by Jules Verne
CHAPTER III MICHAEL STROGOFF MEETS THE CZAR
THE door of the imperial cabinet was again opened and General Kissoffwas announced.
"The courier?" inquired the Czar eagerly.
"He is here, sire," replied General Kissoff.
"Have you found a fitting man?"
"I will answer for him to your majesty."
"Has he been in the service of the Palace?"
"Yes, sire."
"You know him?"
"Personally, and at various times he has fulfilled difficult missionswith success."
"Abroad?"
"In Siberia itself."
"Where does he come from?"
"From Omsk. He is a Siberian."
"Has he coolness, intelligence, courage?"
"Yes, sire; he has all the qualities necessary to succeed, even whereothers might possibly fail."
"What is his age?"
"Thirty."
"Is he strong and vigorous?"
"Sire, he can bear cold, hunger, thirst, fatigue, to the very lastextremities."
"He must have a frame of iron."
"Sire, he has."
"And a heart?"
"A heart of gold."
"His name?"
"Michael Strogoff."
"Is he ready to set out?"
"He awaits your majesty's orders in the guard-room."
"Let him come in," said the Czar.
In a few moments Michael Strogoff, the courier, entered the imperiallibrary. He was a tall, vigorous, broad-shouldered, deep-chested man.His powerful head possessed the fine features of the Caucasian race. Hiswell-knit frame seemed built for the performance of feats of strength.It would have been a difficult task to move such a man against his will,for when his feet were once planted on the ground, it was as if they hadtaken root. As he doffed his Muscovite cap, locks of thick curly hairfell over his broad, massive forehead. When his ordinarily pale facebecame at all flushed, it arose solely from a more rapid action of theheart. His eyes, of a deep blue, looked with clear, frank, firm gaze.The slightly-contracted eyebrows indicated lofty heroism--"the hero'scool courage," according to the definition of the physiologist. Hepossessed a fine nose, with large nostrils; and a well-shaped mouth,with the slightly-projecting lips which denote a generous and nobleheart.
Michael Strogoff had the temperament of the man of action, who does notbite his nails or scratch his head in doubt and indecision. Sparing ofgestures as of words, he always stood motionless like a soldier beforehis superior; but when he moved, his step showed a firmness, a freedomof movement, which proved the confidence and vivacity of his mind.
Michael Strogoff wore a handsome military uniform something resemblingthat of a light-cavalry officer in the field--boots, spurs, halftightly-fitting trousers, brown pelisse, trimmed with fur and ornamentedwith yellow braid. On his breast glittered a cross and several medals.
Michael Strogoff belonged to the special corps of the Czar's couriers,ranking as an officer among those picked men. His most discerniblecharacteristic--particularly in his walk, his face, in the whole man,and which the Czar perceived at a glance--was, that he was "a fulfillerof orders." He therefore possessed one of the most serviceable qualitiesin Russia--one which, as the celebrated novelist Tourgueneff says, "willlead to the highest positions in the Muscovite empire."
In short, if anyone could accomplish this journey from Moscow toIrkutsk, across a rebellious country, surmount obstacles, and braveperils of all sorts, Michael Strogoff was the man.
A circumstance especially favorable to the success of his plan was,that he was thoroughly acquainted with the country which he was aboutto traverse, and understood its different dialects--not only from havingtraveled there before, but because he was of Siberian origin.
His father--old Peter Strogoff, dead ten years since--inhabited the townof Omsk, situated in the government of the same name; and his mother,Marfa Strogoff, lived there still. There, amid the wild steppes of theprovinces of Omsk and Tobolsk, had the famous huntsman brought uphis son Michael to endure hardship. Peter Strogoff was a huntsman byprofession. Summer and winter--in the burning heat, as well as whenthe cold was sometimes fifty degrees below zero--he scoured the frozenplains, the thickets of birch and larch, the pine forests; settingtraps; watching for small game with his gun, and for large game with thespear or knife. The large game was nothing less than the Siberian bear,a formidable and ferocious animal, in size equaling its fellow of thefrozen seas. Peter Strogoff had killed more than thirty-nine bears--thatis to say, the fortieth had fallen under his blows; and, according toRussian legends, most huntsmen who have been lucky enough up to thethirty-ninth bear, have succumbed to the fortieth.
Peter Strogoff had, however, passed the fatal number without even ascratch. From that time, his son Michael, aged eleven years, neverfailed to accompany him to the hunt, carrying the ragatina or spear toaid his father, who was armed only with the knife. When he was fourteen,Michael Strogoff had killed his first bear, quite alone--that wasnothing; but after stripping it he dragged the gigantic animal's skin tohis father's house, many versts distant, exhibiting remarkable strengthin a boy so young.
