“Decidedly,” said he, “this is pleasanter than sitting twelve hours a day, perched on a stool, working the manipulator!” Michael had managed to get Nicholas to make his horse quicken his pace. To obtain this result, he had confided to Nicholas that Nadia and he were on their way to join their father, exiled at Irkutsk, and that they were very anxious to get there. Certainly, it would not do to overwork the horse, for very probably they would not be able to exchange him for another; but by giving him frequent rests--every ten miles, for instance--forty miles in twenty-four hours could easily be accomplished. Besides, the animal was strong, and of a race calculated to endure great fatigue. He was in no want of rich pasturage along the road, the grass being thick and abundant. Therefore, it was possible to demand an increase of work from him. Nicholas gave in to all these reasons. He was much moved at the situation of these two young people, going to share their father’s exile. Nothing had ever appeared so touching to him. With what a smile he said to Nadia: “Divine goodness! what joy will Mr. Korpanoff feel, when his eyes behold you, when his arms open to receive you! If I go to Irkutsk--and that appears very probable now--will you permit me to be present at that interview! You will, will you not?” Then, striking his forehead: “But, I forgot, what grief too when he sees that his poor son is blind! Ah! everything is mingled in this world!” However, the result of all this was the kibitka went faster, and, according to Michael’s calculations, now made almost eight miles an hour. After crossing the little river Biriousa, the kibitka reached Biriousensk on the morning of the 4th of September. There, very fortunately, for Nicholas saw that his provisions were becoming exhausted, he found in an oven a dozen “pogatchas,” a kind of cake prepared with sheep’s fat and a large supply of plain boiled rice. This increase was very opportune, for something would soon have been needed to replace the koumyss with which the kibitka had been stored at Krasnoiarsk. After a halt, the journey was continued in the afternoon. The distance to Irkutsk was not now much over three hundred miles. There was not a sign of the Tartar vanguard. Michael Strogoff had some grounds for hoping that his journey would not be again delayed, and that in eight days, or at most ten, he would be in the presence of the Grand Duke. On leaving Biriousinsk, a hare ran across the road, in front of the kibitka. “Ah!” exclaimed Nicholas. “What is the matter, friend?” asked Michael quickly, like a blind man whom the least sound arouses. “Did you not see?” said Nicholas, whose bright face had become suddenly clouded. Then he added, “Ah! no! you could not see, and it’s lucky for you, little father!” “But I saw nothing,” said Nadia. “So much the better! So much the better! But I--I saw!” “What was it then?” asked Michael. “A hare crossing our road!” answered Nicholas.