"Let the boys take charge of it," she continued, still whispering, "fifty roubles to Michael, and fifty to Sergius. They are both as wise and prudent as men. Oh, they've been a great comfort to us, good boys! There 'll not be too much to divide among you when you reach Irkutsk; only there you'll soon get work." "I will ask Alexis to-morrow," said Khariton. "Then my mind will be quite easy," she murmured; "I should have died to-day, only I prayed the Lord to spare me until I could give up my trust. Now I shall have nothing to think of but how blessed we shall be when we are all together again, with the Lord. We were very happy in Knishi, husband!" "We were," he replied with a sob. "We might have been happy in Irkutsk," she went on, "but I'm worn-out, body and mind. I long to get away out of this world. You'll let Clava and me go?" "God's will be done!" he said. CHAPTER XXV SLEEP AND DEATH TO Michael and Sergius it was a solemn charge to be entrusted with the funds on which the Stundists were to subsist when they reached their journey's end. To be sure, the convicts would still have the miserable pittance allowed by the Government, but this would not suffice for the women and children who accompanied them. Tatiania found an opportunity the next day to stitch the rouble notes into the boys' coats. It was a busy day; the baggage-waggons were unloaded, and winter clothes got out. But they were damp and mildewed, for the rain and snow had saturated the bags. The convicts receive their winter equipment from the Government stores, which were at least dry and warm. They set out again in renewed spirits. It was well for the Stundists that Tatiania's precaution had been carried into effect. A day or two after they started, and were crossing the exposed steppe, over which a searching and freezing north wind was blowing, Sergius and Michael went as usual at the midday halt to carry food to Tatiania and Clava, who now never left the telega. The child was sleeping, and Tatiania was very drowsy. "Are you well, mother?" asked Sergius. "Quite well, dear boy," she answered. "I've no more pain; and I'm not tired even. But oh, so sleepy! Tuck the cloak over us, my son." Sergius carefully folded the sheepskin cloak over her and Clava, and bent down to kiss the pallid faces. Both were chilly. "The captain says we shall reach Irkutsk before Christmas," he said cheerily, "if we are not delayed by more storms." "That's good news," she answered sleepily; "I'm glad for your father's sake. Be good like him, my Sergius."