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"Take my hand then and run--run, Kaya, for the Countess has told Petrokoff; she has told him by now. They'll be hot on our tracks!
This way--to the left of the road! Hold fast to my hand and run, Kaya--run!"
"I will, Velasco, I will!"
"Don't fall--don't stumble!"
"I won't! Which way? I can't see the road."
"Ahead, straight ahead! Hold me faster! Leap as I leap--and if you hear hoofs, sink down in the shadow."
"Yes--yes, Velasco!"
"Ah, run, dearest--run, for the fiends are behind us! I hear hoofs and bells. Run--run!"
[1] The devil take you.
CHAPTER XII
"Who is in the sleigh, Kaya, can you see? Keep low in the shadow and don't move your head."
"The Countess, Velasco, and Petrokoff and two other men."
"Gendarmes?"
"I think they are gendarmes, Velasco. They look from side to side of the road as they pa.s.s and urge the driver forward."
"Bozhe moi, little one! Keep close to me and hold your breath; in another moment they will be past."
"Now--Velasco! Now they are out of sight; the last tinkle of the bells sounds in the distance. Shall we lie here, or follow?"
The gypsey took a long breath and rose to his feet, brus.h.i.+ng the snow from his trousers and coat. The girl still sat crouching behind the drift, peering ahead into the dark windings of the road and listening.
"Come, little one!" said Velasco, "The fields are covered deep with the snow; there are no paths and we cannot go back. Give me your hand.
You will freeze if you linger."
The girl put her hand in his, springing up, and they darted into the dark windings together, making little rushes forward, hand in hand; then poising on one foot and listening.
"They might turn back you know, Velasco."
"Do you hear the bells?"
"Not yet."
Then they ran on.
The night grew darker and darker; the sky was heavy and black with clouds, and between them a faint light flitted occasionally like the ghost of a moon, but feeble and wan. It struggled with the clouds, piercing them for an instant; and then it was gone and the sky grew blacker, like a great inky; surface, reflecting shadows on the snowfields, gigantic and strange. The wind had died down, but the cold was intense, bitter, and the chill of the ice crept into the bones.
"What is that dark thing ahead on the road, can you see, Velasco?"
"Hist--Kaya, I see! It is big and black. It seems to be a house, or an inn, for look--there are lights like stars just appearing."
"Not that, Velasco, look closer, in front of the house; does it look like a sleigh?"
Velasco's grip tightened on the woolen glove of the girl and they halted together, half hesitating.
"A sleigh, Kaya? Stay here in the shadow--I will steal ahead and look."
"Don't leave me; let me go with you!"
The woolen glove clung to him and they went forward again, a step at a time, with eyes straining through the snow.
"Is it the sleigh of the Countess, big and black with three horses abreast?"
"Yes--it looks so."
"Is there some one inside?"
"The driver perhaps! No, there is no one. Velasco, they have gone into the inn to drink something warm and ask questions perhaps--'Have you seen two gypsies, one dark and one fair?'--Ah, Velasco, what shall we do? Shall we creep past on tiptoe?"
The girl drew close to him and looked up in his face. "What shall we do, Velasco--speak! You stand there with your eyes half shut, in a dream. Shall we run, Velasco? Shall we run on ahead?"
The gypsey put his finger to his lips and crept forward. "This is a G.o.d-forsaken hole, Kaya!" he whispered, "No telegraph--and perhaps no horses; they could only get oxen or mules. It will take several minutes to drink their hot tea--and the brutes are quite fres.h.!.+"
He moved cautiously, swiftly, to the hitching post, fumbling with the straps. The horses whinnied a little, nosing one another and pawing the earth.
"What are you doing, Velasco?"
"Jump in, Kaya, jump in--quick, or the driver will hear! Take the fiddle! Ah, the deuce with this knot!"
With a last tug the knot yielded. Velasco dashed to the step and sprang on it; then his knees gave beneath him, and he fell in the snow as the horses leaped forward.
"O--o! Tsyacha chertei! A pest!"
With oaths and shrieks of rage the driver rushed from the kitchen of the inn, wiping the vodka from his beard with his sleeve. From the tea-room three other men rushed forward, also shouting, and behind them the Countess.
"What is it?" she screamed, "Have the horses run away? Where is the sleigh and my buffalo robe? Are they stolen? Catch the thieves--catch them!"
Velasco still lay in the snow, stunned by his fall, a dark patch like a shadow. The sleigh had turned suddenly and veered around, not half a rod distant. Kaya stood with the reins uplifted, dragging back on the bits; and the horses were rearing, plunging, back on their haunches, slipping on the ice.
"Velasco!" she cried, "Velasco!"
Her voice rang out like a trumpet, echoing over the snow; and as she cried, she swept the horses about and lashed them with the whip, until they came leaping and trembling close to the patch on the snow, which had begun to stir slowly, awaking from the swoon.