by Jules Verne
CHAPTER VI BROTHER AND SISTER
HOWEVER disastrous these measures might be to private interests, theywere, under the circumstances, perfectly justifiable.
"All Russian subjects are forbidden to leave the province;" if IvanOgareff was still in the province, this would at any rate prevent him,unless with the greatest difficulty, from rejoining Feofar-Khan, andbecoming a very formidable lieutenant to the Tartar chief.
"All foreigners of Asiatic origin are ordered to leave the province infour-and-twenty hours;" this would send off in a body all the tradersfrom Central Asia, as well as the bands of Bohemians, gipsies, etc.,having more or less sympathy with the Tartars. So many heads, so manyspies--undoubtedly affairs required their expulsion.
It is easy to understand the effect produced by these two thunder-clapsbursting over a town like Nijni-Novgorod, so densely crowded withvisitors, and with a commerce so greatly surpassing that of all otherplaces in Russia. The natives whom business called beyond the Siberianfrontier could not leave the province for a time at least. The tenor ofthe first article of the order was express; it admitted of no exception.All private interests must yield to the public weal. As to the secondarticle of the proclamation, the order of expulsion which it containedadmitted of no evasion either. It only concerned foreigners of Asiaticorigin, but these could do nothing but pack up their merchandise andgo back the way they came. As to the mountebanks, of which there were aconsiderable number, they had nearly a thousand versts to go before theycould reach the nearest frontier. For them it was simply misery.
At first there rose against this unusual measure a murmur ofprotestation, a cry of despair, but this was quickly suppressed by thepresence of the Cossacks and agents of police. Immediately, what mightbe called the exodus from the immense plain began. The awnings in frontof the stalls were folded up; the theaters were taken to pieces;the fires were put out; the acrobats' ropes were lowered; the oldbroken-winded horses of the traveling vans came back from their sheds.Agents and soldiers with whip or stick stimulated the tardy ones, andmade nothing of pulling down the tents even before the poor Bohemianshad left them.
Under these energetic measures the square of Nijni-Novgorod would, itwas evident, be entirely evacuated before the evening, and to the tumultof the great fair would succeed the silence of the desert.
It must again be repeated--for it was a necessary aggravation of thesesevere measures--that to all those nomads chiefly concerned in the orderof expulsion even the steppes of Siberia were forbidden, and they wouldbe obliged to hasten to the south of the Caspian Sea, either to Persia,Turkey, or the plains of Turkestan. The post of the Ural, and themountains which form, as it were, a prolongation of the river along theRussian frontier, they were not allowed to pass. They were thereforeunder the necessity of traveling six hundred miles before they couldtread a free soil.
Just as the reading of the proclamation by the head of the policecame to an end, an idea darted instinctively into the mind of MichaelStrogoff. "What a singular coincidence," thought he, "between thisproclamation expelling all foreigners of Asiatic origin, and the wordsexchanged last evening between those two gipsies of the Zingari race.'The Father himself sends us where we wish to go,' that old man said.But 'the Father' is the emperor! He is never called anything else amongthe people. How could those gipsies have foreseen the measure takenagainst them? how could they have known it beforehand, and where do theywish to go? Those are suspicious people, and it seems to me that to themthe government proclamation must be more useful than injurious."
But these reflections were completely dispelled by another which droveevery other thought out of Michael's mind. He forgot the Zingaris,their suspicious words, the strange coincidence which resulted from theproclamation. The remembrance of the young Livonian girl suddenly rushedinto his mind. "Poor child!" he thought to himself. "She cannot nowcross the frontier."
In truth the young girl was from Riga; she was Livonian, consequentlyRussian, and now could not leave Russian territory! The permit whichhad been given her before the new measures had been promulgated was nolonger available. All the routes to Siberia had just been pitilesslyclosed to her, and, whatever the motive taking her to Irkutsk, she wasnow forbidden to go there.
This thought greatly occupied Michael Strogoff. He said to himself,vaguely at first, that, without neglecting anything of what was due tohis important mission, it would perhaps be possible for him to be ofsome use to this brave girl; and this idea pleased him. Knowing howserious were the dangers which he, an energetic and vigorous man, wouldhave personally to encounter, he could not conceal from himself howinfinitely greater they would prove to a young unprotected girl. As shewas going to Irkutsk, she would be obliged to follow the same road ashimself, she would have to pass through the bands of invaders, as he wasabout to attempt doing himself. If, moreover, she had at herdisposal only the money necessary for a journey taken under ordinarycircumstances, how could she manage to accomplish it under conditionswhich made it not only perilous but expensive?
"Well," said he, "if she takes the route to Perm, it is nearlyimpossible but that I shall fall in with her. Then, I will watch overher without her suspecting it; and as she appears to me as anxious asmyself to reach Irkutsk, she will cause me no delay."
But one thought leads to another. Michael Strogoff had till now thoughtonly of doing a kind action; but now another idea flashed into hisbrain; the question presented itself under quite a new aspect.
