breathed and coughed into +each other's faces. But those who lay in the cots were well off, for +the dirty floor was strewn with wretched creatures wherever there was +sufficient space for them. These were packed as closely as the convicts +in the kameras, and could not stir without disturbing their companions +on either side. There was no ventilation except a few holes in the +walls, for the windows would not open, and the cots were ranged against +them. There was a dim light only, for the glass panes were thick with +dust, and had, moreover, a coat of white paint obscuring them. In the +grey gloom, surrounded by pallid and fevered faces, the boys were at a +loss to find Anna, until they heard the racking cough with which they +had grown familiar during Marfa's illness. They stepped carefully among +the crowd of sick folk. + +Anna was stretched on the ground, almost under a cot. A thin straw +palliasse lay below her, but the sheet which had been thrown over +her was ragged and bloodstained. It was impossible for her to raise +herself, even when her throat and chest were most convulsed with +coughing. She was choking now; and Michael knelt beside her, and put +his arm under her head, until the paroxysm had passed away. + +"This is hell!" she gasped, as soon as she could speak. + +"Man makes it, not God!" cried Michael. Father Cyril's letter came +into his mind, and he said in a low voice, "'If I make my bed in hell, +Thou art there!'" + +The dying woman looked up at him with anguish in her eyes. + +"Thank God, Marfa died before we came here!" exclaimed Sergius, looking +round with horror at the agonised forms and distorted faces of the +women, whose mouths were open, gasping for breath in the suffocating +atmosphere, and whose staring, feverish eyes wandered hopelessly in +search of relief. + +In a corner, on a layer of straw, five children were huddled together. +The eldest was about seven years old, the youngest about five months. +They were tossing to and fro, and wailing with the peculiarly piteous +cry of ailing children. Sergius went to them, and sat down on the floor +with the baby in his arms, after he had soothed the elder children, and +given each of them some tepid water to drink. + +"Their crying maddens me," said Anna; "all night long they were +moaning, and I could do nothing for them, poor little creatures! We +were locked up all night, with no nurse to help any one of us. One of +the women died in the night, and lay there till the morning. Michael, +this is the worst hell of all! I prayed to God to let me die too, but +He did not hear me." + +"He must have heard you," Michael answered, "because He is here." + +"Not here! Not here!" cried Anna. + +"I'm only a boy, and I hardly know how to say it," answered Michael, +"but if I was here, I'd rather think God was here too, knowing all +about me, and all I had to bear, than think that the devil was reigning +here, with nobody stronger than he was, like the Czar." + +"But how can God let it be?" she asked. + +"We don't know yet," replied Michael, looking round with appalled eyes, +"but this I do know, I'd rather be here than be one of the people who +send us here. God knows them too! Oh, I wish my father could come and +pray for you!" + +"Do you pray for me," she said; "God will listen to an innocent soul +like yours. Beseech Him to let me die this minute! Beseech Him to send +the angel of death to sweep this place of all its misery. Let us all +die at once, and then something will be done. But we go one by one, and +nobody cares." + +Her voice fell into sobs. + +Michael was still kneeling beside her, and over him hung the yellow, +withered face of an old woman, in the cot above listening eagerly to +what was being said. + +"I dare not ask God that," he answered; "our Lord does not teach us to +pray for things like that. He bade us say, 'Thy kingdom come. Thy will +be done.' I can say our Lord's Prayer for you." + +"Say it," she whispered. + +The boy's clear young voice sounded distinctly through the ward, as he +lifted up his head, and said "'Our Father!'" + +The moans and cries ceased for the time, and pallid faces were turned +to him. Some of the parched lips murmured the familiar words, as +the women recalled the years when they were children, and said this +prayer at their mothers' sides, in the old church at home. For a +very brief space there was a lull in their misery—a moment or two of +forgetfulness. They too, even they, had a Father in heaven. + +Anna lay passive, with tears stealing down her cheeks. + +"That is good," she said, when the prayer was ended. "After all, I +shall soon know the great secret. Michael, I have a commission to +charge you with." + +She begged him to let her friends know that she was dead, as soon as +he could, but not to pain them by details of her misery. He repeated +the address she gave to him, and called Sergius to commit it to memory. +Then Anna lifted up her feeble hand and touched his cheek. + +"Kiss me!" she said. "I have a young brother Michael like you at +home. Oh, how he will miss me, and mourn for me! Kiss me, and bid me +good-bye." + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +MONTH AFTER MONTH + +A GREAT change came over Tatiania. Instead of being a woman of many +moods, she had now but one—an almost silent but peaceful resignation. +Day after day she paced silently along the hot and dusty road, with +downcast head, and feet that grew ever more languid. She never grumbled +at the heat and weariness, and she greeted Khariton, when he joined +her at the étapes in the evening, with a placid smile. To Sergius and +little Clava she was more tender than ever in their happy days at home. +For now she knew that neither she nor Clava could live through the +march that lay before them. In some roadside jail they must lie down to +die, and she began to long for the time to come. + +With the rest of the Stundist band, the joy of martyrdom was constantly +growing and deepening. A sense of triumph filled their inmost souls. +They had proved to themselves, beyond a doubt, that their love for +Christ and truth was stronger than any other love. A secret peace, +passing all understanding, filled their minds. The hymns they sang +night and morning were full of an enthusiastic gladness. They chose +hymns of praise in preference to any others. Their voices were well +harmonised, and the melody of their hymn tunes attracted their +fellow-exiles. These, especially the women, sometimes joined in the +singing; and it was not often that the convoy-guard interfered with +them. The Stundists gave no trouble; on the contrary, they exercised a +wholesome influence over the whole company. + +Little Clava was gradually losing all her frolicsome and merry ways, +and she became a lighter burden to the boys week after week. They had +never let her travel with the other little ones in a closely packed +telega, where they fought together, and cried and screamed all day long. + +Michael and Sergius were saddened. The long march, which had now +lasted many weeks, was not without its charm for them. They did not +shrink from its hardships. True, they were often hungry and thirsty, +but that was the common lot of poor travellers. They were dirty and in +rags, that was little and inevitable. They marched barefoot, that was +their custom in the summer. They were quite prepared to endure greater +hardships than these. They were passing through strange scenery, which +had great charms for them. Now winding through the gloomy shades of +vast forests; then crossing steppes which seemed boundless; creeping +along the margin of swift rivers, and being rowed across them on rude +ferryboats; climbing up steep mountain-paths, and going down again into +beautiful valleys. They marched from twenty to twenty-five miles a +day; not often more quickly than at the rate of two miles an hour, on +account of the convicts burdened with leg-fetters, the heavy waggons, +and the women walking in the wake of the men. Ten or twelve hours a day +they were out in the open air, with the bright, though burning, blue of +the cloudless sky above them. + +Michael and Sergius, hardy as young bears, enjoyed these long marches. +Besides all this, the enthusiasm of the Stundist band filled their +hearts. The sober triumph of the men rose to rapture in the boys. + +Still, they could not shut their eyes to the grief and misery which +perpetually surrounded them. The faces of the exiles, burnt to +blackness by the sun, wore a look of stolid despair, into which +they had sunk after the first rage and anguish at their position +had subsided. Here was a small batch of human beings, some of them +dangerous criminals, cut off from all association with the outer world +by a living wall of armed soldiers, some of whom were irreclaimable +brutes. As they marched on, their living prison walls moved with them, +uttering stern threats and menacing oaths. Already each one knew all +his comrades, and all that those comrades chose to tell. A profound +and stupefying dulness fell upon them. Day after day they marched on +like men in a dream; the only break in the monotony being the change +of guards at various stages. To-day was like yesterday, and to-morrow +would be as to-day. + +They knew, too, that, isolated and solitary as they were, there was +another band of banished men and women, precisely like themselves, +pacing the same road only a few days in advance; and that behind them, +week after week, hearts as heavy and hard as their own were beating +along the same dolorous way. For scores of years this sad procession +had been passing along the Great Siberian Road. They had left traces of +themselves, messages written on the dirty walls of the étapes, many of +which were undecipherable from age. + +The boys' spirits could not fail to be touched by this apathy of +hopeless wretchedness. They could feel for it, though they did not feel +it themselves. What amazed them was that most of the exiles turned a +deaf ear to all the teaching of the Bible, which filled the Stundists +with divine courage and strength. They could not hear the heavenly +music or see the heavenly light which filled their own souls. + +Yet a certain lethargy fell upon them. They walked for hours side +by side in silence, only now and then glancing sympathetically at +one another, as they took in turns the burden, alas! very light now, +of little Clava, who was growing smaller and weaker every day. She +scarcely ever set her foot to the ground now. + +"What are you thinking of?" asked Sergius one day, after a long +silence. The jingle of the clanking chains and the creaking of the +cart-wheels had become insupportable to him. + +"I began," answered Michael, "by wishing God would let me bear all +these troubles, and let the rest go free, but a voice in my heart said +to me that could not be, every man must bear his own burden. Then the +thought came to me, that was just what our Lord felt, when He looked +down from heaven, and saw all the misery and all the oppression under +the sun. So He came, and He did bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. +Then the same voice told me He was bearing them now, even in heaven, at +the right hand of God. Surely, if He shares our troubles, we can bear +them. We are following our Captain, and must be like brave soldiers, +fighting manfully under His banner." + +"Yes," said Sergius, stepping out more energetically; "look at my +father and yours, Michael. Always same, brave and faithful. But my +mother! And little Clava! We can't expect them to feel like soldiers. +They feel the hardships worse than we do. Katerina's baby is dead; and +another baby died last night while were asleep. They have put it there, +in the baggage-waggon. Only the strongest children will reach the end +of the journey." + +"Where will the other children go?" asked Clava, with her languid head +resting on his shoulder. "Where shall I go, Serge?" + +Sergius could not speak, but Michael answered in a cheerful, reassuring +tone— + +"Why, my little darling," he said, "you know they go to heaven, where +there are beautiful gardens, and happy places for little children to +live in. Marfa is there; and the Lord Jesus takes the little ones into +His arms, and wipes away all their tears, and there is no more crying +for ever and ever!" + +"For ever and ever!" repeated the child, with a wan smile. "But, +Michael, do you hear the children crying in the telega? Why doesn't the +Lord Jesus take them all away into His beautiful garden, and keep them +there for ever and ever? Oh, Michael, I wish He would take me!" + +"Do you want to go?" asked Michael. + +"If father and mother and Serge and you could go too," she said +wistfully; "I'd be so alone by myself." + +"But Marfa is there," Michael replied. + +"Ah, Marfa! I forgot," she said, in a tone of content. + +They plodded on in silence after this short conversation, until the +midday halt was called, when Michael carried little Clava to her +mother, and Sergius followed with their bag of coarse food, of which +neither Tatiania nor her child could eat much. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE EXILES' BEGGING SONG + +SO the protracted, monotonous march went on; the only change, a change +of guards. Some of these made the life more wretched than others; +and now and then a captain would compel the whole cavalcade to make +a forced march in quicker time than usual, if business or pleasure +awaited him in the town they were approaching. Of the towns the exiles +saw nothing, but in the villages on their route they were allowed to +beg from the inhabitants; for the allowance of money made to each +person by the Government was a pitiful pittance, quite too little to +sustain life on the merest necessities. + +As they drew near to a village, the chained prisoners let their fetters +clink and jingle as loudly as possible, to call attention to their +passing by. The shrill ring formed an accompaniment to the convicts' +begging song, which each man sang, not in unison, but in an almost +tuneless chant, which, however, had a heart-shaking modulation of its +own. + + "Have pity on us, O our fathers! + Don't forgot the unwilling travellers, + Don't forgot the long-imprisoned. + Feed us, O our father!—Help us! + + "Feed and help the poor and needy! + Have compassion, O our fathers! + Have compassion, O our mothers! + For the sake of Christ, have mercy + On the prisoners—the shut-up ones! + Behind walls of stone and gratings, + Behind oaken doors and padlocks, + Behind bars and locks of iron, + We are held in close confinement. + We have parted from our fathers, + From our mothers; + We from all our kin have parted, + We are prisoners; + Pity us, O our fathers!" + +This mournful chant rang on far in advance, and the pitiful notes +brought many a peasant to the door, with half a loaf of bread or a few +handfuls of meal. The Stundists were usually deputed to beg, as they +could be trusted not to secrete any alms that might take the shape +of money or tobacco. Alexis, with his grave and noble face, and old +Matrona, whose bowed shoulders and wrinkled features appealed strongly +for pity, were the most successful suppliants. The placid and grateful +old woman often moved the peasant women to tears. + +"You're too old to go on étape, mother," they said. + +"I go with my only son," she would answer. + +"God pity you both!" exclaimed the peasants. + +"He pities us, and loves us too," said Matrona, with her peaceful smile. + +When the midday halt was called, the food collected by the way was +divided among them all. A rough sense of fairness and comradeship +prevailed among this band of murderers, robbers, and criminals of +various kinds and degrees; besides the political prisoners and +persecuted Stundists. They slept under the same roof, and traversed +side by side the same road; their lives were absolutely similar, as far +as the Government could make them. + +The autumn came, and with the rain the dust disappeared. For a short +interval the long-drawn-out pilgrimage was more endurable. The weather +was still warm, and the sunshine was soft and genial. The leaves +were still upon the trees. The vast, unfenced cornfields were bare. +Innumerable flocks of birds fluttered over the stubble, feeding on the +grain which had been too ripe to carry. In the villages the gifts were +more bountiful with the abundance of the harvest. Flowers lingered in +dells and hollows, where the frosty night-breeze passed above them. +The convict band felt this cheering change. There was a less languid +stepping out, and they were better fed. The children began to laugh and +play again; and even the women looked less wretched and exhausted. + +But the autumnal rains grew heavy and persistent, and still the endless +journey continued. The shoes provided for the convicts had fallen to +pieces a week or two after they started; and they had tramped barefoot +through the hot dust. One shirt of coarse linen was given to them once +in six months; these were in rags. Their coats and trousers were also +of grey linen, and were equally tattered. The voluntary exiles were +scarcely better off, though they wore their own clothes. But each was +allowed only a small bag for carrying all the possessions they wished +to take with them into exile. Many of them had sold what they could +spare for food. Under the pitiless rain, drenched to the skin, they +travelled on, the chilly breeze benumbing their ill-fed and emaciated +bodies, and the mud, half-frozen, oozing through their worn-out shoes. + +Nor was there much relief when they gained the shelter of an étape, for +they could not dry their saturated rags, nor had they any change of +clothing. They must sleep as they were on the wooden platform, in their +drenched and dirty garments; the natural warmth of so many closely +packed human beings producing a malarious steam, added to the already +foul air. Shivering with cold, yet seething in a reeking atmosphere, +the miserable creatures could not rest in sleep. + +[Illustration: THE PROCESSION CRAWLED ACROSS THE SNOWCLAD PLAINS.] + +Presently the rain changed to snow; the first snowstorm of the winter +coming swiftly down upon them from the north. They were weather-bound +for a few days, so blinding and baffling were the thickly-falling +flakes. Then hunger set in; such hunger and starvation as had never +yet befallen them, for no provisions were laid up for the exiles, and +the peasants from whom they bought their food could no more go to them +than they could march along the road. The convoy captain allowed them +a scanty share of the soldiers' rations, just sufficient to keep them +alive, but he could do no more for them. Without food or fire, in +clothes that dried upon their bodies, huddled together, they passed the +miserable days and nights. + +At last the snowstorm ceased, and a sharp frost set in. A number of +peasants came with rough sledges, judging rightly that all the women +and children, and some of the convicts, would be unable to walk the +next stage. The winter had come upon them so early and so unexpectedly +that even the guards were not prepared. The convicts were in the rags +of their summer clothing, and barefoot, but at the next forwarding +prison winter garments would be given out. + +But to the half-famished men and women the next few days were bitter, +under the gloomy sky, with an icy wind whistling around them. In dead +silence, except for the jingling of their chains, the procession +crawled slowly and weariedly across the snowclad plains. The prisoners +kept closely together, to avoid being frozen to death, but not a word +did one man say to his fellow. In the telegas, and the sledges also, +the women were speechless, in a half stupor; and only now and then the +children uttered a cry at the death-like apathy of those around them. + +Michael and Sergius kept as near as they could to the telega where +Tatiania was crouching, with little Clava on her lap. But they too were +appalled at this universal stupefaction, and could not speak of it to +one another. + +They reached at last the forwarding prison, where winter stores were +kept. They were to rest there for a few days to recover strength, for +several of the older convicts had broken down on the way. It was a +great relief to them all. Tatiania, who had seemed near unto death, +revived a little. + +"Khariton," she said one night, as she lay beside him on the nari, "you +know that little Clava and I are going to leave you soon?" + +"Yes, dear wife," he answered. + +"And you will not pray to our Lord to keep us back?" she said. + +"No," he replied, with a sharp pain at his heart. + +"It's time for me to give up what Alexis trusted me with," she +whispered in his ear. "I've kept it safe; nobody has suspected. But if +I die on the road, they'll find it, and you'll lose most of it—perhaps +all." + +"But who will take care of it for us?" he asked. "Matron is too old; +who could expect her to live to the end? We have still many weeks to +travel, and all the women are failing." + +"Let the boys take charge of it," she continued, still whispering, +"fifty roubles to Michael, and fifty to Sergius. They are both as wise +and prudent as men. Oh, they've been a great comfort to us, good boys! +There 'll not be too much to divide among you when you reach Irkutsk; +only there you'll soon get work." + +"I will ask Alexis to-morrow," said Khariton. + +"Then my mind will be quite easy," she murmured; "I should have died +to-day, only I prayed the Lord to spare me until I could give up my +trust. Now I shall have nothing to think of but how blessed we shall be +when we are all together again, with the Lord. We were very happy in +Knishi, husband!" + +"We were," he replied with a sob. + +"We might have been happy in Irkutsk," she went on, "but I'm worn-out, +body and mind. I long to get away out of this world. You'll let Clava +and me go?" + +"God's will be done!" he said. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +SLEEP AND DEATH + +TO Michael and Sergius it was a solemn charge to be entrusted with the +funds on which the Stundists were to subsist when they reached their +journey's end. To be sure, the convicts would still have the miserable +pittance allowed by the Government, but this would not suffice for the +women and children who accompanied them. Tatiania found an opportunity +the next day to stitch the rouble notes into the boys' coats. It was +a busy day; the baggage-waggons were unloaded, and winter clothes +got out. But they were damp and mildewed, for the rain and snow had +saturated the bags. The convicts receive their winter equipment from +the Government stores, which were at least dry and warm. They set out +again in renewed spirits. + +It was well for the Stundists that Tatiania's precaution had been +carried into effect. A day or two after they started, and were crossing +the exposed steppe, over which a searching and freezing north wind was +blowing, Sergius and Michael went as usual at the midday halt to carry +food to Tatiania and Clava, who now never left the telega. The child +was sleeping, and Tatiania was very drowsy. + +"Are you well, mother?" asked Sergius. + +"Quite well, dear boy," she answered. "I've no more pain; and I'm not +tired even. But oh, so sleepy! Tuck the cloak over us, my son." + +Sergius carefully folded the sheepskin cloak over her and Clava, and +bent down to kiss the pallid faces. Both were chilly. + +"The captain says we shall reach Irkutsk before Christmas," he said +cheerily, "if we are not delayed by more storms." + +"That's good news," she answered sleepily; "I'm glad for your father's +sake. Be good like him, my Sergius." + +During the short afternoon a light fall of snow and sleet came on. +Every one of the cavalcade was covered with a fine, crisp powder. The +telegas looked like silvered chariots; and the horses drawing them were +beautifully white. Every blade of grass, and the bare stubble of the +cornfields, was delicately frosted over. It was a white procession, +long-drawn-out, passing through a white landscape. Towards the north +the sky was of a livid darkness; and the captain of the convoy ordered +a quick march. + +"How beautiful it is!" exclaimed Michael. + +"But it's terrible!" said Sergius. + +They reached the half-way étape before the telegas came up, and were +ready to lift down Tatiania and little Clava. They had not stirred +since Sergius tucked the sheepskin round them; nor did they move when +he lifted it off, and called "Mother!" + +They were fast asleep, in a profound and peaceful slumber, little Clava +locked in her mother's arms, never more to wake again to this world's +pain and anguish. No trouble like this could befall them, the boys said +to one another the next day, as they followed the telega which carried +the dead bodies to the nearest cemetery; nothing worse could happen. + +Yet in their inmost hearts there lurked a dream of other losses. +Khariton looked fearfully ill to-day; and Alexis did not seem much +better. Each one of the Stundist band was terribly cast down. Their +wives and children were so exhausted and feeble they could hardly +hope, nay, they could hardly wish, they would live to reach Irkutsk. +Every now and then there were delays, made absolutely necessary from +snowstorms, which made it impossible to continue the march for days +together. Then came the alternative misery of semi-starvation. They +never had enough to eat, but in these weather-bound intervals Famine +laid its skeleton hand upon them. Christmas was past before they +reached Irkutsk. + +This was the end of their calamitous journey. Here Paraska's husband, +Demyan, was already established, and probably awaiting their release +under police regulations. In this place they would probably be allowed +to settle down, thousands of miles from their native village. The +Stundists gathered together, in sad and solemn thanksgiving. Of the +nine women who had elected to go with them into Siberian exile, four +were lying in scattered graves along the route, never to be visited by +those who loved them. Of the fourteen children, only five were left; +Michael and Sergius being two of them. + +Even while the survivors sang their usual evening hymn, "Oh, happy band +of pilgrims!" the tears rolled down their rugged and wasted faces, and +their voices faltered. + +"We praise Thee, O Lord!" said Alexis. + +"We praise Thee!" echoed the others. + +"Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord!" said Alexis. + +"They are blessed!" was the response. + +"Blessed are ye when men persecute you for Christ's sake," he continued. + +"We are blessed," they answered. + +Then Alexis opened his Bible, and read these words— + + "'The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs +and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and +gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. + + "'I, even I, am He that comforteth you: who art thou, that thou +shouldest be afraid of a man that shall die, . . . and hast feared +continually every day because of the fury of the oppressor, as if he +were ready to destroy? and where is the fury of the oppressor? + + "'The captive exile hasteneth that he may be loosed, and that he should +not die in the pit, nor that his bread should fail. But I am the Lord +thy God, that divided the sea, whose waves roared. The Lord of hosts is +His name. + + "'And I have put My words in thy mouth, and I have covered thee in the +shadow of Mine hand.'" + +Then Alexis turned the leaves to the New Testament, and read again— + + "'Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through +our Lord Jesus Christ: + + "'By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we +stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. + + "'And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that +tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, +hope; + + "'And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad +in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.'" + +Over the faces of the women there stole an expression of placid +resignation. The men looked at one another with exultation in their +eyes. What were these light afflictions compared with the glory that +would follow? + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE END OF THE JOURNEY + +THEY expected their release every day. The band of exiles who had +marched together for so many months was broken up, and scattered to +various places of exile, excepting those criminals who were sentenced +to the mines. But the Stundists seemed to be overlooked. Demyan was +aware of their arrival, and sent in messages of welcome. He had already +provided a shelter for them, and obtained promises of work in Irkutsk. + +At last one morning they were summoned to the prison-yard, where a +party was being made up for the Kara Mines. Was it possible that they +were doomed to that place of horrors? The men were again chained to +other prisoners, with leg-fetters; the women and children were placed +in telegas; and once more, over ground frozen many feet deep, and with +the thermometer, even at noonday, several degrees below zero, they set +out on their dreary march, uncertain now what their destination might +be. + +They crossed to the eastern side of Lake Baikal, into a wild and +desolate region, at this time lying under a thick cover of snow. But +the second time they reached an étape, a few days after quitting +Irkutsk, their fellow-prisoners started on without them. The captain of +the convoy, which was now returning to Irkutsk, waited some time for +the arrival of a police officer to take charge of the Stundists, but +growing impatient at his delay, and afraid of the short day leaving him +before he could reach a shelter, he called Alexis to him. + +"You are a trustworthy man," he said, "and I must leave you to report +yourselves at the police station. They will tell you under what +conditions you are to live here. It's not a cheerful spot. Have you any +complaint to make to me?" + +"Not any, sir," answered Alexis respectfully. + +"Then God go with you!" he said. + +"And with you!" replied the exiles. + +They watched the convoy until they were hidden in the frosty fog. Then +they turned towards the village, which lay about half a mile away. At +the barrier a wretched old man came out of a hut which looked like a +huge snow-stack, and challenged them. Alexis explained who they were; +whilst Michael and Sergius tried to decipher the inscription on a +rotten post. They made out, "thirty-four houses, sixty-five males." The +women and children did not count in the population. + +But it was a small place. The houses were log-huts, and were scattered +in two long, straggling lines on each side of the road. They too looked +like edifices built wholly of snow. It was evident that extreme poverty +prevailed. Such of the inhabitants as appeared in the street had a +Mongolian cast of features, and seemed uncouth and savage. + +The Stundists marched to the police station, and gave their names, +and the paper entrusted to them by the convoy captain, to the village +Ispravnik. He was certainly a Mongol. He looked at each one of the +men keenly, as if to make sure of knowing them again; and told them +they must report themselves to him once a week, and whenever he chose +to summon them. The women and children stood outside the station, +shivering in the freezing air. + +"Where are we to go, sir?" asked Alexis. + +"Just where you please," answered the police officer; "you're free to +live where you like in this village, but nowhere else." + +"Are there any houses to let?" Alexis inquired. + +"None that I know of," said the man; "you see, brother, it is a very +little place. There are two or three families in every house already." + +"Can we find lodgings?" asked Alexis again. + +"You can go and try, brother," he answered; "you are free, and the +people are free. They may lodge you if they please." + +Then began a weary search for shelter. At some of the huts the +inmates would not even open the door, for fear of letting in a blast +of freezing wind; they shouted to them through the frosted windows +there was no room for them there. There were no young children in +the homeless band, but the five women and the two girls who had +survived the terrible journey were suffering from the intense cold. +Their spirits, too, were depressed at the sight of the savage and +inhospitable spot to which their husbands had been exiled for several +years. Some of them would have wept but for fear of the tears freezing +on their eyelashes. Khariton Kondraty silently thanked God that his +wife and daughters had been mercifully taken from him. + +At length, after traversing the village from end to end, they returned +to the hut where a withered bush frosted over delicately proclaimed the +village inn. They were quickly admitted, and the door closed behind +them. The atmosphere was almost as foul as that of the kameras they had +slept in, but they had grown used to it, and this roof was at least a +shelter. Here they could rest and warm themselves, and get food to eat. + +The innkeeper was a Jew, and more intelligent than anyone they had yet +seen. But he could not tell them of any hut or barn, or shed even, +where they could find a refuge. Nor could he tell them of any place +where more than one could be lodged. The dwellings were all too full +already. No work could possibly be had until the thaw came, and then +strong labourers might earn a few pence a day on the common lands. No +one wanted any women, he said; there were women enough and to spare. + +At last he bethought himself of a half-ruined hut at the extreme end of +the village, which had been empty for some years, ever since a whole +family had been horribly murdered by some runaway convicts from mines. +The innkeeper gave the details of the crime, with zest; and the women +shuddered as they heard them. + +"Folks here say the spirits of the dead people have never left the +spot," he added; "they'll not go till murderers are punished. But you +can have it for small rent if you dare." + +The men went off, as soon as they had finished their meal, to inspect +the place. It was a fair-sized hut, and the log walls and great stove +were in tolerable repair, but the frozen snow showed white through the +clunks in the roof. There were some out-buildings that also needed +restoring. But little could be done before the thaw came. + +There were thirteen of them; the nine men and the four boys who had +outlived their hardships. They were gaunt, haggard, and emaciated; the +women they had left in the inn were almost skeletons. Yet as they stood +under the ragged roof, they lifted up their hands, and in solemn words +dedicated themselves afresh to the service of their Lord. Here they +would make homes; and here, too, should there be a church where they +could worship God according to their conscience. + +They decided, if possible, to find lodgings for the women; and to live +together in this hut till they could put it in repair. The prospect +lying before them was not cheerful, but the present was better than +the past. They would have to endure hunger and cold and poverty of the +greatest, but they would no longer witness the unutterable wretchedness +and wickedness of the kameras. The misery they had passed through was +stamped indelibly on their memories. + +"There's one good thing," said Michael, "we may write what letters we +like. The Ispravnik cannot read." + +"Are you sure of it?" asked Alexis. + +"Yes," answered Michael; "he held the list of your names upside down, +and pretended to check them off, as if he was reading them. I'll begin +a school as soon as the people know us a little." + +"It is against the law," said his father; "and we are a law-abiding +people." + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +DEMYAN'S TIDINGS + +THE weeks of winter crept slowly by. But at last the thaw came, and the +hut the men had occupied was deluged with melting snow. + +By this time the new settlers had become favourably known to the +inhabitants, and there was no difficulty in getting temporary lodgings +whilst they repaired the haunted hut. With the coming of the spring, +fresh hope and energy took possession of them. But their funds, however +carefully husbanded, were melting like the snow. They were very near +parting with their last rouble. + +They were busily at work one day, mending the damaged roof, when a +strange peasant came up, and gazed at them for a minute or two in +silence. + +"Khariton!" he cried at last, "Don't you know me?" + +Khariton sprang down the sloping roof and over the low eaves, and +clasped the stranger in his arms. + +"It's Demyan!" he shouted. + +He was a Knishi man who had been banished during the first persecution +some years ago. They all knew him except Alexis and Michael. Until his +banishment they had worked and worshipped together. It was a great joy +to meet again. + +"How vexed I was to hear you'd been sent on from Irkutsk!" he said. +"There was work for you there, ready. But we soon found out where +they'd sent you; and as soon as we could make a little collection, I +just stole a march, and came out to bring it." + +"But if they find you out!" exclaimed Khariton. + +"Well, somebody must run a risk," he said doggedly; "we could not leave +you to perish in this wilderness. You could not get our collection—it's +only thirty roubles——without somebody venturing. But I want news. Tell +me about Paraska." + +"She is hoarding up every kopek to get enough money to join you," said +Alexis. + +"And she never found our little boys?" he said sorrowfully. "Oh, it was +cruel!" + +"They are quite lost sight of; we could find no trace of them," +answered Alexis. "Even Father Cyril—a good man—could hear nothing of +them." + +"Ah!" he exclaimed. "That's the Batoushka Paraska speaks of. I've a +letter from her, with Knishi news. But I must be quick, it's four days' +journey here, and four back. I reported myself last Monday, and I must +not be later than Wednesday or Thursday in showing up again. Oh, here's +Paraska's letter! I was to tell you,— + + "'Father Cyril has been sent away from Knishi, thanks to Father Paissy. +He was not permitted to take Velia with him—'" + +"Who is Velia?" Demyan inquired. + +"Read on!" cried Alexis. + + "'He was compelled to leave her behind with the widow of Father Vasili; +and folks say she is going to marry again to old Okhrim, the Starosta. +If possible let Michael know at once—'" + +"Who is Michael?" asked Demyan again. + +"He is my son," said Alexis; "and Velia is my little daughter." + +"All the children under ten years of age were taken from us," said +Khariton; "and Velia was adopted by Father Cyril. This is terrible +news!" + +Every man there saw at once the threatening meaning of it. The tender, +delicate child had been put into the hands of a tyrannical and +unscrupulous woman; and possibly into the power of a brutal and cruel +man, who would vent upon her his bigoted hatred of her people. Alexis +fell down on his knees, and groaning, hid his face in his hands. + +"Oh, my God! My God, save her!" he cried in a tone of anguish. + +The letter had been written nearly four months ago. Thousands of miles +stretched between them and the desolate child. Already she must have +endured a winter of misery. What could be done for her? + +"I must go, father!" exclaimed Michael. "If I have to beg my way, I +must go. And oh, I'll save her, father! Velia, little Velia!" And the +boy's voice rose into a passionate cry, as if he would make her hear +him across all the space that divided them. + +The affair had to be settled speedily, for if Michael went, it was best +that he should go as far as Irkutsk with Demyan, before the roads were +broken up by the thaw. + +"Let him come with me," said Demyan; "we've got friends in Irkutsk. +They'll give him letters to other friends on the way. We'll get a few +more roubles together. And as soon as he catches up the railway, he'll +spin along. He'll get to Knishi before next winter; and the summer is +better. Yarina will befriend her, be sure of that." + +"You must go, my boy," said Alexis, "but you must make your way first +of all to Odessa, and get your kinsman there to help you. At any rate +he will help you with money." + +In a few hours Michael had said farewell to his father, and the whole +band of Stundists. In a short time they would be settled in their new +dwellings, and begin to make decent homes of them. "The winter's woe +was past," and new hopes were springing up. But for this bad news +Michael felt that life even in the Trans-Baikal might be full of +gladness. + +Sergius accompanied Michael as far as possible along the route to +Irkutsk. They had much to say to one another, but for the last mile or +so they were speechless. Knowing they could not meet again for years, +if for ever, they embraced each other silently, and in silence each +went on his way. