Chapter Nineteen.

It was now the beautiful, balmy, and genial month of a Russian June, all nature rejoicing, clothed in one entire bright livery of green, fresh from the new bursting buds, yet unseared by the burning heats of summer, like the beauteous maiden just ripened into perfect womanhood, surrounded with a halo of freshness and purity, ere the blasts and scorching atmosphere of the cruel world have had time to obscure the one or sully the other.

A few days had been passed by Ivan in the Gipsy camp, with but slow progress; each day, however, contributing to his strength. At length he declared himself sufficiently recovered to undertake the more difficult and dangerous part of his journey on foot; so eagerly burning was he with the desire of reaching the place of his destination, to fulfil the vow he had taken at the death-bed of his mother.

Azila had been his constant attendant, enlivening him with her conversation, and soothing him with her attentions; but so completely were his thoughts occupied with the events which had occurred, and especially with those to which he was looking forward, that no other sentiment entered his heart. That lovely being, day by day, sat by his side, watching anxiously each look, listening eagerly to each word he uttered, yet he loved not. He felt sincere gratitude to her as the preserver of his life, he would have again risked his own to aid her; but no other feeling excited his bosom. And she—so proud, so indifferent as she had shewn herself to be, towards the Count Erintoff, could she give her love to one from whom she could scarce hope for a return. The hearts of women are uncertain, incomprehensible, inscrutable, and we will not venture to pronounce by what special agency Azila’s was influenced.

Ivan was much indebted to old Hagar for his rapid recovery, though it was some time before she would give her consent to his eager wish to quit her care.

On the last day’s journey, as he was riding among the Gipsies, dressed in the costume of the rest of the party, the chief unfolded the plan he had formed to enable him to make his further escape from the empire.

“At this time of the year,” said the Zingani chief, “thousands of pilgrims flock from all parts of the empire, to what they superstitiously call their holy city of Chioff, and I propose that you should first repair thither with Javis, who is intimately acquainted with every part of the country, as your guide, both of you disguised as peasants performing the pilgrimage, for which I have provided every thing necessary. Should you, by any chance, be again followed, among the vast crowds who are now assembling at Chioff, you will find more facilities for preventing all clue of your route being discovered. After you have passed through the city, you and your guide may assume the character of pilgrims, returning from thence, towards their habitations on the confines of the country. I have sent forward a messenger to some friends of our people, who are now near the place where you will find the least danger in crossing the frontiers into Moldavia, to which Javis will lead you; and our people there, will afford you assistance should you require it. I must now ride forward to select a spot for our encampment; I wish to keep as much as possible concealed from all passers by, for we know not who may prove an enemy among them.” Saying which, the Gipsy chief rode on.

We must observe that the Zingani party had been travelling as much as practicable across the country, keeping all the bye roads and lanes, and avoiding all communications with the villages, near which they were at times obliged to pass.

As they journeyed on, Ivan rode up to the side of Azila, for the maiden seemed sad and dispirited. After some other conversation—

“You go, Sir,” said she, “amid scenes of excitement and of wild strife, where all your thoughts and hopes are centered, and where you will soon forget those you leave behind, those who would have died to serve you; but believe me, there is one who will never forget your aid, nor your bravery in her defence; who—”

“Neither can I ever forget one to whom I owe my life and liberty,” he exclaimed; “nay, much more: who will have enabled me to fulfil, I hope, a deep sworn vow, the accomplishment of which I have so rashly hazarded.”

Their conversation was here interrupted by the return of the Zingani chief, who rode to Ivan’s side.

Early the following day, Ivan and his guide sallied from a tent, so completely changed in appearance, that no one could possibly have recognised in the two old peasants, they now seemed to be, the dark featured, handsome young men they really were. Their very skin had been tinged of a reddish hue, with wrinkles on their brows and cheeks; while red shaggy locks sprinkled with white, covered their own dark hair, and long full beards of the same colour fell over their breasts to the waist, large low hats still more concealing their countenances. They wore long dark coloured gowns, and sheep-skin coats: rough boots of untanned leather protected their feet, and by their side hung wallets to contain their food. In their hands they bore thick sticks, ostensibly to support their tottering steps, but really to serve as a means of defence, in case of necessity.

Thus equipped, when ready to depart, the Zingani chief embraced them both, bestowing on them the peculiar blessings of his people, and charging Javis with many injunctions for the guidance of his conduct on their journey. The whole tribe assembled to bid them farewell, the old crone Hagar calling down curses on all who should impede them in their progress, and blessings on the heads of all who favoured them.