This style of life was of great benefit to him, and when he arrivedat manhood he could bear any amount of cold, heat, hunger, thirst, orfatigue. Like the Yakout of the northern countries, he was made of iron.He could go four-and-twenty hours without eating, ten nights withoutsleeping, and could make himself a shelter in the open steppe whereothers would have been frozen to death. Gifted with marvelous acuteness,guided by the instinct of the Delaware of North America, over the whiteplain, when every object is hidden in mist, or even in higher latitudes,where the polar night is prolonged for many days, he could find his waywhen others would have had no idea whither to turn. All his father'ssecrets were known to him. He had learnt to read almost imperceptiblesigns--the forms of icicles, the appearance of the small branches oftrees, mists rising far away in the horizon, vague sounds in the air,distant reports, the flight of birds through the foggy atmosphere, athousand circumstances which are so many words to those who can decipherthem. Moreover, tempered by snow like a Damascus blade in the waters ofSyria, he had a frame of iron, as General Kissoff had said, and, whatwas no less true, a heart of gold.
The only sentiment of love felt by Michael Strogoff was that which heentertained for his mother, the aged Marfa, who could never be inducedto leave the house of the Strogoffs, at Omsk, on the banks of theIrtish, where the old huntsman and she had lived so long together. Whenher son left her, he went away with a full heart, but promising to comeand see her whenever he could possibly do so; and this promise he hadalways religiously kept.
When Michael was twenty, it was decided that he should enter thepersonal service of the Emperor of Russia, in the corps of the couriersof the Czar. The hardy, intelligent, zealous, well-conducted youngSiberian first distinguished himself especially, in a journey to theCaucasus, through the midst of a difficult country, ravaged by somerestless successors of Schamyl; then later, in an important missionto Petropolowski, in Kamtschatka, the extreme limit of Asiatic Russia.During these long journeys he displayed such marvelous coolness,prudence, and courage, as to gain him the approbation and protection ofhis chiefs, who rapidly advanced him in his profession.
The furloughs which were his due after these distant missions, he neverfailed to devote to his old mother. Having been much employed in thesouth of the empire, he had not seen old Marfa for three years--threeages!--the first time in his life he had been so long absent from her.Now, however, in a few days he would obtain his furlough, and he hadaccordingly already made preparations for departure for Omsk, when theevents which have been related occurred. Michael Strogoff was thereforeintroduced into the Czar's presence in complete ignorance of what theemperor expected from him.
The Czar fixed a penetrating look upon him without uttering a word,whilst Michael stood perfectly motionless.
The Czar, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, motioned to the chiefof polic
e to seat himself, and dictated in a low voice a letter of notmore than a few lines.
The letter penned, the Czar re-read it attentively, then signed it,preceding his name with the words "Byt po semou," which, signifying "Sobe it," constitutes the decisive formula of the Russian emperors.
The letter was then placed in an envelope, which was sealed with theimperial arms.
The Czar, rising, told Michael Strogoff to draw near.
Michael advanced a few steps, and then stood motionless, ready toanswer.
The Czar again looked him full in the face and their eyes met. Then inan abrupt tone, "Thy name?" he asked.
"Michael Strogoff, sire."
"Thy rank?"
"Captain in the corps of couriers of the Czar."
"Thou dost know Siberia?"
"I am a Siberian."
"A native of?"
"Omsk, sire."
"Hast thou relations there?"
"Yes sire."
"What relations?"
"My old mother."
The Czar suspended his questions for a moment. Then, pointing to theletter which he held in his hand, "Here is a letter which I charge thee,Michael Strogoff, to deliver into the hands of the Grand Duke, and to noother but him."
"I will deliver it, sire."
"The Grand Duke is at Irkutsk."
"I will go to Irkutsk."
"Thou wilt have to traverse a rebellious country, invaded by Tartars,whose interest it will be to intercept this letter."
"I will traverse it."
"Above all, beware of the traitor, Ivan Ogareff, who will perhaps meetthee on the way."
"I will beware of him."
"Wilt thou pass through Omsk?"
"Sire, that is my route."
"If thou dost see thy mother, there will be the risk of beingrecognized. Thou must not see her!"
Michael Strogoff hesitated a moment.
"I will not see her," said he.
"Swear to me that nothing will make thee acknowledge who thou art, norwhither thou art going."
"I swear it."
"Michael Strogoff," continued the Czar, giving the letter to the youngcourier, "take this letter; on it depends the safety of all Siberia, andperhaps the life of my brother the Grand Duke."
"This letter shall be delivered to his Highness the Grand Duke."
"Then thou wilt pass whatever happens?"
"I shall pass, or they shall kill me."
"I want thee to live."
"I shall live, and I shall pass," answered Michael Strogoff.
The Czar appeared satisfied with Strogoff's calm and simple answer.
"Go then, Michael Strogoff," said he, "go for God, for Russia, for mybrother, and for myself!"
The courier, having saluted his sovereign, immediately left the imperialcabinet, and, in a few minutes, the New Palace.
"You made a good choice there, General," said the Czar.
"I think so, sire," replied General Kissoff; "and your majesty may besure that Michael Strogoff will do all that a man can do."
"He is indeed a man," said the Czar.