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE SEED OF THE CHURCH + +THE news in Paraska's letter was true. + +A revulsion of feeling had been brought about by the persecution that +had made a clean sweep of the heretics from Knishi. As the crowd which +collected to be spectators of the departure of the women and children +saw their terrible distress, and heard their cries of lamentation +on being driven from their old homes, a wave of pity and sympathy +spread from heart to heart. They had only a vague idea of what exile +to Siberia really meant; no one had ever returned to Knishi from that +distant bourne, but it had always been the most fearsome threat held +over them from infancy. What had these old neighbours, these brothers +and sisters and cousins, done to deserve such a doom? They had always +shown themselves kind and friendly, and ever ready to help in any time +of trouble. And if they were somewhat conceited and crazy about their +new religion, was that so wicked as to merit the loss of home and +property? + +The women especially began to brood over the question. The Stundist +children under ten years of age, who had been distributed among the +Orthodox families, were more intelligent and obedient than the others. +In school they almost formed a class apart, several of them could read +well, and these had, as usual, little Testaments of their own. + +Copies of the New Testament began to appear as if by magic in the +dwellings. The travelling colporteurs, who carried in their packs +Testaments from the great Bible depot in Odessa, found many customers +in Knishi. There was something attractive in listening to the Gospels +read in one continuous narrative, instead of the detached fragments +they heard in the church services. Here was the whole history. It +was quite true what the Stundists said: there was not a word about +confession, or the priest's dues, or the blessing of the houses and the +fields, or the many feasts, when it was unorthodox to labour. The men +liked to hear of this, but the women loved most to hear how the Lord +Jesus treated the women and children. + +There was a general movement of the slumbering intellect and conscience +of the peasants; and Father Cyril was astonished at some of the shrewd +questions put to him on doctrinal points. His own teaching favoured +the movement. The persecution, shortsighted as all persecution is, was +having its usual results. + +Time after time, and by cautious degrees, Velia fetched the Bibles and +hymn-books hidden in the roof of the hut in the forest, and distributed +them among the Stundist children, who were as truly orphans as if their +parents were really dead. Some of them had been so young when they were +taken away that the remembrance of their parents perished in a few +months. But most of them had been present when the carts carried off +their weeping mothers, and nothing could ever efface the memory of that +scene from their hearts. There was still a root of the Stundist heresy +left in Knishi. + +Yarina, the daughter-in-law of Okhrim, had been most touched and +shocked by the banishment of the inoffensive Stundists. She had +married, some years before, Panass, Okhrim's only son, who had proved +an unkind and neglectful husband. But he was dead, and left her with an +only child, a girl. At Father Cyril's urgent request, she had adopted +two of the Stundist children to bring up with her little daughter. +Secretly she was attaching herself to the Stundist faith, but she did +not dare to avow it, for the sake of her child. Besides, Father Cyril's +character, and the sermons he preached, still attracted her to the +Orthodox Church. + +The mental sufferings of Father Cyril during the persecution were +greater and deeper than words could tell. He believed it to be +mischievous as well as unchristian. The utmost limit of persecution +he could find in Christ's teaching, was, "Let him be unto thee +as a heathen man and a publican." This did not open the door to +imprisonment, flogging, deprivation of civil rights, and exile. For how +did Christ deal with the outcast classes? His own dealings with the +publicans were full of forbearance and sympathy. He had visited them +in their houses, and ate with them publicly. He had not driven away +the heathen woman who besought Him to heal her daughter; or refused to +see the Greeks, who came to Philip, saying, "Sir, we would see Jesus." +Nay, when the disciples wished to call down fire from heaven on the +Samaritans who refused to receive them into their town, He rebuked +them, saying, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the +Son of Man hath not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." +The utmost that could have been permitted by the law of Christ, was to +leave the heretics alone. "Let them be as publicans and heathens." + +Father Cyril could not himself think of the Stundists as heathens. He +mourned over their separation from the Church, and believed they were +mistaken in withdrawing from it. But he could not shut his eyes to +their sobriety and integrity, their loyal submission to every law that +did not go against their conscience, their faith and charity; and, +more than all, their surrender of everything that makes life pleasant +to man for the sake of their religious faith. He could not trust +his own people to show equal devotion to their Church under similar +circumstances. + +Father Cyril and his wife did their best to make Velia happy. The girl +was very affectionate, and responded warmly to the love they displayed. +Father Cyril bestowed upon her more caresses and indulgences than he +might have done if she had gone to him under happier circumstances. The +little Stundist orphans left in his charge in the village gave him more +anxious thought and care than all the rest of his flock. He felt more +responsible to God for their welfare. Could he bring them back into the +safe fold of the Church? + +But Velia was not young enough to be made Orthodox. She was nearly ten +years old when she was forcibly taken away from her own home, and she +had been trained in the Stundist faith from her earliest childhood. +The traditions of her mother's ancestors, the Scotch Covenanters, had +been the fairy tales told to her by Michael, long before she could +grasp their meaning. They had played at being persecuted whilst they +were children—it was no new thing to her. But now she understood what +it meant. These real persecutions linked her to the children who +had suffered so long ago in Scotland; the mysterious tie of blood +relationship awoke within her. She too would die rather than forsake +the faith of her father and his people. + +"My Velia," said Father Cyril one day, after the village schoolmistress +had been complaining of her, "could not you, to please me, bow to +the holy icon, and cross yourself when you go to school? The teacher +complains of you and some of the other children. They will all do as +you do, dear child." + +"Oh, I cannot!" she cried, with tears. "If I could, I'd do it to please +you. But I know it's wrong, and God would be displeased. I must obey +God." + +"My child, they are nothing but signs," urged Father Cyril. "Surely +you love the Lord Christ, and couldn't you, to show your love to Him, +use the sign of the cross on which He died for us? And you reverence +the Mother of Christ—cannot you bow to a representation of her? All +these actions are only symbols. I have seen you kiss the keepsakes your +father and Michael gave you. Do these things in remembrance of our Lord +and His Mother." + +Velia stood looking into his face with an air of perplexity and +hesitation. + +"Oh, it does not mean that to them!" she answered, pointing towards the +village. "They really pray to the icon as if it was God; and they cross +themselves out of fear, not for remembrance. They think they will have +bad luck. I cannot do it; no, never! But oh, I wish I could, to please +you!" + +The girl stooped down and kissed his hand fondly. + +Father Cyril sighed, but said no more. He told the schoolmistress +gently not to observe the Stundist children too closely. They would +conform in time, if they were discreetly dealt with. + +But Okhrim, the Starosta, was one of the managers of the school, and +the zeal of the teacher led her to take her complaint to him. + +"How can I teach religion," she asked, "if these little pagans defy +me? I've punished, and punished, but they won't bow to the holy icon, +and it's the Mother of God herself. And all the Batoushka says is, 'Be +gentle.'" + +Okhrim's eyes sparkled, and his hard mouth twitched. The lust of +persecution had taken possession of him, and he must gratify it, even +by persecuting children. + +"So our Batoushka says, 'Be gentle!'" he snarled. "I'll be gentle with +him! He's unorthodox himself—teaching the folks all sorts o' nonsense, +and telling the men it's a sin to drink much vodka. We don't want +doctrine like that here." + +The village inn belonged to Okhrim, and since Father Cyril's influence +had been felt the receipts had fallen off seriously. The church was +filled, but the inn was comparatively empty. Okhrim hated the priest as +fully as he hated the Stundists. At the first favourable opportunity, +he drove over to Kovylsk, and going to the consistory, humbly asked for +an interview with Father Paissy, through whose efforts Stundism had +been rooted out of Knishi. + +Shortly afterwards Father Cyril received a mandate to appear before his +archbishop, who had always shown himself very friendly to him. But it +was not the archbishop who received him, it was his old fellow-student, +Father Paissy, who owed him many a grudge, and who treated him with +scant courtesy. + +"Father Cyril," he said sharply, "we thought we had destroyed, root and +branch, the damnable heresy in your parish. But I am informed it is not +so. I hear you are bringing up a Stundist girl as your own daughter in +the church-house itself." + +"She is a delicate child," answered Father Cyril, "scarcely eleven +years of age; quite unfit for a rough life among the common peasants." + +"Yet you must place her elsewhere," said Father Paissy; "we cannot +permit a parish priest to make his house a refuge for heretics." + +"Let me beg of you to leave her with me for a few years!" exclaimed +Father Cyril. "Who knows whether love and kindness may not bring her +back to the Church? She is a mere child, Father Paissy, most docile and +tractable. In time—yes, in time, she may come back to us." + +"Was her father Alexis Ivanoff, that dangerous agitator?" asked Father +Paissy. + +"Yes," he answered reluctantly, "but he was banished to Siberia in the +early spring; and Michael, his only other child, went with him. She has +not a soul related to her in the village. All the other children have +relatives who can take some care of them. There has not been time yet +for her to forget. But time does wonders. Let the child remain under my +care and my instruction, and by and by she will comprehend the truths +of our holy Orthodox Church. She will learn none of them by living with +a peasant." + +"Oh, I don't care to make the girl a theologian," said Father Paissy, +with a sneer; "it will be sufficient for her to conform because she +must. The people ought to obey the Church, without asking why." + +"Alas! Too many of them do," thought Father Cyril; "and they only come +to church and to confession because they must." + +"I will make a servant of the girl," he said aloud; "and we will forego +the monthly payment made for her. It would be dangerous to place her +into a peasant's family, for she is thoroughly versed in all the +Stundist doctrines." + +"We have considered all that," replied Father Paissy, "and we will +place her where she can do no harm. The archbishop requires you to +deliver up this Stundist girl to the widow of your predecessor, who is +still living at Knishi. She is a pious woman, though not over-learned. +I am acquainted with her, and I have already apprised her of the +archbishop's decision." + +"The old Matoushka!" exclaimed Father Cyril in a tone of dismay. She +bore the character of a virago; and there was not a woman in the +village who would work for her. + +"Yes; the most suitable person to deal with the girl," replied Father +Paissy. "Before you go, take a friendly warning from me. We hear you +secretly favour these ignorant and impious heretics. We hear also +that you interfere too much with secular affairs. There are several +complaints lodged against you; we had none in Father Vasili's time. +Take care, Father Cyril; take care!" + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +A YOKE OF BONDAGE + +THE long white line of the road to Knishi, running straight up to the +distant horizon, lay before Father Cyril, as he drove slowly along it, +lost in thought. He was very unhappy, and his heart felt like lead. +There was not a home in Knishi where he would not rather have placed +Velia than with the old Matoushka. He knew her to be a hard, mean, and +hypocritical woman; very devout, for she never failed to be present at +mass every day. But he felt that she hated him for the many changes he +had made in Father Vasili's slovenly performance of his duties, though +she paid him exaggerated deference as her priest. She came often to +confession— a religious duty more painful to him than to her. How could +he give up the dear child, Velia, to her? + +There was, too, a painful sense that he was held in the iron hand of +tyranny. He had never felt it before, and the touch penetrated to +his very soul. It was a sin against humanity to give the child up to +this woman; his conscience rebelled against it. Was it not also a sin +against God? + +Father Cyril dropped his reins, and let his horse crawl on slowly at +its own pace. Here was the question of questions—the question that +had sent his parishioners into banishment. The tyranny man exercised +over man, piercing to the very thoughts of the heart—was it a thing +to be endured? "No!" said the Stundist. "We stand fast in the liberty +wherewith Christ has made us free." + +But Father Cyril found himself bound fast under a yoke of bondage. It +made him very miserable to feel its weight as he had never done before. +He knew there was no help for him. He must do a thing which his soul +and his conscience abhorred. The child would be taken from him by +force, if he did not give her up. + +It was heartrending to him to tell Velia of the doom that was +pronounced against her. He took her on his knee, and pressed her head +tenderly against his breast, not daring to look upon her face as he +broke the painful news to her. He felt the little heart beating fast +against his encircling arm, and the convulsive clasp of her small hand. +At last she spoke. + +"Father Cyril, is it true?" she asked. + +"Yes, yes!" he said. + +"Oh, if father and Michael only knew!" she cried. "They'd save me." + +"They could not, my darling," he answered, tears stealing down his +cheeks; "the Government is too strong, and the Church is too strong, +for feeble folks like us to resist them. We must submit. I will do all +I can for you, and watch over you; and you shall come here as often as +possible." + +"The old Matoushka will not let it be!" cried Velia in despair. + +Father Vasili's widow lived a little way on the other side of the +church, near to the cemetery, in a log-hut she had had built for +herself when her husband died. She was very well off, thanks to her +own thrift, and her clever faculty for squeezing gifts and dues out of +the parishioners during Father Vasili's life. But she chose to live as +if she was in the deepest penury. She had never kept a servant, but +now she was growing old, she had to pay a woman—when she could get +one—to do her washing and cleaning. To give her her due, her house was +far cleaner than the peasants' huts. For some months she had coveted +the possession of Velia and the three roubles a month paid for her +maintenance. Now she had got her, her chief aim was to make her do as +much work and to cost as small a sum as possible. + +She had a secondary aim—that of making Velia into an Orthodox +Christian. She never missed going to church, and thither Velia was +bound to accompany her. Father Cyril, at the altar, saw the strong old +woman take hold of Velia's reluctant hand, and make the sign of the +cross with it, and force the girl to bend her head before the icon. The +action scandalised him, and Velia's miserable face tormented him. It +was in vain he remonstrated with the old Matoushka; she was only too +glad to be able to wring his heart. + +Father Cyril found himself powerless to soften Velia's lot. The +woman was cruel, but not with such manifest cruelty as to arouse the +indignation of the neighbours, and give him sufficient ground for a +representation to the archbishop, and a petition to get Velia placed +elsewhere. He knew she suffered from a want of nourishing food; and +as the winter passed by he saw that she went shivering about in very +deficient clothing. He felt that he should have to stand by, his hands +tied, and his tongue silenced, whilst the child he loved was dying by +inches. He made an effort to induce the old Matoushka to allow Velia +to come to his home once a week, by promising to provide her with wood +split ready for her stove—a task too heavy for the little girl. + +"She may go if she'll go to confession," said the old Matoushka. + +"That, of course, you could not forbid," replied Father Cyril. + +But Velia could not be prevailed upon to go to confession. Her father +had thought it wrong, she hardly knew why, but that was enough. + +Father Cyril appealed to Yarina; and Yarina, who was the richest woman +in Knishi, invited the old Matoushka to spend a day with her, and bring +Velia to play with her children. The old Matoushka went, but she locked +Velia up in a closet to which there was no window. The girl was her +slave, and no one should interfere between them. The Starosta, Okhrim, +was on her side, and both of them triumphed over Father Cyril. They +held fast a scourge to flog him with. For Velia's sake, he gave up the +useless conflict. + +It was almost a relief to Father Cyril when he, found himself, through +the influence of his wife's relatives, transferred to a larger and more +important parish on the other side of Kovylsk. He could do nothing for +Velia, and her misery was greater than he could bear to witness. No +letter had reached him from Alexis, and he did not know how to find out +his place of exile. Besides, what could Alexis do? The knowledge of his +child's position would only torture him. + +Father Cyril could not even bid the girl farewell, except in the +presence of the old Matoushka, who would not let Velia go out of her +sight. He drew the child to him, looked into her appealing eyes, +kissed her forehead, and tearing himself away took refuge in his +church, where, before the altar, he prayed long and fervently for the +conversion of the misguided Stundists to the Orthodox faith. + +After Father Cyril was gone, Velia's life was a blank despair. +To children there is no hope in the future, for they can foresee +nothing. The daily glimpse of Father Cyril in church, the fond and +pitying glance he never failed to give to the eager, miserable little +face always turned to him; the sight of the young Matoushka and her +children—all these had been something to look forward to, day by day. +They had been what Velia lived by, the scanty food on which her young +heart fed. Now this food was taken away, she grew hungry, with a +desperate hunger, for the sight of a beloved face. There was no face to +be seen in her world save the harsh, forbidding visage of her mistress. + +It was the gossip of the village that the old Matoushka was about to +marry Okhrim, the Starosta. This was not true, though Okhrim went +often to visit the widow. Neither could ever arrive at a satisfactory +knowledge of how much property the other possessed. Their conversation +was always of money, or of the almost as interesting topic—the Stundist +heresy. Both were supremely Orthodox. When Okhrim was there, Velia +hardly dared to breathe. She crept into the darkest corners, and made +herself as small as possible. Nothing amused Okhrim more than to force +the trembling child to make a profound obeisance to the "Mother of +God," a really handsome icon which occupied the place of honour in the +hut. It proved how devout the priest's widow was. + +"She'll make a good Christian yet," he was wont to say, with a sneering +smile which frightened Velia more than his worst oath. + +"She's a stubborn little toad!" responded the mistress viciously. + +By day Velia scarcely knew a moment's rest. The old Matoushka was +a strong old woman, and she had never had a child of her own. She +did not know, and she did not wish to know, the limits of a child's +strength. As long as Velia could move, she must be kept to work. When +she could work no longer it was time for her to go to bed, on a ragged +mattress behind the oven. It was warm, but it swarmed with crickets and +cockroaches. Velia worked till her young limbs ached, and her eyes grew +dim with sleep, before she could resolve to seek rest. But every night +nature compelled her to succumb, and creep exhausted to her dreaded bed. + +So the long dreary months of the winter wore slowly away—those bitter +days and nights when her father and brother were marching across the +icebound wastes of Siberia, often congratulating themselves that Velia +was safe, and cherished as a daughter in Father Cyril's home. The girl +cried after them incessantly in her heart, though her tyrant knew +nothing of it. It is terrible, but children are sometimes too sad for +tears or cries. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +VELIA'S TYRANTS + +A STUNTED, emaciated, broken-spirited child, dumb, and not opening her +mouth, was Velia when the spring came. Yarina's heart ached for her, +but she could show the girl so little kindness! Her house was quite a +mile away, on the farther side of Knishi; and the old Matoushka did +not welcome visitors, unless they brought in their hands gifts worth +having. Yarina was rich, and the old Matoushka was obsequious to her, +but she gave her no chance of seeing Velia alone; and the warm clothes +she brought for the girl lay in a chest till there was a chance of +selling them. + +The summer brought out-of-door work for Velia. It was better for her +than the dark, cold days of winter, when she was always under the lash +of her mistress's tongue. But in every other way her lot was unchanged, +and the toil was even harder. She had never been at school since Father +Cyril left. + +The priest who had succeeded him was one of the old sort—a man after +Okhrim's own heart, except that he was very eager after dues, and +extorted a great deal more money from his parishioners than Father +Cyril received. The new Batoushka could drink like a man, said Okhrim; +and was a sharp hand at making bargains. The drinking shops prospered, +and the congregation in church dwindled. But there were little secret +meetings in the village for reading the Bible, where the seed sown by +Father Cyril, as well as by the Stundists, was springing up. Many of +the people in Knishi knew now the difference between true religion and +the imitation of it. But the chance of a real revival of religion in +the Orthodox Church was gone from Knishi. + +Yarina felt it more deeply than anyone else, and her heart yearned +after her old friends the Stundists. She felt speechless indignation at +the thought of their sufferings. She longed to hear them sing praises +as if God was really listening to them, and praying as to a real Father +ready to give good gifts to His children. There were many besides +herself who remembered them with affection, and almost with remorse. +There was no man now like Alexis, to whom they could go for intelligent +counsel, or the friendly settlement of disputes. There was no woman +like Matrona, or Tatiania, to watch beside the dying, and pray for them +with simple, heartfelt prayers, which the passing soul could join in. + +The last days of harvest were come, and every man and woman, except +Yarina, were busy in the golden harvest-field, when one evening, as +the air grew cooler, she strolled down her garden to the margin of the +river, which formed one of the boundaries of it. She was quite alone, +for the children were gone with the servants to the harvest-field. A +tall, thin, overgrown lad was hiding among the thick forest of reeds, +but crept away as she came into sight. + +"Come out! I see you!" she called, in spite of the fact that she saw +nobody. "I see and hear you. Come out, or I'll send for the Starosta." + +Still there was no sign of any human being. She could hear the joyous +twittering of birds, and the distant lowing of cattle feeding along the +banks of the river, the swish of the current and the rustling of reeds, +but there was no other sound. Yet she was sure someone was near her. + +"Come out," she said gently, "and I'll help you, if you need help. +Perhaps you are hungry, I will bring you food. Even if you are a thief, +I am sorry for you." + +The reeds parted, and a face looked up to her. + +She thought she had seen it before, but was not sure. It was a thin, +pinched face—one that had been burned black under a scorching sun, +and made pallid by cold and hunger. But the deep blue eyes that gazed +beseechingly into her own touched some chord of memory. + +"Who are you?" she asked. + +"Michael Ivanoff," he answered. + +"Oh, heavenly Tsaritza!" she exclaimed. + +The next moment she took the wayworn face between her hands, and kissed +the sunburnt forehead. + +"I'm come back to save Velia," said Michael, with a sob of joy. + +"Thank God!" she cried. "You're none too soon. But oh, we must be +careful! Stay, while I fetch you something to eat." + +She ran hastily to the house, and brought back with her a +knitting-basket and a stool. She could sit knitting on the bank of the +river without anyone suspecting she had a companion hidden among the +reeds. This artifice she had learned when she was a girl. + +So Michael, lying out of sight, ate his food, of which he was sorely in +need, and told the story of the journey to Eastern Siberia. + +Yarina wept bitter tears, and flew into a passion of anger and horror +as she listened. So many of her old friends dead—murdered, she called +it—and the children! Nine of them, did Michael say? Was it true? Oh, +the pity and the shame and the sin of it! + +"Where are you hiding now?" asked Yarina. + +"Every night I go to the haunted hut," he said; "there's no danger of +being found there. But all day long I linger here, on the chance of +seeing Velia alone, but I have not seen her yet." + +"You will never see her alone," said Yarina gloomily. + +"I must!" he exclaimed. "I've money enough, if we can once get out of +Knishi and reach Kovylsk. My mother's cousin in Odessa has given me +money, and got somebody's passport for me. Only Velia will have to +travel as a boy. I've got boy's clothes for her." + +"But how to get her out of that old harridan's clutches!" exclaimed +Yarina. + +They discussed plans as long as they dared, until they heard the voices +of the harvesters coming home in the bright moonlight. One thing only +was settled, that Yarina should conceal enough food for every day among +the reeds. Michael had been living on berries. It was a great thing to +be supplied with food. He could afford to wait longer than he could +have done otherwise. + +But day after day passed by, bringing no chance of seeing Velia alone. +The harvest was gathered in, and concealment among the reeds became +more risky. The men had time to fish in the river; the children were +playing about; and very soon the cutting of the reeds would begin. Then +it would be impossible to hide among them. + +Now, too, came the autumnal washing of clothes, after the harvest +was over and before the winter set in. Troops of women and girls +carried great bundles, hanging upon yokes, down to the little wooden +pier, where the washing was done in the river, amid much laughing and +gossiping. Michael was obliged to keep out of sight round a bend of the +stream two or three hundred yards away. He could hear their voices, +and often catch the words. Yarina stayed by the pier hour after hour, +apparently watching her maid, but in reality hoping for a chance to +speak to Velia, if the old Matoushka sent her down with any washing. + +But the old Matoushka had no intention of exposing her rags to the +criticism and derision of her neighbours. She reflected that she was +the widow of a priest. Waiting till the bulk of the merry party had +gone home with their dripping burdens, she went down to the pier, with +Velia dragging after her, broken-hearted and despairing. The harvest +had brought no joy to her, for she had not been permitted to speak to +one of her old neighbours and friends. + +The poor girl knelt down on the wet planks, and stooped over the water, +washing the old clothing with her wasted hands and arms. The last +peasant had gone, muttering a sulky "Good-night" to the old Matoushka. + +They were quite alone now. Behind Velia was her oppressor—the hard +woman to whom she was a slave, and from whom she could not escape. A +terrible winter lay before her; for in this, the misery of children is +greater than that of beasts—that they can foresee as well as remember. +Life was a confusing mystery and an intolerable burden to her. Why did +not God let her die? Her misery had taken such hold upon her that she +had forgotten even the prayers her mother had taught her. Only the +Lord's Prayer, which she heard daily in the church, remained in her +memory, but even that was now connected in her mind with blows and +curses. + +The night was falling fast, but a lovely light was still lingering +where the sun had gone down, and was reflected with changeful opal +colours on the swift stream. She paused for a moment to look round, and +then, as if some mischievous hand had snatched it from her, the old +petticoat she was washing floated away down the shining river. + +Velia sprang to her feet, and stood paralysed with terror for an +instant or two. She heard the loud breathing of the old woman close +beside her, and felt rather than saw the heavy hand lifted against +her. With an agonised shriek, caring no longer what became of her, she +sprang into the rapid current, which flowed under the end of the pier. +To her dying day, the old Matoushka was not sure that her blow had not +thrown her in. + +Michael heard the cry, and saw a girl floating rapidly down towards +him. In an instant, he plunged into the water, and dragged her out of +the dangerous current into his hiding-place among the reeds. There was +scarcely light enough for him to see the face, and this was not the +sweet, smiling face of his young sister. Yet some hope, mingled with +fear, set his pulses throbbing. Could this girl be Velia? + +He did not know what to do. If he lingered, the life might leave the +half-drowned frame, but if he called for aid, both of them would be +discovered. He laid his hand on her heart to feel if it was beating, +and in the bosom of her ragged dress, he found a Testament. No doubt it +was Velia! No one but a Stundist girl would carry a Testament about her +in secret. God had brought her to him as if by a miracle. + +He would not stir, but he prayed fervently for direction. Was it a +fancy, or did he really feel his mother's hand on him, restraining him? +There was a sense of her soothing presence upon him, as there had been +before in Knishi. No; he must keep silent. The water, heated all day +by the sun, had not been very cold, and he held Velia closely pressed +to him in his arms. As soon as it was quite dark, he saw a lantern +moving hither and thither in Yarina's garden, and her clear voice came +distinctly to his ear. + +"No," she said, "it's not any use searching for it any longer. All of +you go in, and get to bed. I'll stay out a little while." + +But before Yarina came, he felt Velia stirring in his arms, and +breathing with long-drawn sighs. She had not been many minutes in +the water, and had become unconscious rather from fright than from +drowning. Michael laid his hand gently on her mouth. + +"Keep silent! Oh, keep silent!" he said. "I am here—Michael, your big +brother." + +"Are we dead?" she whispered, as she opened her eyes on the thick +tangle of reeds. "Are we dead and buried?" + +"No! Hush!" he answered. "We are in Yarina's garden." + +Yarina herself was cautiously drawing near, swinging her lantern, +and calling the cat in a loud voice. When she was sure everyone had +returned to the house, she came on quickly. + +"Michael!" she called softly. + +He parted the reeds, and came towards her, carrying Velia in his arms. +They listened to the girl's account of how she had flung herself into +the river, but she could not say whether or no her mistress had pushed +her. + +"But she will rouse the neighbours to seek you!" cried Yarina. "They +will come at once to search the river banks. And who knows! Okhrim +squints askance at me, as if he suspected me of being one of you. He +can't bear my adopted little ones. They may search my house, and all +over the place. Michael, you and Velia must get away to the forest at +once." + +The village was already sinking into stillness and darkness, except the +inn, where the window was still lit up. But they avoided the street as +much as possible, and stole along little by-paths familiar to them. It +was not so late that the watch-dogs were in full vigilance, and they +only growled a little in the fold-yards. The sky was full of stars so +bright as to cast their shadows before them as they stepped southwards. +All the pleasant yet weird sounds of night accompanied them; the +shrill sighing of the wind across the stubble of the cornfields; the +drowsy twittering of the birds, roused a little by their passing +footsteps; the melancholy cry of the owls flitting past them in pursuit +of the night-moths; the bats were zig-zagging through the sweet air, +especially over the ponds, and a thin white mist hung all over the +land. Michael and Velia walked on hand in hand, almost speechless, but +immeasurably happy. It seemed to them as if they were wandering in some +utterly strange country, and, exhausted as they were with the perils +and the strong emotions of the last few hours, they only felt a joy +beyond words. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +RESCUED + +THE forest was dark with a blackness that blotted out every object. But +here they were absolutely safe till morning. There was not a man in +Knishi who would dare to enter it. Michael lighted Yarina's lantern, +and guided Velia to the hut. His dreamy joy was changing into a clear, +rejoicing triumph over the success of his perilous undertaking. He had +rescued his sister, and the rapture of a saviour was his. True, there +were perils ahead, but none like those through which they had already +passed. + +He made Velia lie down on his bed of dried leaves, but he slept little +himself, his brain was too busy with exciting thoughts. All the past +events crossed his memory—the happy life for a few years in Knishi, +whilst the spirit of persecution slumbered a little; the goodness of +Father Cyril, and the opposition he made to further persecution; the +secret meetings for worship held in this haunted hut; the long fatal +journey to Siberia; and the condition of the exiles, when he left them, +just before the close of winter. All that was in the past, but it is a +past which will never die out of his memory, and which will come back +to him in every hour of quiet thought. + +Before the first gleam of day, he roused Velia, for they were to meet +Yarina at a corner of the forest past which the road to Kovylsk ran. In +the glimpses they caught of the sky when they reached any opening of +the trees, they saw the stars growing pale. Velia pressed closely to +Michael's side as they drew near to the fearfully-haunted place. It was +a grave in a deep ravine, and a tall, thin column of mist rose from it, +wavering as if half alive. Trembling among the thick trees, which were +still black with night, it had a mysterious and sinister appearance. +Michael threw his arm round Velia, and bade her shut her eyes until +they were well past the accursed spot. + +At last they reached the outskirts of the forest. The sun was not +above the distant horizon yet, but a sweet, soft light was everywhere +diffused, a light without shadows. There was a murmur all about them +of the awakening day. Michael turned towards the east, where dwelt his +father and all his comrades, and watched the growing dawn. The same +sun was already shining upon them, and the same Father in heaven was +watching over them all. + +It was not long before, in the stillness, they heard the shrill, +complaining sound of creaking wheels; and Yarina came up driving alone +in her dilijans. There was no time lost in climbing up beside her, for +they were all anxious to put as great a distance as possible between +themselves and Knishi. Yarina had heard nothing of any search after +Velia. + +Now, in the long, slow progress over the rough road, there was time +enough for telling all the story of their lives since Michael and Velia +were separated. Yarina listened, and often the tears filled her eyes. +Why, these were children who were talking, young creatures who had +never sinned against the laws of man, and not much against the laws of +God. Yet they had suffered more than the worst of criminals ought to +suffer. + +It was true, then, what Father Cyril had once said +incautiously—persecution was the weapon of the devil. Yarina left her +dilijans at an inn, and accompanied Michael and Velia to Markovin's +door, there bidding them good-bye, before ringing his bell. She kissed +Velia again and again, and pressed her lips on Michael's forehead, +sobbing and weeping. + +"Tell them out there, in Siberia," she said, "that I'll not let my +adopted children forget their own fathers and mothers. They shall hear +all about it when they are old enough. I'm almost a Stundist myself, +but I haven't got the spirit of a martyr, God forgive me!" + +Neither had Markovin the spirit of a martyr. Nevertheless, he received +his unwelcome visitors very kindly; taking care, however, to send a +message to the presbyter of the church in Kovylsk that they were with +him, and must be forwarded on their way immediately. + +Michael noticed that the curtain which had formerly hung before the +icon had been taken away, and a twinkling lamp burned in front of it. +It was a significant sign that the spirit of persecution was abroad in +Kovylsk, and that Markovin quailed before it. + +Two days later Michael and Velia reached the railway station from which +the exile party had started on their cruel journey. But they were going +south now, instead of north. The train was almost due, and Michael ran +with his passport in his hand to get their tickets. + +The clerk glanced doubtfully at the passport, and pushed it back. "Not +in legal form," he said curtly. + +Michael's heart sank within him. How it was not legal he did not know, +but any delay was dangerous. + +At that moment Velia uttered a cry of joy, and he saw her rush away and +fling her arms round a priest in a shabby cassock. + +"Father Cyril!" she exclaimed. "Father Cyril!" + +In a moment the priest took in the situation. Here was Velia, disguised +as a boy; and yonder was Michael, turning away from the ticket clerk, +distressed and perplexed. He took the passport from him. + +"It is not visé'd properly," he said. "These two young people," he +added, pleasantly, to the clerk, "have been parishioners of mine till +a few months ago. I can vouch for them. Where are you going to?" he +inquired of Michael. + +"Odessa—to our cousin," gasped Michael. + +"So am I," said Father Cyril. "Three tickets for Odessa, if you please." + +The clerk knew Father Cyril by sight, and had heard him spoken of +highly. Besides, it was impolitic to get into collision with a priest. +He gave the tickets with an obsequious smile. + +As the train went on to Odessa, Father Cyril, like Yarina, had ample +time to hear the whole of the long and dreary story each had to tell. +Velia sat on one side, with his arm about her, and her head resting +on his shoulder, where she slept during the night. Michael was on +the other hand, but the boy was too anxious to sleep. They talked in +quiet and subdued voices; and as Father Cyril listened to them, his +convictions grew deeper that persecution was as much a blunder as a +crime. It had driven Nicolas back to the Orthodox Church, and made a +coward and a hypocrite of him, but those who had gone into exile would +never be won back. + +Father Cyril did not lose sight of Michael and Velia until he had seen +them safe on board a vessel bound for Glasgow. Michael's exultation at +their escape was blended with grief at quitting his own country. + +"I shall come back again when I am a man," he said earnestly, again and +again; "not to your parish, Father Cyril, but to places where they are +never taught anything true about God. I can't let my own people live +and die in darkness, can I? So I must come back." + +"Let it be as God wills," answered Father Cyril; "surely the Church +will awake to her duties." + +He watched whilst the vessel steamed slowly away amid the crowded +shipping, and then turned back into Odessa, sad at heart. These young +heretics were very dear to him. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A LETTER FROM SIBERIA + +WHEN the old Matoushka saw her little victim carried swiftly away by +the current, she stood paralysed, watching till Velia was out of her +sight. Had she thrust the child in? She could not answer the question +to herself. What could she do now? There was not a creature in sight. +The nearest house was Yarina's, but it was on the other side of the +river, and the bridge across was nearly half a mile off. The body would +have sunk, or drifted far away, before she could get any help. + +How she reached her hut, trembling and tottering under her load of wet +clothing, she hardly knew. She sat down and did nothing. It crossed +her mind that she would have to account for Velia's disappearance, but +she had not strength sufficient to drag herself into the village. She +swallowed a small glass of vodka, yet that did not give her courage +enough to face the inquiries and remarks of her neighbours. Well, it +would be of no use now. The girl was drowned. What will be, will be! + +Doggedly she set about getting her supper, but she could not rid her +mind of the vision of the girl drowning. She lit one wick of her lamp, +but the corners of the hut were very dark, and she soon lighted all +three. The silence was alarming; there was no frightened footfall or +pitiful sigh in the hut. The old Matoushka tried to laugh away her +own fancies, but in the stillness she could hear the terrified scream +uttered by Velia when she fell into the river. + +It was a great relief when she heard the familiar footstep of her +friend Okhrim. He entered the illuminated hut, blinking as he came in +from the darkness. + +"Ah!" he said. "Why, Matoushka, are you having a feast?" + +"No, no," she answered; "I'm in great trouble. I've something serious +to tell you." + +"Velia drowned!" he exclaimed, when she had finished her account. "Do +you know what folks are sure to say?" + +She could guess very well what would be said. Okhrim chuckled inwardly, +and said to himself, "Now I have her between my finger and thumb." + +"You're sure you didn't push her in?" he asked. + +"Yes," she replied in a tremulous voice. + +"Do you think they'll believe that?" he asked again. + +She did not answer. + +Okhrim sat silent for some time, lost in thought. Then he looked at her +with triumphant cunning. + +"I advise you to let her disappear," he said. "Clava disappeared from +the church-house in Father Cyril's time, and why shouldn't Velia? Wake +up to-morrow and find her gone. Go at once and tell the Batoushka; and +come to me as Starosta. If the body is found, it will account for the +disappearance. I'll report it to the authorities at Kovylsk." + +"Oh, you're a true friend," she said, sobbing. + +She fetched out her best vodka, and brought some bread and cheese, and +sat by, not able to eat, and marvelling silently at a man's appetite. +After it was satisfied, Okhrim resumed the conversation. + +"And now," he said, "you'll let me have that little sum I want to +borrow." + +"What interest will you give me?" she asked timidly. + +"We'll settle that by and by," he answered, with a sneer. It would not +be necessary now to marry the old widow. He could squeeze what money he +liked out of her. + +Some months after Michael and Velia reached Scotland, they received the +following letter from their father:— + + "BELOVED CHILDREN,—Grace be with you, mercy, and peace from God the +Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth +and love. Let us first praise God for His tender mercies both towards +you and towards us. Our kinsman in Odessa has written me concerning +you. May the blessing of God Almighty rest upon him and Father Cyril! +I long to hear from yourselves that you prosper and are in health, and +that your souls prosper. + + "I charge you, my beloved son, that you use all diligence in your +studies; especially that, as far as possible, you learn something of +healing, that when you return to us, you may be like Luke, the beloved +physician. This knowledge will be useful to you wherever your 'lost' is +cast. Let my well-beloved Velia learn all that a woman should know: how +to nurse the sick, teach and bring up children, make garments, guide +the house, and glorify the Lord in doing little things. These things +do, and you will gladden your father's heart. + + "For ourselves, the loving-kindness of our God towards us is +marvellous. I will write you particulars. He has given us favour in +the eyes of our neighbours; more especially of the police officer and +Starosta, who is a Mongol, and cares nothing about our religion. I do +all his writing and accounts for him; and he deals pleasantly with +us. We have made a decent home—or homes, rather—of the hut and its +barns; and we live in great harmony and peace together. Katerina has +another child to comfort her for the babe she lost on the journey. All +the rest are well both in body and soul. As we are dwelling not far +from the frontier of Mongolia, Khariton Kondraty and his son Sergius +are learning the Mongol language, to the intent that when our term of +banishment is over, they may go forth, even as our Lord sent His first +disciples, to preach the kingdom of God. He said, 'Freely ye have +received, freely give.' It is the bread of life and the water of life +they will give to a hungered and thirsty nation. + + "Rejoice, my children, Paraska has joined her husband, Demyan. She +came to Irkutsk in the service of the Countess Nesteroff, whose son, +Valerian, is in exile in Saghalien. Paraska came herself to tell us, +and to bring news of our dear little ones left behind in Knishi. They +stand fast, poor lambs! in our faith; all but the infants who were too +young to know anything of it. Yet we trust them to Him who took little +children into His arms, blessing them. Paraska further told us that +Paul Rodenko's wife, Halya, has joined him in Saghalien; and that his +letters are full of courage, and thanksgiving to our Father in heaven. +There, as well as here, there are souls eager to listen to the glad +tidings of salvation; and in every place of banishment whither our +people go, the Lord's name is magnified. Is not this better than houses +and lands, and the honour and praise of men? 'I will be a Father unto +you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.' +Remember these words, my beloved ones. Our term of banishment will +end in 1904. What we shall then do, God alone knows. But if it be His +will, I will meet my son at Odessa—a young man then—and we will confer +together how we can serve both our Lord and our country. For Russia is +dear to us all; the people are our people; the Czar is our ruler, whom +God has set over us. We are ready, not only to be in bonds, but to die +for Russia. We dedicate ourselves and our children to the well-being of +our fatherland. God save Russia! + + "May the blessing of God rest upon all your mother's kindred! We +cannot recompense them, but they shall be recompensed by Him who said, +'Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of +cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he +shall in no wise lose his reward.' + + "Now, my beloved, 'unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, +and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with +exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, +dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.'" + + + + THE END + + + +PRINTED BY +MORRISON AND GIBB LIMITED, EDINBURGH. + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76597 *** diff --git a/76597-h/76597-h.htm b/76597-h/76597-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d3c125 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/76597-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5768 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + In the Hollow of His Hand, by Hesba Stretton│ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.poem { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + padding: 20px 0; + text-align: left; + width: 555px; + } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76597 ***</div> + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>HE LAID HIS HAND ON HER HEART.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>IN THE HOLLOW<br> +<br> +OF HIS HAND</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +HESBA STRETTON<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +AUTHOR OF<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +"JESSICA'S FIRST PRAYER," "ALONE IN LONDON,"<br> +"BEDE'S CHARITY," ETC., ETC.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +LONDON<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +4 BOUVERIE STREET AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +PREFACE<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"></figure> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> + THE most extraordinary and inexplicable phase of Christianity is the +persecution of Christians by Christians. Persecution is absolutely +opposed to the nature and teaching of the Lord, who said to His +disciples, when they desired to call down fire from heaven on the +Samaritans who refused them hospitality, "Ye know not what manner of +spirit ye are of. For the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's +lives, but to save them."<br> +<br> + In my former story, "The Highway of Sorrow," I attempted to set forth +the religious principles of the Stundist men, and their steadfast +courage in maintaining them. I have received a letter from Russia +saying that this narrative "is true to fact." "In the Hollow of His +Hand" endeavours to show the bitter sufferings of women and children in +the storm of persecution now raging in Russia. The latest suggestion +made for the complete stamping out of Stundism is that all children +should be taken from their Stundist parents and brought up in the +Orthodox Church. When this was done, in the Middle Ages, to the Jews +in Spain, many parents adopted the awful alternative of slaying their +children.<br> +<br> + In writing both stories I have drawn largely from two sources. One +is a pamphlet, called "The Stundists: the Story of a Great Religious +Revolt," published in 1893 by James Clarke & Co. The other is a most +valuable work, entitled "Siberia and the Exile System," by George +Kennan, from whose volumes I have drawn many of the details of the +protracted journey to Eastern Siberia. Both of these stories are +sorrowful, but they are true. And I would earnestly ask my readers to +ponder over the words of our Lord, "Blessed are ye, when men shall +revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against +you falsely, for My sake. 'Rejoice,' and be 'exceeding glad:' for great +is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which +were before you."<br> +<br> + This blessing the Stundists realise.<br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 19em;">HESBA STRETTON.</span><br> +<br> + 1897.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAP.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. THE SCOTCH COVENANTERS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. THE RUSSIAN STUNDISTS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. AT HOME</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. ESTRANGED FRIENDS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. IN THE FOREST</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. FATHER CYRIL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. A CRUEL BLOW</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. ORTHODOX REASONING</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. MOTHERS AND CHILDREN</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. A HARD WINTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. A FRIENDLY JAILER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_13">XIII. DENYING THE FAITH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_14">XIV. LITTLE CLAVA</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_15">XV. BLESSING THE HERETICS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_16">XVI. IN KOVYLSK.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_17">XVII. FATHER CYRIL'S LETTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_18">XVIII. THE FORWARDING PRISON</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_19">XIX. THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_20">XX. SERGIUS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_21">XXI. MARFA'S FUNERAL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_22">XXII. THE PRISON HOSPITAL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_23">XXIII. MONTH AFTER MONTH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_24">XXIV. THE EXILES' BEGGING SONG</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_25">XXV. SLEEP AND DEATH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_26">XXVI. THE END OF THE JOURNEY</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_27">XXVII. DEMYAN'S TIDINGS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_28">XXVIII. THE SEED OF THE CHURCH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_29">XXIX. A YOKE OF BONDAGE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_30">XXX. VELIA'S TYRANTS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_31">XXXI. RESCUED</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_32">XXXII. A LETTER PROM SIBERIA</a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HAND</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE SCOTCH COVENANTERS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"BEHOLD, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye +therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."