He has either remained in Omsk, or we shall arrive at Tomsk before him,
so as to cut him off; in either case he will not reach Irkutsk."
"A rugged woman, that old Siberian, who is evidently his mother,"
said the deh-baschi.
At this remark Michael's heart beat violently.
"Yes," answered the pendja-baschi. "She stuck to it well that
the pretended merchant was not her son, but it was too late.
Colonel Ogareff was not to be taken in; and, as he said,
he will know how to make the old witch speak when the time comes."
These words were so many dagger-thrusts for Michael. He was
known to be a courier of the Czar! A detachment of horsemen
on his track could not fail to cut him off. And, worst of all,
his mother was in the hands of the Tartars, and the cruel
Ogareff had undertaken to make her speak when he wished!
Michael well knew that the brave Siberian would sacrifice her life
for him. He had fancied that he could not hate Ivan Ogareff more,
yet a fresh tide of hate now rose in his heart. The wretch who had
betrayed his country now threatened to torture his mother.
The conversation between the two officers continued, and Michael
understood that an engagement was imminent in the neighborhood
of Kolyvan, between the Muscovite troops coming from the north
and the Tartars. A small Russian force of two thousand men,
reported to have reached the lower course of the Obi, were advancing
by forced marches towards Tomsk. If such was the case,
this force, which would soon find itself engaged with the main
body of Feofar-Khan's army, would be inevitably overwhelmed,
and the Irkutsk road would be in the entire possession
of the invaders.
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