Azila alone was no where to be seen; and feelings which Ivan could scarcely acknowledge, even to himself, prevented him from asking for her, till the last moment. The chief, on missing Azila, sent in all directions to discover her, his alarm becoming considerable when she was not to be found. The travellers delayed their departure, in the hopes of gaining intelligence of her before they went; for fears began to be entertained, that by some means or other she had been entrapped either by the Count Erintoff or by the police, who might have feared to seize her by open force, among so large a band of defenders.

While the whole camp was thus thrown into a state of alarm, one of the scouts, who were at all times kept on the watch, to give timely notice in case they might be pursued, came running hastily among them, to say that he had descried, at a distance, a party whom he took to be police, riding rapidly towards the camp. Without a moment’s delay, Javis seized Ivan’s hand, hurrying him away at perhaps a faster rate, than their apparent age would have warranted; but they were only just in time to escape, for before they lost sight of the encampment, they perceived the police ride into it. The delay which there occurred, as we have already seen, enabled them to make good their distance, though they were in momentary expectation of being pursued: no signs, however, of their enemies appearing, they continued their journey at a more moderate speed.

On the second day, as they were about to repose by the road-side, the heat of the sun becoming oppressive, they heard the clattering of horses’ hoofs behind them, and perceived, on turning their heads, a party of the police galloping along the road, before they had time to attempt concealing themselves. Javis, however, with perfect presence of mind, begged Ivan to imitate his style of walking, when the police coming up, merely cast a glance at them, and rode on; but the travellers saw them stop at a short distance ahead, to interrogate a young peasant lad, whom they had just before observed. The lad appeared in no way disconcerted, pointing in answer to their questions, to a road across the country, which they followed at the same rapid speed.

Quickening their own pace, they soon overtook the boy, who saluted them as they passed, in respect for their seeming age. They did not think it prudent to rest, until the evening was far advanced, when Javis led Ivan to a hut, with the inhabitants of which he exchanged a few words, and was instantly admitted.

It is not necessary to give here a detail of each day’s journey, their adventures possessing but little interest, merely observing, that on some nights they rested in the cottages of the peasants, and at other times they found shelter beneath the shade of the thick leaved trees, or reposed during the heat of the day, and travelled at night while the moon shone brightly. Several times, Ivan felt almost confident, that he had caught sight of the same peasant lad they had passed on their second day’s journey, who seemed to be dogging their steps; but Javis declared that he had not seen him, so that he concluded he must have again been mistaken. Ivan had now perfectly recovered not only his strength, but his spirits, for trusting that his hopes might be realised of reaching the land of his birth, where all his thoughts and aspirations centered, he felt that nothing could press him down, or prevent him from accomplishing his much desired object.

One day, towards the evening, a violent storm overtook them, obliging them to stop at a wretched hostelry on the road-side, the only house of public entertainment to be found for a considerable distance. The fierceness of the tempest made it impossible for them to proceed; in spite therefore, of the slight danger they perhaps ran in entering a house where a spy might already be, they agreed to remain there, till a clear sky should again allow them to prosecute their journey.

While they were seated at the wretched repast the house was able alone to afford, in an apartment serving the purpose of kitchen and receiving room for the guests, for whose accommodation tables and benches were placed at one end of it, a boy entered, who started at seeing them, turning back as if he would retreat, when Ivan recognised in him the lad whom he had suspected of following their steps. He entered the house, throwing himself on a bench near the fire, and while he endeavoured to dry his wet garments, he seemed lost in a reverie, gazing at the burning embers on the hearth, speaking to no one, nor turning his head to look at the other guests.

Ivan at length taking compassion on the youth’s disconsolate manner, forgetful of his suspicions about him, in his assumed character of an old man, approached to invite him to share their humble fare.

The boy started as Ivan spoke, a blush mantling on his cheek, and he hesitated to accept the proffered offer, till Javis came to add his persuasions. At length, he yielded and took his seat at their table, when Ivan asked him, if he had not before seen him on the road. The boy acknowledged that they had passed him.

“Are you then going to Chioff, boy, to worship at the shrines of the holy saints?” asked Ivan.

“Yes, I go thither for that purpose,” answered the boy.

“You are but a youthful pilgrim to attempt so long a journey alone and unprotected,” said Ivan. “It surprises me that your parents put you not under the care of older people travelling the same road, who might have guarded your youth from the dangers your inexperience may lead you into. Had you no friends from your neighbourhood, making the pilgrimage?”

“Alas, I have no parents who are able to protect me, and few friends who love me; but for protection I need it not, I can protect myself.”

“Do not say that you have no friends, boy,” interrupted Javis, “when perchance, there are some, who most likely, would be ready to shield you from the slightest harm.”

The boy answered not, but hung down his head, nor did he venture to look towards Ivan, while he was speaking.