</p> + +<p>The boy who was reading in a clear, low voice, though with a foreign +accent, felt the pressure of his mother's feeble hands, and lifted up +his eyes to her white and placid face. He was kneeling beside her bed, +and she pushed back the thick curls of his brown hair, and looked with +a very tender gaze into his frank, boyish face.</p> + +<p>"That's true, my laddie," she said; "true for you, but not for me. +He calls me home, but He sends your father and you forth as sheep in +the midst of wolves. Ah! The Lord Jesus knew; and He knows now. Never +think He's away, and not minding your troubles. You'll go back to your +father, when I'm gone home—not to Knishi, never again to Knishi. Oh, if +I'd only known, I'd have gone home to heaven from there!"</p> + +<p>The feeble, gasping voice ceased for a minute or two. But the mother's +eyes still rested fondly and anxiously on her boy.</p> + +<p>"And, oh, my Michael," she said, "be wise! Don't anger the neighbours +more than you can help. You're only a boy yet, and they'll leave you +alone if you keep quiet. Be 'harmless as doves,' says our Lord."</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't have me a coward, mother," answered the boy somewhat +hotly.</p> + +<p>"Me, Michael? Me?" she cried, a faint colour flushing her pallid +face. "No, no! Weren't my ain forebears among the Covenanters? Both +on father's and mother's sides! Didn't they suffer the loss o' all +things—eh! and die for conscience' sake? Nay, Michael, I'd send you +to death, if need be, for the truth. But it's hard to think of young +little ones having to suffer cruelly because their parents must act +according to their conscience. Oh, my Michael! And my little Velia!"</p> + +<p>She sank back on her pillows with closed eyelids, through which the +tears were slowing oozing. Michael did not go on with his reading. They +were both thinking of the last twelve months, when Catherine Ivanoff +had left her Russian home to try if her native air in Scotland would +restore her health. Michael had accompanied her, being old enough to +be a help and comfort to her during the long voyage from Odessa to +Glasgow, and through her sojourn among her own kinsfolk. It had been on +the whole a happy year, filled at first with delusive hopes. But all +hope was gone now. She would never be able to bear the voyage and the +inland journey homewards.</p> + +<p>Her brother's house, where she lay dying, was a small Scotch farm, not +unlike the homestead she had left in Russia. She lay still, thinking +longingly of it now. The thick walls of dried mud, with their deep +window-sills; the large house-place, with its oak table, and oak +benches standing along the walls, which she had kept beautifully +polished; the huge stove, which seemed to fill half the room; and the +great barns and stables built round the fold-yard. Oh, if she had only +been there now!—dying in the little bedroom which opened out of the +roomy house-place, where she could watch her husband going to and fro, +and have her little Velia in her sight. Her house in Knishi had been +the best in the village, almost equal to the church-house; and she had +cherished a secret pride in it. The garden on the eastern side was even +better than the priest's garden, for her husband as well as herself +took great pleasure in it. It was already near the end of February; and +the snow would be melting, and the buds swelling on the fruit-trees, +and the earliest flowers pushing their first shoots through the moist +earth. Oh, how happy she and her husband had been in Knishi!</p> + +<p>It was eight years since they had gone there, with their two young +children, to rent a farm belonging to her husband's cousin, Paul +Rodenko, who had been exiled to Siberia for holding fast to his +Stundist faith. A sharp outbreak of persecution had taken place, +during which three of the leading Stundists had been imprisoned—one +of them dying in prison. And the mother of Paul Rodenko had fallen a +martyr to the uncurbed violence of a mob. There had been some official +inquiries into the cause of her death. And though no one was punished, +the peasants, after their wild excess of savagery, were ashamed of the +crime.</p> + +<p>Since then the Stundists had been unmolested, left very much to +themselves, and practically cut off from all village intercourse. +Alexis Ivanoff was their presbyter; and though they had no stated +hour or place of worship, it was well-known they maintained their own +religious views.</p> + +<p>Alexis Ivanoff's letters to his wife told her that this tranquil state +of affairs showed signs of coming to an end. Although there was a good +and kind-hearted priest, Father Cyril, appointed in the place of the +old Batoushka, who had fomented the persecution eight years ago, there +were symptoms of hard times coming for the Stundists. The Starosta, who +was the chief layman in the village, was a fierce bigot and a churlish +miser; and it lay in his power to injure those whom he disliked. +Already Alexis had been compelled to pay sundry fines for himself and +his poorer fellow Stundists; and the exactions were increasing. It was +no use appealing to any court of law against these unjust and vexatious +taxes; were they not Stundists? But he hoped the oppression would be +confined to monetary forfeits.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "I would send Velia to you out of the way," he wrote, "if I thought +Okhrim would do more than tax us unjustly. But he is fond of money, and +will be content to fleece us; when the sheep are slain, there is no +more to be gained. Velia is the treasure I value most—my only earthly +joy, now you and Michael are away. Yet, if the Lord required it, you +and I would give up our children, precious as they are. My Catherine, +this life is only a journey, and a short one at the longest. What +matters it if we come to the end soon, or travel on a little longer? If +we walk in smooth paths or rough ones? Let us work while it is called +to-day; 'the night cometh when no man can work.' And at nightfall we go +home and rest with our beloved ones."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>This was his last letter. It lay under her pillow.</p> + +<p>Michael had risen from his knees beside his mother, and gone to the +little lattice window, through which he could see the distant mountains +still capped with snow. Below the house lay a pleasant valley, which +had been the resort of the Covenanters in times long gone by, when they +must needs worship God in secret. In the room below, on one side of +the wide, old open hearth, there was a little closet four feet square, +cunningly contrived behind the wainscot, where many a time godly men +had hidden whilst their persecutors searched the homely farmstead for +them, or sat round the fire cursing their fruitless efforts. The whole +place and neighbourhood were full of legends of the Covenanters, and +Michael had heard of them, and listened to them with avidity, for the +last twelve months.</p> + +<p>He was longing to be home again with his father and Velia, especially +now when there was a threatening of renewed oppression. He loved +his fatherland, Russia, with a boy's hot patriotism. He had fretted +inwardly at his long exile, though he fancied he had concealed his +home-sickness successfully from his mother. It would soon be over +now, and the tears fell fast down his cheeks. For it was only when +his beloved mother passed through the gates of death, already opening +slowly before her, that he could be free to hasten away home.</p> + +<p>"Michael!" cried his mother in a strong and happy voice.</p> + +<p>He sprang towards her.</p> + +<p>She had half-raised herself in bed, and her face was full of radiant +gladness, such as he had never seen before.</p> + +<p>"I'm dying! And it's beautiful!" she said. "Tell your father death is +beautiful! And I'm not alone—no, not alone!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE RUSSIAN STUNDISTS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THREE weeks later Michael set out on his return home in a vessel +sailing from Glasgow to Odessa. Sandy Gordon, his uncle, accompanied +him to Glasgow, loath to part with the boy who had become very dear to +his Scotch kindred. They urged him to stay with them, but he could not +bear the thought of it. His home-sickness had greatly increased since +his mother's death, and he had an intense longing to be once more in +his own country, to cross the limitless steppes, and taste again the +spring breezes full of the scent of flowers. He pined for the familiar +sound of his own language, and the songs in which his people delighted. +And underneath this natural love of his own country lay a boy's desire +to share with his father and sister any perils which might be hanging +over them.</p> + +<p>"No, Uncle Sandy," he said, with his arms round Sandy Gordon's neck, +and his brown head resting on his uncle's grizzled hair, "no! I'm a +Russian, and I ought to live in my own country, and help my own people."</p> + +<p>"And if they send your father to Siberia, my laddie," said Sandy +Gordon, "as they did his cousin Paul Rodenko, what will you and Velia +do then?"</p> + +<p>"We'll do what father says," answered Michael; "if he goes, I shall +want to go too. But there is little Velia! Father must settle for us. +She's a tender little thing is Velia."</p> + +<p>"My lad," said Sandy earnestly, "remember there's always a home for +you and Velia here with us. For Catherine's sake—and your own sake, +Michael—you'll be welcome. And there's one of your own kin in Odessa, +a well-to-do man, dealing in corn, John Gordon by name. In any trouble +think of him, my boy; and he'll help you, for he has the means and the +will."</p> + +<p>Sandy Gordon gave Michael a letter addressed to his kinsman in Odessa, +to be delivered between leaving the port and reaching the railway +station of the line which was to carry him to about fifty miles from +Knishi, the village where his home had been since his early childhood, +and where his father was to meet him. It seemed to him an almost +intolerable interruption to stay some hours in Odessa, but the elderly +merchant was pleased with the boy, and with the news he brought from +Scotland. He promised to be ready with any help he could give, if the +troubles anticipated by Alexis Ivanoff should break out.</p> + +<p>The short spring-tide of Russia was in its fullest beauty when Michael +reached the railway station, where his father was to meet him with a +telega, and the old mare whom he had so often fed. The past winter +with its bitter winds was already forgotten, and the scorching heat +of summer lurked still in the future. The boy's heart was torn with +conflicting emotions. His mother's death still filled it with profound +grief, but the joy of coming home again to his father and Velia was as +strong as his sorrow. He had felt no fatigue from his long and tedious +journey, and though his heart leaped at the sound of the Russian tongue +spoken by all about him, he had sat almost speechless, and absorbed in +memories, during the many hours since he had left Odessa.</p> + +<p>His father was standing by the telega, outside the barrier, a tall, +strong, middle-aged man, with a grave and handsome face, and a +dignified carriage, very unlike the uncouth and rough aspect of most +Russian farmers. He had the look of a leader among men. Michael +recognised it for the first time, and he felt a new sensation of pride +in him. When he left home a year before, he did not understand all +his father was as a man. But in Scotland, having his mind filled with +stories of the unconquerable courage of the Covenanters, who defied the +power of king and soldiers when they sought to interfere with freedom +of conscience, he discovered that his father was such a man as they had +been. Now he saw it with his eyes.</p> + +<p>He threw himself into his father's arms, and felt his kisses mingled +with hot tears falling from his father's eyes. The thought of the lost +wife and mother, who had been buried so far away from them, was in both +of their minds. Silently they got into the telega, and drove away from +the noisy crowd gathered about the station.</p> + +<p>Everything about him seemed so new, yet so familiar to Michael, that +he felt that it must be a dream, one of those many dreams of Russia +that had haunted his sleep whilst he had been in Scotland. His father +sitting silent beside him, the noisy creaking of the cart-wheels, which +might be heard half a mile off, the jolting over the rough road, the +slow jog-trot of the old mare—were these real? Or would he awake by and +by, and find himself gazing out down the gentle valley under his window +at his uncle's farmhouse?</p> + +<p>Presently there was nothing to be seen around them but leagues upon +leagues of apparently level land, with an unbroken horizon lying low, +like the sky-line at sea. Wherever the ground could be cultivated, a +brilliant yet delicate green carpeted the rich brown soil, showing the +young corn, which would soon be waving under the summer sun. In the +untilled portions of the plain, innumerable flowers were in blossom, +and butterflies and bees fluttered in clouds above them. The cry of +the curlew that loves lonely places followed them mile after mile. Not +a barn or a dwelling was visible in all the vast expanse. The father +and son drove on in almost unbroken silence, only speaking a word or +two now and then. There was so much to say that they knew not where to +begin. At length a soft, gentle breeze just touched Michael's cheek, +which seemed to him as if his mother had kissed it.</p> + +<p>"Father," he said, looking up into the sad yet serene face beside him, +"my mother told me to tell you death is beautiful! And her face said it +too; it was full of gladness. Yes, until we laid her in the coffin."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" said Alexis Ivanoff, lifting up his eyes to the cloudless +sky above them. "I praise Thee, O Lord, that Thou halt taken her away +from the troubles to come. She was too tender to bear them. We men, +Michael, can bear hardness as soldiers of our Lord Christ, but when we +think of our women and children—it is that which breaks our hearts."</p> + +<p>The boy's whole frame thrilled with delight as his father uttered the +words, "We men." Then he was no longer to be considered a child; this +was a summons to enter the ranks of manhood. He was ready to obey the +call, and eager to endure hardships. Yet, as if he were already a man, +the moment of delight was quickly followed by a sharp sense of dread +piercing him, as he recollected Velia, his little sister, who must +share whatever sorrows and perils befell them. How was it he had never +experienced this vague terror before? Was it because he was almost a +man?</p> + +<p>"But could not God save us?" he asked after a while.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by being saved?" inquired his father.</p> + +<p>Michael did not answer immediately. He meant that God should give +them the freedom of conscience, and liberty to worship as they +believed best, for which the Scotch Covenanters had fought so long +and so stubbornly. But he knew the tenets of the Stundists forbade +all resistance by force, and taught simple submission to authority in +everything, except coercion in religious matters. Moreover, he had seen +too much of life in Scotland to be able to convince himself that the +Scotch, as a people, were saved. Had he not seen drunkenness there as +bad as in Russia? Were there not lying and dishonesty and quarrelling, +and all the long list of sins which he ran through in his mind?</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell what I mean," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Christ came to save us from our sins," answered his father, "not from +sorrow. 'In the world ye shall have tribulation,' He said; and the +history of His people has been the same through all generations, and +in all countries. The Church has always been built on the graves of +the martyrs. As we beat out the grain from the straw with our flails, +stroke after stroke, so will the world smite us. But God will gather +His corn into His granary; not one grain lost, only the chaff left. The +flail is the world, my son, but God's hand holds it."</p> + +<p>"Are they beginning the persecution, father?" asked Michael.</p> + +<p>"It has never ceased," answered Alexis, "but now it is growing hotter. +Okhrim has been made Starosta in Savely's room, and there is not a +harder or more cruel man in all Knishi. Father Cyril can do little to +control him. He is a saint and a Christian, our Batoushka, but Okhrim +is his enemy. Khariton Kondraty was taken to Kovylsk, and thrown into +prison there last week. I expect to be the next. But he leaves me +alone, because I pay every fine he imposes; and the farm is not mine, I +only pay rent for it. It belongs to Paul Rodenko, who was exiled years +ago. Old Karpo will take care it is not confiscated, because it will go +to his daughter, Paul's wife, if he dies first. Still, the hour must +come for me at last."</p> + +<p>Silence fell upon them again. Michael had a vivid idea of what +persecution meant in Knishi. Instead of the fairy tales and ballads +which other children heard from their elders, he had listened all +through his childhood to stories of martyrs—martyrs in Scotland, and +martyrs in his own country. Even the dear home in which they dwelt had +been the scene of martyrdom; and the bench on which they sat beside the +stove had been the deathbed of Paul Rodenko's mother. But hitherto he +had thought of persecution as a thing of the past, or far-off in other +villages; now it stood face to face with him.</p> + +<p>Yet life was very pleasant for the time being. He drew in deep breaths +of the sweet, fresh air of the spring, and looked up into the clear +blue of the sky, and gazed across the vast, sea-like plain. His +heart beat high with the mere joy of living. Courage and hope and an +unquestioning faith in his father filled his mind. Whatever troubles +might be coming, surely he could bear them as his forefathers among the +heathery mountains of Scotland had borne theirs. When he came to think +of it, only a small number of the Covenanters had actually perished; +most of them won through, and secured freedom for themselves, and their +children after them. It would be the same with the Stundists in Holy +Russia.</p> + +<p>They were five days travelling homewards; for Alexis seized this +opportunity for visiting the scattered bands of Stundists, already +becoming terrified and disorganised by the increasing severity of +the persecution. Alexis was not only the deacon of the little church +at Knishi; he was also the presbyter of a wide district containing a +number of churches. He was in constant communication with the Stundist +exiles and prisoners, and managed the funds by which they were helped +and the most distressed members of the sect were maintained. He had +therefore much business to transact, and much comfort and information +to give. Compared with most of the other presbyters and deacons, he was +both a rich and educated man; for he had travelled in other lands, and +his wife had possessed a small income, safely invested in Scotland.</p> + +<p>In every village they met with terror and sorrow. Spies abounded, and +it had become impossible to hold regular meetings. Alexis dared not +address the assembled congregations, as he had been wont to do. In two +or three places tales so terrible were told him that he would not let +Michael hear them. But everywhere he preached non-resistance, not only +from policy, but from obedience to the direction of our Lord—"But I +say unto you, that ye resist not evil." If they could not conquer by +obeying the commands of Jesus Christ, they must perish.</p> + +<p>In some villages, he found that the more timid among the Stundists were +going back to the Orthodox Church, and these were more to be dreaded +than the spies. But in all the little bands, there were some who were +ready to go into exile, or even, if need be, to die for conscience' +sake. These were all poor working men and women, like the carpenters +and fishermen who were our Lord's earliest disciples. Alexis saw them +in secret, and encouraged them. To suffer for Christ was to reign with +Him. There were light afflictions but for a moment on one hand; a more +exceeding and eternal weight of glory on the other!</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>AT HOME</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE last night was spent at Kovylsk. This place was the chief town of +the province. Here the governor lived. Here also was the dwelling of +the archbishop. The law courts, the consistory, and the jail were here. +Civil law and ecclesiastical law held their high courts in Kovylsk. +Alexis was very busy, but also very cautious in this town of the +governor and archbishop.</p> + +<p>They took up their quarters in the abode of Markovin, a secret +disciple, more timid than Nicodemus, but a very useful friend to the +Stundists. He was in abject terror all the time a Stundist was under +his roof, but he never refused to shelter them. Alexis and Michael left +their telega and horse at a little inn quite at the other side of the +town, and did not go near him till dusk.</p> + +<p>Markovin had means of succouring the men in prison, of receiving news +from them, and of smuggling in letters to them. One of the warders +who was favourably inclined towards Stundism came occasionally to his +house, bringing information about them. He had been several years +in the prison wards, and was trusted greatly by the authorities, +as he seemed always a stupid but well-principled man. His name was +Pafnutitch, and he had formerly been a soldier. He happened to look in +whilst Alexis and Michael were in Markovin's room.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" he said, after giving them all the news he could. "There's +poor Kondraty would give his ears to have a sight of one of you. I +daren't take you, Alexis, but if Michael didn't mind running a little +bit of a risk, just put his head for a moment in the jaws of the lion, +I'd pass him in—ay! and out again, unless we were very unlucky. Let +him bring a bag o' tools with him, and I'll say he's my sister's son +learning to be a carpenter. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"I'm ready!" cried Michael, springing eagerly to his feet.</p> + +<p>"No! No! No!" exclaimed Markovin, in terrified accents. "Not from my +house. Not from here!"</p> + +<p>"Not now," said Alexis quietly. "It would be useless. We have no +important news yet to send to Kondraty. But another time, Pafnutitch, I +may send Michael to you."</p> + +<p>It was the first call upon his courage and sympathy, and Michael +rejoiced to feel that he had not for a moment hesitated to answer it; +no cowardice or indifference had made him fail.</p> + +<p>It was evening when Alexis and Michael drove slowly, with their tired +horse, along the grass-grown village street of Knishi. Each cottage, +built of wood or mud, stood at the back of fold-yards large or small, +according to the number of sheep or cattle possessed by the owner. Only +on the eastern side of the dwellings were any doors or windows to be +seen, for the Oukrainian houses are built always to face the east. But +though on one side of the road, the inmates looked out through their +doors and windows to see who was passing, as they heard the creaking +of the telega wheels, not one gave them a smile or a word of welcome. +On the other side, some of the people, curious to know who was coming, +peeped round the corner of the huts, but they, too, only stared and +frowned.</p> + +<p>Michael felt a lump in his throat, and tears burning under his eyelids. +It was not in this way he had dreamed of coming home. He had been +absent only a year, and he knew all their names, and recollected +their faces. Some of the women had kissed him when he went away; +and the children had followed them as far as the barrier, calling +farewell after them as long as they were in sight. But now the boys, +his playfellows, slouched away, as if they were ashamed or afraid to +recognise him, or stood and stared at him with unconcealed animosity in +their manner. This was not what he had looked forward to.</p> + +<p>In his trunk lying at the bottom of the telega were a number of little +keepsakes, which he had bought with great pleasure in Scotland. He +had often thought of how he should go round the village, from house +to house, giving them away, and telling strange tales of his voyage +and his sojourn in a foreign country. He had all the strong desire of +a traveller to narrate his adventures. He had not even forgotten his +enemies, Father Vasili, the Batoushka, and his wife, but now Father +Vasili was dead, and only the Matoushka was left. Was it possible that +nobody would accept his keepsakes?</p> + +<p>Presently they were past Knishi, and on the road to Ostron, half a +mile farther on, where their home was. Michael could no longer bear +the wearied jog-trot of the old mare. He sprang from the telega with a +shout, and ran eagerly towards the farmstead. Yes! There it was! The +very home which had haunted his dreams, by night and day, during all +his long absence.</p> + +<p>The front was in shadow, for it was evening, but the setting sun shone +slantwise on the barns and stables, and made golden tracks down each +side of the fold-yard. The buds on the lilac trees at the corner of the +house stood out against the low light. In the doorway stood Paraska, +her usually sad face kindled into a look of glad welcome; and on the +turf seat by her, outside the door, was Velia, her long pretty hair +pushed back from her eyes and forehead. With a loud cry of delight, she +flew across the yard and threw herself into his open arms.</p> + +<p>"Never go away again, brother!" she cried. "Never leave little Velia +again!"</p> + +<p>For a few moments Michael was silent, gazing with dreamy eyes at the +open doorway. For it seemed to him that just within the shadow, behind +Paraska, he saw dimly a vague form, like his mother, with such a smile +upon her face as had lingered there to the last, when they closed her +coffin. Was it possible she was there to take a share in the joy of +the home-coming? He clasped Velia more closely to him, and kissed her +tenderly. When he lifted up his head again, the vision had vanished.</p> + +<p>Paraska, too, was gone. She threw her apron over her head, and ran +away to the little room that had been made for her in a corner of the +granary. She was the wife of Demyan, a Stundist, who had been sentenced +to exile at the same time as Paul Rodenko, to whom the farm at Ostron +belonged. He was now living at Irkutsk, in Eastern Siberia, thousands +of miles away. When he went away, she had chosen to stay behind with +her two babies, who were too young to bear the privations and perils +of the long journey, made chiefly on foot. But when her children were +four and five years of age, they had been taken from her by the Church +authorities, to be brought up in the Orthodox faith, and she had never +been able to find out where they were. Catherine Ivanoff had taken the +broken-hearted mother, penniless and friendless, and almost maddened, +into their house, and treated her as an old and cherished friend. But +the forlorn woman was a prey to grief, and went through her daily life +almost speechlessly.</p> + +<p>"Let us run after Paraska and speak to her," said Velia.</p> + +<p>Up the rude ladder and across the granary floor they ran to Paraska's +little room, but so piteous were the sobs and cries they heard beyond +the closed door, that they crept quietly away again.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of all, that evening was a very happy one. Alexis sat +by the great stove, for it was still cool at night, with Velia on his +knee, and his right arm round his son. Michael had much to tell them, +and they had a thousand questions to ask. They did not avoid talking of +the mother, whom they spoke of not as one dead and lost to them, but +only as having reached the end of a journey, and entered the heavenly +home before them.</p> + +<p>To Michael and Velia, if not to Alexis himself, heaven was as real as +if it had been another land on the face of this earth. They seemed to +know as much about it as they did of Siberia, or the Transcaucasus, +whither so many of the Stundists had been banished, and where they +might go themselves some day. Only there was this difference: they had +no doubt of going to heaven, and they were not sure of going to Siberia.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>ESTRANGED FRIENDS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MICHAEL was resolved not to let the coldness of his old friends and +comrades separate him from them. True, they looked upon him as a +heretic, but he had been that before he went to Scotland—that was no +new thing. Of course, there was his chief friend, Kondraty's son, +Sergio, a heretic like himself, whose friendship was as close and dear +as ever. But Michael had been on good terms with all the village boys, +and he knew they would listen with delight to the story of his travels, +nee, would go into a rapture of joy over the treasures he had brought +home. There were at least a dozen pocket knives, which his Uncle Sandy +had bought to be given away among the lads of Knishi. He was eager to +renew the good understanding and comradeship which had been broken off +a year ago.</p> + +<p>Then there were the packets of needles for the women, and the dolls +for the little girls. Such needles and dolls had never been seen in +Knishi; surely they would open every door and every heart to him. There +was Marina's little girl, Velia's chief playfellow. He had brought an +English doll for her precisely like Velia's. Yarina had been great +friends with his mother, and he had a memento to give to her, sent by +Catherine herself.</p> + +<p>The first morning after his home-coming, he filled his pockets with his +presents, and giving one doll to Velia, bade her take the other one in +her arms. He started off joyously to Knishi, but as he was turning down +the road leading to Yarina's farm, Velia drew him back.</p> + +<p>"We must not go there," she said, with a sob.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Michael.</p> + +<p>"Okhrim is Starosta now," she answered, "and he says I mustn't play +with Sofia any more. He is her grandfather, you know. Unless I cross +myself, and bow to the icons," she added, looking up to him with eyes +full of tears.</p> + +<p>"You must not do that," said Michael, his bright boyish face clouding +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" replied the little girl. "But oh, I miss Sofia so!"</p> + +<p>The tears were rolling down her cheeks, but a moment afterwards Velia +looked up again with a smile.</p> + +<p>"But I shan't mind now," she continued, clasping Michael's hand with +all her might; "I have my own big brother now."</p> + +<p>"Does nobody play with you, my Velia?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Only the other Stundist children," she said; "and they don't let us go +to school now. Father Cyril would let us go, but Father Vasili got an +order, just before he died, to say the Stundist children must not go to +Orthodox schools if they did not go to church. Father Cyril cannot get +it altered."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see Sergius," cried Michael, "and you must give Sofia's +doll to little Clava."</p> + +<p>"Little Clava will love it," said Velia, "but oh, I am so sorry for +Sofia. We must never let her know it was brought all the way from +Scotland for her, and given away to another girl."</p> + +<p>The house belonging to Khariton Kondraty, the father of Michael's chief +friend, Sergius, was much smaller and poorer than the farmhouse where +Alexis lived. It lay a little way apart from the village, and near to +the steppe, a part of it so thickly carpeted with flowers that not a +blade of grass or an inch of soil could be seen. Long rows of beehives +lay under a hedge, which sheltered them from the north wind. Khariton +Kondraty had taken up the business of Loukyan, an old deacon who had +died from ill-usage in prison at the last outbreak of persecution in +Knishi. He maintained himself and his family chiefly by the sale of +honey and wax, and since he had been imprisoned in Kovylsk, his son +Sergius, a boy about the same age as Michael, and his daughter Marfa, +a girl of twelve, had proved themselves quite capable of managing the +bees, and tilling the small plot of ground belonging to their father.</p> + +<p>The whole family welcomed Michael with delighted cries of welcome. +Marfa alone could not his speak, but her eyes filled with tears. +Sergius clasped his friend in his arms; and little Clava jumped about +for joy, with her English doll in her arms. Tatiania, Kondraty's wife, +kissed him as fondly as if he had been her own son. No welcome could +have been warmer, and Michael's spirits rose again.</p> + +<p>"Let us go and look at the hives, Serge," he said.</p> + +<p>He wanted to get Sergius alone, to inquire about the school and the +exclusion of the Stundist children from all the pursuits and games of +the Orthodox children. It was too true. The Orthodox parents forbade +their children to have any intercourse with the heretics. They were in +fact excommunicated. This had caused bitter, though perhaps short-lived +grief in many households in the village; for the friendships of +children are often very close and tender. Yarina's little girl, Sofia, +had been made quite ill by her separation from Velia and little Clava. +But the Stundist children were getting no teaching except what their +parents could give in their very few leisure moments.</p> + +<p>"Then I will keep school myself for our own children," said Michael.</p> + +<p>He soon found out that the boys of the village were more than willing +to listen to his traveller's tales, and accept his presents, if they +could do so in secret. But this Alexis would not allow. Michael himself +saw the risk and the folly of any clandestine intercourse; for Okhrim, +the Starosta, was on the lookout keenly for some pretext for fresh +fines and oppressions.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>IN THE FOREST</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MICHAEL began his school, protected and encouraged by Father Cyril, +the Batoushka, though the Starosta did his best to put a stop to it. +Father Cyril had been appointed to the Orthodox Church in Knishi, on +the death of Father Vasili, with the idea that his holiness of life +and sweetness of nature would bring back the straying Stundists to the +Orthodox faith. He was loyally attached to the Greek Church, and never +having been in close contact with the Stundists before, he had come to +this parish with high hopes of soon rooting out the pestilent heresy by +conciliatory measures and telling arguments. He found the unlettered +peasants very open to conciliation, but their arguments, taken simply +and solely from the New Testament, he could not often combat, and could +never overthrow. In the meanwhile he had conceived a great respect and +a real friendship for Alexis Ivanoff.</p> + +<p>Alexis had had more than a village education. He had lived some +years in Moscow, and availed himself eagerly of every opportunity +for acquiring knowledge. His wife, Catherine, had been no ordinary +woman; she had always been a true helpmate and companion to him. He +had learned English from her, and possessed many English books. He +had translated the best English hymns into Russian verse, which were +printed and widely circulated.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril was greatly interested in this heretical household—the +well-read, intelligent farmer, the manly yet boyish son, and his +pretty, sweet-tempered little girl. The sad, broken-hearted Paraska, +mourning for her children, also aroused his deepest sympathy. The +farmstead was a model to the village. Whenever Father Cyril passed +it, and saw the clean fold-yard, the comfortable house, with its +shining windows, and the flowers blossoming round it, he sighed to +think he could not point it out as a pattern to his idle and drunken +parishioners without giving great offence to the Orthodox people. He +could not even go as often as he would like to visit Alexis Ivanoff.</p> + +<p>Michael's school for the Stundist children prospered; he proved to +be a very good teacher. There was no doubt he was doing better than +the village schoolmistress, who took no real interest in her work. +The Stundist children, who were obliged to pass through Knishi to +reach Ostron were often assailed with threats and bad language and +occasionally with missiles from the Orthodox children. For the spirit +of persecution is easily aroused, but very difficult to suppress.</p> + +<p>The summer was nearly over, and the harvest was gathered in, an +abundant harvest, which filled every barn to overflowing. Michael gave +himself and his little school a holiday that they might spend a whole +day in the forest, which lay to the east of Ostron. Paraska made a +large supply of pasties, some of which were filled with boiled cabbage, +and others with fruit; and she baked a quantity of bread and cakes; +for there were quite a dozen children to go besides Michael and Velia, +and Sergius and Marfa, who came as guests, being too old and too busy +to attend the school. They kept this expedition a profound secret, +lest the Orthodox children should follow to the forest and spoil their +holiday.</p> + +<p>There was no road, only a foot track to the forest; and between it and +the steppe lay a deep ravine, crossed by a rude bridge of the trunk of +a tree, which had fallen across the chasm generations ago. Some of the +oldest trees in it had been left untouched for centuries, and as the +timber belonged to the Government, it was left to grow very wild and +untrimmed, though the village was often in dire need of fuel. There was +a great tangle of brushwood; and it had the reputation of being haunted +in some parts of its dark and moist thickets. Only the most daring +spirits among the Knishi boys would venture into its glades. But the +Stundist children were at home there. For during the last few years, +many a secret meeting for worship had been held in a deserted hut some +distance within it.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely day in September. The sun was still hot, but there were +sweet, warm gusts of wind, which tossed the leafy branches to and fro, +and brought with it the sweet perfume of wild flowers and the pungent +scent of herbs. There were many open spaces where the sun had dried the +moist earth, and where the children could play safely. They played till +the little ones were tired, and then they turned their steps towards +the deserted hut, to eat their dinner.</p> + +<p>It had been a charcoal-burner's hut, but for many years no peasant had +consented to work there, so near was it to a fatally-haunted spot. It +stood in a dense thicket, with no beaten track to it; for the Stundists +were careful not to tread down a path which might betray their +meeting-place. A few rough trunks of trees formed some benches for the +congregation to sit upon, and a large log set on end served as a table +for the preacher to stand at, and lay his Bible and hymnbook on. The +children sat here and ate their dinner with a subdued gaiety even more +enjoyable than the boisterous play outside. They sang a grace before +the meal began.</p> + +<p>"Let us hold a meeting," Sergius proposed, when dinner was over, "and +Michael shall be our deacon."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" cried all the children, clapping their hands.</p> + +<p>A few hymn-books were concealed in a hole in the thatched roof. These +were quickly brought out, and Michael took his place behind the +preacher's log, whilst his congregation seated themselves with smiling +faces on the benches.</p> + +<p>"My little brothers and sisters," he began, "we can sing a hymn, but I +don't think it would be right for me to pray. I am too young to do that +out loud, and for you to listen to me. I might say something I ought +not to say; and you would perhaps be thinking of me, not of God. But +I'll talk to you, after we have sung 'Oh, happy band of pilgrims!'"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE children's voices rang out in clear, sweet, and harmonious tones; +for the Oukrainians are a musical people, and fond of choral singing. +Only now and then a shrill note, sounding like a cry of triumph, broke +the harmony. It was little Clava, who had not yet learned how to +modulate her voice; and Sergius would have checked her, only Michael +gave him a sign to let the child sing on.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, when the favourite hymn was finished, "I am going +to tell you about the children in Scotland, whose fathers and mothers +were like the Stundists. They were called the Covenanters, and the +king wanted to make them say they believed what they didn't believe, +and worship God in the churches; and they couldn't, for conscience' +sake—just like our fathers and mothers. All they wanted was to be left +alone to worship God, and obey Him, in the way they believed to be +right. Then the king said they were rebels, and, he sent his soldiers +to compel them to do as he wished, or to put them to death. Then the +Covenanters said they were ready to die, but they could never, never +disobey God. So the men had to flee away, and hide in the steppes and +the mountains. Now, their steppes are not like ours, all open, and +plain to see across, but they are full of rocks and woods and hollows, +where they could hide easily. They suffered dreadfully from hunger and +cold and ragged clothing; and the soldiers hunted them down, and some +of them they caught and shot like wild beasts; and others they sent to +prison; and they hanged many of them. What for? Because they obeyed God +rather than man.</p> + +<p>"But the women, of course, stayed at home with the children; and +sometimes the poor men would steal in to see them, and to get a little +good food and warmth. Then the spies told the soldiers—they were +traitors, those spies were—and the soldiers came; and all the men +and women fled away into the woods, and left the children alone in +the houses. Oh, you may be sure they could hardly bear to do it but +everybody thought, 'The soldiers have children of their own, and they +will not hurt our little ones.'</p> + +<p>"Then the troopers came on great black battle-horses, with swords and +guns; and they searched one house after another, and could find no one +but little children—boys and girls no older than Velia. For big boys +like Serge and me had gone off to the woods and caves with the grown-up +people, because they knew the soldiers would have no mercy on them.</p> + +<p>"Well, when nobody was found, the captain was very angry. In a great +rage he had all the children gathered together, and asked them where +their fathers and mothers were. Do you think the children told the +captain?"</p> + +<p>Michael paused to take breath, and Clava's shrill little voice cried +out, "No!"</p> + +<p>"No, my little Clava," continued Michael, "and you would never tell, if +father or mother were hiding. Then the captain set them all in a row, +with a row of soldiers opposite to them with their guns ready to shoot +them, and bade them kneel down to be killed. So they knelt down, and +the oldest little girl, like Velia, said to the others, 'It will not +hurt much, and then we shall be in heaven!'</p> + +<p>"The captain told them to say their prayers, but the little girl said +they did not know how to pray aloud, though they could sing a hymn. +And the children began to sing a hymn they all knew, and the soldiers +turned away, and rode off on their battle-horses, telling the captain +they were ready to fight with men but not with children, and before the +hymn was finished they were all out of sight."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" sighed the children, drawing a long breath.</p> + +<p>"That was about two hundred years ago," Michael went on, "in Scotland; +and in the very house I lived in there was a little secret closet +in the chimney corner, as if it was close to one of our stoves. One +night the father was warming himself at the fire, when they heard the +soldiers coming, and he slipped into the secret closet, and the mother +ran and got into bed, and only a girl like Marfa was left clearing up +the house. There was a good fire on the hearth, so the soldiers felt +sure somebody was there, and they searched up and down, and then they +asked the girl where her father was, but of course she would not tell. +So they said they would flog her, and she ran out of doors as quickly +as she could run. They followed her, thinking she was running to her +father.</p> + +<p>"But I will tell you why she ran out into the fold-yard. She said to +herself, 'Father will hear if they flog me in the house, and he will +come out and be killed.'</p> + +<p>"And they did flog her, but she stuffed her apron in her mouth, lest +she should scream out. And at last, the soldiers were ashamed. One of +them said she was a brave lassie! She was my grandfather's grandmother, +and they talk about her to this day, so brave she was.</p> + +<p>"But it does not always end as well as that. There is poor Paraska; you +know how both her children have been taken away from her. Well that may +happen to us—not to big boys and girls like Serge and Marfa and me, +they will treat us like grown-up people—but you little ones! Oh, if any +of you are taken away from your own fathers and mothers, you must never +forget them, and what they taught you. You must be true to God and +them. If we die for it, we must be true. We cannot bow down to icons, +or pray to anyone but God. Never! Never! Death is not dreadful if we +love God. It only takes a few minutes to die. Then we are safe for ever +with our Lord Jesus Christ. You will remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" they all cried.</p> + +<p>"It helps me to think often that our Lord was once just like me," +continued Michael; "a boy as old as me, working with His father, and +living at home; just my age—"</p> + +<p>Clava's little brown hand was lifted up to interrupt him; she had an +important question to ask.</p> + +<p>"Was He ever just as little as me?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Exactly as little as you, my Clava," answered Michael; "six years old +only, and His mother took care of Him, just like your mother; and, oh, +He made her so happy, for He was never naughty! Well, whenever we are +tempted, we must try to think what He would have done in our place. +Remember our Lord Jesus died a martyr, and we must be ready to follow +Him. It is not grown-up people only who are martyrs!