X. MOTHERS AND CHILDREN XI. A HARD WINTER XII. A FRIENDLY JAILER XIII. DENYING THE FAITH XIV. LITTLE CLAVA XV. BLESSING THE HERETICS XVI. IN KOVYLSK. XVII. FATHER CYRIL'S LETTER XVIII. THE FORWARDING PRISON XIX. THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD XX. SERGIUS XXI. MARFA'S FUNERAL XXII. THE PRISON HOSPITAL XXIII. MONTH AFTER MONTH XXIV. THE EXILES' BEGGING SONG XXV. SLEEP AND DEATH XXVI. THE END OF THE JOURNEY XXVII. DEMYAN'S TIDINGS XXVIII. THE SEED OF THE CHURCH XXIX. A YOKE OF BONDAGE XXX. VELIA'S TYRANTS XXXI. RESCUED XXXII. A LETTER PROM SIBERIA IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HAND [Illustration] CHAPTER I THE SCOTCH COVENANTERS "BEHOLD, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." The boy who was reading in a clear, low voice, though with a foreign accent, felt the pressure of his mother's feeble hands, and lifted up his eyes to her white and placid face. He was kneeling beside her bed, and she pushed back the thick curls of his brown hair, and looked with a very tender gaze into his frank, boyish face. "That's true, my laddie," she said; "true for you, but not for me. He calls me home, but He sends your father and you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves. Ah! The Lord Jesus knew; and He knows now. Never think He's away, and not minding your troubles. You'll go back to your father, when I'm gone home—not to Knishi, never again to Knishi. Oh, if I'd only known, I'd have gone home to heaven from there!" The feeble, gasping voice ceased for a minute or two. But the mother's eyes still rested fondly and anxiously on her boy. "And, oh, my Michael," she said, "be wise! Don't anger the neighbours more than you can help. You're only a boy yet, and they'll leave you alone if you keep quiet. Be 'harmless as doves,' says our Lord." "But you wouldn't have me a coward, mother," answered the boy somewhat hotly. "Me, Michael? Me?" she cried, a faint colour flushing her pallid face. "No, no! Weren't my ain forebears among the Covenanters? Both on father's and mother's sides! Didn't they suffer the loss o' all things—eh! and die for conscience' sake? Nay, Michael, I'd send you to death, if need be, for the truth. But it's hard to think of young little ones having to suffer cruelly because their parents must act according to their conscience. Oh, my Michael! And my little Velia!"