Ivan, in compassion for the boy’s timidity, spoke to him a few kind words of encouragement, when Javis addressed him. “You are travelling the same road we go, boy, and may, perchance, require protection. You shall, if you wish, accompany us, and you shall have all that two old men can bestow. Will you accept our offer?”

The boy again seemed to hesitate, until Ivan pressed him to accept their protection, when he gladly assented. “You seem, poor boy, weighed down by some secret sorrow; tell it to us, that we may, if possible, afford you all the consolation in our power.”

“Not for worlds,” answered the boy, sadly; “it would but increase my sorrow to name it, nor would you have power to heal it.”

“But tell me, boy,” said Ivan, “by what name shall we call you?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, before he spoke. “They call me, Conrin, Sir.”

“Forsooth, boy, the name is a pretty one,” said Ivan, “and Conrin will we call you. You seem fatigued and weary; and now that you have satisfied your hunger, lie down and rest, for you have yet many a weary mile to travel, ere you can reach the shrines of the holy saints.”

The boy indeed seemed unwilling to enter into conversation, listening however with earnest attention to the words which fell from the seeming old men’s lips, and as they ceased speaking, he retired to a corner of the room, where throwing himself on a bench, and wrapping his cloak close around him, he placed his head on a bundle he carried, and composed himself to sleep. The poor boy was evidently weary, and unaccustomed to the fatigues he had undergone on his journey, and though dressed as a common peasant, there was much greater neatness and care displayed than usual, the cloak also being a luxury few of his class possessed.

The storm continued raging furiously as before, and as there were no beds in the house, nor any thing like such a comfort, the two travellers were fain to repose as best they might, on the hard benches placed against the wall.

On the next morning by break of day, their new companion was already on foot, prepared to start, when the storm having passed away, the whole party set forward on their journey. They had not proceeded many miles, when Javis informed his companions, that there was a cottage in the neighbourhood, from whence he could procure a conveyance to carry them on at a faster rate; and begging them to rest for a while, he went in search of it, and soon returned, driving a small vehicle capable of containing all the three. In this carriage they travelled till the end of the next day, when Javis again found a fresh horse, so that by thus frequently changing both horse and carriage, in a few days they reached the neighbourhood of their destination.

A distance now remained, which would take them two days to perform on foot, it being necessary to travel thus in their assumed characters of pilgrims, for already had they overtaken large crowds, all hastening to the same destination.

The pilgrims travelled in bands of one or two hundred, of both sexes, and of all ages; the hoary headed grandsire and the athletic youth, aged women and laughing maidens, the old supporting their weary limbs on their staves, while by their side ran young children of all ages. The troop headed by a white bearded monk, leaning on a long staff, clothed in sackcloth and bare-footed, chaunting forth songs of encouragement to the weary, and praise to heaven.

Thousands were at that moment on their way, to visit the catacombs of Chioff, from every part of the immense Empire of Russia; from the bleak and freezing Kamstchatka, from the vast and far distant regions of Siberia, from the confines of Tartary, and from the scattered provinces of the south; performing with unabated perseverance the whole distance on foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living on the precarious charity of the miserable peasants on their road. Our friends therefore joined one of the numerous companies, uninvited, yet cheerfully welcomed.

All day the band travelled on, assembling at night in a grove of a few lofty wide-spreading trees near the road-side, through which the pale moon shone brightly on the heads of the numerous groups, here and there seen amid the darker shades. A fire was lighted to cook their scanty meal, after partaking of which, they assembled reverentially round an aged monk; who arose, commencing a slow and solemn chaunt, in which by degrees, the whole concourse joined. Far off, amid the silence of the night, were heard the hymns of adoration of those simple people, and for many hours of the night, did those songs of praise continue, ere throwing themselves on the bare ground, their bed, the heavens their only covering, they composed themselves to sleep.

The boy found shelter close to the trees, amid some groups, apparently of about his own age, the bright moonbeams streaming like rays of glory on the youthful heads of the sleeping pilgrims.

The road they had been hitherto travelling, had led over the flat and uninteresting steppe. The country, however, as they approached Chioff or Kiov, as it is also called, now became slightly undulating; but it was not until towards the evening, that they came in sight of the Holy City.

As that unique and strikingly beautiful city first struck their view, standing in a commanding position, on a hill, the golden cupolas and domes, with which it is crowned, reflecting the rays of the sun with dazzling brightness, the pilgrims simultaneously raised a hymn of joy and praise. Every one of the vast crowd kneeling down, devoutly crossed himself, rending the air with songs of thanksgiving. After some minutes spent in prayer, again they all arose, and headed by the reverend monk, they descended the hill, to cross by a bridge the river Dnieper, whose waters wash the walls of the city. Some, in eager haste, without stopping to rest their weary limbs, rushed towards the Cathedral of the Ascension, or the Church of the Catacombs, which stands a little removed from the city on the banks of the Dnieper. Others, among whom were Ivan and his companions, sought rest and food, ere on the next morning, they should commence paying their adorations at the numerous shrines, they had vowed to visit. So well had Ivan and Javis sustained their characters, that not one of the credulous people, among whom they had freely mixed, suspected that they were otherwise than as what they appeared.

