He watched the silent and rapid movements of the boys, and saw them give the sleeping child into the stretched out arms of the woman whose shadow he had seen. They were only going to steal Clava away. He knew the vital importance of this step for Khariton Kondraty's family. If they remained in Knishi, to-morrow they would be plunged into the direst distress. The boys were doing the best thing in their power. Should he hinder them? "No!" he said to himself. "God help them!" It was Paraska who received little Clava into her arms; for the boys had not ventured to tell Tatiania of their desperate scheme. Michael and Paraska were to start at daybreak in the telega for Kovylsk, and the child could easily be concealed at the bottom of the cart, till they were far enough away to be no longer afraid of detection. Once in Kovylsk, Clava could be included in the convoy, as Kondraty's children, three in number, were entered on the list. They started at the first streak of dawn, calling at Tatiania's house, that she might see for herself that little Clava was with them. Michael was so much excited that he scarcely thought how he was leaving home again, this time probably for ever. Sleep was farther than ever from Father Cyril's eyes, after what he had seen. He felt almost as if he was a boy again, rejoicing with the boys' joy over the success of their enterprise. At any rate, the burden of Kondraty's family would now be taken from him. He had never before been in a parish containing heretics. He was known throughout the diocese as a very estimable and successful parish priest in country places. And in consequence he had been chosen to follow Father Vasili, and had been sent to Knishi to wage war with the Stundists. He came willingly, with high courage and confident hope. But instead of finding blasphemous, ignorant, and godless people, he met with devout and simple Christians, better grounded in the Scriptures than himself, though ready to listen to him with respectful attention. Now he saw and shrank from the pitiless spirit of persecution. He had never been face to face with it before. Well might our Lord say to His disciples, who wished to command fire to come down from heaven on the Samaritans, "Ye know not what spirit ye are of." Father Cyril understood now the spirit of persecution, and he quailed before it. It might turn cowards into hypocrites, but it could not make true men forswear their consciences. When the Matoushka awoke in the morning, Father Cyril was up and dressed. His eyes looked heavy, and his whole appearance was dejected. "Clava is gone to see her mother," he said briefly; "do not speak of her to anybody, my dear wife. Take Velia and our little ones into the forest for the day. I do not wish them to see the women and children setting off." "Is Clava going with her mother?" asked the Matoushka, who sympathised deeply with Tatiania. "It is not quite settled yet," he replied.