Travelers in Distress

DURING the momentary lull which followed, shouts could be distinctly heard from farther on, at no great distance from the tarantass. It was an earnest appeal, evidently from some traveler in distress.
Michael listened attentively. The iemschik also listened, but shook his head, as though it was impossible to help.
“They are travelers calling for aid,” cried Nadia.
“They can expect nothing,” replied the iemschik.
“Why not?” cried Michael. “Ought not we do for them what they would for us under similar circumstances?”
“Surely you will not risk the carriage and horses!”
“I will go on foot,” replied Michael, interrupting the iemschik.
“I will go, too, brother,” said the young girl.
“No, remain here, Nadia. The iemschik will stay with you. I do not wish to leave him alone.”
“I will stay,” replied Nadia.
“Whatever happens, do not leave this spot.”
“You will find me where I now am.”
Michael pressed her hand, and, turning the corner of the slope, disappeared in the darkness.
“Your brother is wrong,” said the iemschik.
“He is right,” replied Nadia simply.
Meanwhile Strogoff strode rapidly on. If he was in a great hurry to aid the travelers, he was also very anxious to know who it was that had not been hindered from starting by the storm; for he had no doubt that the cries came from the telga, which had so long preceded him.
The rain had stopped, but the storm was raging with redoubled fury. The shouts, borne on the air, became more distinct. Nothing was to be seen of the pass in which Nadia remained. The road wound along, and the squalls, checked by the corners, formed eddies highly dangerous, to pass which, without being taken off his legs, Michael had to use his utmost strength.
He soon perceived that the travelers whose shouts he had heard were at no great distance. Even then, on account of the darkness, Michael could not see them, yet he heard distinctly their words.
This is what he heard, and what caused him some surprise: “Are you coming back, blockhead?”
“You shall have a taste of the knout at the next stage.”
“Do you hear, you devil’s postillion! Hullo! Below!”
“This is how a carriage takes you in this country!”
“Yes, this is what you call a telga!”
“Oh, that abominable driver! He goes on and does not appear to have discovered that he has left us behind!”
“To deceive me, too! Me, an honorable Englishman! I will make a complaint at the chancellor’s office and have the fellow hanged.”
This was said in a very angry tone, but was suddenly interrupted by a burst of laughter from his companion, who exclaimed, “Well! this is a good joke, I must say.”
“You venture to laugh!” said the Briton angrily.
“Certainly, my dear confrere, and that most heartily. ‘Pon my word I never saw anything to come up to it.”
Just then a crashing clap of thunder re-echoed through the defile, and then died away among the distant peaks. When the sound of the last growl had ceased, the merry voice went on: “Yes, it undoubtedly is a good joke. This machine certainly never came from France.”
“Nor from England,” replied the other.
On the road, by the light of the flashes, Michael saw, twenty yards from him, two travelers, seated side by side in a most peculiar vehicle, the wheels of which were deeply imbedded in the ruts formed in the road.
He approached them, the one grinning from ear to ear, and the other gloomily contemplating his situation, and recognized them as the two reporters who had been his companions on board the Caucasus.
“Good-morning to you, sir,” cried the Frenchman. “Delighted to see you here. Let me introduce you to my intimate enemy, Mr. Blount.”
The English reporter bowed, and was about to introduce in his turn his companion, Alcide Jolivet, in accordance with the rules of society, when Michael interrupted him.
“Perfectly unnecessary, sir; we already know each other, for we traveled together on the Volga.”
“Ah, yes! exactly so! Mr. —”
“Nicholas Korpanoff, merchant, of Irkutsk. But may I know what has happened which, though a misfortune to your companion, amuses you so much?”
“Certainly, Mr. Korpanoff,” replied Alcide. “Fancy! our driver has gone off with the front part of this confounded carriage, and left us quietly seated in the back part! So here we are in the worse half of a telga; no driver, no horses. Is it not a joke?”
“No joke at all,” said the Englishman.
