The sounds made by the patrols of Cossacks were heard on every side. Suddenly the runners were confronted by the figure of a Cossack who stepped out from the bushes. He aimed his _nagaika_ at Elisaveta, but she, falling headlong, escaped the brunt of the blow. The Cossack bent down, caught Elisaveta by her plait of hair, and began to drag her after him. Elisaveta cried out from pain. Trirodov pulled out a revolver and shot him almost without taking aim. The Cossack cried out and let his victim go. All three then made their way through the bushes. A deep hollow cut their progress short. “Well, we are almost out of danger here,” said Trirodov. They lowered themselves, almost rolled down to the bottom of the hollow. Their faces and hands bore scratches and their clothes were torn. On one of the sloping sides of the hollow they found a deep recess made by the rains, and now obscured by the bushes; and here they hid themselves. “Presently we’ll make for the river-bank,” said Trirodov. “We are quite close to it.” Suddenly they heard the crackle of breaking twigs above them, followed by a revolver-shot and outcries. A running figure defined itself in the dark. “Kiril!” called Elisaveta in a whisper, “come here.” Kiril heard her, and threw himself through the bushes in the direction of the hiding-place. Elisaveta could now see, quite close to her, his fatigued, desperate eyes. There was a loud, near report of a revolver. Kiril reeled; there was the sound of breaking twigs as he fell heavily and rolled down the hollow. Presently a running Cossack came down precipitately from above. He brushed so closely past them that a twig caught by his body struck Alkina’s shoulder. But Alkina did not stir; pale, slender, and calm, she stood tightly pressing her body against the almost perpendicular wall of their refuge. The Cossack bent over Kiril, examined him attentively, then muttered as he straightened himself: “Well, there’s no breath left in him. You’re done for, my clever chap.” Then he turned to climb back again. When the rustle of the parted bushes ceased Trirodov said: “Now we must walk carefully along this hollow until we come to the river. There is a bend in the river here in the direction of the town--we are bound to get somewhere almost across from my place. Then we must find our way to the other side somehow or other.” Slowly and cautiously they made their way through the thick growths of the hollow. They walked in the dark--Trirodov and the two with him, his chance one and his fated one, sent him by the two Moirae, Aisa and Ananke.[20] The bushes became moist and a fresh breeze blew from the river. Then Alkina came close to Trirodov and whispered to him: “If you are glad that she loves you, tell me, and I will share your gladness.” Trirodov pressed her hand warmly. The quiet, dim river lay before them. Beyond it the labours and dangers of life created by the dream of liberation awaited them.