with an honest big head, just made to pat, and he, moreover, appeared to be much attached to his master.
In a moment more, Michael and Nadia were seated in the kibitka. Michael held out his hands as if to feel for those of Pigassof. "You wish to shake my hands!" said Nicholas. "There they are, little father! shake them as long as it will give you any pleasure."
The kibitka moved on; the horse, which Nicholas never touched with the whip, ambled along. Though Michael did not gain any in speed, at least some fatigue was spared to Nadia.
Such was the exhaustion of the young girl, that, rocked by the monotonous movement of the kibitka, she soon fell into a sleep, its soundness proving her complete prostration. Michael and Nicholas laid her on the straw as comfortably as possible. The compassionate young man was greatly moved, and if a tear did not escape from Michael's eyes, it was because the red-hot iron had dried up the last!
"She is very pretty," said Nicholas.
"Yes," replied Michael.
"They try to be strong, little father, they are brave, but they are weak after all, these dear little things! Have you come from far."
"Very far."
"Poor young people! It must have hurt you very much when they burnt your eyes!"
"Very much," answered Michael, turning towards Nicholas as if he could see him.
"Did you not weep?"
"Yes."
"I should have wept too. To think that one could never again see those one loves. But they can see you, however; that's perhaps some consolation!"
"Yes, perhaps. Tell me, my friend," continued Michael, "have you never seen me anywhere before?"
"You, little father? No, never."
"The sound of your voice is not unknown to me."
"Why!" returned Nicholas, smiling, "he knows the sound of my voice! Perhaps you ask me that to find out where I come from. I come from Kolyvan."
"From Kolyvan?" repeated Michael. "Then it was there I met you; you were in the telegraph office?"
