He threw his arms round his father's neck, and laid his head on his shoulder. Oh, if he could but remain with him now, and share his prison cell! By this time his eyes had grown used to the darkness, and he could see the dim outline of his father's face. He told him how he had fancied his mother was walking at his side as he came to the jail. "Why not?" said Alexis. "Surely she loves us better than she did while she was here." "But will not this make her miserable?" asked Michael. "Not more miserable than our Lord," he answered; "what He can bear to see, she can bear. They know the end. Your mother has joined the cloud of witnesses which compasses us about; and though they see our afflictions, they also see the far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory laid up for us if we fight a good fight. It is even here a glory and a joy to suffer for Christ's sake." Alexis spoke in a tone of sober gladness. But before he could say more, they heard the voice of Pafnutitch speaking loudly in the corridor. "I'd clean forgotten the lad," he said; "he'll be scared out of his poor wits at being shut up in the dark with a cursed heretic. Come out, my poor boy, come out! Good sakes! This key wants oiling, I can scarcely turn it." He fumbled at the lock for some seconds, giving Michael and his father time for a last embrace and farewell. Michael was breathing hard with stifled sobs as he stumbled out of the cell. "Poor lad! Poor lad!" exclaimed Pafnutitch, catching him by the arm, and hurrying down the corridor, "Scared almost to death! Ay, scared to death! And he was always something of a softy. I'll put him out into the street, and be back in a jiffy." His fellow-warder winked slowly behind his back, and wondered what heavy bribe Pafnutitch had received. If possible, he would make him share it. The vodka had been very good, but that was not what had made Pafnutitch run such a risk as this. Should he report the little incident to the governor? No. They were good friends; besides, Pafnutitch knew too much of what he had done himself. It was best to keep a still tongue in his head. CHAPTER XIII DENYING THE FAITH FOR the next two days, Michael was busy delivering messages his father had sent by him to the brethren living in Kovylsk. He told no one how he had received these messages, for fear of betraying the warder, and thus closing the channel of communication between the prisoners and their friends outside. He could not help suspecting that someone made it worth while to Pafnutitch, though it was against the tenets and the customs of the Stundists to give bribes. Pafnutitch himself declared he ran the risks solely for love.