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>FATHER CYRIL</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AT that moment, whilst Michael was still speaking, the doorway of +the hut was darkened by a man's figure standing between them and the +green light of the forest. The children huddled into a corner, like +frightened lambs; whilst Michael and Sergius stood out boldly in front +of them. The hearts of both of the boys were filled with trouble and +dismay. It was Father Cyril, the Batoushka, who had discovered their +retreat.</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid of me, my children?" he asked in a gentle voice, as +he sat down on one of the logs, and stretched out his arms towards +the startled group. "Come to me, Velia; and little Clava, I have a +sweetmeat for you. Come and sit on my knee. Shake hands with me, +Michael and Sergius. I heard you singing some little time ago, and +after some trouble, I found out where you were hidden."</p> + +<p>"Batoushka," said Michael, stammering and hesitating, "this old hut is +a secret."</p> + +<p>"Not from me now," answered Father Cyril, "but don't be alarmed, my +boys, I respect your fathers, and I will not betray you or your people."</p> + +<p>Michael stood aside, and pushed Velia and Clava towards the village +priest. He took Clava on his knee, and put his arm round Velia; +whilst the rest of the children drew near him, attracted by his kind +and benign aspect. His pale, thoughtful face was that of a youngish +man, though his uncut hair, parted in the middle, and hanging on his +shoulders, and his long beard, gave him a venerable appearance. There +was a half smile on his lips and in his eyes, in spite of the sadness +with which he regarded this childish band of heretics, already eager +for martyrdom. He knew better than they did the perils and sorrows +drawing nearer every day. The resolute, manly bearing of Michael, the +more timid yet firm manner of Sergius, the tender delicacy of Velia, +and the clinging weakness of little Clava, appealed irresistibly to +his pity. He felt as the Lord may have felt when they brought young +children to Him for His blessing, if He foresaw that these little ones +must pass through the fires of persecution. Father Cyril knew that +these helpless children were doomed to swiftly coming sorrows; and +his heart ached, and tears came into his eyes, as he laid his hand on +Clava's head and gave her a silent benediction.</p> + +<p>"My children," he said, "I see you seldom, but none the less I feel +as if you belonged to me. You are in my parish, and the Church has +appointed me to be your Batoushka. I would give all I have—yes, and +lay down my life—to bring you, and all your people, back to the Church +you have forsaken. Yes, Michael, I know that cannot be at present. +The Church must be purified and reformed, but we too are Christians. +I would have no man dare to sign himself with the sign of the cross, +without truly recollecting the cross of Christ. No man should put an +icon into his house, except as a reminder of the constant presence +of God, before whose sight, he could not commit a wrong deed, and in +whose hearing he could not utter an evil word. The symbols must only +represent truths, or they are worse than useless. There will come a +time—but the end is very far-off."</p> + +<p>Father Cyril paused, with a break in his voice like the sob of a +wearied runner. Velia pressed closer to him, and leaned her head +against him as if he had been her father. The hearts of the children +were touched, and they drew still nearer to him, clustering about his +feet. Michael's eyes were fastened upon the Batoushka's agitated face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish we could belong to you!" he cried. "But we cannot! We +cannot!"</p> + +<p>"But we can pray together, my children," said Father Cyril.</p> + +<p>Kneeling down in the midst of the children, under the roof of the +deserted hut, where alone the proscribed Stundists dared to worship, +the Batoushka offered a simple prayer, intelligible even to little +Clava, that God would be with them in the troublous times that were +coming, and save them from all evil, especially the sin of disobeying +His voice when He spoke through their conscience.</p> + +<p>When they rose from their knees, he kissed each one of them on the +forehead; and they bent their heads as he pronounced a priestly +benediction upon them. The Batoushka and the band of childish heretics +were very near to each other at that moment.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril walked slowly homewards through the thickly-grown forest. +He felt sure that he could win the people back to Orthodoxy but for the +persecution they were always encountering. He had no faith in coercive +measures. Besides, he acknowledged sadly and reluctantly that a vast +accumulation of superstitious rites and beliefs was suffocating the +Church. He had never been so conscious of it as since he had lived +in this remote country parish, where none of the spirit of town life +breathed over the stagnant waters.</p> + +<p>When at last he came in sight of the church-house, he saw his wife—the +young Matoushka, as the villagers called her—standing at the door, +looking out anxiously for his return. She held in her hand a large +official-looking packet, which she raised above her head as he came in +sight.</p> + +<p>"From the consistory," she called out, "with the archbishop's seal. Oh, +I am so curious!"</p> + +<p>Father Cyril hastened in, and opened the document and read in unbroken +silence, whilst his wife waited impatiently for news. He sank down on a +seat, and covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dearest one!" she cried. "Tell me what is the matter quickly."</p> + +<p>"A cruel thing," he groaned, "a cruel thing; and I must do it."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked again breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"An order from the consistory," he answered, "that I must take all +Stundist children between two and ten years of age from their parents, +and place them in Orthodox families; their maintenance to be paid for +by fines levied on their heretic fathers. Think of it, dear wife—think +of our own little ones. Ah! Those monks who have neither wife nor +children do not know how cruel they are!"</p> + +<p>The Matoushka burst into a passion of tears, when Father Cyril told her +with a broken voice and a face of profound pity.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather see my children in their coffins," she sobbed, "than lose +them in such a cruel way. Poor Tatiania! Her husband in prison, and +little Clava to be taken from her. It will break her heart! And Velia +Alexovna! How old is she, Cyril?"</p> + +<p>"Not ten yet," he answered. "Oh, it is frightful, and absolutely +useless! We shall never win them back if the authorities adopt measures +like these. Would to God I could disregard the order!"</p> + +<p>"Cannot you put it off, and go to see the archbishop?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied; "the Starosta has got an order from the police in +Kovylsk to assist me in carrying out the order. Okhrim will rejoice +over it; he hates the Stundists with all his heart, and so does the old +Matoushka. Oh, they are at the bottom of all this!"</p> + +<p>Father Cyril could not sleep that night, his brain was too much +worried with vexatious and perplexing questions. How should he break +the terrible tidings to the Stundist families? How could he bear +the heartrending scenes he would be obliged to witness—himself the +unwilling messenger of the cruel sentence? And what homes could he +choose for the children, whom he must provide for as carefully and +kindly as possible? They must be homes with which the sober, cleanly, +and religious parents might be moderately content. He awoke his wife +to ask her if she would be willing to take Velia and Clava into their +own home, to live with their own children, and she answered drowsily, +"Yes, yes, beloved!" Surely no objection could be made to this step. A +priest's house was an Orthodox house.</p> + +<p>Then there was Yarina, the richest woman in Knishi, with only one +little girl. True she was Okhrim's daughter-in-law, but she was a widow +for the second time, and quite independent of her husband's father. +She was regular at church; though she was not as devout as the old +Matoushka, Father Vasili's widow, who never missed a church service. He +would not place a child with the old Matoushka—her temper was bad, and +she was too miserly—a child would lead a terrible life with her.</p> + +<p>Well, he must do the best he could for all of them. They would be under +his own eye; and he would see each child every day in the village +school, which of course they would now be expected to attend. Poor +Michael! His little class would be scattered.</p> + +<p>One clause of the order hurt Father Cyril's tender soul more than the +others. The parents were not permitted to hold any kind of intercourse +with their children unless they returned to the Orthodox faith. Ah! +What daily agony there would be both for parents and children! It +would have been almost better—more merciful—to have removed the little +ones altogether out of sight. Yet, after all, would there not be some +consolation to the mothers to see their children, even from afar?</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A CRUEL BLOW</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE children who had been spending the day in the forest went home at +sunset, wearied but very happy. They parted with one another after +they had crossed the rough bridge, and Michael and Velia went on hand +in hand towards Ostron. Michael felt his heart strongly attracted by +Father Cyril. If all priests were like him, he thought, there would +be no persecution. And why should not people think differently about +religion, as they did about everything else? The Stundists accepted +the teaching of the New Testament literally. The Orthodox people added +symbols and ceremonies and the traditions of the Church to it. He could +not see that it made the New Testament any more binding. If the Lord +gave a command, His followers must obey it.</p> + +<p>As Michael and Velia turned into the fold-yard, they heard a loud +harsh voice speaking on the other side of the house. They hurried +round the corner, and saw Okhrim, the Starosta, who was reading with +some difficulty from a large official document. He had not entered the +house; and Alexis stood listening, whilst Paraska could be seen partly +concealed by the door which she held ajar.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>THE STAROSTA WAS READING FROM A DOCUMENT.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Michael and Velia drew near just as Okhrim, with a spiteful smile on +his harsh face, read the plainly-worded order that the Starosta was to +aid the parish priest in removing all children of Stundist parents, +between the ages of two and ten years, and placing them in Orthodox +families, where they would be brought up in the Orthodox faith. A +wild frenzied shriek from Paraska rang through the quiet evening air; +and Velia, who understood the slowly-uttered order, uttered a cry of +terror, and flinging herself into her father's arms, clung closely to +him, as if no power on earth could tear her from the shelter of his +breast.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God!" cried Alexis. "What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Do?" repeated Okhrim contemptuously. "Why, become a good Christian, +and go to church and pay the Church dues. Ay! And drink vodka as +other Christians do. I believe you Stundists are the greatest fools +living. The child is to be brought up Orthodox, and if you won't do it, +somebody else must. I'll take her myself, and if fair means won't 'tice +her to church, there is always this."</p> + +<p>He cracked his whip, which he always flourished in his hand, and was +not reluctant to use it on anybody he dared to tyrannise over. Alexis +felt Velia tremble violently in his arms.</p> + +<p>"O Father," he cried, "if it be possible, save us from this hour!"</p> + +<p>"There you go," said Okhrim, with a sneer and a laugh, "as if God +Almighty could hear you amid all His angels and archangels singing +and chanting, to say nothing of the blessed saints. If I were in your +plight, I'd pray humbly to one of the smallest saints, and get him to +speak to those higher up; and maybe it might reach at last the ear of +the Mother of God. Not that she'd do anything for a cursed Stundist. +Besides, she'd never interfere with our archbishop and the consistory."</p> + +<p>"Can we do nothing, father?" cried Michael.</p> + +<p>"I must think," said Alexis, turning to him with an expression of +almost hopeless anguish; "we have no power, no influence. Oh, if I had +only sent Velia to Scotland with you, she would have been safe! But +there are other fathers and other mothers. Oh, my God! Help us to bear +it!"</p> + +<p>For once in his life Okhrim's conscience stung him, and he turned away, +slowly passing out of sight.</p> + +<p>Alexis carried Velia into the house, and Paraska locked and barred the +door, as if she could shut out the coming trouble.</p> + +<p>It was a sleepless night for Alexis, as well as for Father Cyril. The +thought crossed his mind that he would have time to carry Michael and +Velia to Odessa, and get his wife's kinsman there to send them away to +Scotland. But a step like this would only precipitate and intensify the +storm ready to burst, not only upon himself but upon hundreds of fellow +Stundists in the district. There were other parents, even in Knishi, +who would have the same most heavy cross laid upon them. They were +not only to be bereft of their children, but they knew those children +would be brought up in tenets which they themselves renounced with such +fervour that they were willing to sacrifice everything rather than +profess to believe them. No, he could not save Velia in that way.</p> + +<p>Then he thought pitifully of Tatiania, whose husband, Khariton +Kondraty, had been in jail for nine months. She too would now have to +give up little Clava, her youngest child, the pet and darling of the +house. Poor Tatiania! Could she stand fast in her faith, so severely +tried? Could any of the mothers refrain from going back to the Orthodox +Church, if by doing so they could keep their little ones? Ah! This +was the sharpest weapon of all in the Orthodox armoury. "Give me the +children," the Church demanded, "and the mothers will follow."</p> + +<p>Then Father Cyril was so good and kind and persuasive; so different +from Father Vasili, who had been an idle, self-indulgent, and arrogant +parish priest. It would make it much easier for the women to go back to +the Orthodox Church. By slow degrees they would relapse into the old +condition of superstitious observances, and the lamp of truth would be +extinguished in Knishi, as it had been in other places.</p> + +<p>But below every other thought there rang through his soul the cry, "Oh, +Velia, my little child! Would to God we could die together, my child +and I!"</p> + +<p>The morning came, and a wretched circle assembled at breakfast. Michael +and Velia had both slept, but their eyes were red, as if they had wept +themselves to sleep and awoke with tears again. Paraska was heavy-eyed, +and completely dumb. They were lingering together, as if they could not +bear to separate, even for an hour, when Father Cyril appeared at the +door.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Okhrim has been before me!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have come +last night. My poor Alexis! But the order is not to be executed before +Sunday that the people may have time to make their submission, and be +reconciled to the Church. Those parents who come to confession will +keep their children, on condition that they bring them up as Orthodox +Christians."</p> + +<p>"We shall see who can bear the severest temptations," said Alexis, with +a sad smile.</p> + +<p>"But I will start off to Kovylsk at once if you can drive me," said +Father Cyril; "and I will ask for an interview with the archbishop. +Come, Alexis; I am a father too. I feel for you. I can guess the terror +little Velia feels, poor lamb."</p> + +<p>He sat down on the bench, and took the trembling little girl into his +arms. The tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. He felt great shame in +the errand forced upon him. This terrible order, which he was called +upon to execute, seemed to him a monstrous attack upon a parent's +rights—those primal rights which existed before the Church was founded. +He sat in silence for some minutes, until he could command his voice. +From time to time, he stroked Velia's hair and patted her cheek. And +the child nestled close to him, much comforted.</p> + +<p>"We must bestir ourselves, and do the best we can," he said, almost +stammering.</p> + +<p>"And leave the result to God," added Alexis. "But how can I quit my +little daughter just now?"</p> + +<p>"Let her go and play with my little ones," answered Father Cyril; "the +Matoushka will be like a mother to her. We will put her down at the +church-house; for we must tell my wife we shall be away for one or two +nights."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>ORTHODOX REASONING</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AS they drove across the steppe, in the two-wheeled cart without +springs, at the slow, monotonous trot of the old mare, Father Cyril +had a better opportunity than he had ever had before of a prolonged +discussion with Alexis Ivanoff on the tenets and history of their +young sect. He was filled with surprise and admiration. The absolute +simplicity and truthfulness of the farmer, united as it was with mental +strength and a close grasp of his subject, astonished the Batoushka. +Alexis was not logical; he had had no training in a theological +seminary, like Father Cyril. He argued as the fishermen of Galilee +would have argued. But his convictions were as strong as theirs, who +had seen the Lord with their eyes, and heard Him with their ears. +Father Cyril could not help admitting that the worship of the Stundists +was far more in accordance with that of the apostolic age than the +ornate, multitudinous, and magnificent ceremonies of the Orthodox +Church. He owned that the peasants, in their ignorance, did worship +the icons with idolatry. Yet in fundamental Christian doctrines, he +and Alexis were one. They prayed to the same Father in heaven; they +believed in the same Lord; they studied the same Holy Scriptures. There +was real spiritual communion between them, as they slowly crossed the +brown autumnal steppe, now lying under a thin veil of mist, which hid +the horizon, and enclosed them in a soft circle of mellowed light.</p> + +<p>They reached Kovylsk too late to go to the consistory that night. But +quite early in the morning Father Cyril presented himself at the gate, +and inquired for Father Paissy, who was known throughout the diocese as +the archbishop's right hand. They had been at the theological seminary +together, where they had been on friendly terms, but they had seen +nothing of one another since Father Paissy had elected to enter the +order of the monastical clergy, who take vows of celibacy, and who +alone can be raised to the higher ranks of the Russian priesthood. He +was already a powerful personage. He was a small, sharp-featured man, +with a soft voice, and a perpetual smile on his thin lips.</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril, parish priest of Knishi?" he said interrogatively, +without condescending to recognise him as his former comrade. "Ah! You +have a troublesome flock. Heresy runs like an infectious disease among +them. We must stamp it out—stamp it out effectually."</p> + +<p>"I come in the hope of seeing the archbishop," said Father Cyril.</p> + +<p>"He is in Moscow," interrupted Father Paissy, "but I can act in his +stead."</p> + +<p>It was a great blow to Father Cyril; for the archbishop never refused +him an interview, and he had placed great hopes on his indulgence. It +is easier to prevent a thing being done than to get it undone. There +was no sign of indulgence in the hard face opposite him.</p> + +<p>"I came to intercede for my poor parishioners," he said gently, "those +unhappy parents who are to be deprived of their young children. Some +of them are scarcely out of their mothers' arms, and still require a +mother's care in childish maladies. Only a mother's patience is strong +enough to bear them through the first seven years. A child's heart is +capable of great sorrows, and its spirit is quickly broken if it is +sent among strangers, and separated from all it has known from its +birth."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Father Paissy, with a deep breath, which sounded almost like +a sigh.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril went on, encouraged.</p> + +<p>"The unfortunate people who have left our holy Church," he continued, +"are most affectionate parents. It is their universal practice to +treat their little ones with the utmost tenderness. They look upon +their children as entrusted to their care by God Himself. True, that +may be an error, but it is their belief. The children never hear +uncivil words; they never see a drunken person in their homes. Think, +your reverence, what it must be to children so carefully reared to be +distributed among the houses of peasants who are ignorant and degraded +by vodka-drinking. There would be great difficulty in finding suitable +homes for them with our Orthodox peasants."</p> + +<p>"You seem to think very highly of your heretics," said Father Paissy in +a scoffing tone.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril felt that he had forgotten himself.</p> + +<p>"I grieve over their heresy night and day," he answered earnestly; "it +makes my life in Knishi a burden to me. I never had this trouble to +encounter before. But oh, believe me, harsh measures will never bring +them back to us, above all, not such a measure as this! Every father, +every mother worthy of the name, will cry out against it. I assure your +reverence, I was gaining some influence over them; I have seen two or +three steal in at the church door to listen to my sermons. Let me plead +their cause to you. Do you, with your powerful influence, get this +terrible order rescinded. The Stundists will bless you, and it will add +greatly to my influence in the parish."</p> + +<p>"Do you forget the children's immortal souls?" asked Father Paissy. "Is +their salvation of no moment?"</p> + +<p>"Alas!" cried Father Cyril. "If salvation means to be saved from sin, +I must confess that these poor straying heretics have advanced farther +along the path of salvation than our superstitious, half-pagan Orthodox +peasants. I am striving my utmost to teach and raise them, but only +a parish priest can know how deeply they are sunk in degradation and +drunkenness."</p> + +<p>"I can do nothing for you," said Father Paissy in a chilling voice; +"the consistory has issued the order, and it must remain as it is. It +must also be obeyed promptly, Father Cyril."</p> + +<p>The Batoushka felt his heart sink within him, as he looked at the set +and stubborn face before him, with its cruel smile still playing about +its lips. Neither this man nor the archbishop could understand what a +father's love was, and they had no knowledge of a child's nature. His +chief hope was gone, but another was left to him.</p> + +<p>"I may place the children as I please," he asked, "provided I settle +them in Orthodox families? Some houses are much better than others."</p> + +<p>"Just as you like—just as you like," said Father Paissy impatiently; +"only let me warn you, Father Cyril, no indulgence to the heretics! We +intend to weed them out, root and branch. Our long-suffering is at an +end. Church or Siberia! Church or Caucasus! They must choose between +them."</p> + +<p>Alexis was waiting at the entrance to the consistory when Father Cyril +came out. He had been to see two or three friends in Kovylsk, who had +sympathised with him deeply, but gave him no hope that the order would +be rescinded. It had been sent to many other villages besides Knishi, +and there was lamentation and bitter weeping in them all: "Rachel +weeping for her children refused to be comforted."</p> + +<p>"Yet, 'Thus saith the Lord,'" said Alexis, "'Refrain thy voice from +weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, +saith the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. +And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall +come again to their own border.' Send that message to the churches, and +bid them trust the Lord to keep His promises."</p> + +<p>He knew the moment he caught sight of Father Cyril's downcast face that +he had failed in his mission. But Alexis had regained his habitual +courage and resignation. He said to himself, "'He that loveth son or +daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me.'" Hard words! But they were +the words of his crucified Lord.</p> + +<p>They scarcely spoke to one another until they were some distance out of +Kovylsk, and could no longer see the glittering domes of its numerous +churches. Then Father Cyril owned his bitter disappointment. "It will +break my heart," he said.</p> + +<p>"The soul is stronger than the heart," replied Alexis. "Now I submit +myself to God's will, and leave my little child in His hands. He +loves her better than I can; yes, He loves her with an infinite and +everlasting love."</p> + +<p>"Velia and little Clava shall come to me," said Father Cyril.</p> + +<p>Alexis dropped the reins and turned to him, as if he had not heard +clearly what was said.</p> + +<p>"My wife and I have settled that," Father Cyril went on, with tears in +his eyes; "they shall be to us the same as our own children."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you good man!" interrupted Alexis. "Oh, how can I thank you? What +can I do for you? Oh, if all Batoushkas were like you!"</p> + +<p>"I would take them all if I could," said Father Cyril, "but I will +find the best houses I can for every one of them. Yarina will take +two, I am sure. Then there are seven or eight more. The worst part of +the order is that the parents are to have no intercourse whatever with +the children, and not in any way to interfere with their training. But +they will live in the same village, and see them from time to time, +though at a distance. They will know they are all under my protection, +and they can always come to the church-house and hear from me, or the +Matoushka, of their welfare. Oh, I will do my best for them."</p> + +<p>"You will teach them no false religion," said Alexis.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for religion," replied Father Cyril, "they must come to church, +and be brought up to observe the Orthodox rites and accept the Orthodox +doctrines. There is no way to escape that, but, Alexis Ivanoff, there +is salvation to be found in every Church."</p> + +<p>The telega stopped at the church-house after nightfall. Father Cyril +called to Alexis to come to look through the uncurtained window. There, +on a rug near the stove, sat Velia, with Father Cyril's two little +daughters, one on each side of her. The children's heads were close +together, and their faces shone in the lamplight. They were laughing +merrily, and the Matoushka was laughing too.</p> + +<p>"God bless them!" cried Father Cyril, as he grasped Alexis Ivanoff's +hand.</p> + +<p>"God bless you!" replied Alexis.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MOTHERS AND CHILDREN</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>BUT to get little Clava away from her mother, Tatiania, was a hard +task, almost an impossible one. The other parents recognised the +absolute impossibility of evading the order of the consistory, and they +listened submissively to the arrangements made for their children by +the Batoushka, who was supported by Alexis Ivanoff. But Tatiania would +listen to no reasoning or persuasion. Her husband had been in prison +for nine months, and but for Sergius and Marfa, who had done all the +work on their land, and with their beehives, the family would have +fallen into dire poverty. They were, of course, much poorer than they +had been in former years. But she would not give up her darling, she +declared—no, not if the archbishop himself came to take her away. The +Matoushka came to entreat her to trust little Clava to her, but in vain.</p> + +<p>"Oh, foolish woman!" cried Paraska to her. "You'd know where she was, +and how kind they were to her, and you'd see her in the street, and +watch her growing up and changing into a girl. And I shouldn't know my +boys now if I saw them. They were babies when they took them from me +eight years ago, and now—! No, I'd pass them in the road and not know +them for my own sons."</p> + +<p>It was not until a letter came from Khariton Kondraty, written in +his prison cell in Kovylsk, bidding his wife give up the child, that +Tatiania yielded, and little Clava went to the church-house, where +Velia was already settled.</p> + +<p>Profound grief, underneath which lay a presentiment of still heavier +calamities, if that were possible, took possession of the little +community of Stundists. Every house had lost one or two of its +children. Several of the mothers, with their hungry love for their +little ones, could not keep aloof from the village church, where alone +they could see them and be for a short time under the same roof. +Paraska told them they were highly favoured; she did not even know if +her boys were living. Alexis Ivanoff in his great pity did not reproach +the women for their stolen attendances at the parish church. Velia had +returned to him for two or three days before he was compelled to resign +her to the care of Father Cyril and the sweet-tempered Matoushka. They +had been days of unutterable anguish, the Gethsemane of his soul. After +this sacrifice to his faith, no trial could be too bitter.</p> + +<p>The old Matoushka, Father Vasili's widow, took care that a report of +the return of the heretic mothers to the Orthodox Church should reach +Father Paissy's ears. He heard it with a smile of self-satisfaction. At +last, then, he had discovered a way of dealing with the Stundists of +the diocese.</p> + +<p>Michael's spirit in those days was hot and mutinous within him. Not +so much on account of Velia, whom he could visit frequently, but for +the sake of his father and little Clava's mother, who could hold no +intercourse with their children, and who were visibly aged by their +grief. Why could not the Stundists do as the Scottish Covenanters had +done before them, set up the standard of revolt, and defend themselves +until the right cause triumphed? Why should not they strike a blow for +freedom—at any rate, for freedom to serve and worship God according to +their conscience? Alexis listened to his boy with a melancholy smile.</p> + +<p>"First of all," he answered, "because we remember that our Lord +suffered His enemies to take Him and crucify Him, though He might have +had a legion of angels to take vengeance on them. He said to Simon +Peter, 'Put up thy sword into its place: for all they that take the +sword shall perish with the sword.' 'The cup that My Father hath given +Me, shall not I drink it?' Yes, Lord, we must drink the cup that Thou +givest us! Cannot God save us, if that be best for us and for our +country?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the boy.</p> + +<p>"That is the chief point," pursued Alexis, "but to revolt would be +utter madness. It would mean our extermination. Scotland is a small +country, and the Covenanters could easily band together. Besides, the +people were mostly in their favour. But Russia is vast, and the people +are our enemies, and will be as long as superstition and drink have the +upper hand. Here in Knishi, with nearly a hundred parishioners—that is, +heads of families—only nine of us are Stundists. Our nearest sister +church is in Kovylsk, a day's journey from us; there are some thousands +of inhabitants, and not more than a hundred brethren who are quite +sound in the faith. Our little churches are feeble in themselves, and +lie miles apart. Truly, if we took the sword, we should quickly perish +with the sword. We could not combine for resistance; we can only do so +for mutual sympathy and help. No, my boy, it is God's will, and we must +submit to it."</p> + +<p>The Russian people, like all Eastern nations, are fatalists; and +Alexis Ivanoff was not without this strain in his temperament. There +is an element of peace in it, but not much element of progress. Boy +as he was, Michael chafed against it with all the love of freedom, +and a desire to strike a blow for it, which he had inherited from +his Scottish ancestors. God's will was ever for the right, and this +persecution was wrong.</p> + +<p>The children over ten years of age were suffering in many ways, besides +having their younger brothers and sisters ruthlessly separated from +them. They could not pass along the village street, or drive their +parents' oxen to water at the village well, without having stones +or clods thrown at them. If they went out in numbers for mutual +protection, the Orthodox children formed bands which lay in ambush to +attack them. At a lonely cottage, left in charge of two girls whilst +their parents were working in the communal lands, the door was locked, +and the young persecutors gathered a quantity of reeds and ill-smelling +weeds, and set fire to them under the unglazed window, until the +noisome smoke almost suffocated the terrified girls. It was useless to +complain to the Starosta, and Father Cyril found himself powerless to +prevent such outrages.</p> + +<p>The women dared not send their girls to the shop; and only big +boys like Michael and Sergius could water the cattle, or fill the +buckets for home use. They did it under a constant shower of abuse, +occasionally accompanied by skilfully aimed missiles. But on the whole +the village boys were afraid of Michael.</p> + +<p>One day, as Michael was going down to the river to look after some +wicker fish-traps he had hidden in the water, he saw a girl standing +in the track leading to the washing-place, with a big boy brandishing +a whip over her. Before he could reach them, the long lash was falling +upon the girl's bowed shoulders and bare ankles in rapid stinging +stripes. She stood motionless, protecting her face with her hands, +and uttering no cry. The clothes she had been washing lay trampled in +the mud. It was Marfa, and the boy who was flogging her was Okhrim's +grandson, and a bully and a coward. Michael had just been reading how +Moses in Egypt saw one of his brethren suffer wrong, and forthwith +avenged him that was oppressed, and smote the Egyptian. He considered +the example of Moses was to be followed.</p> + +<p>"Stop that!" he cried, seizing the whip, and breaking the handle of +it in two. "You coward! Come on and fight me, if you dare, you mean, +skulking, miserable coward!"</p> + +<p>But the boy dared not fight. He stood still for a moment glaring at +them; then, spitting at Marfa, turned away, running as fast as he +could. Michael was for pursuing him, but Marfa held him fast by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Michael, you shouldn't, you shouldn't!" she sobbed, lifting up her +tear-stained face. "I could have borne it. Oh yes, I was bearing it. I +was saying to myself, 'This is for Jesus Christ's sake.' I didn't cry +out, did I, Michael?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered; "you were quite dumb. But I couldn't stand by and +see a girl flogged like that. No, no, Marfa! I did right, and I should +do it again."</p> + +<p>"It will bring us both into trouble," said Marfa, picking up the soiled +clothes, and carrying them back to the washing-stage.</p> + +<p>Michael lingered about till she was ready to go home. And after seeing +her there safely, he went on to his father's house, carefully avoiding +the village street. Alexis looked greatly troubled when Michael told +him what had happened.</p> + +<p>"I will go and tell Father Cyril after dark," he said. "If anyone can +help us, he can and will. You did right, but no one knows what the +issue may be. Tell me, my son, did you feel angry with the boy?"</p> + +<p>Michael flung back his head, and his face grew crimson.</p> + +<p>"I felt as savage as a wild beast," he cried; "if I had not broken the +whip and flung it away the first moment, I should have flogged him."</p> + +<p>"Thank God you didn't!" answered Alexis. "But oh, Michael, my boy, you +must learn to 'love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good +to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and +persecute you.' It is our Lord's command."</p> + +<p>"It is too hard for me yet, father," said Michael frankly. "I could +forgive them gladly and make friends again, if they wanted it. But they +delight in being enemies. It's as much fun to some of them to lurk +round corners and throw stones at us from behind, as it used to be to +play games with us. But I'll try to keep our Lord's commands; I'll try +my utmost. A boy can't be perfect all at once."</p> + +<p>"Nor a man either," said Alexis, with a smile and a sigh. "It is a hard +saying, but He who said it will give us grace to obey it. Only love +Him, Michael, and, presently we shall learn to love all for whom He +died."</p> + +<p>In the dusk Alexis went to the church-house. It was somewhat larger +than his own, and possessed a slate roof, and glass in every casement. +It stood near the church, and not far from the cemetery, where, until +the last few years, all the village comrades in life had found their +last resting-place for their toil-worn and wearied bodies. But now the +Stundists were forbidden to bury their dead beside their forefathers. +Any unconsecrated hole was good enough for their unhallowed corpses. +Father Cyril was sitting alone, but the voices of the Matoushka and +the children could be heard in the kitchen, where supper was being +prepared. Alexis heard Velia's beloved voice singing an evening hymn +with the other little ones. Father Cyril was reading by the light of +a lamp with three wicks. Through the uncurtained window could be seen +the dim, great plain, which lay like a sea round the little island of +Knishi. The first slight veil of snow was lying softly upon it, for the +autumn was already over.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril invited Alexis to sit down. The former Batoushka had +zealously testified to his religion by not permitting a heretic to +take a seat in his house. Alexis sat down by the window, gazing out at +the white wilderness on which the moon was shining softly. He told his +story simply, without looking at the Batoushka.</p> + +<p>"Would to God I had been there instead of Michael!" exclaimed Father +Cyril. "I always suspected that young rascal was the ringleader in this +persecution of children by children. If I could but have laid my hand +upon him! Then I would have sent a report to the archbishop. Surely no +servant of God could wink at such an evil. It frustrates all my efforts +to teach them mercy and loving-kindness. It is making them more savage +and cruel than their parents were before them."</p> + +<p>Father Cyril's voice faltered, and Alexis turned to see why he ceased +speaking. He had buried his face in his hands, and the lamplight shone +upon tears trickling through his interlaced fingers.</p> + +<p>"Father, forgive them! They know not what they do," murmured Alexis.</p> + +<p>"Amen!" said the Batoushka.</p> + +<p>Before them both, the Orthodox priest and the heretical Stundist, +there rose a vision of their crucified Lord, in the hour of His bodily +anguish, when rude, rough hands were nailing Him to His cross on +Calvary. Both thought of that hour with profound pity and love, but the +remembrance brought more strength and comfort to Alexis than to Father +Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Amen!" he repeated. "Our Lord said it. And He also said, 'Blessed are +you when men shall revile you, and persecute you, for My sake. Rejoice, +and be exceeding glad.' Father Cyril, we are ready to follow where the +Lord leads."</p> + +<p>"But what about the persecutors?" said Father Cyril. "And I am on their +side. Alexis, it will break my heart!"</p> + +<p>They were silent for some minutes.</p> + +<p>"I fear this will bring fresh trouble," said the Batoushka, "but I will +send a report at once to the archbishop. You are sure Michael did not +strike the Starosta's grandson?"</p> + +<p>"He confesses he would have done it," replied Alexis, "if he had not +broken the whip and thrown it away the first moment. But who will +believe him?"</p> + +<p>"I will go and see Marfa first thing in the morning," said Father +Cyril. "Little Clava and your Velia are in there," he added, nodding +towards the kitchen; "they are dear children to us."</p> + +<p>The children had just finished singing, and pattering steps came +towards the door to fetch Father Cyril to supper. He hastened to +intercept them and send them back; for no heretic parents were +permitted to hold any intercourse with the children taken from them.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A HARD WINTER</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FATHER CYRIL'S report to the archbishop did no good. The Starosta +Okhrim, mad with rage, went to Kovylsk, and had a personal interview +with Father Paissy, at the consistory. This priest had a special +interest in the suppression of Stundism at Knishi. Some few years +before he had been present at an outbreak of popular prejudice, excited +by himself, which had resulted in the death of a Stundist woman named +Ooliana Rodenko. Her son Paul, and Paraska's husband Demyan, had been +exiled to Siberia, with other prominent men among the Stundists. If +these sharp measures failed to root out heresy, they appeared almost +like crimes. Father Paissy was resolved to attain his object. The end +justified the means. But what if the end was not achieved? This time he +determined to stamp out Stundism, once for all, in Knishi. If Father +Cyril failed to win the heretics back to the Orthodox Church, they must +be exterminated.</p> + +<p>All the men of the Stundist households, nine in number, were arrested, +and carried off to the prison in Kovylsk. The women were left without +their natural protectors, and without breadwinners in their desolated +homes. No one was left to do the necessary winter work except +themselves, and the children between ten and fifteen years of age. +Alexis Ivanoff gone, Michael was left with all the toil and care of the +farm upon his shoulders, shared only by Paraska, who, under this new +calamity, shook off the lethargy of her despair, and showed herself +full of energy and resource. Tatiania, too, roused herself from the +melancholy that had possessed her since the loss of little Clava, and +she went from house to house comforting and encouraging the other women +in the trouble still new to them. It was an old trouble to her, for it +was nearly twelve months since her husband, Khariton Kondraty, had been +imprisoned.</p> + +<p>The Starosta, Okhrim, and his grandson paraded the village street with +insolent triumph, but Father Cyril kept the day of arrest as a day of +fasting and prayer in the solitude of the church vestry.</p> + +<p>Winter had already set in, making the whole wide landscape white. The +houses and barns stood out against the sky like huge heaps of snow. +Every morning the street was trackless under the fresh falls that +fell each night; and every evening the white surface was marked with +countless footprints and furrows. All the cattle and sheep were under +cover, and needed to be fed and watered every day. Michael was kept +busily occupied, and Sergius came to help him as soon as his own work +was done at home.</p> + +<p>The village was cut off from all intercourse with the outer world until +the snow was frozen hard enough to bear the sledges. There were only +two sledges in Knishi, one belonging to Okhrim and the other to the +innkeeper. There was no chance of hearing news of the prisoners in +Kovylsk.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril no longer checked the visits of Michael and Sergius +to their little sisters in the church-house. On the contrary, he +encouraged them; and the boys went often, on one pretext or another. +Velia's childish heart was full of vague dreads and sharp sorrow +for her father in prison, but little Clava was as gay and happy as +a child can be. The Matoushka treated them exactly the same as her +own children; whilst Father Cyril was, if possible, more tender and +indulgent to them than to his own. He could not look at them without a +feeling of the deepest pity.</p> + +<p>As a loyal servant of his Church, he did his best to place its tenets +in a clear manner before Michael and Sergius, feeling persuaded they +did not know or understand them. The boys listened to him attentively +and respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril," said Michael one day, "if a strong man came to your +house, and dragged your sister from you, and carried your father off to +a dreadful prison, could you think he was God's servant?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Father Cyril, almost smiling.</p> + +<p>"That is what the archbishop has done," continued Michael; "he has done +it both to Serge and me. You think he stands higher up in God's service +than you do. We don't think so. We could never, never believe he is +really serving God, for God is love."</p> + +<p>Father Cyril gave no answer. He could not tell them the archbishop was +ignorant—the excuse he always made for the peasants. He looked at the +two earnest, sturdy lads before him with compassionate eyes.</p> + +<p>"Be good, my boys!" he said. "Be good, and your conscience will tell +you when you are disobeying God."</p> + +<p>Michael and Sergius were much together. Sergius had only one cow and +a few sheep to tend, whilst Michael had many cattle and horses and a +numerous flock. The boys went to and fro daily between their homes, +always avoiding the village street, infested as it was by foes, and +making their way along by-paths, through deep drifts of snow. The +active life and frequent exposure to extreme cold hardened their bodies.</p> + +<p>"As hard as nails," Sergius declared.</p> + +<p>On the contrary, Marfa and her mother Tatiania grew pallid and weakly +with prolonged confinement to the house, and continual fretting about +Khariton and little Clava. Only on Sunday morning Tatiania, with her +hungry mother's heart, made her way along the white street, and stole +within the church door during mass, that she might at least see with +her own eyes her little girl sitting with the Batoushka's children.</p> + +<p>By the New Year the snow was as hard as the roads were in summer, and +much pleasanter to travel over, as it was smoother, and there were no +clouds of dust. The sky, too, was clear, and of a deep blue, which +contrasted beautifully with the unsullied snow. The road to Kovylsk +was traced out plainly by the tradesmen's sledges, which had come to +bring supplies to the village shops. But no letters had arrived from +the prisoners in Kovylsk; and every heretic soul was longing for some +tidings of them.