Nadia at last spoke to him of old Marfa, and of how unprotected
she would be in the midst of all these events.
"Have you received any news of your mother since the beginning
of the invasion?" she asked.
"None, Nadia. The last letter my mother wrote to me contained
good news. Marfa is a brave and energetic Siberian woman.
Notwithstanding her age, she has preserved all her moral strength.
She knows how to suffer."
"I shall see her, brother," said Nadia quickly. "Since you give me
the name of sister, I am Marfa's daughter."
And as Michael did not answer she added:
"Perhaps your mother has been able to leave Omsk?"
"It is possible, Nadia," replied Michael; "and I hope she may have
reached Tobolsk. Marfa hates the Tartars. She knows the steppe,
and would have no fear in just taking her staff and going down the banks
of the Irtych. There is not a spot in all the province unknown to her.
Many times has she traveled all over the country with my father;
and many times I myself, when a mere child, have accompanied them
across the Siberian desert. Yes, Nadia, I trust that my mother
has left Omsk."
"And when shall you see her?"
"I shall see her--on my return."
"If, however, your mother is still at Omsk, you will be able to spare
an hour to go to her?"
"I shall not go and see her."
"You will not see her?"
"No, Nadia," said Michael, his chest heaving as he felt he could
not go on replying to the girl's questions.
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