he eyes of his guest. "They have carried her off in
their boat, and have continued the descent of Irtych. It is only one
prisoner more to join the many they are taking to Tomsk!"

Michael Strogoff was unable to reply. He pressed his hand upon his heart
to restrain its beating. But, notwithstanding these many trials, the
sentiment of duty mastered his whole soul. "Where am I?" asked he.

"Upon the right bank of the Irtych, only five versts from Omsk," replied
the mujik.

"What wound can I have received which could have thus prostrated me? It
was not a gunshot wound?"

"No; a lance-thrust in the head, now healing," replied the mujik. "After
a few days' rest, little father, thou wilt be able to proceed. Thou
didst fall into the river; but the Tartars neither touched nor searched
thee; and thy purse is still in thy pocket."

Michael Strogoff gripped the mujik's hand. Then, recovering himself with
a sudden effort, "Friend," said he, "how long have I been in thy hut?"

"Three days."

"Three days lost!"

"Three days hast thou lain unconscious."

"Hast thou a horse to sell me?"

"Thou wishest to go?"

"At once."

"I have neither horse nor carriage, little father. Where the Tartar has
passed there remains nothing!"

"Well, I will go on foot to Omsk to find a horse."

"A few more hours of rest, and thou wilt be in a better condition to
pursue thy journey."

"Not an hour!"

"Come now," replied the mujik, recognizing the fact that it was useless
to struggle against the will of his guest, "I will guide thee myself.
Besides," he added, "the Russians are still in great force at Omsk, and
thou couldst, perhaps, pass unperceived."

"Friend," replied Michael Strogoff, "Heaven reward thee for all thou
hast done for me!"

"Only fools expect reward on earth," replied the mujik.

Michael Strogoff went out of the hut. When he tried to walk he was
seized with such faintness that, without the assistance of the mujik, he
would have fallen; but the fresh air quickly revived him. He then felt
the wound in his head, the violence of which his fur cap had lessened.
With the energy which he possessed, he was not a man to succumb under
such a trifle. Before his eyes lay a single goal--far-distant Irkutsk.
He must reach it! But he must pass through Omsk without stopping there.

"God protect my mother and Nadia!" he murmured. "I have no longer the
right to think of them!"

Michael Strogoff and the mujik soon arrived in the mer