</p> + +<p>In Alexis Ivanoff's barn there was a rough sort of sledge, which he +had been wont to use for carrying up reeds from the river. Michael and +Sergius determined to get over to Kovylsk secretly in this old sledge, +taking only Marfa and Paraska into their counsels. This was necessary, +as they would have to tend the cattle during their absence. Tatiania +they dared not tell, lest she should talk about it to some of their +Stundist neighbours.</p> + +<p>In the dead of the night the boys dragged the sledge along the silent +street, hearing every little jar of the runners as if it had been a +shriek loud enough to arouse the neighbourhood. They hid it behind a +low hillock where the open steppe began; for luckily they found the +gate at the barrier not securely fastened. At sunrise they led the +mare, with sacks slung across her, through the street, as if they were +going on some errand to Yarina's farm, which lay on that side of the +village. Okhrim's grandson saw them, and shouted some words of abuse, +but kept at a safe distance. No one else took any notice of them; and +before long they were driving over the snowclad steppe.</p> + +<p>It was bitterly cold, but they had on their sheepskin coats, and caps +of Astrachan fur. In their sacks was food enough for three or four +days, which Paraska had provided, besides a present for Markovin, to +whose house Michael was bound. The air was stinging but wonderfully +exhilarating. The low sun lay like a red ball in the filmy sky. The +old mare ran at a much brisker pace than her jog-trot under the sultry +sunshine. They were jolted and jerked by the shaking of the rough +sledge, but this was part of the pleasure to the hardy lads. They sang +and laughed and talked as if there was no sorrow for them in the past, +the present, or the future.</p> + +<p>The short day was over before they reached Kovylsk, but the night could +not be dark on such a snowy plain, and under such brilliant stars. They +parted as soon as they reached the town, Sergius going to a cousin who +was living there, whilst Michael went to ask help and shelter from +Markovin.</p> + +<p>The timorous old man looked scared when he saw the boy, the notorious +Alexis Ivanoff's son. But he could not find it in his heart to send +him away. He felt a superstitious pleasure in the fact that he had +never turned a Stundist away from his door, however terrified he was +at harbouring them. The fresh outbreak of persecution redoubled his +dread, though he had no reason to suppose the authorities suspected him +of heresy. But who knew where a spy might be lurking? He diligently +attended mass in the cathedral, where he had been for some years a +verger; and he crossed himself, and bowed to the icons. When the +brethren reproached him with time-serving, he excused himself by citing +the example of Naaman the Syrian, who said to Elijah, 'Thy servant will +henceforth offer neither burnt offering nor sacrifice to other gods, +but unto the Lord. In this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, when my +master goeth into the house of Rimmon to worship there, and he leaneth +on my hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rimmon . . . the Lord +pardon thy servant in this thing.' This history was a great comfort and +support to Markovin, and he was generally known among the Stundists by +the name of Naaman.</p> + +<p>Markovin led Michael into an inner room, where no one could hear or +see them, and almost in a whisper told him all he knew about the +prisoners. They had been brought several times before a committee of +investigation, of which Father Paissy was the chairman, held in the +consistory. Every effort had been made to get them to recant; promises +and threats had been showered upon them. But all remained firm and +faithful to their convictions, except perhaps Nicolas Pavilovitch, who +seemed shaken by the rigour of his prison experience, and the promise +of reward if he returned to the Orthodox Church.</p> + +<p>"Why can't they hold their opinions as I do?" asked old Markovin +querulously. "The Scriptures don't say, 'Thou shalt not cross thyself, +Thou shalt not bow to the icons'—"</p> + +<p>"There you're wrong," interrupted Michael hotly; "did you never see the +commandment, 'Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, neither +of things in heaven, nor things on earth, nor things under the earth. +Thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them'? Not bow down to +them, Markovin Petrovitch! Not even bow down to them. And you know they +worship them—pray to them."</p> + +<p>"The icons are painted, not graven," answered Markovin; "besides, there +was Naaman the Syrian—"</p> + +<p>But before he could utter another word, a loud knocking at the outer +door made his old knees tremble and his hands shake as with palsy.</p> + +<p>"Did anybody see you coming in?" he asked in a terrified voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," answered Michael, "but nobody in Kovylsk knows me."</p> + +<p>Markovin threw himself on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Go to the door," he murmured, "and tell them I'm ill in bed. Oh, I am +ill, true enough!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A FRIENDLY JAILER</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MICHAEL, feeling greatly disgusted by Markovin's cowardice, threw +open the door boldly. The visitor, who was carefully wrapped up in a +huge sheepskin coat, was no other than the friendly warder from the +jail—Pafnutitch.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—why!" he stammered. "Who thought of seeing you here?"</p> + +<p>"Then you know me?" said Michael, in equal astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," answered the warder; "it's part of our business to +know folks again. You're the young cock-of-the-walk that crowed so loud +and ready to thrust your head into Kovylsk Jail last spring, to have a +look at my jail-birds. Your father's one of them now. A good man; oh, +as good almost as Loukyan the saint! What do you say to trying a rig +like that?"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" whispered Michael, pointing to the door of Markovin's bedroom. +"Hush! It would kill him with fright. To see my father! Oh, I'm ready! +When will it be?"</p> + +<p>"Now! To-night," answered Pafnutitch. "Oh, what luck I came here +to-night! Our head men are all going to the governor's ball, and we +intend to have a jolly night of it. But you shall see your little +father first; only you must have a bag o' tools, or something—"</p> + +<p>"I have this," said Michael, throwing his well-filled sack over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"That will do," agreed the warder; "and don't you speak if anybody +speaks to you. They'll think you are Mitiushka, my sister's son by her +first husband, but he was flogged once for talking to a Stundist, and +now he won't answer anybody he doesn't know very well. His mother, +Matriona, had two husbands—but there, I can't tell you all about it +now. I must be at my post in an hour. Tell Markovin Petrovitch you are +going out a little while on business, but don't mention me. Now, then, +Nephew Mitiushka."</p> + +<p>Michael followed Pafnutitch through the streets, his heart beating high +with courage. The wind was piercing, but he did not feel it. The stars +glittered in the narrow strip of sky between the roofs of the houses; +and he fancied they looked down on him like kindly eyes in heaven. Once +again he had the strange sensation of feeling his mother near to him, +walking unseen at his side, and telling him, without words, not to be +afraid.</p> + +<p>When they reached the jail the gatekeeper, who was playing at cards +with a comrade, admitted them, with scarcely a glance at Michael. The +light from the lamp was dull, and the man held a good hand of cards, +which he was eager to play. The small door constructed in the heavy +gates, through which they passed, clanged behind them, and the strong +bolts were shot back into their places. Michael felt already the +depressing and stifling atmosphere of a prison.</p> + +<p>They went through long dark passages, and up two flights of stairs. On +the topmost floor was a corridor, dimly lighted by one oil lamp at the +head of the stairs. On each side were a number of little cells. Another +warder met them half-way down this corridor, and gazed suspiciously at +Michael.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mitiushka," said Pafnutitch. Drawing the other warder aside, +"He's bringing some victual for the heretics," he whispered, "they've +got powerful rich friends in town—friends that pay well; and I said my +nephew, Mitiushka, should bring them some comforts. There's a bottle +of the best vodka ever went down a man's throat—for me, you know; the +poor heretics don't drink vodka. I'm just mad to taste it, and you and +me 'll go and have some. I'll just turn Mitiushka in here," he added, +stopping at the door of Alexis Ivanoff's cell; "you know he's a poor +softy and won't, talk to anybody. I'll lock the door on him; and we'll +see what the vodka is like."</p> + +<p>He pushed Michael into the cell, and turned the key loudly in the lock. +There was not a gleam of light, except that just under the ceiling +a little square of sky, with two or three stars in it, was visible. +Michael heard his father's voice in the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It's me, father," he cried; "Michael!"</p> + +<p>Groping till they felt one another in the narrow cell, the father +and son stood for a few minutes clasped in one another's arms. Never +had Michael felt a rapture so pure and overwhelming. For the moment +he forgot they were in a prison. They were together again—he and his +father. But very soon both of them remembered how precious time was. +They sat down side by side on the wooden plank, which served for seat +and bed, and Michael told briefly how it happened he was there. There +was so much to say, and so short a time to say it in. Alexis gave +Michael some news of the prisoners to take home, and messages to carry +to sundry friends in Kovylsk, who were stretching to the utmost their +influence on behalf of the imprisoned Stundists.</p> + +<p>"For me," he said calmly, "it must be either Siberia or the Caucasus +sooner or later. If it is sooner, before you are fifteen, you may get +permission to go with me as my child. Tatiania and Sergius and Marfa +will go with Khariton Kondraty. But we must leave Velia and little +Clava behind us. They will never give back to us the little ones they +have robbed us of."</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril cares for them as if they were his own," said Michael.</p> + +<p>"Ah! That is my only comfort," Alexis went on. "But oh, my boy, they +will be brought up in the practices we denounce, and for which we are +suffering even unto death! But we must leave them in God's hands, He +loves them more than we can. If they keep us in prison for years, as +some of our brethren have been, you and Sergius will be too old to go +with us—"</p> + +<p>"We will follow you wherever you go," interrupted Michael, "if we have +to walk every step of the way. Paraska is saving up every kopek she can +get to join her husband in Irkutsk. If a woman can do it, we can. If it +was all round the world, we would follow you."</p> + +<p>He threw his arms round his father's neck, and laid his head on his +shoulder. Oh, if he could but remain with him now, and share his prison +cell! By this time his eyes had grown used to the darkness, and he +could see the dim outline of his father's face. He told him how he had +fancied his mother was walking at his side as he came to the jail.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Alexis. "Surely she loves us better than she did while +she was here."</p> + +<p>"But will not this make her miserable?" asked Michael.</p> + +<p>"Not more miserable than our Lord," he answered; "what He can bear +to see, she can bear. They know the end. Your mother has joined the +cloud of witnesses which compasses us about; and though they see our +afflictions, they also see the far more exceeding and eternal weight of +glory laid up for us if we fight a good fight. It is even here a glory +and a joy to suffer for Christ's sake."</p> + +<p>Alexis spoke in a tone of sober gladness. But before he could say more, +they heard the voice of Pafnutitch speaking loudly in the corridor.</p> + +<p>"I'd clean forgotten the lad," he said; "he'll be scared out of his +poor wits at being shut up in the dark with a cursed heretic. Come +out, my poor boy, come out! Good sakes! This key wants oiling, I can +scarcely turn it."</p> + +<p>He fumbled at the lock for some seconds, giving Michael and his father +time for a last embrace and farewell. Michael was breathing hard with +stifled sobs as he stumbled out of the cell.</p> + +<p>"Poor lad! Poor lad!" exclaimed Pafnutitch, catching him by the arm, +and hurrying down the corridor, "Scared almost to death! Ay, scared to +death! And he was always something of a softy. I'll put him out into +the street, and be back in a jiffy."</p> + +<p>His fellow-warder winked slowly behind his back, and wondered what +heavy bribe Pafnutitch had received. If possible, he would make +him share it. The vodka had been very good, but that was not what +had made Pafnutitch run such a risk as this. Should he report the +little incident to the governor? No. They were good friends; besides, +Pafnutitch knew too much of what he had done himself. It was best to +keep a still tongue in his head.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>DENYING THE FAITH</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FOR the next two days, Michael was busy delivering messages his father +had sent by him to the brethren living in Kovylsk. He told no one how +he had received these messages, for fear of betraying the warder, and +thus closing the channel of communication between the prisoners and +their friends outside. He could not help suspecting that someone made +it worth while to Pafnutitch, though it was against the tenets and the +customs of the Stundists to give bribes. Pafnutitch himself declared he +ran the risks solely for love.</p> + +<p>Now and then Michael met Sergius in the streets, but the boys took no +notice of one another, thinking it safer not to appear acquainted. +They imagined they saw a spy in every man and woman who happened to be +walking in the same direction; and Markovin deepened this impression +by his gloomy forebodings. He had no suspicion that Michael had been +smuggled into the prison. The mere thought would have killed him. He +was exceedingly glad when Michael bade him farewell, though he had +shown him every kindness in his power. The old man kissed the boy on +the forehead, with a profound sigh, and prayed that God's blessing +might rest upon them both, "Me as well as him, O Lord!" he said in a +trembling voice.</p> + +<p>Michael and Sergius had much to say to one another as they drove +homewards. Sergius had less to tell, for though he had been pitied and +sympathised with as the son of Khariton Kondraty, who had been so long +in prison for his faith, his father was not a well-known and beloved +presbyter, as Alexis Ivanoff was. His arrest had been a blow to a score +or more of little Stundist churches. Then there was Michael's adventure +in the jail, and his stolen interview with his father, a secret which +he confided to Sergius under a solemn vow of inviolable secrecy. There +must not be a hint or a whisper of such an event, for fear of getting +Pafnutitch into disgrace or danger, if he was found out.</p> + +<p>They left their old sledge among the reeds growing along the margin of +the river, and led their tired horse at nightfall by a narrow by-path +to Ostron. Paraska hailed their arrival with a gladness the boys had +never before seen on her joyless face. The news of their return soon +spread, and before midnight, one woman after another stole in to ask if +there was any news of their husbands, and any hope of their liberation. +The wife of Nicolas Pavilovitch came amongst them, but Michael did not +say a word to her that it was rumoured her husband was about to recant, +and bear witness against the other Stundists. It seemed too shameful +and too treacherous a thing for him to put into words.</p> + +<p>It was not many weeks, however, before Nicolas himself arrived in a +police-sledge. Every man and woman in Knishi ran into the frost-bound +street to watch its progress. The sledge was driven straight to Father +Cyril's house. Nicolas had been ordered to make his submission to +his parish priest. When he entered the house under the eye of the +policeman, he bowed profoundly to the icon, and with a tremulous voice +asked for the priest's blessing, and humbly kissed his hand.</p> + +<p>"Nicolas Pavilovitch, you desire to come back to the Orthodox Church?" +said Father Cyril, after reading the order from the consistory.</p> + +<p>"I do," answered Nicolas.</p> + +<p>"Is this from conviction before God?" he asked. "Or from fear of man?"</p> + +<p>Father Cyril's voice was stern, and his gaze penetrating. The +miserable-looking man only bowed his head, he could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>"You will have your children restored to you," continued Father Cyril; +"and I am to see that they are carefully brought up in the sacred +rites and doctrines of our holy religion. I am also to report to +the consistory how frequently you and your wife come to mass and to +confession. Go home now. To-morrow I will come and bless your house."</p> + +<p>The driver of the sledge had already spread the news. And when Nicolas +left the church-house he found he had to pass through groups of +unsympathetic neighbours, most of whom jeered at him or hailed him with +mock applause. Pale and haggard, enfeebled by long confinement and +prison fare, he could not hurry homewards out of their way, but crawled +along with bowed-down head and eyes almost blinded with tears. Was it +for this he had belied his conscience and turned renegade and traitor? +The veriest drunkard did not believe in his conversion. What were those +words repeated again and again in his brain? "Seeing he has crucified +to himself 'the Son of God afresh, and put Him to an open shame.'" Oh, +terrible words!</p> + +<p>His house was the peasant's hut next to Khariton Kondraty's, and +Sergius, seeing his arrival, rushed in, after giving him a few minutes +to greet his wife and children, to ask how it was he had been released. +Surely his father would be set free too, and perhaps Alexis himself, +though as presbyter he was least likely to escape exile.</p> + +<p>Nicolas had thrown himself breathless and exhausted on the bench +beside the stove, and his wife was standing before him speechless and +bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Is my father coming?" cried Sergius. "Are the others let off? Oh, +Nicolas Pavilovitch, tell me quickly!"</p> + +<p>"They could all come home if they'd do as I've done," answered Nicolas +in a muffled voice.</p> + +<p>"He has denied the faith," sobbed his wife. "He was a miserable +drunkard before he joined the brethren, and now he is a lost soul."</p> + +<p>"But you'll do as I do," said Nicolas.</p> + +<p>"Never!" she cried. "Never! I'll throw myself into the river first!"</p> + +<p>Sergius stole away quickly and silently. If that was the price to pay +for liberty, he knew well his father would not give it. No, not to gain +the whole world.</p> + +<p>The recantation of Nicolas was a great shock to the little community of +Stundists in Knishi, consisting now only of a few desolate women and +their children. Father Cyril ordered the children of Nicolas to be sent +home, notwithstanding his wife's persistent refusal to join her husband +in abjuring her faith. The three little ones, all under ten years of +age, were very dear to her, and to hold them again in her arms, or to +work from dawn to dark for them, was a great consolation, but nothing +would induce her to go to mass with them and their father. When she +heard that her husband had given evidence, mostly false, against +his fellow-prisoners, she refused to quit the house, or to hold any +intercourse with her old friends and neighbours. Her tribulation was +greater than that of the other women.</p> + +<p>The winter wore slowly away; and the women's hearts grew heavier as +they heard nothing of the liberation of their husbands. They were +wanted sorely at home. As soon as the thaw came, the numerous labours +on a farm, so necessary in the spring, must be done. They had patiently +borne many hardships through the winter, but if their breadwinners did +not come home soon, starvation would stare them in the face. Okhrim, +the Starosta, exacted the taxes as if the men were at their usual work; +and already some of the stock had been sold at low prices to meet his +demands.</p> + +<p>The snow melted away, and the fine blades of corn sown in the autumn +began to push upwards through the rich, moist soil. Michael and Serge +toiled from the first streak of dawn to the last gleam of light in the +western sky, scarcely snatching time enough for food. But what could +two boys do unaided? Besides, there were houses where there was not one +child big enough for heavy work; and the women could not do it all. +Even if they had possessed the means to hire labourers, they could not +have done so; for it had been made illegal for a Stundist to have an +Orthodox servant in any capacity.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>LITTLE CLAVA</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE short spring-tide was almost spent when news came. The men were +all sentenced to exile in Eastern Siberia for various periods; Alexis, +whose term was the longest, for ten years. As usual, the wives who +chose to go into exile with their husbands might do so, and take their +children. Not one of the women, warned by Paraska's experience, chose +to remain behind. There were only a few days for disposing of all +their possessions, and they were forced to sell their goods for what +their neighbours would give. Yarina, the richest woman in Knishi, +bought a good deal of the stock; and it was noticed that the sellers +looked satisfied and grateful, whilst Okhrim went about swearing at his +daughter-in-law. Father Cyril seemed much pleased, and very friendly +with her.</p> + +<p>"You are not fifteen yet?" Father Cyril inquired of Michael.</p> + +<p>The boy was so manly in his bearing and so well-grown it was difficult +to believe him still under the age at which he could be entered in the +convoy-list as a child.</p> + +<p>"I shall be fifteen next Michaelmas," he replied.</p> + +<p>"A good thing!" said Father Cyril. "But you will have to go as a child, +my boy."</p> + +<p>"I'd go as a baby," he answered, laughing, "rather than not go with +my father. But there is Velia," he said, his face growing grave and +anxious.</p> + +<p>"She cannot go," said Father Cyril; "the children already separated +from their parents are not to be restored to them. And it is best! +Think of such a journey, month after month, through the bitter winter +and the scorching summer, for little children. My heart aches whenever +I think of it."</p> + +<p>"But our poor little Velia!" exclaimed Michael, suddenly realising what +his departure would be to her. How would the tender-hearted little soul +bear the separation? He recollected her cry, "Never go away again, +brother! Never leave little Velia again!"</p> + +<p>"Michael," said Father Cyril, "trust me. Velia and little Clava shall +be as my own children. They must observe the rites of our Church, but +I will teach them the truths that lie underneath the symbols. Do not +be afraid. They shall not cross themselves except when they do so in +remembrance of our crucified Lord. They shall not pray to the icons, +but to the saints whom the icons recall to our minds. I will take care +no superstition is mixed up with their religion."</p> + +<p>"But we pray straight to God," objected Michael, "neither to the icons +nor the saints. Our Lord said, 'When ye pray, say, Our Father which art +in heaven.' He did not speak of saints."</p> + +<p>"They shall say the Lord's Prayer night and morning," answered Father +Cyril gently; "my boy, you have no voice in this matter. Only trust in +me. As far as mortal man can guide them into truth, I will do so. Trust +Velia to God also. He loves her more than you can."</p> + +<p>Tatiania, like the other women, had sold her few possessions, and made +all the necessary preparations for joining her husband at Kovylsk with +her children. But when she heard that little Clava would not be given +back to her, she declared she would not stir without her. There were +other almost broken-hearted mothers, who were leaving their little ones +behind in far less happy circumstances than little Clava. But their +remonstrances and entreaties were in vain. Tatiania sat down in her +empty house, and refused to listen to anyone.</p> + +<p>"She is going mad," said Sergius to Michael.</p> + +<p>Michael, like the rest, had sold the cattle and sheep, and the store +of grain left from last year's harvest, for a small sum indeed. But he +was rich in comparison with the others, though he had given half the +money to Paraska, who must now leave Knishi. She would be homeless and +friendless, hardly able to earn a living, as no Stundist could be taken +as a servant into an Orthodox family.</p> + +<p>"Your mother is going mad!" she said to Sergius. "Tell her to think of +me! I had the chance of going with Demyan, and I gave it up to stay +with my children. They were torn away from me, my two little boys, and +I never set eyes on them again, and never knew what became of them. +That's enough to make a mother mad! But she knows good Father Cyril has +adopted little Clava. I'll go and reason with her," she added, running +off to Tatiania's house.</p> + +<p>The poor mother was sitting on the side of the bed which was no longer +her own, rocking herself to and fro.</p> + +<p>"They were all born here," she cried; "and two of them died here before +my little Clava was born. She is the dearest of them all! I'd rather +see her lying dead here than leave her behind, and never know what was +happening to her. She'd fret so after her mother if she didn't see me +at mass in the church. No, I cannot go! I will not go without her."</p> + +<p>"But you have sold all your goods," urged Paraska; "you have nothing +left but a few roubles. After to-morrow, you'll not have even this roof +over your head. Think of your husband! If you won't go, of course Serge +and Marfa cannot go. Because it is you who choose whether you'll go or +stay. They only count as children. You'll all be beggars together."</p> + +<p>"Serge and Marfa are big and strong; they can work," said Tatiania.</p> + +<p>"And who can they work for?" asked Paraska. "They mustn't work for the +Orthodox folks, and there 'll not be a Stundist left in all Knishi. +There's Vania has to leave three children."</p> + +<p>"I'll never leave little Clava," interrupted Tatiania.</p> + +<p>Paraska went back to Ostron, where Sergius was awaiting her return. +Oh, how mournful the old familiar place looked, now the barns and +the stables were empty! There was only the old mare left; and the +telega, already holding her luggage and the small bundle of clothes +which Michael was taking for his long journey to Siberia. There was +no pleasant cackle of poultry in the deserted fold-yard, no bleating +of young lambs and calves, as was usual at this time of the year. +The broken-hearted woman all at once realised how peaceful had been +her days of sorrow, protected and comforted by Alexis and Catherine +Ivanoff. She was losing a second home and a second family.</p> + +<p>"Paraska!" shouted Michael, as she lingered at the gate.</p> + +<p>She hastened on to the desolate house, already stripped of furniture, +and the two boys asked her eagerly what Tatiania said.</p> + +<p>"She will go mad to-night, if she is not mad now this moment," answered +Paraska. "She won't go; and of course nobody can make her. She is not a +prisoner."</p> + +<p>"But what can we do?" cried Sergius.</p> + +<p>It was a cruel dilemma. He and Marfa could not accompany their father +into exile if their mother persisted in her refusal. Now all their +possessions were sold, the small sum realised by the sale would barely +keep them through the summer. Unless they became Orthodox, they could +not maintain themselves by labour; and both of them were old enough to +know and understand the religion for which their father had suffered +a long imprisonment, and was about to encounter exile. They could +not renounce their faith, though the most miserable poverty, if not +starvation, awaited them in the near future.</p> + +<p>But the inmost heart of their distress was the thought of their father +going alone, forsaken by his own wife and children, to his distant +place of exile. He had never beaten them, as most other fathers did, +had never even spoken an unkind word to them. Their mother had been +fretful, and unreasonably angry at times, especially with Marfa, but +their father never.</p> + +<p>Then they would lose Michael; and what would Knishi be without him? He +would go with his father, march by his side, share his lot all through +the long journey by rail and river and on foot, till they reached their +place of exile; and there he would make a new home in that far-off +country. Sergius had looked forward to this fresh experience with +profound interest. He had only once been out of Knishi, and that was +when Michael and he had driven in the sledge to Kovylsk. He was longing +to travel. He did not care how or where, but a passion for roving had +taken possession of him.</p> + +<p>"Let us go and tell Father Cyril," said Michael.</p> + +<p>Never had Father Cyril been so unhappy as since the order had come to +Knishi for a clean sweeping out of heresy from his parish. He could +not bring himself to acquiesce in the stern decree; though rather than +leave the victims of it to the cruel measures of the Starosta Okhrim, +he had carried the tidings to the unfortunate women whose husbands had +been in prison all the winter. Heartrending scenes he had witnessed, +and harrowing petitions he had listened to, but he could do nothing. +Those few days aged him by years.</p> + +<p>"I cannot bear it!" he sometimes cried when he was alone.</p> + +<p>But still he went about, comforting the sorrowful women, and as far as +possible seeing that no very great injustice was done to them. It was +through him that Yarina bought at fair prices many of the cattle. He +had done all he could to soften the severity of the sentence.</p> + +<p>"I will go and see Tatiania," he said to Michael.</p> + +<p>But his persuasions were useless.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me my child?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I cannot," he replied sorrowfully; "it is against the order. But she +shall be as one of my own. My poor woman, you must submit to the will +of God."</p> + +<p>"It's not God's will I should be robbed of my child," she replied; "if +He had been pleased to take her to Himself, I would say, 'Thy will be +done!' They are cruel men who have torn her from my arms; and I'll stay +here and die rather than forsake her."</p> + +<p>"Think of your husband and Marfa and Sergius," said Father Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I love her better than all the world," cried Tatiania +passionately—"better than our Lord Himself. God forgive me!" she added, +frightened at the sound of the words she had uttered.</p> + +<p>Marfa shuddered, and Sergius stood aghast.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril spoke softly, with tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Amen! God forgive you, poor mother!" he said. "She does not know what +she is saying."</p> + +<p>He went homewards, pondering in his heart the strange and terrible +problem of how Christians could persecute their fellow-Christians. How +was it possible they could think they were doing God service? To-morrow +nine homesteads would be left desolate, and the hapless women and +children would start on a journey of which many would never reach the +end. And this was done in the name of the Lord, whom both oppressor and +oppressed worshipped.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_15">CHAPTER XV</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>BLESSING THE HERETICS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AT night Father Cyril could not sleep. The scenes he had recently +passed through haunted his brain, and drove away sleep.</p> + +<p>On the day that was just past, the last day, he had allowed every +mother to see the children she was compelled to leave behind, for the +last time. Tatiania had not come to say good-bye to little Clava; and +to Father Cyril this seemed the saddest thing of all. He dreaded the +day that was coming; for then the women would be carried away from +their native village, probably never to return.</p> + +<p>They were in his parish, his people, though they did not acknowledge +him. Yet he was absolutely powerless to help them. He had gained a few +alleviations for them. He had obtained permission for Michael to join +the convoy at the nearest railway station, which was two days' march +from Kovylsk. But that was all.</p> + +<p>His brain whirled with useless and hopeless thoughts. Hour after hour +he lay awake, praying for the unhappy people who would rather perish in +Siberian wildernesses than forswear themselves. More than the rest, the +fate of Tatiania and her children perplexed him.</p> + +<p>Between two and three hours before the dawn, he heard stealthy +footsteps pass his window. Most of the rooms were on the ground floor; +and the little chamber where Velia and Clava slept opened out of his +own. Very quietly he got up, and looked cautiously through the window. +It was bright moonlight, and, three shadows, one that of a woman, lay +upon the ground. Very soon he heard a stifled cry. The door into the +children's room fitted badly, and there was a chink wide enough for him +to look through. He recognised Michael and Sergius; Michael was bending +over Velia asleep and softly kissing her hair, whilst Sergius was +holding Clava in his arms, and wrapping a sheepskin about her. Father +Cyril understood in an instant what the boys were going to do.</p> + +<p>He stood spellbound; tears smarting under his eyelids. He had never +doubted for a moment that to take children from their parents was a +crime against God. He had hesitated to carry out the order of the +consistory, but to refuse to obey was simply to give over his parish to +the hands of those who would execute the sentence without mercy. What +was he to do now?</p> + +<p>He watched the silent and rapid movements of the boys, and saw them +give the sleeping child into the stretched out arms of the woman whose +shadow he had seen. They were only going to steal Clava away. He knew +the vital importance of this step for Khariton Kondraty's family. If +they remained in Knishi, to-morrow they would be plunged into the +direst distress. The boys were doing the best thing in their power. +Should he hinder them?</p> + +<p>"No!" he said to himself. "God help them!"</p> + +<p>It was Paraska who received little Clava into her arms; for the boys +had not ventured to tell Tatiania of their desperate scheme. Michael +and Paraska were to start at daybreak in the telega for Kovylsk, and +the child could easily be concealed at the bottom of the cart, till +they were far enough away to be no longer afraid of detection. Once in +Kovylsk, Clava could be included in the convoy, as Kondraty's children, +three in number, were entered on the list. They started at the first +streak of dawn, calling at Tatiania's house, that she might see for +herself that little Clava was with them. Michael was so much excited +that he scarcely thought how he was leaving home again, this time +probably for ever.</p> + +<p>Sleep was farther than ever from Father Cyril's eyes, after what he had +seen. He felt almost as if he was a boy again, rejoicing with the boys' +joy over the success of their enterprise. At any rate, the burden of +Kondraty's family would now be taken from him.</p> + +<p>He had never before been in a parish containing heretics. He was known +throughout the diocese as a very estimable and successful parish +priest in country places. And in consequence he had been chosen to +follow Father Vasili, and had been sent to Knishi to wage war with the +Stundists. He came willingly, with high courage and confident hope. But +instead of finding blasphemous, ignorant, and godless people, he met +with devout and simple Christians, better grounded in the Scriptures +than himself, though ready to listen to him with respectful attention. +Now he saw and shrank from the pitiless spirit of persecution. He had +never been face to face with it before. Well might our Lord say to +His disciples, who wished to command fire to come down from heaven +on the Samaritans, "Ye know not what spirit ye are of." Father Cyril +understood now the spirit of persecution, and he quailed before it. +It might turn cowards into hypocrites, but it could not make true men +forswear their consciences.</p> + +<p>When the Matoushka awoke in the morning, Father Cyril was up and +dressed. His eyes looked heavy, and his whole appearance was dejected.</p> + +<p>"Clava is gone to see her mother," he said briefly; "do not speak of +her to anybody, my dear wife. Take Velia and our little ones into the +forest for the day. I do not wish them to see the women and children +setting off."</p> + +<p>"Is Clava going with her mother?" asked the Matoushka, who sympathised +deeply with Tatiania.</p> + +<p>"It is not quite settled yet," he replied.</p> + +<p>The hour for starting was early, and Father Cyril went down to the +barrier. A crowd of villagers surrounded the carts which were taking +away their old friends and neighbours, probably for ever. There were +nine women, the oldest, Matrona Ivanovna, nearly seventy years of age; +and the youngest just over twenty, with her first baby, only two months +old. Thirteen children were with them, either big boys and girls over +ten years or babies under two years of age. All the children between +those ages were left behind in Knishi. Six out of the nine were bereft +of some of their children. One amongst them was bereft of all, and she +sat in the cart, tearless and speechless, with a look of despair on her +face. The others were weeping and lamenting, calling out the names of +their little ones, and beseeching Father Cyril to take care of each of +them. All except Tatiania, who sat still, with closed eyes, yet with +an expression of secret satisfaction struggling against the sorrow of +quitting her native village.</p> + +<p>Marfa gazed about her with bewildered and sombre eyes. All of them had +been born there, and most of them had never been a day's journey from +Knishi. They were passing out of a familiar and beloved world to enter +into one of which they knew nothing. It would have been less strange to +go to the City of God, whose pearly gates and streets of gold they had +often dreamed about.</p> + +<p>In the crowd, watching their departure, there were brothers and sisters +and other relatives who had not abandoned the Orthodox Church. The +young wife who had a baby two months old had a father and mother gazing +their last at her with tear-dimmed eyes. What crime had their child +committed that she should be torn from them, with scarcely a hope she +should ever see them again?</p> + +<p>Yarina was there, her heart aching for the mothers of the two children +whom she had adopted, who were now holding their little ones in a last +passionate embrace.</p> + +<p>"They shall be as my own," she cried, sobbing; "and when I know where +you go, I will write to you about them."</p> + +<p>The last minute was come, and Matrona stood up in the cart where she +was sitting, and looked round her with eyes dimmed with age.</p> + +<p>"I've lived here sixty-five years," she said, "and now I go away; and +I shall never go to the well again, and never hear the church bells +ringing. Tell me, have I done any one of you any harm? Have you aught +against me? Have I ever refused to help when I could help?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Matrona Stepanovna!" sobbed Yarina.</p> + +<p>And a shout of "No!" came from the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Then I bid you farewell comforted," said Matrona; "for this I know, +that wherever they send us, we shall be in the hollow of God's hand, +and no man can pluck us out of our Father's hand."</p> + +<p>"Come, we are all ready to start," said the officer who had come to +convey the women and children to Kovylsk.</p> + +<p>Then Father Cyril stretched out his arms in the attitude of blessing. +The Orthodox people knelt down, and the women in the carts bent their +heads, whilst he said in a tremulous voice—</p> + +<p>"'The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts +and minds through Christ Jesus.' . . . 'The grace of the Lord Jesus +Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be +with you all. Amen.'"</p> + +<p>At last the sorrowful cavalcade set off. The banished women stood up +in the carts, and stretched out their arms towards their lost homes, +the hearths where they had rocked their babies, and the roofs that had +sheltered their happy families. The villagers tried to set up a shout, +but they broke down. Now the heretics were going, old animosities and +jealousies were forgotten. These sorrow-laden women and sad boys and +girls were never to return. As they passed slowly out of sight, a low +wailing came back on the wind, and was echoed by the sobs and moans of +the crowd.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril went home, and passed the long day in solitary meditation +and prayer before the altar in his church. He was greatly distressed +in spirit. These exiled men and women were accepted of God; for did +they not fear, ay, and love Him, and work righteousness? Yet they were +despised and rejected of men, oppressed and afflicted, and acquainted +with grief. They were fellow-Christians, disciples of the same Lord, +and yet they persecuted them in His name, and thought that even when +they hounded them to death, they were doing God service.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>IN KOVYLSK</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>IN the meantime Michael and Paraska, who had set off at daybreak, were +far on their way across the steppe toward Kovylsk. Until they were +quite safe from recognition, Clava lay at the bottom of the telega, her +sweet little face peeping up from time to time and smiling merrily at +them. She was a small, delicate child, and was easily intimidated, for +she had been tenderly guarded from all unkindness and hardship. After a +while, Paraska took her on her lap, kissing her often, with a mother's +yearning after her own lost children. Her deepest sorrow had befallen +her some years ago. She was accustomed to grief.</p> + +<p>But Michael was not yet benumbed by sorrow. He was troubled, sorely +troubled at leaving his home again; and above all at leaving Velia +behind. True, she could not be better off than in Father Cyril's +house; and though he knew but little of the perils and hardships of +the journey which lay before the exiles, he knew enough to make him +thankful that his young sister was not to share them. But should he +ever see her again? They would be separated by thousands of miles; and +he did not know for how many years his father's term of banishment +would run. He never realised as he did now how much he loved her.</p> + +<p>Velia was four years younger than himself; and he could recollect her +as a little child, following him with tottering feet, and stretching +out her tiny arms to him. Would his mother be watching over her, as +he sometimes felt sure she was near to him? Velia had never felt her +presence as he felt it. Yet, if it was only a fancy that his mother +came to him, it was surely true that God cared for both him and Velia. +"Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without your Father! Are you not +much better than the birds?" he murmured to himself.</p> + +<p>He was not afraid for himself. On the contrary, he looked forward +almost with pleasure to the long and exciting, though forced, journey +he was about to take. What were hardships to him? Many men encountered +them for the sake of money; others from a thirst for adventures. He +would be journeying with his father and his friend Sergius, every step +of the terrible wildernesses through which it was said they would have +to pass. He must keep up heart and courage, that his father might +never have the grief of seeing his spirits flag. Whatever happened, +he must show himself brave and patient and cheerful. He was strong, +and hardened to fatigue by the toils of the past winter. Surely if +a delicate little creature like Clava could live through the long +journey, there could not be anything very dreadful for boys like +Sergius and himself.</p> + +<p>But he felt grieved when his thoughts reverted to Father Cyril; and +he began to realise that he might get into trouble as soon as it was +discovered that little Clava had been stolen away. Michael had written +a letter, which he had left on Clava's bed, imploring Father Cyril, for +God's sake, not to have the child pursued and claimed; begging him not +to betray them to Okhrim the Starosta, or to the police who were to +convey the women and children to Kovylsk. If the child was taken away +again, Tatiania would go mad; and nobody could say what severe measures +might be taken against Sergius and himself. Michael felt tolerably sure +Father Cyril would grant his petition, even at the risk of trouble to +himself.</p> + +<p>When they were about half-way across the steppe, Paraska produced a +leather bag out of her pocket, and addressed Michael with tears in her +eyes, which were red and sunken with much weeping.</p> + +<p>"Michael," she said, "going into exile wants all the money you can get. +I've been saving every kopek I could to go some day to my poor husband +Denim. I forsook him for the sake of my little boys. Take the money; +for there are many of you, and only one of me; and I fear I shall never +save enough."</p> + +<p>"But, Paraska," he answered, "I think you can get leave to join your +husband, if you ask the governor. You might have come with us, if you +were willing to give up all hope of finding your children."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't I know?" she cried. "I shall never find my boys! I'll +come after you, if that's true, Michael. You'll see Demyan first; tell +him I'm coming soon."</p> + +<p>They reached Kovylsk some hours before the arrival of the rough carts +bringing the women and children. Michael drove to the house of a +well-to-do tradesmen, Orthodox himself, but kindly disposed towards the +Stundists, as his wife was secretly a member of the persecuted sect. +He undertook to get Clava smuggled into the prison the next morning, +in time to pass out with the other families. Khariton had given her +name with those of Sergius and Marfa, and it was already entered on +the convoy-list; so no question would be raised on that account. He +promised also to look after Paraska, and get permission for her to join +the next exile party; and f that could not be done, to find work for +her. In Kovylsk it was much easier to escape the notice of the priests +than in the villages; although the archbishop and the consistory were +there.