4. A Story of Brigands

Maroussia was silent for a moment. Her little hand trembled in the large hand of the Envoy. He had noticed it before. The story was too horrible; he reproached himself for having urged his poor little guide to relate it. They continued walking. The grass and reeds rustled on the bank of the tranquil river; the breeze scarcely stirred them.

“Let us stop here in this story,” said the Envoy to Maroussia; “it will make you ill to continue to the end, especially if it is more terrible.”

“More terrible, perhaps, but what does it matter? ” she said. “It is the end which you must know in order to understand my idea.” And courageously she continued:

“The young wife had much to reflect upon, in what she had just discovered. She implored God to guide and protect her.

“First of all, she must get out of this frightful cave. She ascended the stairway, replaced the trap-door, put the lantern in its place, fastened the door well behind her and, more dead than alive, re-entered her room. She was a hundred times more unhappy since her discovery, and yet she no longer wanted to die, she wished to escape.

“But how to do so?”

Here Maroussia trembled. A noise was heard, a sound of someone or of something which had fallen or had been thrown into the water.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the Envoy, “it is some animal, an otter perhaps who wished to cross the river; or a large fish, who jumped out of the water and leaped higher than usual.” “Yes, yes,” said Maroussia, “that is all.” And returning at once to her story:

“‘How to escape indeed,’ said the young woman. The inextricable forest surrounded her home on every side. No outlet could be seen. Certainly, she could force her way at the risk of great injury through the heavy underbrush. But, after that, would she know which way to go? It is so easy to lose oneself in a great forest! Who could tell, if, after a long day’s walk, she would not find herself at the very place from which she had started, and in sight of her angry husband? ‘How to escape, how to escape,’ she repeated to herself.

“Even should I perish in the attempt, she said at last, “I must try; I will run away!’”

“That is what I call courage,” said the Envoy.

In spite of the grave anxieties which beset him, he was very attentive to the recital of his little companion. By the manner in which he from time to time added a word, Maroussia saw this, and it gave her great pleasure.

It will divert his attention, she thought.