The result of this would be in a short time the destruction of the raft
and of all those which it carried.
But, happily, the breeze did not blow from that side.
It came from the east, and drove the flames towards the left.
It was just possible that the fugitives would escape this danger.
The blazing town was at last passed. Little by little the glare
grew dimmer, the crackling became fainter, and the flames at
last disappeared behind the high cliffs which arose at an abrupt
turn of the river.
By this time it was nearly midnight. The deep gloom again threw its
protecting shadows over the raft. The Tartars were there, going to and
fro near the river. They could not be seen, but they could be heard.
The fires of the outposts burned brightly.
In the meantime it had become necessary to steer more
carefully among the blocks of ice. The old boatman stood up,
and the moujiks resumed their poles. They had plenty of work,
the management of the raft becoming more and more difficult
as the river was further obstructed.
Michael had crept forward; Jolivet followed; both listened
to what the old boatman and his men were saying.
"Look out on the right!"
"There are blocks drifting on to us on the left!"
"Fend! fend off with your boat-hook!"
"Before an hour is past we shall be stopped!"
"If it is God's will!" answered the old man. "Against His will there
is nothing to be done."
"You hear them," said Alcide.
"Yes," replied Michael, "but God is with us!"
The situation became more and more serious.
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