Loosing the Bonds
SERGEY waited and watched until, overcome with vodki fumes, all the men
were lying round helpless, and many of them snoring. Not till then did
he feel it safe to give up his anxious peering in at the window and
steal down to the shed. Very slowly and softly he drew back the bolt,
making no noise.
"It is I—Sergey," he whispered. "Here is my knife! Let me cut your
bonds. Be very still and come quickly down to the bank. The 'Swan' is
there quite safe."
Chafing their stiff and swollen arms, the four men stole out of the
shed and followed the lad down to the river. There was the "Swan"
untouched. So secure in his possession of it had Issakoff felt himself
that he had not removed even a single thing from the cabin.
In fear and trembling, in such haste as they could combine with absence
of noise, they got on board, and loosed the raft from her moorings. And
as they pushed off with the boat-hook into mid-stream, the old skipper
sobbed like a child, and his sons cried too for company.
But Sergey was too happy for tears; he was overcome with thankfulness.
Kneeling down bareheaded on the deck, he poured out his prayer out of a
full, glad heart.
"O dear, kind Lord," he said, "it is quite true what we have heard—that
Thou deliverest those that look unto Thee; for lo, Thou hast delivered
us as Thou didst Thy servant Daniel in the lion's den, and the three
Hebrew youths in the fiery furnace, and St. Peter in the prison, and
David from the giant. And now, good God, we thank and bless Thee, that
here we are before Thee, under Thine open sky, and on our dear raft
once more. Watch over us still, we pray; protect us all the way, and
teach us to love Thee better and to trust Thee wholly. Forgive us all
our sins, and make us truly Thy children, for Christ's sake."
"Amen," said four husky men's voices.
And the lad, opening his eyes, saw Ivan and his sons all reverently
kneeling, and realised that it had been given him to voice a prayer for
them all.
"And now," said Sergey, "I am sure you must be needing food, as I am
myself. So I go to prepare supper," and he vanished into the cabin.
The next place they came to was a large straggling village, and here
they bought butter and vegetables, and Ivan called on the chief man
there, related the adventure of the night before, and begged him to
telegraph back at once to the town so that the authorities should take
measures to prevent such a thing happening again.
"For," he added, "we have other rafts following shortly, and unless
safety be assured to us, we must make formal complaint at the capital,
and have proper inquiry, and Issakoff and his men put under arrest."
At this, the elder of the village promised to attend to everything, and
made a note of the name and the address of the owner of the saw-mill.
And now the raft was once more ready to start, and Kostia was just
going to push off when a woman, accompanied by a girl of about Sergey's
age, hurried down to the water's edge.
"Stop a minute—only a minute!" she cried. "I want to ask a question."
"Quick, then, Matushka," said Ivan; "we must be off at once."
"I will not keep thee long," pleaded the stranger. "Tell me, please,
whence comes thy raft?"
"From far up the river—a place in the forest called Glynoi-Liess,"
replied Ivan.
"Hast thou," asked the woman, "ever met thereabouts a man called Abram
Kapoostin?"
"Again that abhorred name!" rapped out the old man impatiently. "Of
course, yes, my good woman, I know him—more's the pity! For there are
some kinds of knowledge that we should be better without."
"Hear my reason for asking," said the woman. "Years ago now a man came
to this village one day with a child—his little daughter."
At this, Sergey eagerly turned his head and listened.
"I had a small shop in the village," the woman went on, "and he came in
and bought a loaf and some kringles on a string, and then said, 'Good
Matushka, might I leave my little girl with you just while I make a
call or two on business? I will return in an hour.'
"'Thou must tell me thy name first,' I said.
"'I am Abram Kapoostin,' he answered, 'and this is my little daughter,
Dunia. My wife is dead, and I am going to try and make a new home
somewhere up the river.'
"'Very well,' I said, 'leave the child then, if thou wilt, but leave
also that bundle thou hast on thine arm. It will be safe here, and
would only cumber thee in thy visits.'
"So, very unwillingly, and with a hateful look on his ugly face, he
handed me the bundle, after first taking from it some things and
stuffing them into his pockets. Then, with not so much as a 'thank
you,' he went his way, and from that day to this I have never seen him
again. Believe me, this is the truth!"
"Believe thee? Of course!" cried Ivan. "I know the man well enough, and
he is a walking lie. Is this his child? A nice girl, and, thank God,
not like her father in face!"
"I love her and would not part from her," said the woman, "but my
health has failed, and I can no longer work for our living. A married
sister would have me live with her, but she will not have Dunia, and I
know not what to do with her."
"But," said Ivan, "thou wouldst not send her back to her father,
surely?"
"And, besides," put in Kostia, "he is no longer at Glynoi-Liess, and we
know not where he is."
"Why not take her to her mother?" spoke up Sergey. "She is not so very
far off, only at Krasnoi-Puil with the Kierayoffs, Number 10 Black
Street."
The old skipper turned round in astonishment. "And pray, whence hast
thou learnt all this, Sergey?" said he.
"Ach, Batiuska," said Kostia, "all this happened while I was skipper.
We will tell thee about it presently."
"Good! Then now we can start. Do thou, good Matushka, take the girl to
her mother at Krasnoi-Puil, so shall all be well. And now, farewell!"
The rest of the voyage was through more civilised regions, and no
serious mishaps befell the "Swan." Once the raft was nearly run down by
a steamer. And on another occasion, while moored to the bank, she was
suddenly boarded for a moment by a runaway horse. But it only touched
its flying hoofs to the deck, and splashed wildly into the water on the
other side, and as the crew was in the cabin at supper, no one was hurt.
The remainder of the journey along the waterway was tedious and
uninteresting, and the little party of five was glad enough to reach
their destination—one of the larger cities—and to consign their raft to
its rightful owner. As soon as they had done this, they began to make
tracks for home, and left all together by the first cargo boat that was
going a few miles upstream.