Through Russia | Page 7

rearrange yourself," I said, "and in the meanwhile I will go
and wash the baby."
"Yes, yes," she murmured uneasily. "But be very careful with him--be
very gentle."
Yet it was little enough care that the rosy little homunculus seemed to
require, so strenuously did he clench his fists, and bawl as though he
were minded to challenge the whole world to combat.
"Come, now!" at length I said. "You must have done, or your very head
will drop off."
Yet no sooner did he feel the touch of the ocean spray, and begin to be
sprinkled With its joyous caresses, than he lamented more loudly and
vigorously than ever, and so continued throughout the process of being
slapped on the back and breast as, frowning and struggling, he vented
squall after squall while the waves laved his tiny limbs.
"Shout, young Orlovian!" said I encouragingly. "Let fly with all the
power of your lungs!"
And with that, I took him back to his mother. I found her with eyes
closed and lips drawn between her teeth as she writhed in the torment
of expelling the after-birth. But presently I detected through the sighs
and groans a whispered:
"Give him to me! Give him to me!"
"You had better wait a little," I urged.
"Oh no! Give him to me now!"
And with tremulous, unsteady hands she unhooked the bosom of her

bodice, and, freeing (with my assistance) the breast which nature had
prepared for at least a dozen children, applied the mutinous young
Orlovian to the nipple. As for him, he at once understood the matter,
and ceased to send forth further lamentation.
"O pure and holy Mother of God!" she gasped in a long-drawn,
quivering sigh as she bent a dishevelled head over the little one, and,
between intervals of silence, fell to uttering soft, abrupt exclamations.
Then, opening her ineffably beautiful blue eyes, the hallowed eyes of a
mother, she raised them towards the azure heavens, while in their
depths there was coming and going a flame of joy and gratitude. Lastly,
lifting a languid hand, she with a slow movement made the sign of the
cross over both herself and her babe.
"Thanks to thee O purest Mother of God!" she murmured. "Thanks
indeed to thee!"
Then her eyes grew dim and vague again, and after a pause (during
which she seemed to be scarcely breathing) she said in a hard and
matter-of-fact tone:
"Young fellow, unfasten my satchel."
And whilst I was so engaged she continued to regard me with a steady
gaze; but, when the task was completed she smiled shamefacedly, and
on her sunken cheeks and sweat-flecked temples there dawned the
ghost of a blush.
"Now," said she, "do you, for the present, go away."
"And if I do so, see that in the meanwhile you do not move about too
much."
"No, I will not. But please go away."
So I withdrew a little. In my breast a sort of weariness was lurking, but
also in my breast there was echoing a soft and glorious chorus of birds,
a chorus so exquisitely in accord with the never-ceasing splash of the
sea that for ever could I have listened to it, and to the neighbouring
brook as it purled on its way like a maiden engaged in relating
confidences about her lover.
Presently, the woman's yellow-scarfed head (the scarf now tidily
rearranged) reappeared over the bushes.
"Come, come, good woman!" was my exclamation. "I tell you that you
must not move about so soon."
And certainly her attitude now was one of utter languor, and she had

perforce to grasp the stem of a bush with one hand to support herself.
Yet while the blood was gone from her face, there had formed in the
hollows where her eyes had been two lakes of blue.
"See how he is sleeping!" she murmured.
And, true enough, the child was sound asleep, though to my eyes he
looked much as any other baby might have done, save that the couch of
autumn leaves on which he was ensconced consisted of leaves of a kind
which could not have been discovered in the faraway forests of Orlov.
"Now, do you yourself lie down awhile," was my advice.
"Oh, no," she replied with a shake of her head on its sinuous neck; "for
I must be collecting my things before I move on towards--"
"Towards Otchenchiri"
"Yes. By now my folk will have gone many a verst in that direction."
"And can you walk so far? "
"The Holy Mother will help me."
Yes, she was to journey in the company of the Mother of God. So no
more on the point required to be said.
Glancing again at the tiny, inchoate face under the bushes, her eyes
diffused