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>FATHER CYRIL'S LETTER</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MICHAEL lingered about the prison behind whose walls his father was +confined, until the carts came in carrying his neighbours and their +scanty possessions; for the free exiles were limited in the quantity of +baggage they might take. They were to be lodged for the night in the +city hospital, as the prison was already overcrowded. This would make +it quite easy to restore little Clava to her mother at once; and when +Tatiania cast an anxious glance at him, he nodded back with a smile. +The weary, worn-out women, exhausted with emotion, alighted from the +springless carts, which had jolted heavily and slowly along the muddy, +ill-made roads. Sergius came up to him, and clasped his hands warmly; +and Michael felt a paper pressed into his own. As soon as the party had +entered the hospital, he hurried back to Markovin's house, where he was +to pass the night. He was too much afraid of spies to venture to open +it before. It was a letter from Father Cyril.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "MY SONS, MICHAEL AND SERGIUS,"—it ran—"I saw you last night taking +away little Clava, but my heart forbade me to prevent it. I prayed +to my God and your God, my Father and your Father, to bless you! For +whosoever is to blame, it is not you. You put your parents before the +priests; and this is the law both of nature and of God. Love your +parents: honour, obey, and cherish them. God gave them to you, and you +to them; and no man can break that bond. You are about to face an army +of difficulties and sorrows, but remember! You can never go where God +is not! I give you two verses to think of daily, 'If I go down into +hell, Thou art there,' and, 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of +the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me: Thy rod +and Thy staff, they comfort me.' Death and hell are filled with the +presence of God. Tell your father again, Michael, that Velia shall be +as my own daughter. Kiss little Clava for me—the dear child!<br> +<br> + "I feel myself, though you acknowledge it not, your father in Christ."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Michael kissed this letter. And resting his forehead on the hands that +enfolded it, he thought with love and gratitude of Father Cyril. Oh, if +all Batoushkas had only been like him! Then his father and the Stundist +brethren would never have been driven to leave the Orthodox Church. +The boy did not yet know how deeply rooted were the principles which +separated his people from a State religion. He was, however, keenly +awake to the danger there would be to Father Cyril if such a letter was +found in his handwriting. He set himself to learn it by heart; and when +he was satisfied that he knew and would remember every word of it, he +lit a match, and held the burning paper in his fingers till they were +almost scorched, taking care that no vestige of the writing should +remain.</p> + +<p>Markovin looked on with nods of understanding and approval. "A wise +lad! A prudent lad!" he murmured. "His head is screwed on right. I'd +trust him with a secret."</p> + +<p>The next two days Michael drove alone along the route he and his father +had traversed on his return from Scotland. He was to join the band of +convicts and free exiles at the same station; and in the meanwhile +he was charged by his father with the commission to deliver up the +funds of the churches in his district to the man who had been elected +presbyter in the place of Alexis Ivanoff.</p> + +<p>Michael had besides to carry sundry messages from the Stundists in +Kovylsk to the little congregations dwelling in scattered villages. It +was considered safer to employ a boy than a man; and every precaution +was necessary not to arouse suspicion. He reached the station where he +was to join the convict party about an hour before the train was due; +for the first few stages were to be taken in an ordinary train, though +in special carting.</p> + +<p>Michael lingered about the station-yard, anxiously looking out for the +first indication of the approach oft the prisoners. The stationmaster +was raging about the unpunctuality of the prison-convoy. In a siding +stood a small number of comfortless carriages, little better than +cattle trucks, but with benches and a roof. These were set apart for +the exiles.</p> + +<p>At last a confused sound was heard in the distance, which by and by +came more clearly to the ear as the clanking of chains, the harsh +creaking of cart-wheels, the tramp of horses' hoofs, and the cracking +of whips. It was a sound to which Michael was to grow familiar, but now +it seemed to jar through all his being. Both mind and body were shocked +by it; and to the last day of his march with the prisoners the ominous +discord made him shiver.</p> + +<p>For the last few miles the prisoners had been made to march at a rapid +rate, as the convoy feared to be too late for the train. They were +driven like cattle into the yard, with oaths and blows, almost running, +notwithstanding their heavy leg-chains. They were chained two and +two together, which added greatly to the difficulty of marching, and +even the strongest among them came in breathless and exhausted. Those +prisoners who had been confined for some months in narrow cells were +half fainting.</p> + +<p>There were nearly two hundred convicts, all dressed alike in long grey +overcoats. Their heads were closely shaved on one side, looking bare +and blue; whilst on the other side the hair, grown long in prison, +fell in a tangled mass over the ear. Michael could not for some time +recognise his father, whom he had not seen since last autumn. At last +he saw a gaunt, haggard man, in a filthy shirt, and trousers of coarse +grey linen, limping painfully beside a vicious and brutal-looking +criminal. This man smiled at him with a noble serenity in his eyes, and +with a sharp cry of agony, Michael pushed his way through the jostling +crowd, and flung his arms round his father's neck.</p> + +<p>"Father!" he cried. "Father!"</p> + +<p>But before his father could speak, the convict to whom Alexis was +chained pulled him forward with a jerk and an oath. The waggons set +apart for the exiles were rapidly filling up, and he, an old criminal, +knew they must make haste if they wished to secure a seat for the night.</p> + +<p>Khariton Kondraty was close behind, with his wife and children marching +beside him; all of them worn-out and footsore, for they had walked +twenty miles since morning, and for the last hour they had been almost +running. But there was no time to linger, the waggons were being +crammed with women and children and their bundles, amid calls and cries +and an uproar of voices. Sergius was anxious to prevent his mother and +sisters being separated from himself.</p> + +<p>Michael soon found his hands full in helping his old neighbours from +Knishi, lifting the young children into the different compartments, +and looking after their baggage. Some of the strangers who were +accompanying their convict husbands into exile were willing enough to +lose their children for the night, which was rapidly closing in. The +waggon was so overcrowded that many of the children sat on the floor; +and there was no room for Michael and Sergius except standing against +the doors, which were now locked and guarded by the soldiers of the +convoy-guard.</p> + +<p>Tatiania was in a corner beside the boys, with little Clava on her lap, +and Marfa squeezed closely to her side.</p> + +<p>Before the long dark night was over, Michael thanked God fervently that +Velia was not there. For all night long, as the train sped through +the level plains, there was mingled with the rumbling of the wheels, +and the throbbing of the engine, the wailing of children and the loud +hysterical sobbing of women, rising now and then to despairing shrieks.</p> + +<p>Tatiania, who was always an emotional woman, broke down completely, +and wept till she was quite exhausted. Marfa took little Clava on to +her lap, and sang soothing songs to her. But they could do nothing for +Tatiania, only Sergius looked down on his mother with unutterable pity +for her in his heart.</p> + +<p>But it was not the dark night only, it was the long day that followed, +and succeeding days and nights, night and day. They had some hundreds +of miles to travel before they could reach the nearest station on +the Volga, where they would exchange the convict-train for the +convict-barge. The ceaseless motion of the rumbling train became a +positive torture to the cramped bodies, which had no space for moving. +They escaped the torment of extreme heat or excessive cold, for it +was the pleasant spring-tide, and on every side the sweet wind blew +in upon them, carrying away the foul air, which must have collected +in closed carriages. Twice a day the train was stopped for necessary +refreshment, when they could stretch their stiffened and weary limbs. +But the families could hold no intercourse with the convicts, who were +carefully guarded by the convoy to prevent any attempts at escape.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE FORWARDING PRISON</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AT last they reached the forwarding prison, where they had to await +the arrival of the convict-barge which was to take them up the Volga. +Here the fathers were to join their families, and occupy the family +kamera, or ward set apart for those prisoners whose wives had chosen +to accompany them into exile. Through filthy corridors, the women and +children were conducted to a still more filthy kamera. It was a long +and narrow room, with two windows which would not open. No furniture +was in it, except two parallel wooden platforms, each about twelve feet +wide, raised a few inches in the middle, thus giving to them sloping +sides. This was to be their bed, where the whole party was to lie as +closely packed as possible, with heads touching one another in the +middle, from the opposite slopes. There were no pillows, no mattresses, +no bed-clothing of any kind. Russian peasants are a hardy race, not +accustomed to comforts, but this absolute bareness filled the women +with dismay for themselves and their children. Every limb, every bone, +every muscle was aching from their long journey, and these bare planks +formed their only resting-place. There was not even a bench for them to +sit down upon.</p> + +<p>Michael found Katerina, the young mother, sobbing bitterly over her +baby.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Katerina?" he asked pityingly.</p> + +<p>"Look at it!" she cried, putting the baby in his arms. "I haven't been +able to wash it for five days. And oh, Michael, it's covered with +horrid things, and so am I."</p> + +<p>The tiny creature's skin was blotched and smeared, and its little face +was terribly disfigured. Michael could hardly find voice to comfort +Katerina.</p> + +<p>"It will be better now," he said at last. "One of the convoy men told +me we were sure to stay here five days or a week. We shall have time to +rest. And, Katerina dear, God knows all about it."</p> + +<p>"Does He?" she asked doubtingly.</p> + +<p>But before he could answer the prisoners came in. Michael flew to +his father and flung his arms round his neck, holding him in a close +embrace; for he could not bear yet to look into his dear, disfigured +face. Khariton met his wife and children in speechless delight, too +happy to find even words of endearment. Michael saw Katerina hanging on +her young husband's arm, no longer sobbing. All the Stundists had their +heads half shaved, like the worst criminals. Sergius and Marfa turned +their eyes away from their father's grief-worn face, but Tatiania +kissed the poor dishonoured head tenderly.</p> + +<p>"We're all together, Khariton!" she cried. "Not one of us is missing. +If we all get through to the end, we shall have a home again."</p> + +<p>"If God wills it!" said Khariton, taking little Clava into his arms.</p> + +<p>Marfa ventured to look at her father, and stole to his side, though +she said nothing. They felt happier than they could have imagined it +possible to be a few hours before. The cramped limbs and aching heads +were almost forgotten. They were together again, with no fear of +separation in the future.</p> + +<p>Alexis and Michael sat hand in hand on the foot of the +sleeping-platform, not able to utter more than a few disjointed +sentences. Alexis had been almost utterly cast down by the discovery of +the clean sweep which had been made of the Stundists in Knishi. They +were all here, with the exception of Nicolas the renegade, and the +children who had been taken from their parents to be brought up in the +Orthodox Church. Whether they were all to be sent to the same place of +exile as himself, or scattered hither and thither in Siberia, he did +not know. Just now he was as much worn-out in mind as in body, and he +could hardly think of his fellow-prisoners. He could only think feebly +of God. From time to time, he muttered absently, "'Persecuted, but not +forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.'"</p> + +<p>Michael sat beside him, stiff and weary in body, but with his mind in a +tumult. This going into exile, on étape, was very different from what +he had imagined. It had seemed beforehand a much lighter experience, +mingled indeed with some elements of adventures and pleasures in the +long march. But to be pent up in railway waggons like cattle trucks, +and be conveyed like cattle from place to place, was quite a different +thing. The cries of little children, the wailing of babies, the sobs +and prayers and curses of women during the long journey, had entered +like iron into his very soul. Hunger and thirst, plank beds and bitter +cold, he had been prepared for, but not for the degradation and the +untold misery and the wickedness that surrounded him. His father was +no longer chained to the brutal murderer who had been his comrade on +the march from Kovylsk, for that man's family had abandoned him. But +there were men and boys in the kamera so evil and depraved that they +did not open their lips without uttering words so vile as to appal him. +How could they hinder the girls and children from hearing the common +conversation around them? He thanked God again that Velia was not there.</p> + +<p>There were women there of the lowest class, degraded to the deepest +corruption, not worthy of the name of women. In the corner near +Katerina and Tatiania, a young lady sat on the edge of the nari, gazing +round with terrified eyes. She was a political prisoner, going into +exile as a suspected person. Children of all ages crawled about the +filthy floor. There was still light enough to see them—unwashed, weary +little ones, with matted hair hanging about their begrimed faces. +There had been no chance of washing for any of them; and some of these +children were too much accustomed to such a condition to be consciously +affected by it. But the Stundists were used to cleanliness, and they +suffered from enforced defilement. They felt degraded and injured +by it. Clava's sweet little face was soiled with dust and tears. +Michael shook himself as if in a rage, as he felt the indescribable +offensiveness of the surroundings.</p> + +<p>Was it possible the archbishop could think he was doing God service +by dooming men and women and children to such a state of misery? +Father Cyril said the archbishop was an eminent servant of the Lord +Jesus Christ, and only desired their salvation. It could not be true. +Either he was quite ignorant of what was being done in his name, or +he belonged to the synagogue of Satan—that terrible congregation of +devil-worshippers, the very name of which made him shudder when he read +the words, "'Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which +say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie.'"</p> + +<p>His father was falling into a troubled sleep beside him, and Michael +heard him muttering in an undertone, "'My God! My God!'" It was the +only prayer his weary, worn-out brain could form. Michael bent over him +and kissed his shaven head reverently.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE band of exiles had several days' rest before the convict-barge +which was to carry them up the Volga returned. This gave them all +time to recover from their terrible railway journey. The women washed +and mended the clothes. But there was no decent privacy. In the +family kameras men and boys were confined with women and girls in an +indiscriminate herding together. More than anything else, worse than +the filth and the vermin about them, the modest Stundist women felt +this indecent exposure. But there was no help for it. They did not even +dare to hold themselves altogether aloof from the coarse, wretched +women who were forced upon their companionship.</p> + +<p>Alexis and Khariton urged them to do any little act of kindness in +their power both to women and children. They themselves sought to gain +an influence over the men; they talked to them, wrote letters for them, +and made many efforts to interest them and wile away the tedious hours +of idleness. The days dragged heavily along, and most of the men spent +them in gambling and quarrelling.</p> + +<p>Over the big boys and girls, Michael, Sergius, and Marfa soon exercised +a good influence. Michael especially could interest them by long +stories of his voyage out to Scotland and his twelve months' sojourn +there. He could talk for hours of that foreign country; and the boys +squatted round him in the prison-yard, listening with breathless +attention to his tales of his brave forefathers, the Covenanters, their +hairbreadth escapes and courageous deaths.</p> + +<p>So the days passed by, spent altogether out of doors in an enclosed +yard with high palisadings, which shut out all glimpses of the world +outside, excepting the blue sky overhead. But every night they had to +herd in the unventilated kamera, reeking with foul air, and swarming +with vermin. It was better at night than in the morning, for the open +door had admitted some fresh air. But after the kamera had been closed +an hour or two, the atmosphere was poisonous. This misery would follow +them all along the route to the very end.</p> + +<p>At last the convict-barge arrived, and the men were separated from the +women and children. More convicts joined the band from Kovylsk, and +there was much overcrowding. But this was nothing like as bad as it +would be later in the year, when the bands of exiles would be larger. +There was no yard here to pass the days in. Instead were two big cages +of strong bars, in which the exiles were able to stand upright, though +it was almost impossible to move easily about. In the railway waggons +they had been compelled to sit, and could not stand. Here they were +compelled to stand, and could not sit. But unless they stayed in the +foul atmosphere of the cabins below, which no fresh air could enter, +they must stand all day long, closely packed in these cages, more like +wild beasts than human beings.</p> + +<p>It was early summer. Day after day—the sun shining joyously on the +rejoicing earth; the happy, free peasants pausing at their labour on +the banks of the river to watch the convict-barge go by; the merry +sound of church bells ringing—the laughter of girls at the washing +platforms—the singing of the larks and the calling of the cuckoo +filling the air—day after day, through all this gladness, the terrible +load of untold misery sailed up the Volga. Yet this was only one +amongst many that would follow in their wake until the winter came. But +the day was better far than the night, when they were fastened down +below, and the atmosphere in the cabin grew so heavy and polluted they +could hardly breathe it.</p> + +<p>They left the barge, as they had left the train, with the sense of +relief which any change in misery brings. There was a short journey +by railway again; and then, because there had been a landslip on the +line farther on, it was decided that the convoy should take the old +route along the Great Siberian Road. The exiles left the train with +the idea that the worst lay behind them. For now they would be able to +move freely; they would live in the open air, and at present the early +summer was full of sweetness and beauty.</p> + +<p>The country through which they passed was carpeted with gay flowers, +and the road led through meadows and forests, along valleys, and +over the flanks of mountains. Here and there were village streets +stretching for a mile or two along the sides of the road. Cattle were +browsing on the common pastureland, and corn was shooting up rapidly +under the sunshine, which was growing hotter every day. The cloudless +sky above them, and the sweet fresh air breathing softly about them, +revived the spirits of Michael and Sergius. This was something like +what they had anticipated. Little Clava, too, regained her merry ways +in some measure, as the children were free to run where they chose, +and pick the flowers, provided they kept up with the convoy. Sometimes +the convoy-guards were kindly and indulgent, but when the guards were +changed they proved often to be impatient and even brutal men. But as +the march was a steady one, and about twenty miles a day, there was not +much time for rambling among the flowers, and it was forbidden to lag +behind. There were rough, springless carts for carrying the children +under twelve, as well as the men and women who were too ill to walk. +But little Clava did not ride in the cart. Michael and Sergius said +they would carry her on their backs whenever she was tired, along the +Great Siberian Road. Tatiania was only too glad to keep her darling by +her side.</p> + +<p>But Marfa was suffering in silence more than any of them suspected. She +had spent the winter indoors with her mother, who would not let her out +of her sight, and this confinement had sapped her strength before she +set out on this sorrowful journey. The scenes she had passed through, +of which she had formed even less idea than Michael and Sergius, had +given her a more severe mental shock than they had felt. Everything had +revolted her. But above all, the infamous and abandoned men and women +with whom she had been brought into close contact were insufferably +loathsome to her. She felt herself in a hellish atmosphere, amid a +band of monsters, from whom she could not escape. Her mind as well as +her body was ailing. Though she was not separated from her family, an +indescribable home-sickness took possession of her. She longed with a +hopeless longing to see once more her old home at Knishi.</p> + +<p>Marfa kept her grief, which was gnawing at her heart, to herself. But +the home-sickness grew greater as every day took her farther away from +her birthplace. They had not yet passed the boundary which separates +Russia from Siberia. The exiles were still in their native land. But +presently they reached the frontier. A midday halt was called around a +square stone pillar, about twice the height of a man, on one side of +which lay Russia, and on the other Siberia. It was half-way between the +last Russian étape and the first Siberian one; and the cavalcade, with +its convoy-guard, its chained prisoners, its carts laden with children +and invalids, and its families of free exiles, rested for a short time +at this place of farewell.</p> + +<p>The midday halt was usually a time of relief and comparative enjoyment. +But to-day there was a universal outburst of grief. Even the most +brutal and most stupid of the criminals wept at the thought of quitting +Russia—their fatherland. Scarcely one among them had ever trodden a +foreign soil. Most of the women knelt down, with sobs and prayers. The +Stundists stood bareheaded, looking away from the boundary posts to the +western land, and taking a last submissive gaze at the dear country +they were leaving for conscience' sake. Michael and Sergius, linked arm +in arm, leaned sorrowfully against the pillar. Suddenly a wild shriek +rang through the sobs and groans of the crowd, and looking round they +saw Marfa falling forward against the foot of the pillar, close to the +spot where they were standing.</p> + +<p>She was quite insensible when they lifted her up. As soon as the order +to march forward was given, they carried her to one of the rude carts, +at the bottom of which she lay on a little straw, and Tatiania obtained +permission to go with her. She was not quite conscious when they +reached the étape in the evening. The family kamera was overcrowded as +usual, and all they could do for Marfa was to lay her on the hard, bare +planks of the sleeping-platform. All night did Khariton and Tatiania +watch waking by their delirious child, able to do nothing for her, and +only longing for the return of daylight. Fortunately the nights were +short, and a dim dawn soon shone through the dirty casements of the +étape.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_20">CHAPTER XX</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>SERGIUS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FOR the first time in his life, Sergius began to realise how much his +sister Marfa was to him. She had always been so quiet and reserved, so +passive, that she had seemed almost a cipher in the family. Tatiania, +his mother, with her lively, impulsive temperament, and Clava, with +her coaxing, merry ways, had nearly engrossed his own and his father's +regard. None of them had paid much attention to Marfa, either in their +home in Knishi or during the long journey which already separated them +from it by many hundreds of miles.</p> + +<p>But Marfa was no cipher. She was a thoughtful, pensive girl, with very +limited powers of putting her inmost thoughts into speech. Her mother +was so fluent that she was reduced to silence; there was no need for +her to speak. At home she had often done all the housework diligently +and steadily, whilst her mother visited the neighbours, or read the +Bible sitting close to the warm stove. It was taken for granted that +Marfa liked work better than reading. A strong sense of duty possessed +her, strengthened by a constant study of the little New Testament which +her father had given to her as soon as she could read, and which she +always carried in her pocket. Perhaps more than any other woman or girl +among the exiled Stundists, Marfa understood why they were banished +from their native country.</p> + +<p>What she suffered when she bade farewell to the home of her childhood, +no one knew but herself. Not a murmur had escaped her quiet lips. +Through the wretched railway journey, and the still more trying voyage +for many days in the crowded convict-barge, she had not uttered a +word of complaint. Often she had taken little Clava from her mother's +arms, when Tatiania was moaning and praying alternately, and the girl +of thirteen would nurse the child of seven until her young limbs grew +stiff and ached with pain. The long and bitter winter preceding their +exile, followed by the great strain upon her strength during the +journey, had at length broken down her silent courage and endurance. +The shock of emotion caused by passing the boundary, and witnessing the +uncontrollable distress of the whole band of convicts and exiles, had +been the last blow on her breaking heart.</p> + +<p>The next morning Marfa was laid in one of the telegas which carried +those unable to walk, and the march set out again. There were no seats +in these rough, springless carts, and only a thin sprinkling of hay was +laid in the bottom of each. Three women lay or crouched beside her. In +front of the telegas went a convoy of soldiers, and behind them was +the band of chained convicts, shuffling along in low shoes, with their +heavy leg-fetters weighing upon them, and now and then clanging against +their ankles. Behind the telegas came the baggage-waggons, followed by +the free exiles, and the women and the children over twelve years of +age who were following their husbands and fathers. After these was a +rear-guard of soldiers.</p> + +<p>It was full summer now. The sun beat upon the dried-up road, and the +dust lay inches thick. The long procession numbered hundreds, and at +every footfall the fine, pulverised earth rose in quantities, until +the whole cavalcade was almost hidden in a cloud of yellow dust, +suffocating to all who breathed it, but to those who were ill, this +atmosphere was almost deadly.</p> + +<p>Marfa lay along the bottom of the narrow telega, with her head on the +lap of a convict who was suffering from asthma, and who could only +breathe at all when sitting upright. The woman was gentle and kindly, +but there was no escape from the terrible jolting of the springless +cart, and the dust-laden air which set the asthmatic convict coughing, +and shook her whole body. Marfa looked up into her face pitifully, but +what could she do and say to comfort the poor woman? Fever was burning +in all her veins, and the heat of the sultry sun seemed to scorch every +nerve. She was conscious now, and alive to all the anguish of her +position. But her weary brain was unable to recall some memory which +haunted it.</p> + +<p>"Who was it said, 'I thirst'?" she asked, looking up into the face +leaning over her, in an interval of rest from the racking cough.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, dear," answered the woman; "nobody in particular. We all +say it."</p> + +<p>"Living waters!" murmured Marfa. "Somewhere there are living waters."</p> + +<p>"I wish they were here," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"In the cup of salvation," whispered Marfa to herself.</p> + +<p>The woman shook her head, smiling bitterly.</p> + +<p>When the midday halt was called, Sergius and Michael rushed to the +telega, followed more slowly by Tatiania and little Clava. But Marfa +did not recognise them. She was lying quietly, however, and the +friendly convict was sitting in a cramped position to give her more +room. They bought some tepid water from the peasants who brought +provisions for sale, and she drank a little, but she could eat nothing.</p> + +<p>"What can we do?" cried Tatiania, wringing her hands. Whilst little +Clava climbed into the cart, and crept close to Marfa's side.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing!" replied the convict sadly. "We have days to travel +yet before we reach any hospital. If I were her mother, I'd pray God +night and day to take her to Himself soon, rather than leave her alone +in a prison hospital. Soon! O Mother of God! Soon! This misery is more +than a child can bear."</p> + +<p>The halt came to an end too quickly, and clouds of dust rose again, +hanging over and travelling along with the melancholy procession. +Michael and Sergius fell back to their own places, panting with the +intense heat and suffocating air. But what was their suffering compared +with that of the women and children, especially those who were ill like +Marfa!</p> + +<p>"Michael," said Sergius, "do you know how far we have to march like +this?"</p> + +<p>"More than two thousand miles," answered Michael; "father told me +last night, when I was thinking of Marfa. We are to go at a rate of +about one hundred miles in six days. We can't get to the end before +next February, or perhaps March, if the winter is a bad one and we are +detained on the road."</p> + +<p>"Marfa can never live through that!" exclaimed Sergius.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Michael.</p> + +<p>"Nor little Clava," Sergius continued; "she's too young and too tender! +Oh, Michael! If we'd only left her with Father Cyril!"</p> + +<p>"But you forget," said Michael, "your mother refused to come without +her."</p> + +<p>They walked on in silence for a few minutes; and then Sergius spoke +under his breath, with a faltering voice.</p> + +<p>"Michael," he said, "I feel it would do me good to curse the archbishop +and the consistory."</p> + +<p>"So do I!" exclaimed Michael.</p> + +<p>The two boys halted, gazing into each other's faces, till a sharp cry +of command brought them back to recollection.</p> + +<p>"No, no! It would grieve my father!" said Michael.</p> + +<p>"And mine!" Sergius added.</p> + +<p>Again they marched on silently, each pondering in his own heart the +temptation that had just assailed them.</p> + +<p>"You could not have stayed behind in Knishi," said Michael at last; +"you must have starved, all of you, or given up your religion. Even if +we all die, it will be better than that."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Sergius; "father was reading to us last night, and he +made me learn the verses. I was glad to learn them, for the Apostle +Paul said them about himself: 'Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was +I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in +the deep; in journeyings often, perils of waters, perils of robbers, +perils by my own countrymen, perils by the heathen, perils in the city, +perils in the wilderness, perils among false brethren; in weariness +and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings +often, in cold and nakedness!' We've suffered nothing like that yet, +Michael."</p> + +<p>"No, but we may do, if we live to be as old as he was," said Michael.</p> + +<p>"And oh," continued Sergius, with a sob, "the Apostle Paul hadn't got +his mother and his little sisters with him!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MARFA'S FUNERAL</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>DAY after day passed by. The burning sun beat down upon the exiles, +scorching their skin and almost blinding their eyes. The fettered +convicts could hardly drag their feet along the hot dust; and the women +lagged behind in a straggling line. The convoy-guards grew irritable, +and more brutal than in milder weather. They too suffered, but there +was no despair added to their sufferings. They had only certain stages +to travel, and then they would hand over their charge to a fresh +captain and guard.</p> + +<p>Every third day there was a respite. After two days' march came a day +of rest. Then the sick people were delivered from the choking dust and +rough jolting of the telegas. Marfa could lie during the day out of +doors under the shadow of the prison walls, with all her friends about +her. They listened to her plaintive wanderings in delirium, now and +then catching a gleam of recognition or a word or two of intelligence.</p> + +<p>But the fever was high, and there was no alleviation for it. Anna +Grigorovna, the friendly convict, did her utmost to comfort Tatiania, +and reconcile her to Marfa's death. But she refused all consolation. +Anna had no children, and knew nothing of a mother's heart. If only +she could sit beside her dying girl, she would be satisfied. But +that they all knew it was utterly useless to ask. The telegas were +already overladen, and some of the children were carried on the +baggage-waggons. Tatiania was in fair health, and quite able to walk.</p> + +<p>"Even if I could walk," said Anna, "they would not let me give up my +place to you."</p> + +<p>She was dying slowly of consumption, and knew she must be left behind +in one of the few prison hospitals along the Great Siberian Road. +Though she dreaded the place, she was longing for the rest she would +find there, if the death she prayed for did not overtake her before +they reached it. She longed to die before she was parted from this +strange little band of Stundists, whose company she had sought because +of their quiet and decent ways. What astonished her was that not one +among them murmured at their hard lot—excepting Tatiania, who only +lamented not being able to ride with her dying girl in the telega. For +that Marfa would die there was no shadow of a doubt.</p> + +<p>Khariton prayed in his inmost heart that death would come soon, but +Tatiania could not bring herself even to say, "God's will be done!"</p> + +<p>Two or three children had perished already on the route, from the foul +air and from the utter impossibility of cleanliness. None of them +were Stundists' children; and their mothers had grown apathetic with +despair, and were almost glad to be rid of a charge which became every +day more and more burdensome.</p> + +<p>But Marfa had been an unfailing, untiring help, not a burden. What +should they do without her? To see her lying in the creaking, jolting +telega, with the fierce sun smiting her, was maddening to her mother.</p> + +<p>They came at length to the last stage before they could reach a +hospital. Two days' march would bring them to it, and there they must +leave Marfa and the friendly convict Anna. Every one of the little +band of Stundists dreaded the day when Khariton and Tatiania must bid +farewell for ever to their daughter, and abandon her to a lonely death. +Khariton marched all day with bowed-down head and speechless lips. +Tatiania wept bitter tears. Sergius and Michael walked side by side, +now and then clasping one another's hands, but unable to talk together, +as they usually did. Even little Clava, whom they carried by turns, was +very quiet and languid, as if she understood their sorrow.</p> + +<p>Marfa was carried into the overcrowded kamera, unventilated, and +reeking with foul air, and heated with the sultry sun which had beaten +upon the low roof all day. The convoy captain was a humane man, and +allowed some of the exiles to sleep outside on the ground of the +prison-yard. But within the kameras the men and women could hardly +breathe; and the dying girl lay panting on the plank sleeping-platform. +But even that was comfort compared with the jolting telega. Her mother +lay beside her, and little Clava crept close to her on the other side. +Her father and Alexis, Sergius, and Michael stood near; and in that +corner of the kamera a comparative stillness prevailed; for their +fellow-exiles had learned to respect the Stundists. And one of them was +dying.</p> + +<p>"The end is coming, thank God!" said Anna, turning away and leaving +Marfa alone with her own people.</p> + +<p>She was quite conscious now, but too weak to lift her hand or turn her +head towards her mother, whose sobs filled her dying ear. She could see +them who stood at her feet, and a very peaceful smile came over her +wasted face.</p> + +<p>"Father," she said faintly, "tell mother I'm really going home."</p> + +<p>"I'm here, my darling!" sobbed Tatiania, putting her arm across her.</p> + +<p>"Home you know," she repeated; "not to Knishi—but to be with the Lord. +He says, 'To-day shalt thou be with Me in paradise.' It's better than +living."</p> + +<p>She could hardly gasp out the words, but her voice was clear, and they +heard her distinctly amid all the din and racket of the crowded kamera. +Once more she smiled very peacefully upon them, her eyes resting upon +each one with a look of recognition.</p> + +<p>"You will all come," she murmured; "I shall be looking out for you."</p> + +<p>She closed her tired eyelids, and seemed to fall asleep in her mother's +arms. All night she lay there, breathing softly, but as the first rays +of light dawned, they saw her spirit pass away in peaceful silence. +It was the third day, the day for resting twenty-four hours, and so +they were able to see the body laid decently away in the grave. The +cemetery of the little Siberian village lay near the étape, and all the +free exiles were at liberty to go to it, though none of the men, being +convicts, could attend Marfa's funeral. All the Stundist women and +children went.</p> + +<p>The open plain surrounding the cemetery was bright with flowers, and +the hum of bees filled the air. It was too hot for the birds to sing. +Many of the graves had black crosses at the head, and were fenced +in by gaily-coloured rails. The letters I.H.S. were painted on one +of the arms of the crosses, and on some of them there was a rude +representation in white paint of the Lord crucified.</p> + +<p>As yet, in this far distant and isolated village, with leagues of +uninhabited country surrounding it, there was no inclination to refuse +burial to a Stundist. The old parish priest was willing, so that he +got his dues, to let them bury their dead as they pleased. In the case +of paupers, such as this dead exile must be, it was usual to let the +relatives dig the grave and lay the body in it; and in course of time, +when a sufficient number were interred, the funeral service was read +over all the graves together. Michael and Sergius dug Marfa's grave.</p> + +<p>The women and children stood round the grave in silence, whilst the +boys lowered the rude coffin into it. They were all still alive, those +who had left Knishi, but they were emaciated and broken down, the +shadows of their former selves. Katerina carried her baby in her arms, +but the tiny face that looked up at her was starved and shrivelled, +with dull, solemn eyes, and a tremulous, unsatisfied movement on the +lips that would never learn to speak. Little Clava was thin and wasted, +and every day made her a lighter weight for Michael and Sergius to +carry across Siberia.</p> + +<p>There was no man to pray, but Matrona stood at the head of the grave, +and read, in a voice faltering with old age and pity, these words—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which +are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they?<br> +<br> + "And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are +they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, +and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.<br> +<br> + "Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and +night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell +among them.<br> +<br> + "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the +sun light on them, nor any heat.<br> +<br> + "For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and +shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe +away all tears from their eyes."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>So they buried Marfa thousands of miles away from her beloved home. +She who had never been separated from her own people for a single day, +was to lie in a grave that not one of them could visit and weep over. +To-morrow they would be already miles away from this sacred spot, and +the end of their journey would place still more thousands of miles +between them and the lonely grave.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE PRISON HOSPITAL</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>TWO days later the exiles reached the city prison, larger than the +roadside étapes, which possessed a hospital. Anna Grigorovna had been +looking forward eagerly to the hour when she would be delivered from +the suffocating dust, the burning sun, and the jolting cart, and lie +down in a quiet cot in a hospital ward, which she would never leave +again. She had kept herself aloof from her fellow-convicts, and there +would be no painful last farewells.</p> + +<p>The last evening, when they reached the half-way étape, she sought +the company of the Stundists. It had become the custom, as far as +possible, for the better class of exiles to keep together in the +kameras, avoiding the drunken and more degraded convicts. The Stundist +men alone mingled freely with them, seeking earnestly any opportunity +of lifting them a little out of the deep mire of their debasement. The +band of exiles had been so long together, that they knew one another +as intimately as the inhabitants of the same village. On the whole, +the Stundists, both men and women, were regarded favourably by their +fellow-exiles, to whom they were always ready to render any kindness.</p> + +<p>Anna Grigorovna, who had seldom spoken to anyone, seemed to-night +anxious to talk with the kindly comrades who must leave her for ever +to-morrow. She sat on the edge of the nari, where Tatiania was lying +speechless and tearless, and listened attentively to Alexis as he +explained to her the simple creed of his sect.</p> + +<p>"It is very beautiful," she said, with a sigh; "you believe that in +very truth Jesus Christ, being equal with God, left His throne in +heaven and came down to this earth, becoming a poor working-man, and +dying a shameful death for our sakes. So He sacrificed all for our +salvation."</p> + +<p>"We believe it," said Alexis; and Khariton bowed his head in assent.</p> + +<p>Tatiania lifted up her trembling hand; and Michael and Sergius cried, +"Yes, we believe it!"</p> + +<p>"You believe," she went on, "that He who was crucified Himself knows +all your sorrows and sufferings;—nay! I've heard you say He is here, +seeing all and knowing all."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Alexis; "because He said, 'Lo, I am with you alway, +even unto the end of the world.'"</p> + +<p>"You believe," she continued, "that without any priest, or any form of +prayer, you may ask God Almighty for all you want, as a child asks his +father."</p> + +<p>"We believe it," replied Alexis, "but with this reservation, that what +we ask is in accord with His will. A child may ask for a scorpion or +for a burning coal."</p> + +<p>"Would to God I could believe as you do!" said Anna, with a sob. "Do +you know that I, too, have sacrificed all, and given up my life for the +sake of the people?"</p> + +<p>"We know it," answered Alexis; "and God knows it. Be sure He who made +the greatest sacrifice of all will not overlook it. He is not far from +you, and you are drawing nigh to Him."</p> + +<p>It was the evening of the next day when they reached the prison, where +there was a hospital. It stood in one corner of the high stockade which +enclosed all the prison buildings, a low-roofed kamera, very much like +the rest. There was to be the usual third days' halt here, and the next +morning the prison-yard was thronged with exiles. The men lounged under +the walls, smoking and gambling, whilst the women washed and mended, +or crouched on the ground gossiping. It was intensely hot again, and +all were glad to rest as quietly as possible. Before the day was over, +Michael and Sergius heard their names called in a shrill voice. A woman +was standing at the door of the hospital, and they ran to her.</p> + +<p>"A convict who came in here last night wants to see you," she said, +looking with open admiration at the two sturdy, sunburnt boys; "she +says she is fond of boys, and I don't wonder at it. We don't see many +of your sort here."</p> + +<p>They followed the woman into a filthy corridor, where the floor was +thickly covered with all kinds of sweepings and slops from the wards. +A noisome stench pervaded it, even worse than the foul air of the +kamera to which they were so well used. With the tainted atmosphere of +disease and rotting refuse was mingled the sickening odour of drugs and +liniments. Michael and Sergius could hardly breathe, but they followed +the woman in silence, keeping their lips closely shut.</p> + +<p>But if the air was poisonous in the corridor, it was far worse in +the women's ward. There were a number of low, narrow cots, placed so +close together that there was barely room to pass between each pair of +them, and as the suffering women lay, they breathed and coughed into +each other's faces. But those who lay in the cots were well off, for +the dirty floor was strewn with wretched creatures wherever there was +sufficient space for them. These were packed as closely as the convicts +in the kameras, and could not stir without disturbing their companions +on either side. There was no ventilation except a few holes in the +walls, for the windows would not open, and the cots were ranged against +them. There was a dim light only, for the glass panes were thick with +dust, and had, moreover, a coat of white paint obscuring them. In the +grey gloom, surrounded by pallid and fevered faces, the boys were at a +loss to find Anna, until they heard the racking cough with which they +had grown familiar during Marfa's illness. They stepped carefully among +the crowd of sick folk.