They cowered down together, endeavoring to keep each other warm,
the temperature being now ten degrees below freezing point.
The wind, though slight, having passed over the snow-clad
mountains of the east, pierced them through and through.
Michael and Nadia, lying in the afterpart of the raft,
bore this increase of suffering without complaint.
Jolivet and Blount, placed near them, stood these first assaults
of the Siberian winter as well as they could. No one now spoke,
even in a low voice. Their situation entirely absorbed them.
At any moment an incident might occur, which they could
not escape unscathed.
For a man who hoped soon to accomplish his mission,
Michael was singularly calm. Even in the gravest conjunctures,
his energy had never abandoned him. He already saw the moment
when he would be at last allowed to think of his mother, of Nadia,
of himself! He now only dreaded one final unhappy chance;
this was, that the raft might be completely barred by ice before
reaching Irkutsk. He thought but of this, determined beforehand,
if necessary, to attempt some bold stroke.
Restored by a few hours' rest, Nadia had regained the physical energy
which misery had sometimes overcome, although without ever having
shaken her moral energy. She thought, too, that if Michael had to make
any fresh effort to attain his end, she must be there to guide him.
But in proportion as she drew nearer to Irkutsk, the image of her
father rose more and more clearly before her mind.
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