"The fact is," said he to himself, "that I have much more need of herthan she can have of me. Her presence will be useful in drawing offsuspicion from me. A man traveling alone across the steppe, may beeasily guessed to be a courier of the Czar. If, on the contrary, thisyoung girl accompanies me, I shall appear, in the eyes of all, theNicholas Korpanoff of my podorojna. Therefore, she must accompany me.Therefore, I must find her again at any cost. It is not probable thatsince yesterday evening she has been able to get a carriage and leaveNijni-Novgorod. I must look for her. And may God guide me!"
Michael left the great square of Nijni-Novgorod, where the tumultproduced by the carrying out of the prescribed measures had now reachedits height. Recriminations from the banished strangers, shouts from theagents and Cossacks who were using them so brutally, together made anindescribable uproar. The girl for whom he searched could not be there.It was now nine o'clock in the morning. The steamboat did not start tilltwelve. Michael Strogoff had therefore nearly two hours to employ insearching for her whom he wished to make his traveling companion.
He crossed the Volga again and hunted through the quarters on theother side, where the crowd was much less considerable. He enteredthe churches, the natural refuge for all who weep, for all who suffer.Nowhere did he meet with the young Livonian.
"And yet," he repeated, "she could not have left Nijni-Novgorod yet.We'll have another look." He wandered about thus for two hours. He wenton without stopping, feeling no fatigue, obeying a potent instinct whichallowed no room for thought. All was in vain.
It then occurred to him that perhaps the girl had not heard of theorder--though this was improbable enough, for such a thunder-clap couldnot have burst without being heard by all. Evidently interested inknowing the smallest news from Siberia, how could she be ignorant ofthe measures taken by the governor, measures which concerned her sodirectly?
But, if she was ignorant of it, she would come in an hour to the quay,and there some merciless agent would refuse her a passage! At any cost,he must see her beforehand, and enable her to avoid such a repulse.
But all his endeavors were in vain, and he at length almost despairedof finding her again. It was eleven o'clock, and Michael thought ofpresenting his podorojna at the office of the head of police. Theproclamation evidently did not concern him, since the emergency had beenforeseen for him, but he wished to make sure that nothing would hinderhis departure from the town.
Michael then returned to the other side of the Volga, to the quarterin which was the office of the head of police. An immense crowd
wascollected there; for though all foreigners were ordered to quit theprovince, they had notwithstanding to go through certain forms beforethey could depart.
Without this precaution, some Russian more or less implicated inthe Tartar movement would have been able, in a disguise, to passthe frontier--just those whom the order wished to prevent going. Thestrangers were sent away, but still had to gain permission to go.
Mountebanks, gypsies, Tsiganes, Zingaris, mingled with merchants fromPersia, Turkey, India, Turkestan, China, filled the court and offices ofthe police station.
Everyone was in a hurry, for the means of transport would be much soughtafter among this crowd of banished people, and those who did not setabout it soon ran a great risk of not being able to leave the town inthe prescribed time, which would expose them to some brutal treatmentfrom the governor's agents.
Owing to the strength of his elbows Michael was able to cross the court.But to get into the office and up to the clerk's little window was amuch more difficult business. However, a word into an inspector's earand a few judiciously given roubles were powerful enough to gain him apassage. The man, after taking him into the waiting-room, went to callan upper clerk. Michael Strogoff would not be long in making everythingright with the police and being free in his movements.
Whilst waiting, he looked about him, and what did he see? There, fallen,rather than seated, on a bench, was a girl, prey to a silent despair,although her face could scarcely be seen, the profile alone beingvisible against the wall. Michael Strogoff could not be mistaken. Heinstantly recognized the young Livonian.
Not knowing the governor's orders, she had come to the police officeto get her pass signed. They had refused to sign it. No doubt she wasauthorized to go to Irkutsk, but the order was peremptory--it annulledall previous au-thorizations, and the routes to Siberia were closed toher. Michael, delighted at having found her again, approached the girl.
She looked up for a moment and her face brightened on recognizing hertraveling companion. She instinctively rose and, like a drowning man whoclutches at a spar, she was about to ask his help.
At that moment the agent touched Michael on the shoulder, "The head ofpolice will see you," he said.
"Good," returned Michael. And without saying a word to her for whom hehad been searching all day, without reassuring her by even a gesture,which might compromise either her or himself, he followed the man.
The young Livonian, seeing the only being to whom she could look forhelp disappear, fell back again on her bench.
Three minutes had not passed before Michael Strogoff reappeared,accompanied by the agent. In his hand he held his podorojna, whichthrew open the roads to Siberia for him. He again approached the youngLivonian, and holding out his hand: "Sister," said he.
She understood. She rose as if some sudden inspiration prevented herfrom hesitating a moment.
"Sister," repeated Michael Strogoff, "we are authorized to continue ourjourney to Irkutsk. Will you come with me?"
"I will follow you, brother," replied the girl, putting her hand intothat of Michael Strogoff. And together they left the police station.