5. The Flight

It was still night, but the morning breeze could already be felt. From a convent in the distance they could hear the bell for matins; the reeds on the bank of the river waved and rustled; the waters of the river, until now very quiet, meeting rocks which obstructed their way, began to ripple, boil, and dash with a loud noise into a kind of abyss.

“We must turn to the left,” said Maroussia.

Two minutes later they were on the steppe.

They had walked thus far on the bank of the river, most of the time, shaded by the trees which grew on it.

Maroussia and the Envoy, although very hurried, stopped involuntarily to draw a full breath of the invigorating and sweet air of the steppe.

“Look this way,” said Maroussia. “That dark spot yonder is the stable of which I told you. Now we must turn once more to the left, the oxen are there.”

“Let us turn then,” said the Envoy.

The steppe spread itself out before them . until lost to sight; high stacks of hay, freshly piled, alone attracted attention.

The Envoy mounted upon one of these hay-stacks to examine the horizon.

“Do not stand up!” Maroussia called to him: “you are too tall; they can see you at a distance like a tower.”

Everything seemed quiet. The Envoy motioned to Maroussia to come up to him, and wanted to help her climb; but it was unnecessary, in an instant she was beside him.

“You have wings,” said the Envoy.

“Father calls me his little squirrel,” the child answered with pride.

She looked also, but only in one direction, toward the house of her parents.

“Can you see down there?” she said, “can you see? Look for me, I cannot see very well just now, but it seems to me that everything is quiet.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Envoy, “everything seems to speak peace.”

“They are sleeping, all those whom I love, after having prayed for us, I am very sure; let us pray for them.” And the child’s moist eyes were upraised toward heaven.