Next morning Ivan and his companions set forward, to go through the usual routine of visiting the shrines. It is said, that in some years, more than fifty thousand pilgrims have visited the catacombs, and even now the whole city was filled with them, many too encamping outside on the unsheltered ground, thinking to gain more credit with heaven, by thus enduring greater hardship on earth. By early dawn, the whole of that vast concourse of strangers were on foot, hastening to the different places of worship.

The Church of the Catacombs is adorned with seven golden domes, and seven golden spires, which are connected with gilt chains, now glittering with the first bright rays of the rising sun, seeming to shed a blaze of glory over the holy edifice, as the orisons of the morning worshippers rose towards heaven. Upwards of five hundred feet above the river, rises the dome of the belfry, adorned with Ionic columns and Corinthian pilasters, to which all Russians accord the greatest admiration and praise.

As the doors of the church were thrown open, the eager pilgrims rushed in to throw themselves before the shrines of their favourite saints, whose pictures hung over their altars; though the least devout among them would have been scandalised had an image or figure stood there instead.

As the first deep and solemn tones of the sacred harmony in the service rose towards heaven, Ivan and his companions entered the cathedral, and following the example of the multitude, knelt before one of the altars; but there was an almost imperceptible curl of contempt on the lip of Javis as they did so, even the boy seemed scarcely so devout as the long pilgrimage he had undertaken would have led one to suppose he should be.

When the service was concluded, the pilgrims bought tapers at the porch of the church, and forming a procession in a long line, descended a wooden stair-case of many steps to the mouth of the catacombs, down each side of which were arranged an uninterrupted line of kneeling devotees, of the most wretched appearance. The procession halted, as the first part reached the entrance of the excavated passages of the catacombs, the priest preceding them; they then slowly and reverently entered the subterraneous vaults, the roof blackened with the smoke of thousands, and tens of thousands of the candles of the faithful, which had burnt there on previous years.

On each side, in niches in the walls, were placed in open coffins, the bodies of those, who dying in the odour of sanctity, have been canonised for their pious acts and thoughts. There unburied they remain, enveloped in wrappers of cloth, and silk, highly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery, that their fellow mortals who come to them for intercession, seeing their honours after death, may study to imitate them in the purity of their lives; while their spirits, having ascended into heaven, are devoutly believed to exercise an influence with the Father and Son. Their names are written on their breasts, and many have also a history of their virtuous actions, while their stiffened hands placed before them in the attitude of prayer, receive the kisses of the pilgrims, though few perchance could decypher even the names of those they worshipped.

Further on, they reached a passage in which was a range of small windows, where men had, with their own hands, built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole to receive their food; dying with the insane thought, that they were doing their Maker a good service. Before each of the windows of those fanatics’ last dwelling, now their tomb, knelt some bigoted and devoted worshipper, firmly believing that their self-immolation and unnatural death, had purchased for them everlasting life, and place, and power, among the spirits of the blessed.

Though it may seem incredible, yet so it was, that perchance not even one of that vast crowd had any just or clear notions of the tenets of the very religion they professed; for so ignorant are the Russian peasants, that the most absurd and superstitious legends find fall credit in their minds. Of the attributes of the Supreme Being, the majority have but the slightest conception, regarding him in the light of one inferior to their Emperor, and neither respecting nor fearing him so much. So completely does the despotic influence of the Czar extend over the greater mass of the people, that they have been taught to look upon him as one sent with divine authority, to rule over their lives and property, against whom it would be the most dreadful impiety to rebel; and for this end has their religion, and every feeling, and sentiment of their minds, been made subservient. Yet these are the people, whose rulers profess to extend the benign light of Christianity, and the blessings of civilisation, among the nations of the East!

Leaving the church, as they walked through the crowds, Javis adroitly made inquiries among the peasant pilgrims, as to when a party was likely to start for the west confines of the Empire and gladly found that a band was about to return towards the frontier of Bessarabia the very next morning. With his usual tact and cleverness, he soon discovered where the party was lodging, introducing himself among the peasants, and gaining their good will. They therefore gladly received him and his friends among their company.

The rest of the day was of necessity spent, in their character of pilgrims, in visiting the churches and most interesting sights of that gorgeous city, though gladly did they prepare to accompany the party of self-satisfied pilgrims, who were returning the same way they wished to pursue.

End of Volume One.