exis! Alexis!" he shouted into the hay loft, and a brown face with
a shock of black hair, appeared at one of the windows.

"What is it, Boris Andreievitch?"

"Mamma wants the boat immediately," replied Boris. "She is going over
to see Marsha's sick child."

Alexis took a handful of sunflower seeds out of his pocket, and began
to eat them meditatively, throwing the husks behind him.

"The mistress won't go another day?" he enquired slowly.

Boris shook his head.

"The lake's overflowing, and the dam is none too strong over there by
Viletna," continued Alexis; "it would be better for her to wait a
little."

"She says she must go to-day," said Boris, "but I will tell her what
you say."

Madame Olsheffsky, however, refused to put off her visit; and Elena,
Boris, and Daria, looking out from the balcony, saw the boat with the
two figures in it start off from the little landing-place, and grow
smaller and smaller, until it faded away into a dim speck in the
distance.

CHAPTER III.

Late that afternoon the three children were playing with Tulipan in
the garden, when they heard Volodia's well-known voice shouting to
them--

"Elena! Boris Andreievitch!"

They fancied he seemed to be in a great hurry, and as they flew
towards him, they noticed that he had no hat, and there was a look of
terror on his face that froze Elena's heart with the certainty of some
unknown but terrible misfortune.

"The lake! the lake!" he panted; "where is the mistress?"

"Gone to see Marsha's sick child," said Elena, clinging to little
Daria with one hand, and gazing at Volodia with eyes full of terror.

"Ah, then it is true. It was her I saw! The poor mistress! Aie! Aie!
Don't move, children! Don't stir. Here is your only safety," cried
Volodia in piercing tones. "The river has flooded into the lake, and
the dam may go any moment. The village will be overwhelmed. Nothing
can save it! The water rises! rises! and any minute it may burst
through! The Saints have mercy! All our things will be lost; but it is
the will of God--we cannot fight against it." And Volodia crossed
himself devoutly with Russian fatalism.

"But mamma! what will happen to her?" cried Elena passionately. "Can
nothing be done?"

"To go towards the lake now would be certain death," replied Volodia
brokenly. "No, Elena Andreievna; we must trust in God. He alone can
save her if she is on the water now! Pray Heaven she may not have
started!"

As he spoke, a long