</p> + +<p>Anna was stretched on the ground, almost under a cot. A thin straw +palliasse lay below her, but the sheet which had been thrown over +her was ragged and bloodstained. It was impossible for her to raise +herself, even when her throat and chest were most convulsed with +coughing. She was choking now; and Michael knelt beside her, and put +his arm under her head, until the paroxysm had passed away.</p> + +<p>"This is hell!" she gasped, as soon as she could speak.</p> + +<p>"Man makes it, not God!" cried Michael. Father Cyril's letter came +into his mind, and he said in a low voice, "'If I make my bed in hell, +Thou art there!'"</p> + +<p>The dying woman looked up at him with anguish in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, Marfa died before we came here!" exclaimed Sergius, looking +round with horror at the agonised forms and distorted faces of the +women, whose mouths were open, gasping for breath in the suffocating +atmosphere, and whose staring, feverish eyes wandered hopelessly in +search of relief.</p> + +<p>In a corner, on a layer of straw, five children were huddled together. +The eldest was about seven years old, the youngest about five months. +They were tossing to and fro, and wailing with the peculiarly piteous +cry of ailing children. Sergius went to them, and sat down on the floor +with the baby in his arms, after he had soothed the elder children, and +given each of them some tepid water to drink.</p> + +<p>"Their crying maddens me," said Anna; "all night long they were +moaning, and I could do nothing for them, poor little creatures! We +were locked up all night, with no nurse to help any one of us. One of +the women died in the night, and lay there till the morning. Michael, +this is the worst hell of all! I prayed to God to let me die too, but +He did not hear me."</p> + +<p>"He must have heard you," Michael answered, "because He is here."</p> + +<p>"Not here! Not here!" cried Anna.</p> + +<p>"I'm only a boy, and I hardly know how to say it," answered Michael, +"but if I was here, I'd rather think God was here too, knowing all +about me, and all I had to bear, than think that the devil was reigning +here, with nobody stronger than he was, like the Czar."</p> + +<p>"But how can God let it be?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We don't know yet," replied Michael, looking round with appalled eyes, +"but this I do know, I'd rather be here than be one of the people who +send us here. God knows them too! Oh, I wish my father could come and +pray for you!"</p> + +<p>"Do you pray for me," she said; "God will listen to an innocent soul +like yours. Beseech Him to let me die this minute! Beseech Him to send +the angel of death to sweep this place of all its misery. Let us all +die at once, and then something will be done. But we go one by one, and +nobody cares."</p> + +<p>Her voice fell into sobs.</p> + +<p>Michael was still kneeling beside her, and over him hung the yellow, +withered face of an old woman, in the cot above listening eagerly to +what was being said.</p> + +<p>"I dare not ask God that," he answered; "our Lord does not teach us to +pray for things like that. He bade us say, 'Thy kingdom come. Thy will +be done.' I can say our Lord's Prayer for you."</p> + +<p>"Say it," she whispered.</p> + +<p>The boy's clear young voice sounded distinctly through the ward, as he +lifted up his head, and said "'Our Father!'"</p> + +<p>The moans and cries ceased for the time, and pallid faces were turned +to him. Some of the parched lips murmured the familiar words, as +the women recalled the years when they were children, and said this +prayer at their mothers' sides, in the old church at home. For a +very brief space there was a lull in their misery—a moment or two of +forgetfulness. They too, even they, had a Father in heaven.</p> + +<p>Anna lay passive, with tears stealing down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"That is good," she said, when the prayer was ended. "After all, I +shall soon know the great secret. Michael, I have a commission to +charge you with."</p> + +<p>She begged him to let her friends know that she was dead, as soon as +he could, but not to pain them by details of her misery. He repeated +the address she gave to him, and called Sergius to commit it to memory. +Then Anna lifted up her feeble hand and touched his cheek.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me!" she said. "I have a young brother Michael like you at +home. Oh, how he will miss me, and mourn for me! Kiss me, and bid me +good-bye."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MONTH AFTER MONTH</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>A GREAT change came over Tatiania. Instead of being a woman of many +moods, she had now but one—an almost silent but peaceful resignation. +Day after day she paced silently along the hot and dusty road, with +downcast head, and feet that grew ever more languid. She never grumbled +at the heat and weariness, and she greeted Khariton, when he joined +her at the étapes in the evening, with a placid smile. To Sergius and +little Clava she was more tender than ever in their happy days at home. +For now she knew that neither she nor Clava could live through the +march that lay before them. In some roadside jail they must lie down to +die, and she began to long for the time to come.</p> + +<p>With the rest of the Stundist band, the joy of martyrdom was constantly +growing and deepening. A sense of triumph filled their inmost souls. +They had proved to themselves, beyond a doubt, that their love for +Christ and truth was stronger than any other love. A secret peace, +passing all understanding, filled their minds. The hymns they sang +night and morning were full of an enthusiastic gladness. They chose +hymns of praise in preference to any others. Their voices were well +harmonised, and the melody of their hymn tunes attracted their +fellow-exiles. These, especially the women, sometimes joined in the +singing; and it was not often that the convoy-guard interfered with +them. The Stundists gave no trouble; on the contrary, they exercised a +wholesome influence over the whole company.</p> + +<p>Little Clava was gradually losing all her frolicsome and merry ways, +and she became a lighter burden to the boys week after week. They had +never let her travel with the other little ones in a closely packed +telega, where they fought together, and cried and screamed all day long.</p> + +<p>Michael and Sergius were saddened. The long march, which had now +lasted many weeks, was not without its charm for them. They did not +shrink from its hardships. True, they were often hungry and thirsty, +but that was the common lot of poor travellers. They were dirty and in +rags, that was little and inevitable. They marched barefoot, that was +their custom in the summer. They were quite prepared to endure greater +hardships than these. They were passing through strange scenery, which +had great charms for them. Now winding through the gloomy shades of +vast forests; then crossing steppes which seemed boundless; creeping +along the margin of swift rivers, and being rowed across them on rude +ferryboats; climbing up steep mountain-paths, and going down again into +beautiful valleys. They marched from twenty to twenty-five miles a +day; not often more quickly than at the rate of two miles an hour, on +account of the convicts burdened with leg-fetters, the heavy waggons, +and the women walking in the wake of the men. Ten or twelve hours a day +they were out in the open air, with the bright, though burning, blue of +the cloudless sky above them.</p> + +<p>Michael and Sergius, hardy as young bears, enjoyed these long marches. +Besides all this, the enthusiasm of the Stundist band filled their +hearts. The sober triumph of the men rose to rapture in the boys.</p> + +<p>Still, they could not shut their eyes to the grief and misery which +perpetually surrounded them. The faces of the exiles, burnt to +blackness by the sun, wore a look of stolid despair, into which +they had sunk after the first rage and anguish at their position +had subsided. Here was a small batch of human beings, some of them +dangerous criminals, cut off from all association with the outer world +by a living wall of armed soldiers, some of whom were irreclaimable +brutes. As they marched on, their living prison walls moved with them, +uttering stern threats and menacing oaths. Already each one knew all +his comrades, and all that those comrades chose to tell. A profound +and stupefying dulness fell upon them. Day after day they marched on +like men in a dream; the only break in the monotony being the change +of guards at various stages. To-day was like yesterday, and to-morrow +would be as to-day.</p> + +<p>They knew, too, that, isolated and solitary as they were, there was +another band of banished men and women, precisely like themselves, +pacing the same road only a few days in advance; and that behind them, +week after week, hearts as heavy and hard as their own were beating +along the same dolorous way. For scores of years this sad procession +had been passing along the Great Siberian Road. They had left traces of +themselves, messages written on the dirty walls of the étapes, many of +which were undecipherable from age.</p> + +<p>The boys' spirits could not fail to be touched by this apathy of +hopeless wretchedness. They could feel for it, though they did not feel +it themselves. What amazed them was that most of the exiles turned a +deaf ear to all the teaching of the Bible, which filled the Stundists +with divine courage and strength. They could not hear the heavenly +music or see the heavenly light which filled their own souls.</p> + +<p>Yet a certain lethargy fell upon them. They walked for hours side +by side in silence, only now and then glancing sympathetically at +one another, as they took in turns the burden, alas! very light now, +of little Clava, who was growing smaller and weaker every day. She +scarcely ever set her foot to the ground now.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of?" asked Sergius one day, after a long +silence. The jingle of the clanking chains and the creaking of the +cart-wheels had become insupportable to him.</p> + +<p>"I began," answered Michael, "by wishing God would let me bear all +these troubles, and let the rest go free, but a voice in my heart said +to me that could not be, every man must bear his own burden. Then the +thought came to me, that was just what our Lord felt, when He looked +down from heaven, and saw all the misery and all the oppression under +the sun. So He came, and He did bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. +Then the same voice told me He was bearing them now, even in heaven, at +the right hand of God. Surely, if He shares our troubles, we can bear +them. We are following our Captain, and must be like brave soldiers, +fighting manfully under His banner."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sergius, stepping out more energetically; "look at my +father and yours, Michael. Always same, brave and faithful. But my +mother! And little Clava! We can't expect them to feel like soldiers. +They feel the hardships worse than we do. Katerina's baby is dead; and +another baby died last night while were asleep. They have put it there, +in the baggage-waggon. Only the strongest children will reach the end +of the journey."</p> + +<p>"Where will the other children go?" asked Clava, with her languid head +resting on his shoulder. "Where shall I go, Serge?"</p> + +<p>Sergius could not speak, but Michael answered in a cheerful, reassuring +tone—</p> + +<p>"Why, my little darling," he said, "you know they go to heaven, where +there are beautiful gardens, and happy places for little children to +live in. Marfa is there; and the Lord Jesus takes the little ones into +His arms, and wipes away all their tears, and there is no more crying +for ever and ever!"</p> + +<p>"For ever and ever!" repeated the child, with a wan smile. "But, +Michael, do you hear the children crying in the telega? Why doesn't the +Lord Jesus take them all away into His beautiful garden, and keep them +there for ever and ever? Oh, Michael, I wish He would take me!"</p> + +<p>"Do you want to go?" asked Michael.</p> + +<p>"If father and mother and Serge and you could go too," she said +wistfully; "I'd be so alone by myself."</p> + +<p>"But Marfa is there," Michael replied.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Marfa! I forgot," she said, in a tone of content.</p> + +<p>They plodded on in silence after this short conversation, until the +midday halt was called, when Michael carried little Clava to her +mother, and Sergius followed with their bag of coarse food, of which +neither Tatiania nor her child could eat much.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE EXILES' BEGGING SONG</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SO the protracted, monotonous march went on; the only change, a change +of guards. Some of these made the life more wretched than others; +and now and then a captain would compel the whole cavalcade to make +a forced march in quicker time than usual, if business or pleasure +awaited him in the town they were approaching. Of the towns the exiles +saw nothing, but in the villages on their route they were allowed to +beg from the inhabitants; for the allowance of money made to each +person by the Government was a pitiful pittance, quite too little to +sustain life on the merest necessities.</p> + +<p>As they drew near to a village, the chained prisoners let their fetters +clink and jingle as loudly as possible, to call attention to their +passing by. The shrill ring formed an accompaniment to the convicts' +begging song, which each man sang, not in unison, but in an almost +tuneless chant, which, however, had a heart-shaking modulation of its +own.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"Have pity on us, O our fathers!<br> + Don't forgot the unwilling travellers,<br> + Don't forgot the long-imprisoned.<br> + Feed us, O our father!—Help us!<br> + <br> +"Feed and help the poor and needy!<br> + Have compassion, O our fathers!<br> + Have compassion, O our mothers!<br> + For the sake of Christ, have mercy<br> + On the prisoners—the shut-up ones!<br> + Behind walls of stone and gratings,<br> + Behind oaken doors and padlocks,<br> + Behind bars and locks of iron,<br> + We are held in close confinement.<br> + We have parted from our fathers,<br> + From our mothers;<br> + We from all our kin have parted,<br> + We are prisoners;<br> + Pity us, O our fathers!"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>This mournful chant rang on far in advance, and the pitiful notes +brought many a peasant to the door, with half a loaf of bread or a few +handfuls of meal. The Stundists were usually deputed to beg, as they +could be trusted not to secrete any alms that might take the shape +of money or tobacco. Alexis, with his grave and noble face, and old +Matrona, whose bowed shoulders and wrinkled features appealed strongly +for pity, were the most successful suppliants. The placid and grateful +old woman often moved the peasant women to tears.</p> + +<p>"You're too old to go on étape, mother," they said.</p> + +<p>"I go with my only son," she would answer.</p> + +<p>"God pity you both!" exclaimed the peasants.</p> + +<p>"He pities us, and loves us too," said Matrona, with her peaceful smile.</p> + +<p>When the midday halt was called, the food collected by the way was +divided among them all. A rough sense of fairness and comradeship +prevailed among this band of murderers, robbers, and criminals of +various kinds and degrees; besides the political prisoners and +persecuted Stundists. They slept under the same roof, and traversed +side by side the same road; their lives were absolutely similar, as far +as the Government could make them.</p> + +<p>The autumn came, and with the rain the dust disappeared. For a short +interval the long-drawn-out pilgrimage was more endurable. The weather +was still warm, and the sunshine was soft and genial. The leaves +were still upon the trees. The vast, unfenced cornfields were bare. +Innumerable flocks of birds fluttered over the stubble, feeding on the +grain which had been too ripe to carry. In the villages the gifts were +more bountiful with the abundance of the harvest. Flowers lingered in +dells and hollows, where the frosty night-breeze passed above them. +The convict band felt this cheering change. There was a less languid +stepping out, and they were better fed. The children began to laugh and +play again; and even the women looked less wretched and exhausted.</p> + +<p>But the autumnal rains grew heavy and persistent, and still the endless +journey continued. The shoes provided for the convicts had fallen to +pieces a week or two after they started; and they had tramped barefoot +through the hot dust. One shirt of coarse linen was given to them once +in six months; these were in rags. Their coats and trousers were also +of grey linen, and were equally tattered. The voluntary exiles were +scarcely better off, though they wore their own clothes. But each was +allowed only a small bag for carrying all the possessions they wished +to take with them into exile. Many of them had sold what they could +spare for food. Under the pitiless rain, drenched to the skin, they +travelled on, the chilly breeze benumbing their ill-fed and emaciated +bodies, and the mud, half-frozen, oozing through their worn-out shoes.</p> + +<p>Nor was there much relief when they gained the shelter of an étape, for +they could not dry their saturated rags, nor had they any change of +clothing. They must sleep as they were on the wooden platform, in their +drenched and dirty garments; the natural warmth of so many closely +packed human beings producing a malarious steam, added to the already +foul air. Shivering with cold, yet seething in a reeking atmosphere, +the miserable creatures could not rest in sleep.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>THE PROCESSION CRAWLED ACROSS THE SNOWCLAD PLAINS.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Presently the rain changed to snow; the first snowstorm of the winter +coming swiftly down upon them from the north. They were weather-bound +for a few days, so blinding and baffling were the thickly-falling +flakes. Then hunger set in; such hunger and starvation as had never +yet befallen them, for no provisions were laid up for the exiles, and +the peasants from whom they bought their food could no more go to them +than they could march along the road. The convoy captain allowed them +a scanty share of the soldiers' rations, just sufficient to keep them +alive, but he could do no more for them. Without food or fire, in +clothes that dried upon their bodies, huddled together, they passed the +miserable days and nights.</p> + +<p>At last the snowstorm ceased, and a sharp frost set in. A number of +peasants came with rough sledges, judging rightly that all the women +and children, and some of the convicts, would be unable to walk the +next stage. The winter had come upon them so early and so unexpectedly +that even the guards were not prepared. The convicts were in the rags +of their summer clothing, and barefoot, but at the next forwarding +prison winter garments would be given out.</p> + +<p>But to the half-famished men and women the next few days were bitter, +under the gloomy sky, with an icy wind whistling around them. In dead +silence, except for the jingling of their chains, the procession +crawled slowly and weariedly across the snowclad plains. The prisoners +kept closely together, to avoid being frozen to death, but not a word +did one man say to his fellow. In the telegas, and the sledges also, +the women were speechless, in a half stupor; and only now and then the +children uttered a cry at the death-like apathy of those around them.</p> + +<p>Michael and Sergius kept as near as they could to the telega where +Tatiania was crouching, with little Clava on her lap. But they too were +appalled at this universal stupefaction, and could not speak of it to +one another.</p> + +<p>They reached at last the forwarding prison, where winter stores were +kept. They were to rest there for a few days to recover strength, for +several of the older convicts had broken down on the way. It was a +great relief to them all. Tatiania, who had seemed near unto death, +revived a little.</p> + +<p>"Khariton," she said one night, as she lay beside him on the nari, "you +know that little Clava and I are going to leave you soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear wife," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And you will not pray to our Lord to keep us back?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, with a sharp pain at his heart.</p> + +<p>"It's time for me to give up what Alexis trusted me with," she +whispered in his ear. "I've kept it safe; nobody has suspected. But if +I die on the road, they'll find it, and you'll lose most of it—perhaps +all."</p> + +<p>"But who will take care of it for us?" he asked. "Matron is too old; +who could expect her to live to the end? We have still many weeks to +travel, and all the women are failing."</p> + +<p>"Let the boys take charge of it," she continued, still whispering, +"fifty roubles to Michael, and fifty to Sergius. They are both as wise +and prudent as men. Oh, they've been a great comfort to us, good boys! +There 'll not be too much to divide among you when you reach Irkutsk; +only there you'll soon get work."</p> + +<p>"I will ask Alexis to-morrow," said Khariton.</p> + +<p>"Then my mind will be quite easy," she murmured; "I should have died +to-day, only I prayed the Lord to spare me until I could give up my +trust. Now I shall have nothing to think of but how blessed we shall be +when we are all together again, with the Lord. We were very happy in +Knishi, husband!"</p> + +<p>"We were," he replied with a sob.</p> + +<p>"We might have been happy in Irkutsk," she went on, "but I'm worn-out, +body and mind. I long to get away out of this world. You'll let Clava +and me go?"</p> + +<p>"God's will be done!" he said.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>SLEEP AND DEATH</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>TO Michael and Sergius it was a solemn charge to be entrusted with the +funds on which the Stundists were to subsist when they reached their +journey's end. To be sure, the convicts would still have the miserable +pittance allowed by the Government, but this would not suffice for the +women and children who accompanied them. Tatiania found an opportunity +the next day to stitch the rouble notes into the boys' coats. It was +a busy day; the baggage-waggons were unloaded, and winter clothes +got out. But they were damp and mildewed, for the rain and snow had +saturated the bags. The convicts receive their winter equipment from +the Government stores, which were at least dry and warm. They set out +again in renewed spirits.</p> + +<p>It was well for the Stundists that Tatiania's precaution had been +carried into effect. A day or two after they started, and were crossing +the exposed steppe, over which a searching and freezing north wind was +blowing, Sergius and Michael went as usual at the midday halt to carry +food to Tatiania and Clava, who now never left the telega. The child +was sleeping, and Tatiania was very drowsy.</p> + +<p>"Are you well, mother?" asked Sergius.</p> + +<p>"Quite well, dear boy," she answered. "I've no more pain; and I'm not +tired even. But oh, so sleepy! Tuck the cloak over us, my son."</p> + +<p>Sergius carefully folded the sheepskin cloak over her and Clava, and +bent down to kiss the pallid faces. Both were chilly.</p> + +<p>"The captain says we shall reach Irkutsk before Christmas," he said +cheerily, "if we are not delayed by more storms."</p> + +<p>"That's good news," she answered sleepily; "I'm glad for your father's +sake. Be good like him, my Sergius."</p> + +<p>During the short afternoon a light fall of snow and sleet came on. +Every one of the cavalcade was covered with a fine, crisp powder. The +telegas looked like silvered chariots; and the horses drawing them were +beautifully white. Every blade of grass, and the bare stubble of the +cornfields, was delicately frosted over. It was a white procession, +long-drawn-out, passing through a white landscape. Towards the north +the sky was of a livid darkness; and the captain of the convoy ordered +a quick march.</p> + +<p>"How beautiful it is!" exclaimed Michael.</p> + +<p>"But it's terrible!" said Sergius.</p> + +<p>They reached the half-way étape before the telegas came up, and were +ready to lift down Tatiania and little Clava. They had not stirred +since Sergius tucked the sheepskin round them; nor did they move when +he lifted it off, and called "Mother!"</p> + +<p>They were fast asleep, in a profound and peaceful slumber, little Clava +locked in her mother's arms, never more to wake again to this world's +pain and anguish. No trouble like this could befall them, the boys said +to one another the next day, as they followed the telega which carried +the dead bodies to the nearest cemetery; nothing worse could happen.</p> + +<p>Yet in their inmost hearts there lurked a dream of other losses. +Khariton looked fearfully ill to-day; and Alexis did not seem much +better. Each one of the Stundist band was terribly cast down. Their +wives and children were so exhausted and feeble they could hardly +hope, nay, they could hardly wish, they would live to reach Irkutsk. +Every now and then there were delays, made absolutely necessary from +snowstorms, which made it impossible to continue the march for days +together. Then came the alternative misery of semi-starvation. They +never had enough to eat, but in these weather-bound intervals Famine +laid its skeleton hand upon them. Christmas was past before they +reached Irkutsk.</p> + +<p>This was the end of their calamitous journey. Here Paraska's husband, +Demyan, was already established, and probably awaiting their release +under police regulations. In this place they would probably be allowed +to settle down, thousands of miles from their native village. The +Stundists gathered together, in sad and solemn thanksgiving. Of the +nine women who had elected to go with them into Siberian exile, four +were lying in scattered graves along the route, never to be visited by +those who loved them. Of the fourteen children, only five were left; +Michael and Sergius being two of them.</p> + +<p>Even while the survivors sang their usual evening hymn, "Oh, happy band +of pilgrims!" the tears rolled down their rugged and wasted faces, and +their voices faltered.</p> + +<p>"We praise Thee, O Lord!" said Alexis.</p> + +<p>"We praise Thee!" echoed the others.</p> + +<p>"Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord!" said Alexis.</p> + +<p>"They are blessed!" was the response.</p> + +<p>"Blessed are ye when men persecute you for Christ's sake," he continued.</p> + +<p>"We are blessed," they answered.</p> + +<p>Then Alexis opened his Bible, and read these words—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs +and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and +gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.<br> +<br> + "'I, even I, am He that comforteth you: who art thou, that thou +shouldest be afraid of a man that shall die, . . . and hast feared +continually every day because of the fury of the oppressor, as if he +were ready to destroy? and where is the fury of the oppressor?<br> +<br> + "'The captive exile hasteneth that he may be loosed, and that he should +not die in the pit, nor that his bread should fail. But I am the Lord +thy God, that divided the sea, whose waves roared. The Lord of hosts is +His name.<br> +<br> + "'And I have put My words in thy mouth, and I have covered thee in the +shadow of Mine hand.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Then Alexis turned the leaves to the New Testament, and read again—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through +our Lord Jesus Christ:<br> +<br> + "'By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we +stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.<br> +<br> + "'And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that +tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, +hope;<br> +<br> + "'And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad +in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Over the faces of the women there stole an expression of placid +resignation. The men looked at one another with exultation in their +eyes. What were these light afflictions compared with the glory that +would follow?</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE END OF THE JOURNEY</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THEY expected their release every day. The band of exiles who had +marched together for so many months was broken up, and scattered to +various places of exile, excepting those criminals who were sentenced +to the mines. But the Stundists seemed to be overlooked. Demyan was +aware of their arrival, and sent in messages of welcome. He had already +provided a shelter for them, and obtained promises of work in Irkutsk.</p> + +<p>At last one morning they were summoned to the prison-yard, where a +party was being made up for the Kara Mines. Was it possible that they +were doomed to that place of horrors? The men were again chained to +other prisoners, with leg-fetters; the women and children were placed +in telegas; and once more, over ground frozen many feet deep, and with +the thermometer, even at noonday, several degrees below zero, they set +out on their dreary march, uncertain now what their destination might +be.</p> + +<p>They crossed to the eastern side of Lake Baikal, into a wild and +desolate region, at this time lying under a thick cover of snow. But +the second time they reached an étape, a few days after quitting +Irkutsk, their fellow-prisoners started on without them. The captain of +the convoy, which was now returning to Irkutsk, waited some time for +the arrival of a police officer to take charge of the Stundists, but +growing impatient at his delay, and afraid of the short day leaving him +before he could reach a shelter, he called Alexis to him.</p> + +<p>"You are a trustworthy man," he said, "and I must leave you to report +yourselves at the police station. They will tell you under what +conditions you are to live here. It's not a cheerful spot. Have you any +complaint to make to me?"</p> + +<p>"Not any, sir," answered Alexis respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Then God go with you!" he said.</p> + +<p>"And with you!" replied the exiles.</p> + +<p>They watched the convoy until they were hidden in the frosty fog. Then +they turned towards the village, which lay about half a mile away. At +the barrier a wretched old man came out of a hut which looked like a +huge snow-stack, and challenged them. Alexis explained who they were; +whilst Michael and Sergius tried to decipher the inscription on a +rotten post. They made out, "thirty-four houses, sixty-five males." The +women and children did not count in the population.</p> + +<p>But it was a small place. The houses were log-huts, and were scattered +in two long, straggling lines on each side of the road. They too looked +like edifices built wholly of snow. It was evident that extreme poverty +prevailed. Such of the inhabitants as appeared in the street had a +Mongolian cast of features, and seemed uncouth and savage.</p> + +<p>The Stundists marched to the police station, and gave their names, +and the paper entrusted to them by the convoy captain, to the village +Ispravnik. He was certainly a Mongol. He looked at each one of the +men keenly, as if to make sure of knowing them again; and told them +they must report themselves to him once a week, and whenever he chose +to summon them. The women and children stood outside the station, +shivering in the freezing air.</p> + +<p>"Where are we to go, sir?" asked Alexis.</p> + +<p>"Just where you please," answered the police officer; "you're free to +live where you like in this village, but nowhere else."</p> + +<p>"Are there any houses to let?" Alexis inquired.</p> + +<p>"None that I know of," said the man; "you see, brother, it is a very +little place. There are two or three families in every house already."</p> + +<p>"Can we find lodgings?" asked Alexis again.</p> + +<p>"You can go and try, brother," he answered; "you are free, and the +people are free. They may lodge you if they please."</p> + +<p>Then began a weary search for shelter. At some of the huts the +inmates would not even open the door, for fear of letting in a blast +of freezing wind; they shouted to them through the frosted windows +there was no room for them there. There were no young children in +the homeless band, but the five women and the two girls who had +survived the terrible journey were suffering from the intense cold. +Their spirits, too, were depressed at the sight of the savage and +inhospitable spot to which their husbands had been exiled for several +years. Some of them would have wept but for fear of the tears freezing +on their eyelashes. Khariton Kondraty silently thanked God that his +wife and daughters had been mercifully taken from him.</p> + +<p>At length, after traversing the village from end to end, they returned +to the hut where a withered bush frosted over delicately proclaimed the +village inn. They were quickly admitted, and the door closed behind +them. The atmosphere was almost as foul as that of the kameras they had +slept in, but they had grown used to it, and this roof was at least a +shelter. Here they could rest and warm themselves, and get food to eat.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper was a Jew, and more intelligent than anyone they had yet +seen. But he could not tell them of any hut or barn, or shed even, +where they could find a refuge. Nor could he tell them of any place +where more than one could be lodged. The dwellings were all too full +already. No work could possibly be had until the thaw came, and then +strong labourers might earn a few pence a day on the common lands. No +one wanted any women, he said; there were women enough and to spare.</p> + +<p>At last he bethought himself of a half-ruined hut at the extreme end of +the village, which had been empty for some years, ever since a whole +family had been horribly murdered by some runaway convicts from mines. +The innkeeper gave the details of the crime, with zest; and the women +shuddered as they heard them.</p> + +<p>"Folks here say the spirits of the dead people have never left the +spot," he added; "they'll not go till murderers are punished. But you +can have it for small rent if you dare."</p> + +<p>The men went off, as soon as they had finished their meal, to inspect +the place. It was a fair-sized hut, and the log walls and great stove +were in tolerable repair, but the frozen snow showed white through the +clunks in the roof. There were some out-buildings that also needed +restoring. But little could be done before the thaw came.</p> + +<p>There were thirteen of them; the nine men and the four boys who had +outlived their hardships. They were gaunt, haggard, and emaciated; the +women they had left in the inn were almost skeletons. Yet as they stood +under the ragged roof, they lifted up their hands, and in solemn words +dedicated themselves afresh to the service of their Lord. Here they +would make homes; and here, too, should there be a church where they +could worship God according to their conscience.</p> + +<p>They decided, if possible, to find lodgings for the women; and to live +together in this hut till they could put it in repair. The prospect +lying before them was not cheerful, but the present was better than +the past. They would have to endure hunger and cold and poverty of the +greatest, but they would no longer witness the unutterable wretchedness +and wickedness of the kameras. The misery they had passed through was +stamped indelibly on their memories.</p> + +<p>"There's one good thing," said Michael, "we may write what letters we +like. The Ispravnik cannot read."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of it?" asked Alexis.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Michael; "he held the list of your names upside down, +and pretended to check them off, as if he was reading them. I'll begin +a school as soon as the people know us a little."</p> + +<p>"It is against the law," said his father; "and we are a law-abiding +people."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_27">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>DEMYAN'S TIDINGS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE weeks of winter crept slowly by. But at last the thaw came, and the +hut the men had occupied was deluged with melting snow.</p> + +<p>By this time the new settlers had become favourably known to the +inhabitants, and there was no difficulty in getting temporary lodgings +whilst they repaired the haunted hut. With the coming of the spring, +fresh hope and energy took possession of them. But their funds, however +carefully husbanded, were melting like the snow. They were very near +parting with their last rouble.</p> + +<p>They were busily at work one day, mending the damaged roof, when a +strange peasant came up, and gazed at them for a minute or two in +silence.</p> + +<p>"Khariton!" he cried at last, "Don't you know me?"</p> + +<p>Khariton sprang down the sloping roof and over the low eaves, and +clasped the stranger in his arms.</p> + +<p>"It's Demyan!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>He was a Knishi man who had been banished during the first persecution +some years ago. They all knew him except Alexis and Michael. Until his +banishment they had worked and worshipped together. It was a great joy +to meet again.</p> + +<p>"How vexed I was to hear you'd been sent on from Irkutsk!" he said. +"There was work for you there, ready. But we soon found out where +they'd sent you; and as soon as we could make a little collection, I +just stole a march, and came out to bring it."</p> + +<p>"But if they find you out!" exclaimed Khariton.</p> + +<p>"Well, somebody must run a risk," he said doggedly; "we could not leave +you to perish in this wilderness. You could not get our collection—it's +only thirty roubles——without somebody venturing. But I want news. Tell +me about Paraska."</p> + +<p>"She is hoarding up every kopek to get enough money to join you," said +Alexis.</p> + +<p>"And she never found our little boys?" he said sorrowfully. "Oh, it was +cruel!"</p> + +<p>"They are quite lost sight of; we could find no trace of them," +answered Alexis. "Even Father Cyril—a good man—could hear nothing of +them."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed. "That's the Batoushka Paraska speaks of. I've a +letter from her, with Knishi news. But I must be quick, it's four days' +journey here, and four back. I reported myself last Monday, and I must +not be later than Wednesday or Thursday in showing up again. Oh, here's +Paraska's letter! I was to tell you,—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Father Cyril has been sent away from Knishi, thanks to Father Paissy. +He was not permitted to take Velia with him—'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Who is Velia?" Demyan inquired.</p> + +<p>"Read on!" cried Alexis.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'He was compelled to leave her behind with the widow of Father Vasili; +and folks say she is going to marry again to old Okhrim, the Starosta. +If possible let Michael know at once—'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Who is Michael?" asked Demyan again.</p> + +<p>"He is my son," said Alexis; "and Velia is my little daughter."</p> + +<p>"All the children under ten years of age were taken from us," said +Khariton; "and Velia was adopted by Father Cyril. This is terrible +news!"</p> + +<p>Every man there saw at once the threatening meaning of it. The tender, +delicate child had been put into the hands of a tyrannical and +unscrupulous woman; and possibly into the power of a brutal and cruel +man, who would vent upon her his bigoted hatred of her people. Alexis +fell down on his knees, and groaning, hid his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! My God, save her!" he cried in a tone of anguish.</p> + +<p>The letter had been written nearly four months ago. Thousands of miles +stretched between them and the desolate child. Already she must have +endured a winter of misery. What could be done for her?</p> + +<p>"I must go, father!" exclaimed Michael. "If I have to beg my way, I +must go. And oh, I'll save her, father! Velia, little Velia!" And the +boy's voice rose into a passionate cry, as if he would make her hear +him across all the space that divided them.</p> + +<p>The affair had to be settled speedily, for if Michael went, it was best +that he should go as far as Irkutsk with Demyan, before the roads were +broken up by the thaw.</p> + +<p>"Let him come with me," said Demyan; "we've got friends in Irkutsk. +They'll give him letters to other friends on the way. We'll get a few +more roubles together. And as soon as he catches up the railway, he'll +spin along. He'll get to Knishi before next winter; and the summer is +better. Yarina will befriend her, be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"You must go, my boy," said Alexis, "but you must make your way first +of all to Odessa, and get your kinsman there to help you. At any rate +he will help you with money."</p> + +<p>In a few hours Michael had said farewell to his father, and the whole +band of Stundists. In a short time they would be settled in their new +dwellings, and begin to make decent homes of them. "The winter's woe +was past," and new hopes were springing up. But for this bad news +Michael felt that life even in the Trans-Baikal might be full of +gladness.</p> + +<p>Sergius accompanied Michael as far as possible along the route to +Irkutsk. They had much to say to one another, but for the last mile or +so they were speechless. Knowing they could not meet again for years, +if for ever, they embraced each other silently, and in silence each +went on his way.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_28">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE SEED OF THE CHURCH</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE news in Paraska's letter was true.</p> + +<p>A revulsion of feeling had been brought about by the persecution that +had made a clean sweep of the heretics from Knishi. As the crowd which +collected to be spectators of the departure of the women and children +saw their terrible distress, and heard their cries of lamentation +on being driven from their old homes, a wave of pity and sympathy +spread from heart to heart. They had only a vague idea of what exile +to Siberia really meant; no one had ever returned to Knishi from that +distant bourne, but it had always been the most fearsome threat held +over them from infancy. What had these old neighbours, these brothers +and sisters and cousins, done to deserve such a doom? They had always +shown themselves kind and friendly, and ever ready to help in any time +of trouble. And if they were somewhat conceited and crazy about their +new religion, was that so wicked as to merit the loss of home and +property?</p> + +<p>The women especially began to brood over the question. The Stundist +children under ten years of age, who had been distributed among the +Orthodox families, were more intelligent and obedient than the others. +In school they almost formed a class apart, several of them could read +well, and these had, as usual, little Testaments of their own.</p> + +<p>Copies of the New Testament began to appear as if by magic in the +dwellings. The travelling colporteurs, who carried in their packs +Testaments from the great Bible depot in Odessa, found many customers +in Knishi. There was something attractive in listening to the Gospels +read in one continuous narrative, instead of the detached fragments +they heard in the church services. Here was the whole history. It +was quite true what the Stundists said: there was not a word about +confession, or the priest's dues, or the blessing of the houses and the +fields, or the many feasts, when it was unorthodox to labour. The men +liked to hear of this, but the women loved most to hear how the Lord +Jesus treated the women and children.</p> + +<p>There was a general movement of the slumbering intellect and conscience +of the peasants; and Father Cyril was astonished at some of the shrewd +questions put to him on doctrinal points. His own teaching favoured +the movement. The persecution, shortsighted as all persecution is, was +having its usual results.</p> + +<p>Time after time, and by cautious degrees, Velia fetched the Bibles and +hymn-books hidden in the roof of the hut in the forest, and distributed +them among the Stundist children, who were as truly orphans as if their +parents were really dead. Some of them had been so young when they were +taken away that the remembrance of their parents perished in a few +months. But most of them had been present when the carts carried off +their weeping mothers, and nothing could ever efface the memory of that +scene from their hearts. There was still a root of the Stundist heresy +left in Knishi.</p> + +<p>Yarina, the daughter-in-law of Okhrim, had been most touched and +shocked by the banishment of the inoffensive Stundists. She had +married, some years before, Panass, Okhrim's only son, who had proved +an unkind and neglectful husband. But he was dead, and left her with an +only child, a girl. At Father Cyril's urgent request, she had adopted +two of the Stundist children to bring up with her little daughter. +Secretly she was attaching herself to the Stundist faith, but she did +not dare to avow it, for the sake of her child. Besides, Father Cyril's +character, and the sermons he preached, still attracted her to the +Orthodox Church.</p> + +<p>The mental sufferings of Father Cyril during the persecution were +greater and deeper than words could tell. He believed it to be +mischievous as well as unchristian. The utmost limit of persecution +he could find in Christ's teaching, was, "Let him be unto thee +as a heathen man and a publican." This did not open the door to +imprisonment, flogging, deprivation of civil rights, and exile. For how +did Christ deal with the outcast classes? His own dealings with the +publicans were full of forbearance and sympathy. He had visited them +in their houses, and ate with them publicly. He had not driven away +the heathen woman who besought Him to heal her daughter; or refused to +see the Greeks, who came to Philip, saying, "Sir, we would see Jesus." +Nay, when the disciples wished to call down fire from heaven on the +Samaritans who refused to receive them into their town, He rebuked +them, saying, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the +Son of Man hath not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." +The utmost that could have been permitted by the law of Christ, was to +leave the heretics alone. "Let them be as publicans and heathens."