“Indeed it is, my dear fellow. You do not know how to look at the bright side of things.”
“How, pray, are we to go on?” asked Blount.
“That is the easiest thing in the world,” replied Alcide. “Go and harness yourself to what remains of our cart; I will take the reins, and call you my little pigeon, like a true iemschik, and you will trot off like a real post-horse.”
“Mr. Jolivet,” replied the Englishman, “this joking is going too far, it passes all limits and —”
“Now do be quiet, my dear sir. When you are done up, I will take your place; and call me a broken-winded snail and faint-hearted tortoise if I don’t take you over the ground at a rattling pace.”
Alcide said all this with such perfect good-humor that Michael could not help smiling. “Gentlemen,” said he, “here is a better plan. We have now reached the highest ridge of the Ural chain, and thus have merely to descend the slopes of the mountain. My carriage is close by, only two hundred yards behind. I will lend you one of my horses, harness it to the remains of the telga, and to-mor-how, if no accident befalls us, we will arrive together at Ekaterenburg.”
“That, Mr. Korpanoff,” said Alcide, “is indeed a generous proposal.”
“Indeed, sir,” replied Michael, “I would willingly offer you places in my tarantass, but it will only hold two, and my sister and I already fill it.”
“Really, sir,” answered Alcide, “with your horse and our demi-telga we will go to the world’s end.”
“Sir,” said Harry Blount, “we most willingly accept your kind offer. And, as to that iemschik —”
“Oh! I assure you that you are not the first travelers who have met with a similar misfortune,” replied Michael.
“But why should not our driver come back? He knows perfectly well that he has left us behind, wretch that he is!”
“He! He never suspected such a thing.”
“What! the fellow not know that he was leaving the better half of his telga behind?”
“Not a bit, and in all good faith is driving the fore part into Ekaterenburg.”
“Did I not tell you that it was a good joke, confrere?” cried Alcide.
“Then, gentlemen, if you will follow me,” said Michael, “we will return to my carriage, and —”
“But the telga,” observed the Englishman.
“There is not the slightest fear that it will fly away, my dear Blount!” exclaimed Alcide; “it has taken such good root in the ground, that if it were left here until next spring it would begin to bud.”
“Come then, gentlemen,” said Michael Strogoff, “and we will bring up the tarantass.”
The Frenchman and the Englishman, descending from their seats, no longer the hinder one, since the front had taken its departure, followed Michael.
Walking along, Alcide Jolivet chattered away as usual, with his invariable good-humor. “Faith, Mr. Korpanoff,” said he, “you have indeed got us out of a bad scrape.”
“I have only done, sir,” replied Michael, “what anyone would have done in my place.”
“Well, sir, you have done us a good turn, and if you are going farther we may possibly meet again, and —”
Alcide Jolivet did not put any direct question to Michael as to where he was going, but the latter, not wishing it to be suspected that he had anything to conceal, at once replied, “I am bound for Omsk, gentlemen.”
“Mr. Blount and I,” replied Alcide, “go where danger is certainly to be found, and without doubt news also.”
“To the invaded provinces?” asked Michael with some earnestness.
“Exactly so, Mr. Korpanoff; and we may possibly meet there.”
“Indeed, sir,” replied Michael, “I have little love for cannon-balls or lance points, and am by nature too great a lover of peace to venture where fighting is going on.”
“I am sorry, sir, extremely sorry; we must only regret that we shall separate so soon! But on leaving Ekaterenburg it may be our fortunate fate to travel together, if only for a few days?”
“Do you go on to Omsk?” asked Michael, after a moment’s reflection.
“We know nothing as yet,” replied Alcide; “but we shall certainly go as far as Ishim, and once there, our movements must depend on circumstances.”
“Well then, gentlemen,” said Michael, “we will be fellow-travelers as far as Ishim.”
Michael would certainly have preferred to travel alone, but he could not, without appearing at least singular, seek to separate himself from the tw............