She knelt down, and began to work with all her might. But her hands were as
delicate as osiers. She had no strength. She threw down the stone, and
burst into tears.
Zhilin again tried to break the lock, and Dina squatted by his side, and
leaned against his shoulder. Zhilin glanced up, and saw at the left behind
the mountain a red glow like a fire; it was the moon just rising.
"Well," he says to himself, "I must cross the valley and get into the woods
before the moon rises." He stood up, and threw away the stone. No matter
for the clog--he must take it with him.
"Good-by," says he. "Dínushka, I shall always remember you."
Dina clung to him, reached with her hands for a place to stow away some
cakes. He took the cakes.
"Thank you," said he: "you are a thoughtful darling. Who will make you
dolls after I am gone?" and he stroked her hair.
Dina burst into tears, hid her face in her hands, and scrambled up the
hillside like a kid. He could hear, in the darkness, the jingling of the
coins on her braids.
Zhilin crossed himself, picked up the lock of his clog so that it might not
make a noise, and started on his way, dragging his leg all the time, and
keeping his eyes constantly on the glow where the moon was rising.
He knew the way. He had eight versts to go in a direct course, but he would
have to strike into the forest before the moon came entirely up. He crossed
the stream, and now the light was increasing behind the mountain.
He proceeded along the valley: it was growing light. He walks along,
constantly glancing around; but still the moon was not visible. The glow
was now changing to white light, and one side of the valley grew brighter
and brighter. The shadow crept away from the mountain till it reached its
very foot.
Zhilin still hurried along, all the time keeping to the shadow.
He hurries as fast as he can, but the moon rises still faster; and now, at
the right, the mountain-tops are illuminated.
He struck into the forest just as the moon rose above the mountains. It
became as light and white as day. On the trees all the leaves were visible.
It was warm and bright on the mountain-side; every thing seemed as though
it were dead. The only sound was the roaring of a torrent far below. He
walked along in the forest; he had met no one. Zhilin found a little spot
in the forest where it was still darker, and began to rest.
While he rested he ate one of his cakes. He procured a stone and once more
tried to break the padlock, but he only bruised his hands, and failed to
break the lock.
He arose and went on his way. When he had gone a verst his strength gave
out, his feet were sore. He had to walk ten steps at a time, and then rest.
"There's nothing to be done for it," says he to himself. "I will push on as
long as my strength holds out; for if I sit down, then I shall not get up
again. If I do not reach the fortress before it is daylight, then I will
lie down in the woods and spend the day, and start on to-morrow night
again."
He walked all night. Once he passed two Tatars on horseback, but he heard
them at some distance, and hid behind a tree.
Already the moon was beginning to pale, the dew had fallen, it was near
dawn, and Zhilin had not reached the end of the forest.
"Well," says he to himself, "I will go thirty steps farther, strike into
the forest, and sit down."
He went thirty steps, and sees the end of the forest. He went to the edge;
it was broad daylight. Before him, as on the palm of his hand, were the
steppe and the fortress; and on the left, not far away on the
mountain-side, fires were burning, or dying out; the smoke rose, and men
were moving around the watch-fires.
He looks, and sees the gleaming of fire-arms: Cossacks, soldiers!
Zhilin was overjoyed.
He gathered his remaining strength, and walked down the mountain. And he
says to himself, "God help me, if a mounted Tatar should get sight of me on
this bare field! I should not escape him, even though I am so near." Even
while these thoughts are passing through his mind, he sees at the left, on
a hillock not fourteen hundred feet away, three Tatars on the watch. They
caught sight of him,--bore down upon him. Then his heart failed within him.
Waving his arms, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Brothers! help,
brothers!"
Our men heard him,--mounted Cossacks dashed out toward him. The Cossacks
were far off, the Tatars near. And now Zhilin collected his last remaining
energies, seized his clog with his hand, ran toward the Cossacks, and,
without any consciousness of feeling, crossed himself and cried, "Brothers,
brothers, brothers!"
The Cossacks were fifteen in number.
The Tatars were dismayed. Before they reached him, they stopped short. And
Zhilin reached the Cossacks.
The Cossacks surrounded him, and questioned him: "Who are you?" "What is
your name?" "Where did you come from?"
But Zhilin was almost beside himself; he wept, and kept on shouting,
"Brothers, brothers!"
The soldiers hastened up, and gathered around him; one brought him bread,
another kasha-gruel, another vodka, another threw a cloak around him, still
another broke his chains.
The officers recognized him, they brought him into the fortress. The
soldiers were delighted, his comrades pressed into Zhilin's room.
Zhilin told them what had happened to him, and he ended his tale with the
words,--
"That's the way I went home and got married! No, I see that such is not to
be my fate."
And he remained in the service in the Caucasus.
At the end of a month Kostuilin was ransomed for five thousand rubles.
He was brought home scarcely alive.
* * * * *