University of Virginia Library

15. XV.

WE found ourselves over a flat shore. To the left extended endlessly, mown meadows with enormous hay-stacks here and there; to the right, just as endlessly, spread the glassy surface of a broad stream. A little way out from shore some boats swung duskily at their moorings,

their slender masts swaying to and fro like idly pointing fingers. From one of these boats came the tones of the pathetic song that had fallen on my ear. On the same boat a fire was burning, whose long red reflection quivered along the water like a snake. Here and there, both on the water and on the land, but whether far or near the eye could not determine, was the glow of other fires; sometimes low, sometimes brilliantly blazing. Countless crickets were chirping away, recalling without resembling the noise of the frogs in the Pontine Marshes, and from time to time the dim, low-bending heavens rang with the mystical cry of some unfamiliar bird.

"We are in Russia?" I asked of Ellis.

"That is the Volga," she replied.

We pursued our way along its shore. "Why did you snatch me away from that glorious spot?" I began. "What was your grudge? It is not possible that you were jealous?"

Ellis's lips moved a little, and there was a threatening flash of her eye. But her features took directly their usual fixed expression.

"Take me home," I demanded.

"Nay, wait," Ellis said, imploringly. "To-night is a night of marvels, and the opportunity will not soon return. You shall witness—only wait."

And we took sudden flight obliquely across the Volga, low, close to the water and darting like two swallows before a storm. Under us surged the billows, a cutting wind struck us in powerful gusts, and soon the lofty bank began to ride before us. Steep cliffs, jagged with deep ravines appeared, to one of which we drew near.

"Shout 'Sarin Nakitschu'!"[note] breathed Ellis in my ear.

I thought of the panic that I had experienced at the appearance of the Roman legions; I felt, besides, weariness and a curious sense of gloom, and I struggled to resist the saying of the fatal words, sure beforehand that at their repetition something alarming would come to pass. But half against my will my lips unclosed and I called in the same unwilling manner, with a voice that was weak and thin "'Sarin Nakitschu'!"