Michael sometimes let his thoughts run on these hopes,
but he soon saw their improbability, and felt that the preservation
of the Grand Duke depended alone on him.
Nadia dragged herself along. Whatever might be her
moral energy, her physical strength would soon fail her.
Michael knew it only too well. If he had not been blind,
Nadia would have said to him, "Go, Michael, leave me in some hut!
Reach Irkutsk! Accomplish your mission! See my father!
Tell him where I am! Tell him that I wait for him, and you
both will know where to find me! Start! I am not afraid!
I will hide myself from the Tartars! I will take care of myself
for him, for you! Go, Michael! I can go no farther!"
Many times Nadia was obliged to stop. Michael then took her
in his strong arms and, having no longer to think of her fatigue,
walked more rapidly and with his indefatigable step.
On the 18th of September, at ten in the evening, Kimilteiskoe was
at last entered. From the top of a hill, Nadia saw in the horizon
a long light line. It was the Dinka River. A few lightning flashes
were reflected in the water; summer lightning, without thunder.
Nadia led her companion through the ruined village.
The cinders were quite cold. The last of the Tartars had passed
through at least five or six days before.
Beyond the village, Nadia sank down on a stone bench.
"Shall we make a halt?" asked Michael.
"It is night, Michael," answered Nadia. "Do you not want to rest
a few hours?"
"I would rather have crossed the Dinka," replied Michael, "I should
like to put that between us and the Emir's advance-guard.
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