iemschik, adding the cracking of
his whip to the rumbling of the thunder.

Michael took Nadia's hand. "Are you asleep, sister?"

"No, brother."

"Be ready for anything; here comes the storm!"

"I am ready."

Michael Strogoff had only just time to draw the leathern curtains, when
the storm was upon them.

The iemschik leapt from his seat and seized the horses' heads, for
terrible danger threatened the whole party.

The tarantass was at a standstill at a turning of the road, down which
swept the hurricane; it was absolutely necessary to hold the animals'
heads to the wind, for if the carriage was taken broadside it must
infallibly capsize and be dashed over the precipice. The frightened
horses reared, and their driver could not manage to quiet them. His
friendly expressions had been succeeded by the most insulting epithets.
Nothing was of any use. The unfortunate animals, blinded by the
lightning, terrified by the incessant peals of thunder, threatened every
instant to break their traces and flee. The iemschik had no longer any
control over his team.

At that moment Michael Strogoff threw himself from the tarantass and
rushed to his assistance. Endowed with more than common strength, he
managed, though not without difficulty, to master the horses.

The storm now raged with redoubled fury. A perfect avalanche of stones
and trunks of trees began to roll down the slope above them.

"We cannot stop here," said Michael.

"We cannot stop anywhere," returned the iemschik, all his energies
apparently overcome by terror. "The storm will soon send us to the
bottom of the mountain, and that by the shortest way."

"Take you that horse, coward," returned Michael, "I'll look after this
one."

A fresh burst of the storm interrupted him. The driver and he were
obliged to crouch upon the ground to avoid being blown down. The
carriage, notwithstanding their efforts and those of the horses, was
gradually blown back, and had it not been stopped by the trunk of a
tree, it would have gone over the edge of the precipice.

"Do not be afraid, Nadia!" cried Michael Strogoff.

"I'm not afraid," replied the young Livonian, her voice not betraying
the slightest emotion.

The rumbling of the thunder ceased for an instant, the terrible blast
had swept past into the gorge below.

"Will you go back?" said the iemschik.

"No, we must go on! Once past this turning, we shall have the shelter of
the slope."

"But the horses won't mo