</p> + +<p>Father Cyril could not himself think of the Stundists as heathens. He +mourned over their separation from the Church, and believed they were +mistaken in withdrawing from it. But he could not shut his eyes to +their sobriety and integrity, their loyal submission to every law that +did not go against their conscience, their faith and charity; and, +more than all, their surrender of everything that makes life pleasant +to man for the sake of their religious faith. He could not trust +his own people to show equal devotion to their Church under similar +circumstances.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril and his wife did their best to make Velia happy. The girl +was very affectionate, and responded warmly to the love they displayed. +Father Cyril bestowed upon her more caresses and indulgences than he +might have done if she had gone to him under happier circumstances. The +little Stundist orphans left in his charge in the village gave him more +anxious thought and care than all the rest of his flock. He felt more +responsible to God for their welfare. Could he bring them back into the +safe fold of the Church?</p> + +<p>But Velia was not young enough to be made Orthodox. She was nearly ten +years old when she was forcibly taken away from her own home, and she +had been trained in the Stundist faith from her earliest childhood. +The traditions of her mother's ancestors, the Scotch Covenanters, had +been the fairy tales told to her by Michael, long before she could +grasp their meaning. They had played at being persecuted whilst they +were children—it was no new thing to her. But now she understood what +it meant. These real persecutions linked her to the children who +had suffered so long ago in Scotland; the mysterious tie of blood +relationship awoke within her. She too would die rather than forsake +the faith of her father and his people.</p> + +<p>"My Velia," said Father Cyril one day, after the village schoolmistress +had been complaining of her, "could not you, to please me, bow to +the holy icon, and cross yourself when you go to school? The teacher +complains of you and some of the other children. They will all do as +you do, dear child."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I cannot!" she cried, with tears. "If I could, I'd do it to please +you. But I know it's wrong, and God would be displeased. I must obey +God."</p> + +<p>"My child, they are nothing but signs," urged Father Cyril. "Surely +you love the Lord Christ, and couldn't you, to show your love to Him, +use the sign of the cross on which He died for us? And you reverence +the Mother of Christ—cannot you bow to a representation of her? All +these actions are only symbols. I have seen you kiss the keepsakes your +father and Michael gave you. Do these things in remembrance of our Lord +and His Mother."</p> + +<p>Velia stood looking into his face with an air of perplexity and +hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it does not mean that to them!" she answered, pointing towards the +village. "They really pray to the icon as if it was God; and they cross +themselves out of fear, not for remembrance. They think they will have +bad luck. I cannot do it; no, never! But oh, I wish I could, to please +you!"</p> + +<p>The girl stooped down and kissed his hand fondly.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril sighed, but said no more. He told the schoolmistress +gently not to observe the Stundist children too closely. They would +conform in time, if they were discreetly dealt with.</p> + +<p>But Okhrim, the Starosta, was one of the managers of the school, and +the zeal of the teacher led her to take her complaint to him.</p> + +<p>"How can I teach religion," she asked, "if these little pagans defy +me? I've punished, and punished, but they won't bow to the holy icon, +and it's the Mother of God herself. And all the Batoushka says is, 'Be +gentle.'"</p> + +<p>Okhrim's eyes sparkled, and his hard mouth twitched. The lust of +persecution had taken possession of him, and he must gratify it, even +by persecuting children.</p> + +<p>"So our Batoushka says, 'Be gentle!'" he snarled. "I'll be gentle with +him! He's unorthodox himself—teaching the folks all sorts o' nonsense, +and telling the men it's a sin to drink much vodka. We don't want +doctrine like that here."</p> + +<p>The village inn belonged to Okhrim, and since Father Cyril's influence +had been felt the receipts had fallen off seriously. The church was +filled, but the inn was comparatively empty. Okhrim hated the priest as +fully as he hated the Stundists. At the first favourable opportunity, +he drove over to Kovylsk, and going to the consistory, humbly asked for +an interview with Father Paissy, through whose efforts Stundism had +been rooted out of Knishi.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards Father Cyril received a mandate to appear before his +archbishop, who had always shown himself very friendly to him. But it +was not the archbishop who received him, it was his old fellow-student, +Father Paissy, who owed him many a grudge, and who treated him with +scant courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril," he said sharply, "we thought we had destroyed, root and +branch, the damnable heresy in your parish. But I am informed it is not +so. I hear you are bringing up a Stundist girl as your own daughter in +the church-house itself."</p> + +<p>"She is a delicate child," answered Father Cyril, "scarcely eleven +years of age; quite unfit for a rough life among the common peasants."</p> + +<p>"Yet you must place her elsewhere," said Father Paissy; "we cannot +permit a parish priest to make his house a refuge for heretics."</p> + +<p>"Let me beg of you to leave her with me for a few years!" exclaimed +Father Cyril. "Who knows whether love and kindness may not bring her +back to the Church? She is a mere child, Father Paissy, most docile and +tractable. In time—yes, in time, she may come back to us."</p> + +<p>"Was her father Alexis Ivanoff, that dangerous agitator?" asked Father +Paissy.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered reluctantly, "but he was banished to Siberia in the +early spring; and Michael, his only other child, went with him. She has +not a soul related to her in the village. All the other children have +relatives who can take some care of them. There has not been time yet +for her to forget. But time does wonders. Let the child remain under my +care and my instruction, and by and by she will comprehend the truths +of our holy Orthodox Church. She will learn none of them by living with +a peasant."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't care to make the girl a theologian," said Father Paissy, +with a sneer; "it will be sufficient for her to conform because she +must. The people ought to obey the Church, without asking why."</p> + +<p>"Alas! Too many of them do," thought Father Cyril; "and they only come +to church and to confession because they must."</p> + +<p>"I will make a servant of the girl," he said aloud; "and we will forego +the monthly payment made for her. It would be dangerous to place her +into a peasant's family, for she is thoroughly versed in all the +Stundist doctrines."</p> + +<p>"We have considered all that," replied Father Paissy, "and we will +place her where she can do no harm. The archbishop requires you to +deliver up this Stundist girl to the widow of your predecessor, who is +still living at Knishi. She is a pious woman, though not over-learned. +I am acquainted with her, and I have already apprised her of the +archbishop's decision."</p> + +<p>"The old Matoushka!" exclaimed Father Cyril in a tone of dismay. She +bore the character of a virago; and there was not a woman in the +village who would work for her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; the most suitable person to deal with the girl," replied Father +Paissy. "Before you go, take a friendly warning from me. We hear you +secretly favour these ignorant and impious heretics. We hear also +that you interfere too much with secular affairs. There are several +complaints lodged against you; we had none in Father Vasili's time. +Take care, Father Cyril; take care!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_29">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A YOKE OF BONDAGE</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE long white line of the road to Knishi, running straight up to the +distant horizon, lay before Father Cyril, as he drove slowly along it, +lost in thought. He was very unhappy, and his heart felt like lead. +There was not a home in Knishi where he would not rather have placed +Velia than with the old Matoushka. He knew her to be a hard, mean, and +hypocritical woman; very devout, for she never failed to be present at +mass every day. But he felt that she hated him for the many changes he +had made in Father Vasili's slovenly performance of his duties, though +she paid him exaggerated deference as her priest. She came often to +confession— a religious duty more painful to him than to her. How could +he give up the dear child, Velia, to her?</p> + +<p>There was, too, a painful sense that he was held in the iron hand of +tyranny. He had never felt it before, and the touch penetrated to +his very soul. It was a sin against humanity to give the child up to +this woman; his conscience rebelled against it. Was it not also a sin +against God?</p> + +<p>Father Cyril dropped his reins, and let his horse crawl on slowly at +its own pace. Here was the question of questions—the question that +had sent his parishioners into banishment. The tyranny man exercised +over man, piercing to the very thoughts of the heart—was it a thing +to be endured? "No!" said the Stundist. "We stand fast in the liberty +wherewith Christ has made us free."</p> + +<p>But Father Cyril found himself bound fast under a yoke of bondage. It +made him very miserable to feel its weight as he had never done before. +He knew there was no help for him. He must do a thing which his soul +and his conscience abhorred. The child would be taken from him by +force, if he did not give her up.</p> + +<p>It was heartrending to him to tell Velia of the doom that was +pronounced against her. He took her on his knee, and pressed her head +tenderly against his breast, not daring to look upon her face as he +broke the painful news to her. He felt the little heart beating fast +against his encircling arm, and the convulsive clasp of her small hand. +At last she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril, is it true?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if father and Michael only knew!" she cried. "They'd save me."</p> + +<p>"They could not, my darling," he answered, tears stealing down his +cheeks; "the Government is too strong, and the Church is too strong, +for feeble folks like us to resist them. We must submit. I will do all +I can for you, and watch over you; and you shall come here as often as +possible."</p> + +<p>"The old Matoushka will not let it be!" cried Velia in despair.</p> + +<p>Father Vasili's widow lived a little way on the other side of the +church, near to the cemetery, in a log-hut she had had built for +herself when her husband died. She was very well off, thanks to her +own thrift, and her clever faculty for squeezing gifts and dues out of +the parishioners during Father Vasili's life. But she chose to live as +if she was in the deepest penury. She had never kept a servant, but +now she was growing old, she had to pay a woman—when she could get +one—to do her washing and cleaning. To give her her due, her house was +far cleaner than the peasants' huts. For some months she had coveted +the possession of Velia and the three roubles a month paid for her +maintenance. Now she had got her, her chief aim was to make her do as +much work and to cost as small a sum as possible.</p> + +<p>She had a secondary aim—that of making Velia into an Orthodox +Christian. She never missed going to church, and thither Velia was +bound to accompany her. Father Cyril, at the altar, saw the strong old +woman take hold of Velia's reluctant hand, and make the sign of the +cross with it, and force the girl to bend her head before the icon. The +action scandalised him, and Velia's miserable face tormented him. It +was in vain he remonstrated with the old Matoushka; she was only too +glad to be able to wring his heart.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril found himself powerless to soften Velia's lot. The +woman was cruel, but not with such manifest cruelty as to arouse the +indignation of the neighbours, and give him sufficient ground for a +representation to the archbishop, and a petition to get Velia placed +elsewhere. He knew she suffered from a want of nourishing food; and +as the winter passed by he saw that she went shivering about in very +deficient clothing. He felt that he should have to stand by, his hands +tied, and his tongue silenced, whilst the child he loved was dying by +inches. He made an effort to induce the old Matoushka to allow Velia +to come to his home once a week, by promising to provide her with wood +split ready for her stove—a task too heavy for the little girl.</p> + +<p>"She may go if she'll go to confession," said the old Matoushka.</p> + +<p>"That, of course, you could not forbid," replied Father Cyril.</p> + +<p>But Velia could not be prevailed upon to go to confession. Her father +had thought it wrong, she hardly knew why, but that was enough.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril appealed to Yarina; and Yarina, who was the richest woman +in Knishi, invited the old Matoushka to spend a day with her, and bring +Velia to play with her children. The old Matoushka went, but she locked +Velia up in a closet to which there was no window. The girl was her +slave, and no one should interfere between them. The Starosta, Okhrim, +was on her side, and both of them triumphed over Father Cyril. They +held fast a scourge to flog him with. For Velia's sake, he gave up the +useless conflict.</p> + +<p>It was almost a relief to Father Cyril when he, found himself, through +the influence of his wife's relatives, transferred to a larger and more +important parish on the other side of Kovylsk. He could do nothing for +Velia, and her misery was greater than he could bear to witness. No +letter had reached him from Alexis, and he did not know how to find out +his place of exile. Besides, what could Alexis do? The knowledge of his +child's position would only torture him.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril could not even bid the girl farewell, except in the +presence of the old Matoushka, who would not let Velia go out of her +sight. He drew the child to him, looked into her appealing eyes, +kissed her forehead, and tearing himself away took refuge in his +church, where, before the altar, he prayed long and fervently for the +conversion of the misguided Stundists to the Orthodox faith.</p> + +<p>After Father Cyril was gone, Velia's life was a blank despair. +To children there is no hope in the future, for they can foresee +nothing. The daily glimpse of Father Cyril in church, the fond and +pitying glance he never failed to give to the eager, miserable little +face always turned to him; the sight of the young Matoushka and her +children—all these had been something to look forward to, day by day. +They had been what Velia lived by, the scanty food on which her young +heart fed. Now this food was taken away, she grew hungry, with a +desperate hunger, for the sight of a beloved face. There was no face to +be seen in her world save the harsh, forbidding visage of her mistress.</p> + +<p>It was the gossip of the village that the old Matoushka was about to +marry Okhrim, the Starosta. This was not true, though Okhrim went +often to visit the widow. Neither could ever arrive at a satisfactory +knowledge of how much property the other possessed. Their conversation +was always of money, or of the almost as interesting topic—the Stundist +heresy. Both were supremely Orthodox. When Okhrim was there, Velia +hardly dared to breathe. She crept into the darkest corners, and made +herself as small as possible. Nothing amused Okhrim more than to force +the trembling child to make a profound obeisance to the "Mother of +God," a really handsome icon which occupied the place of honour in the +hut. It proved how devout the priest's widow was.</p> + +<p>"She'll make a good Christian yet," he was wont to say, with a sneering +smile which frightened Velia more than his worst oath.</p> + +<p>"She's a stubborn little toad!" responded the mistress viciously.</p> + +<p>By day Velia scarcely knew a moment's rest. The old Matoushka was +a strong old woman, and she had never had a child of her own. She +did not know, and she did not wish to know, the limits of a child's +strength. As long as Velia could move, she must be kept to work. When +she could work no longer it was time for her to go to bed, on a ragged +mattress behind the oven. It was warm, but it swarmed with crickets and +cockroaches. Velia worked till her young limbs ached, and her eyes grew +dim with sleep, before she could resolve to seek rest. But every night +nature compelled her to succumb, and creep exhausted to her dreaded bed.</p> + +<p>So the long dreary months of the winter wore slowly away—those bitter +days and nights when her father and brother were marching across the +icebound wastes of Siberia, often congratulating themselves that Velia +was safe, and cherished as a daughter in Father Cyril's home. The girl +cried after them incessantly in her heart, though her tyrant knew +nothing of it. It is terrible, but children are sometimes too sad for +tears or cries.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_30">CHAPTER XXX</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>VELIA'S TYRANTS</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>A STUNTED, emaciated, broken-spirited child, dumb, and not opening her +mouth, was Velia when the spring came. Yarina's heart ached for her, +but she could show the girl so little kindness! Her house was quite a +mile away, on the farther side of Knishi; and the old Matoushka did +not welcome visitors, unless they brought in their hands gifts worth +having. Yarina was rich, and the old Matoushka was obsequious to her, +but she gave her no chance of seeing Velia alone; and the warm clothes +she brought for the girl lay in a chest till there was a chance of +selling them.</p> + +<p>The summer brought out-of-door work for Velia. It was better for her +than the dark, cold days of winter, when she was always under the lash +of her mistress's tongue. But in every other way her lot was unchanged, +and the toil was even harder. She had never been at school since Father +Cyril left.</p> + +<p>The priest who had succeeded him was one of the old sort—a man after +Okhrim's own heart, except that he was very eager after dues, and +extorted a great deal more money from his parishioners than Father +Cyril received. The new Batoushka could drink like a man, said Okhrim; +and was a sharp hand at making bargains. The drinking shops prospered, +and the congregation in church dwindled. But there were little secret +meetings in the village for reading the Bible, where the seed sown by +Father Cyril, as well as by the Stundists, was springing up. Many of +the people in Knishi knew now the difference between true religion and +the imitation of it. But the chance of a real revival of religion in +the Orthodox Church was gone from Knishi.</p> + +<p>Yarina felt it more deeply than anyone else, and her heart yearned +after her old friends the Stundists. She felt speechless indignation at +the thought of their sufferings. She longed to hear them sing praises +as if God was really listening to them, and praying as to a real Father +ready to give good gifts to His children. There were many besides +herself who remembered them with affection, and almost with remorse. +There was no man now like Alexis, to whom they could go for intelligent +counsel, or the friendly settlement of disputes. There was no woman +like Matrona, or Tatiania, to watch beside the dying, and pray for them +with simple, heartfelt prayers, which the passing soul could join in.</p> + +<p>The last days of harvest were come, and every man and woman, except +Yarina, were busy in the golden harvest-field, when one evening, as +the air grew cooler, she strolled down her garden to the margin of the +river, which formed one of the boundaries of it. She was quite alone, +for the children were gone with the servants to the harvest-field. A +tall, thin, overgrown lad was hiding among the thick forest of reeds, +but crept away as she came into sight.</p> + +<p>"Come out! I see you!" she called, in spite of the fact that she saw +nobody. "I see and hear you. Come out, or I'll send for the Starosta."</p> + +<p>Still there was no sign of any human being. She could hear the joyous +twittering of birds, and the distant lowing of cattle feeding along the +banks of the river, the swish of the current and the rustling of reeds, +but there was no other sound. Yet she was sure someone was near her.</p> + +<p>"Come out," she said gently, "and I'll help you, if you need help. +Perhaps you are hungry, I will bring you food. Even if you are a thief, +I am sorry for you."</p> + +<p>The reeds parted, and a face looked up to her.</p> + +<p>She thought she had seen it before, but was not sure. It was a thin, +pinched face—one that had been burned black under a scorching sun, +and made pallid by cold and hunger. But the deep blue eyes that gazed +beseechingly into her own touched some chord of memory.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Michael Ivanoff," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, heavenly Tsaritza!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The next moment she took the wayworn face between her hands, and kissed +the sunburnt forehead.</p> + +<p>"I'm come back to save Velia," said Michael, with a sob of joy.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" she cried. "You're none too soon. But oh, we must be +careful! Stay, while I fetch you something to eat."</p> + +<p>She ran hastily to the house, and brought back with her a +knitting-basket and a stool. She could sit knitting on the bank of the +river without anyone suspecting she had a companion hidden among the +reeds. This artifice she had learned when she was a girl.</p> + +<p>So Michael, lying out of sight, ate his food, of which he was sorely in +need, and told the story of the journey to Eastern Siberia.</p> + +<p>Yarina wept bitter tears, and flew into a passion of anger and horror +as she listened. So many of her old friends dead—murdered, she called +it—and the children! Nine of them, did Michael say? Was it true? Oh, +the pity and the shame and the sin of it!</p> + +<p>"Where are you hiding now?" asked Yarina.</p> + +<p>"Every night I go to the haunted hut," he said; "there's no danger of +being found there. But all day long I linger here, on the chance of +seeing Velia alone, but I have not seen her yet."</p> + +<p>"You will never see her alone," said Yarina gloomily.</p> + +<p>"I must!" he exclaimed. "I've money enough, if we can once get out of +Knishi and reach Kovylsk. My mother's cousin in Odessa has given me +money, and got somebody's passport for me. Only Velia will have to +travel as a boy. I've got boy's clothes for her."</p> + +<p>"But how to get her out of that old harridan's clutches!" exclaimed +Yarina.</p> + +<p>They discussed plans as long as they dared, until they heard the voices +of the harvesters coming home in the bright moonlight. One thing only +was settled, that Yarina should conceal enough food for every day among +the reeds. Michael had been living on berries. It was a great thing to +be supplied with food. He could afford to wait longer than he could +have done otherwise.</p> + +<p>But day after day passed by, bringing no chance of seeing Velia alone. +The harvest was gathered in, and concealment among the reeds became +more risky. The men had time to fish in the river; the children were +playing about; and very soon the cutting of the reeds would begin. Then +it would be impossible to hide among them.</p> + +<p>Now, too, came the autumnal washing of clothes, after the harvest +was over and before the winter set in. Troops of women and girls +carried great bundles, hanging upon yokes, down to the little wooden +pier, where the washing was done in the river, amid much laughing and +gossiping. Michael was obliged to keep out of sight round a bend of the +stream two or three hundred yards away. He could hear their voices, +and often catch the words. Yarina stayed by the pier hour after hour, +apparently watching her maid, but in reality hoping for a chance to +speak to Velia, if the old Matoushka sent her down with any washing.</p> + +<p>But the old Matoushka had no intention of exposing her rags to the +criticism and derision of her neighbours. She reflected that she was +the widow of a priest. Waiting till the bulk of the merry party had +gone home with their dripping burdens, she went down to the pier, with +Velia dragging after her, broken-hearted and despairing. The harvest +had brought no joy to her, for she had not been permitted to speak to +one of her old neighbours and friends.</p> + +<p>The poor girl knelt down on the wet planks, and stooped over the water, +washing the old clothing with her wasted hands and arms. The last +peasant had gone, muttering a sulky "Good-night" to the old Matoushka.</p> + +<p>They were quite alone now. Behind Velia was her oppressor—the hard +woman to whom she was a slave, and from whom she could not escape. A +terrible winter lay before her; for in this, the misery of children is +greater than that of beasts—that they can foresee as well as remember. +Life was a confusing mystery and an intolerable burden to her. Why did +not God let her die? Her misery had taken such hold upon her that she +had forgotten even the prayers her mother had taught her. Only the +Lord's Prayer, which she heard daily in the church, remained in her +memory, but even that was now connected in her mind with blows and +curses.</p> + +<p>The night was falling fast, but a lovely light was still lingering +where the sun had gone down, and was reflected with changeful opal +colours on the swift stream. She paused for a moment to look round, and +then, as if some mischievous hand had snatched it from her, the old +petticoat she was washing floated away down the shining river.</p> + +<p>Velia sprang to her feet, and stood paralysed with terror for an +instant or two. She heard the loud breathing of the old woman close +beside her, and felt rather than saw the heavy hand lifted against +her. With an agonised shriek, caring no longer what became of her, she +sprang into the rapid current, which flowed under the end of the pier. +To her dying day, the old Matoushka was not sure that her blow had not +thrown her in.</p> + +<p>Michael heard the cry, and saw a girl floating rapidly down towards +him. In an instant, he plunged into the water, and dragged her out of +the dangerous current into his hiding-place among the reeds. There was +scarcely light enough for him to see the face, and this was not the +sweet, smiling face of his young sister. Yet some hope, mingled with +fear, set his pulses throbbing. Could this girl be Velia?</p> + +<p>He did not know what to do. If he lingered, the life might leave the +half-drowned frame, but if he called for aid, both of them would be +discovered. He laid his hand on her heart to feel if it was beating, +and in the bosom of her ragged dress, he found a Testament. No doubt it +was Velia! No one but a Stundist girl would carry a Testament about her +in secret. God had brought her to him as if by a miracle.</p> + +<p>He would not stir, but he prayed fervently for direction. Was it a +fancy, or did he really feel his mother's hand on him, restraining him? +There was a sense of her soothing presence upon him, as there had been +before in Knishi. No; he must keep silent. The water, heated all day +by the sun, had not been very cold, and he held Velia closely pressed +to him in his arms. As soon as it was quite dark, he saw a lantern +moving hither and thither in Yarina's garden, and her clear voice came +distinctly to his ear.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "it's not any use searching for it any longer. All of +you go in, and get to bed. I'll stay out a little while."</p> + +<p>But before Yarina came, he felt Velia stirring in his arms, and +breathing with long-drawn sighs. She had not been many minutes in +the water, and had become unconscious rather from fright than from +drowning. Michael laid his hand gently on her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Keep silent! Oh, keep silent!" he said. "I am here—Michael, your big +brother."</p> + +<p>"Are we dead?" she whispered, as she opened her eyes on the thick +tangle of reeds. "Are we dead and buried?"</p> + +<p>"No! Hush!" he answered. "We are in Yarina's garden."</p> + +<p>Yarina herself was cautiously drawing near, swinging her lantern, +and calling the cat in a loud voice. When she was sure everyone had +returned to the house, she came on quickly.</p> + +<p>"Michael!" she called softly.</p> + +<p>He parted the reeds, and came towards her, carrying Velia in his arms. +They listened to the girl's account of how she had flung herself into +the river, but she could not say whether or no her mistress had pushed +her.</p> + +<p>"But she will rouse the neighbours to seek you!" cried Yarina. "They +will come at once to search the river banks. And who knows! Okhrim +squints askance at me, as if he suspected me of being one of you. He +can't bear my adopted little ones. They may search my house, and all +over the place. Michael, you and Velia must get away to the forest at +once."</p> + +<p>The village was already sinking into stillness and darkness, except the +inn, where the window was still lit up. But they avoided the street as +much as possible, and stole along little by-paths familiar to them. It +was not so late that the watch-dogs were in full vigilance, and they +only growled a little in the fold-yards. The sky was full of stars so +bright as to cast their shadows before them as they stepped southwards. +All the pleasant yet weird sounds of night accompanied them; the +shrill sighing of the wind across the stubble of the cornfields; the +drowsy twittering of the birds, roused a little by their passing +footsteps; the melancholy cry of the owls flitting past them in pursuit +of the night-moths; the bats were zig-zagging through the sweet air, +especially over the ponds, and a thin white mist hung all over the +land. Michael and Velia walked on hand in hand, almost speechless, but +immeasurably happy. It seemed to them as if they were wandering in some +utterly strange country, and, exhausted as they were with the perils +and the strong emotions of the last few hours, they only felt a joy +beyond words.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_31">CHAPTER XXXI</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>RESCUED</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE forest was dark with a blackness that blotted out every object. But +here they were absolutely safe till morning. There was not a man in +Knishi who would dare to enter it. Michael lighted Yarina's lantern, +and guided Velia to the hut. His dreamy joy was changing into a clear, +rejoicing triumph over the success of his perilous undertaking. He had +rescued his sister, and the rapture of a saviour was his. True, there +were perils ahead, but none like those through which they had already +passed.</p> + +<p>He made Velia lie down on his bed of dried leaves, but he slept little +himself, his brain was too busy with exciting thoughts. All the past +events crossed his memory—the happy life for a few years in Knishi, +whilst the spirit of persecution slumbered a little; the goodness of +Father Cyril, and the opposition he made to further persecution; the +secret meetings for worship held in this haunted hut; the long fatal +journey to Siberia; and the condition of the exiles, when he left them, +just before the close of winter. All that was in the past, but it is a +past which will never die out of his memory, and which will come back +to him in every hour of quiet thought.</p> + +<p>Before the first gleam of day, he roused Velia, for they were to meet +Yarina at a corner of the forest past which the road to Kovylsk ran. In +the glimpses they caught of the sky when they reached any opening of +the trees, they saw the stars growing pale. Velia pressed closely to +Michael's side as they drew near to the fearfully-haunted place. It was +a grave in a deep ravine, and a tall, thin column of mist rose from it, +wavering as if half alive. Trembling among the thick trees, which were +still black with night, it had a mysterious and sinister appearance. +Michael threw his arm round Velia, and bade her shut her eyes until +they were well past the accursed spot.</p> + +<p>At last they reached the outskirts of the forest. The sun was not +above the distant horizon yet, but a sweet, soft light was everywhere +diffused, a light without shadows. There was a murmur all about them +of the awakening day. Michael turned towards the east, where dwelt his +father and all his comrades, and watched the growing dawn. The same +sun was already shining upon them, and the same Father in heaven was +watching over them all.</p> + +<p>It was not long before, in the stillness, they heard the shrill, +complaining sound of creaking wheels; and Yarina came up driving alone +in her dilijans. There was no time lost in climbing up beside her, for +they were all anxious to put as great a distance as possible between +themselves and Knishi. Yarina had heard nothing of any search after +Velia.</p> + +<p>Now, in the long, slow progress over the rough road, there was time +enough for telling all the story of their lives since Michael and Velia +were separated. Yarina listened, and often the tears filled her eyes. +Why, these were children who were talking, young creatures who had +never sinned against the laws of man, and not much against the laws of +God. Yet they had suffered more than the worst of criminals ought to +suffer.</p> + +<p>It was true, then, what Father Cyril had once said +incautiously—persecution was the weapon of the devil. Yarina left her +dilijans at an inn, and accompanied Michael and Velia to Markovin's +door, there bidding them good-bye, before ringing his bell. She kissed +Velia again and again, and pressed her lips on Michael's forehead, +sobbing and weeping.</p> + +<p>"Tell them out there, in Siberia," she said, "that I'll not let my +adopted children forget their own fathers and mothers. They shall hear +all about it when they are old enough. I'm almost a Stundist myself, +but I haven't got the spirit of a martyr, God forgive me!"</p> + +<p>Neither had Markovin the spirit of a martyr. Nevertheless, he received +his unwelcome visitors very kindly; taking care, however, to send a +message to the presbyter of the church in Kovylsk that they were with +him, and must be forwarded on their way immediately.</p> + +<p>Michael noticed that the curtain which had formerly hung before the +icon had been taken away, and a twinkling lamp burned in front of it. +It was a significant sign that the spirit of persecution was abroad in +Kovylsk, and that Markovin quailed before it.</p> + +<p>Two days later Michael and Velia reached the railway station from which +the exile party had started on their cruel journey. But they were going +south now, instead of north. The train was almost due, and Michael ran +with his passport in his hand to get their tickets.</p> + +<p>The clerk glanced doubtfully at the passport, and pushed it back. "Not +in legal form," he said curtly.</p> + +<p>Michael's heart sank within him. How it was not legal he did not know, +but any delay was dangerous.</p> + +<p>At that moment Velia uttered a cry of joy, and he saw her rush away and +fling her arms round a priest in a shabby cassock.</p> + +<p>"Father Cyril!" she exclaimed. "Father Cyril!"</p> + +<p>In a moment the priest took in the situation. Here was Velia, disguised +as a boy; and yonder was Michael, turning away from the ticket clerk, +distressed and perplexed. He took the passport from him.</p> + +<p>"It is not visé'd properly," he said. "These two young people," he +added, pleasantly, to the clerk, "have been parishioners of mine till +a few months ago. I can vouch for them. Where are you going to?" he +inquired of Michael.</p> + +<p>"Odessa—to our cousin," gasped Michael.</p> + +<p>"So am I," said Father Cyril. "Three tickets for Odessa, if you please."</p> + +<p>The clerk knew Father Cyril by sight, and had heard him spoken of +highly. Besides, it was impolitic to get into collision with a priest. +He gave the tickets with an obsequious smile.</p> + +<p>As the train went on to Odessa, Father Cyril, like Yarina, had ample +time to hear the whole of the long and dreary story each had to tell. +Velia sat on one side, with his arm about her, and her head resting +on his shoulder, where she slept during the night. Michael was on +the other hand, but the boy was too anxious to sleep. They talked in +quiet and subdued voices; and as Father Cyril listened to them, his +convictions grew deeper that persecution was as much a blunder as a +crime. It had driven Nicolas back to the Orthodox Church, and made a +coward and a hypocrite of him, but those who had gone into exile would +never be won back.</p> + +<p>Father Cyril did not lose sight of Michael and Velia until he had seen +them safe on board a vessel bound for Glasgow. Michael's exultation at +their escape was blended with grief at quitting his own country.</p> + +<p>"I shall come back again when I am a man," he said earnestly, again and +again; "not to your parish, Father Cyril, but to places where they are +never taught anything true about God. I can't let my own people live +and die in darkness, can I? So I must come back."</p> + +<p>"Let it be as God wills," answered Father Cyril; "surely the Church +will awake to her duties."</p> + +<p>He watched whilst the vessel steamed slowly away amid the crowded +shipping, and then turned back into Odessa, sad at heart. These young +heretics were very dear to him.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_32">CHAPTER XXXII</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A LETTER FROM SIBERIA</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>WHEN the old Matoushka saw her little victim carried swiftly away by +the current, she stood paralysed, watching till Velia was out of her +sight. Had she thrust the child in? She could not answer the question +to herself. What could she do now? There was not a creature in sight. +The nearest house was Yarina's, but it was on the other side of the +river, and the bridge across was nearly half a mile off. The body would +have sunk, or drifted far away, before she could get any help.</p> + +<p>How she reached her hut, trembling and tottering under her load of wet +clothing, she hardly knew. She sat down and did nothing. It crossed +her mind that she would have to account for Velia's disappearance, but +she had not strength sufficient to drag herself into the village. She +swallowed a small glass of vodka, yet that did not give her courage +enough to face the inquiries and remarks of her neighbours. Well, it +would be of no use now. The girl was drowned. What will be, will be!</p> + +<p>Doggedly she set about getting her supper, but she could not rid her +mind of the vision of the girl drowning. She lit one wick of her lamp, +but the corners of the hut were very dark, and she soon lighted all +three. The silence was alarming; there was no frightened footfall or +pitiful sigh in the hut. The old Matoushka tried to laugh away her +own fancies, but in the stillness she could hear the terrified scream +uttered by Velia when she fell into the river.</p> + +<p>It was a great relief when she heard the familiar footstep of her +friend Okhrim. He entered the illuminated hut, blinking as he came in +from the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "Why, Matoushka, are you having a feast?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," she answered; "I'm in great trouble. I've something serious +to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Velia drowned!" he exclaimed, when she had finished her account. "Do +you know what folks are sure to say?"</p> + +<p>She could guess very well what would be said. Okhrim chuckled inwardly, +and said to himself, "Now I have her between my finger and thumb."</p> + +<p>"You're sure you didn't push her in?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied in a tremulous voice.</p> + +<p>"Do you think they'll believe that?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>She did not answer.</p> + +<p>Okhrim sat silent for some time, lost in thought. Then he looked at her +with triumphant cunning.</p> + +<p>"I advise you to let her disappear," he said. "Clava disappeared from +the church-house in Father Cyril's time, and why shouldn't Velia? Wake +up to-morrow and find her gone. Go at once and tell the Batoushka; and +come to me as Starosta. If the body is found, it will account for the +disappearance. I'll report it to the authorities at Kovylsk."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're a true friend," she said, sobbing.</p> + +<p>She fetched out her best vodka, and brought some bread and cheese, and +sat by, not able to eat, and marvelling silently at a man's appetite. +After it was satisfied, Okhrim resumed the conversation.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, "you'll let me have that little sum I want to +borrow."</p> + +<p>"What interest will you give me?" she asked timidly.</p> + +<p>"We'll settle that by and by," he answered, with a sneer. It would not +be necessary now to marry the old widow. He could squeeze what money he +liked out of her.</p> + +<p>Some months after Michael and Velia reached Scotland, they received the +following letter from their father:—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "BELOVED CHILDREN,—Grace be with you, mercy, and peace from God the +Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth +and love. Let us first praise God for His tender mercies both towards +you and towards us. Our kinsman in Odessa has written me concerning +you. May the blessing of God Almighty rest upon him and Father Cyril! +I long to hear from yourselves that you prosper and are in health, and +that your souls prosper.<br> +<br> + "I charge you, my beloved son, that you use all diligence in your +studies; especially that, as far as possible, you learn something of +healing, that when you return to us, you may be like Luke, the beloved +physician. This knowledge will be useful to you wherever your 'lost' is +cast. Let my well-beloved Velia learn all that a woman should know: how +to nurse the sick, teach and bring up children, make garments, guide +the house, and glorify the Lord in doing little things. These things +do, and you will gladden your father's heart.<br> +<br> + "For ourselves, the loving-kindness of our God towards us is +marvellous. I will write you particulars. He has given us favour in +the eyes of our neighbours; more especially of the police officer and +Starosta, who is a Mongol, and cares nothing about our religion. I do +all his writing and accounts for him; and he deals pleasantly with +us. We have made a decent home—or homes, rather—of the hut and its +barns; and we live in great harmony and peace together. Katerina has +another child to comfort her for the babe she lost on the journey. All +the rest are well both in body and soul. As we are dwelling not far +from the frontier of Mongolia, Khariton Kondraty and his son Sergius +are learning the Mongol language, to the intent that when our term of +banishment is over, they may go forth, even as our Lord sent His first +disciples, to preach the kingdom of God. He said, 'Freely ye have +received, freely give.' It is the bread of life and the water of life +they will give to a hungered and thirsty nation.<br> +<br> + "Rejoice, my children, Paraska has joined her husband, Demyan. She +came to Irkutsk in the service of the Countess Nesteroff, whose son, +Valerian, is in exile in Saghalien. Paraska came herself to tell us, +and to bring news of our dear little ones left behind in Knishi. They +stand fast, poor lambs! in our faith; all but the infants who were too +young to know anything of it. Yet we trust them to Him who took little +children into His arms, blessing them. Paraska further told us that +Paul Rodenko's wife, Halya, has joined him in Saghalien; and that his +letters are full of courage, and thanksgiving to our Father in heaven. +There, as well as here, there are souls eager to listen to the glad +tidings of salvation; and in every place of banishment whither our +people go, the Lord's name is magnified. Is not this better than houses +and lands, and the honour and praise of men? 'I will be a Father unto +you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.' +Remember these words, my beloved ones. Our term of banishment will +end in 1904. What we shall then do, God alone knows. But if it be His +will, I will meet my son at Odessa—a young man then—and we will confer +together how we can serve both our Lord and our country. For Russia is +dear to us all; the people are our people; the Czar is our ruler, whom +God has set over us. We are ready, not only to be in bonds, but to die +for Russia. We dedicate ourselves and our children to the well-being of +our fatherland. God save Russia!<br> +<br> + "May the blessing of God rest upon all your mother's kindred! We +cannot recompense them, but they shall be recompensed by Him who said, +'Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of +cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he +shall in no wise lose his reward.'<br> +<br> + "Now, my beloved, 'unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, +and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with +exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, +dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.'"<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p>PRINTED BY</p> + +<p>MORRISON AND GIBB LIMITED, EDINBURGH.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76597 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76597-h/images/image001.jpg b/76597-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b56007a --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image002.jpg b/76597-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fac287 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image003.jpg b/76597-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0909d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image004.jpg b/76597-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7709e62 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image005.jpg b/76597-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc827dc --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image006.jpg b/76597-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..781bafa --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/76597-h/images/image007.jpg b/76597-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab95ae6 --- /dev/null +++ b/76597-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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