"Sangarre!" exclaimed Ogareff, in the first moment of surprise,
and not supposing that it could be any other woman than the gypsy.
It was not Sangarre; it was Nadia!
At the moment when, floating on the ice, the girl had uttered
a cry on seeing the fire spreading along the current,
Michael had seized her in his arms, and plunged with her into
the river itself to seek a refuge in its depths from the flames.
The block which bore them was not thirty fathoms from the first
quay of Irkutsk.
Swimming beneath the water, Michael managed to get a footing with
Nadia on the quay. Michael Strogoff had reached his journey's end!
He was in Irkutsk!
"To the governor's palace!" said he to Nadia.
In less than ten minutes, they arrived at the entrance to the palace.
Long tongues of flame from the Angara licked its walls, but were powerless
to set it on fire. Beyond the houses on the bank were in a blaze.
The palace being open to all, Michael and Nadia entered
without difficulty. In the confusion, no one remarked them,
although their garments were dripping. A crowd of officers
coming for orders, and of soldiers running to execute them,
filled the great hall on the ground floor. There, in a sudden
eddy of the confused multitude, Michael and the young girl
were separated from each other.
Nadia ran distracted through the passages, calling her companion,
and asking to be taken to the Grand Duke. A door into a room flooded
with light opened before her.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361