No incident had marked the journey. For the six days during which they had been together, Nicholas, Michael, and Nadia had remained the same, the one in his unchange-able calm, the other two, uneasy, and thinking of the time when their companion would leave them. Michael saw the country through which they traveled with the eyes of Nicholas and the young girl. In turns, they each described to him the scenes they passed. He knew whether he was in a forest or on a plain, whether a hut was on the steppe, or whether any Siberian was in sight. Nicholas was never silent, he loved to talk, and, from his peculiar way of viewing things, his friends were amused by his conversation. One day, Michael asked him what sort of weather it was. “Fine enough, little father,” he answered, “but soon we shall feel the first winter frosts. Perhaps the Tartars will go into winter quarters during the bad season.” Michael Strogoff shook his head with a doubtful air. “You do not think so, little father?” resumed Nicholas. “You think that they will march on to Irkutsk?” “I fear so,” replied Michael. “Yes... you are right; they have with them a bad man, who will not let them loiter on the way. You have heard speak of Ivan Ogareff?” “Yes.” “You know that it is not right to betray one’s country!” “No... it is not right...” answered Michael, who wished to remain unmoved. “Little father,” continued Nicholas, “it seems to me that you are not half indignant enough when Ivan Ogareff is spoken of. Your Russian heart ought to leap when his name is uttered.” “Believe me, my friend, I hate him more than you can ever hate him,” said Michael. “It is not possible,” replied Nicholas; “no, it is not possible! When I think of Ivan Ogareff, of the harm which he is doing to our sacred Russia, I get into such a rage that if I could get hold of him--” “If you could get hold of him, friend?” “I think I should kill him.” “And I, I am sure of it,” returned Michael quietly. CHAPTER VII THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI AT nightfall, on the 25th of August, the kibitka came in sight of Krasnoiarsk. The journey from Tomsk had taken eight days. If it had not been accomplished as rapidly as it might, it was because Nicholas had slept little. Consequently, it was impossible to increase his horse’s pace, though in other hands, the journey would not have taken sixty hours.