CHAPTER IX.

A WONDERFUL MEETING—HOW PAMPHIL ESCAPED FROM PRISON.

"ENTER in God's name, my poor little doves," said the woman. "And thou, my husband, make room by the fire for our frozen visitors! Hearest thou, sleepy one? These children are ice-cold, and thou halt been roasting this hour or more and now art done to a turn." And she laughed softly.

Bert crossed the threshold and entered the hut, but Alf still stood outside, his arm through Sharik's rein.

"Good dame," said he, "what shall I do with my pony? He has carried us both so bravely, and now is even more spent and weary than we are ourselves. We have food for him and also for us, so we need not to be chargeable to thee and thy husband. Only let us rest a while, and have some boiling water for our tea, and to make a mash for Sharik, and at noon we go forward again to the big oil zavot."

Here the man by the stove made an uneasy movement and turned his head away.

"The big oil zavot?" repeated he. "With the English manager?"

"Yes. Knowest thou the place and him?" asked All.

"Seest thou not, oh, my husband," said the woman, "that thou art keeping the young gentleman outside—him and his horse? Come in, young sir, and since we have no stable or other shelter than this, let the pony enter with you. He is not vicious, I suppose?"

"Vicious! Our Sharik?" cried both lads at once. "See here, good dame!"

"Lie down, Sharik!" said Alf, laying one hand on his mane and the other gently on his stout little knees, which were trembling now with fatigue and fear. The pony put his face up to Alf's, and rubbed his velvet nose against the boy's cheek; then, obediently, he bent his knees and lay down contentedly in a corner.

"There, kind soul, thou seest what sort of a pet he is! Our fitter and friend, Stepan, says that Sharik is like a human being for sense, and like an angel for temper."

"Your fitter and friend, Stepan, young gentlemen?" exclaimed the man, who had hitherto kept his face away from the light, and had stolen only a glance or two at the young visitors.

"Yes, knowest thou him?" cried Alf. "We thought him at first our enemy, like Anton and Gavril of the Red-scar; but afterwards, he proved himself our friend."

"Yes," put in Bert, "and he would fain have come homeward with us, but that he felt he must go and seek his brother in prison, and see how he fared."

At this the man sprang to his feet in uncontrollable agitation, and faced the children in the light of the lamp.

Both Alf and Bert uttered an exclamation of amazement, and then stood staring at him for a minute, unable to say a word.

At last Alf cried out joyfully: "By all that is wonderful—thou must be—thou art—that very brother of Stepan's whom he went to see! Yes—I remember thee well! Thou art Pamphil!"

"It is true, young sir," rejoined the man, "I am Pamphil!"

"But how didst thou escape from prison?" inquired Alf.

"Ask my Sonia there," replied Pamphil.

"It was like this, young sir," said Sonia. "I had a cousin, a warder in the prison, and he had pity on my husband. We had only been married a week when he was put in gaol, and for something he did not do."

"Did not do?" echoed Bert.

"No; another made the murderous assault, but being fleet of foot, he escaped. My husband had been drinking, and did not know what was going on, and so was arrested for the other man's fault, because he was the only one present. There was no proper trial; perhaps there never would have been. Well—my cousin Vassia was a warder, and he bribed Pamphil's warder with my gold cross (which had been in our family for eighty years) to let my husband escape. Pamphil came straight here to me.

"My father is a woodman, and this is his hut where he sleeps when he is wood-cutting. Here we are safe. And now and then, I go to our village for flour, and salt, and butter and tea, and Pamphil sometimes snares a hare or shoots a bird, and so we manage to live. And I am happy, because he has given up the drink, and says he will never take any again."

"That is true, Sonia, but with all this talk we are keeping our guests from their refreshment and from the sleep they so much need."

It was almost sunset of a brilliant winter's afternoon, and the boys and Sharik were still asleep. For though Alf had thought to start for home at noon, Sonia found him and Bert sleeping so soundly that she had not the heart to wake them.

And she had just gone to the door to look out for a moment, when a one-horse sledge, with a man in it, drew up before the hut. Sonia gave a cry of joy, and opened the door wide.

"Come here, Pamphil!" she said, hushing her voice to a whisper, remembering the children.

Pamphil reached the doorway just as the man had got out of the sledge, and they met on the threshold.

"Thou, Stepan!"

"Thou, Pamphil!"

And then the two brothers fell on each other's necks, and kissed in true Russian fashion.

"I went to the prison," said Stepan. "And there I saw Sonia's cousin, who told me of thine escape. And of course I knew that thou must hide for a time, and yet wouldest wish to be with thy wife."