There were no horses to draw these sledges, but behind each stood a servant in fur jacket, cap and boots, with a pair of skates hung over his shoulder.
"I wish to go to the isba of Paloffsky, the peasant, beyond Torjok; we will go the shorter way, by the river," said Lady Feodorovna. "Hasten!"
Then the servants each gave a great push, and the sledges started off so quickly and lightly down the slope to the river that they could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached the banks of the Blankow, which flowed past the count's grounds and was frozen over for miles, the servants stooped and put on their skates, binding them by long straps over their feet, and round and round their ankles. Then they started down the river, and oh, how they flew! while the sledges, with their gorgeous birds, fairly sparkled in the sunlight.
Sooner almost than I can tell it they had reached their journey's end; the skates were unstrapped, and the sledges drawn up the bank to the door of the little isba, which Lady Feodorovna entered, followed by the maid with the parcels.
A sad picture met their eyes. Poor Nicholas sat on a bench by the stove, wrapped in his sheepskin blanket, looking so pale, and thin that he scarcely seemed alive; on his knees lay the hungry baby, biting his little fist because he had nothing else to bite; while on the floor beside him sat a little three-year-old fellow crying bitterly, whom a sad little sister was vainly trying to comfort.
Nicholas looked up as the door opened, but did not speak as the strange lady advanced, and bade her maid open the packages and put their contents on the table. How the children stared! The little one stopped crying, and crept up to the table, followed shyly by his sister. Then the maid put a dainty white bread-roll in each little hand. Then she took the baby gently from off the poor, tired father's knee, and gave it spoonful after spoonful of sweet, pure milk, till its little pinched cheeks seemed fairly to grow full and rosy, and it gave a satisfied little "coo-o," that would have done your hearts good to hear. Meanwhile Lady Feodorovna went up to Nicholas, and said softly:
"Look at your little ones! they are happy now! Can you not rouse up and drink this good bowl of soup? It is warm yet, and will do you good. Drink, and then I will tell you some good news."
Nicholas took the bowl which she held towards him, but his hand trembled so that it would have fallen if she had not herself held it to his lips. As he tasted the warm nourishing soup new life seemed to come to him, and he grasped the bowl eagerly, drinking till the last drop was gone; then, looking up with a grateful smile he said simply, "Ah! we were so hungry, my little ones and I! Thanks, barishna."
"Now for my good news," said the lady. "Here is the money for your rent; and here are ten roubles more, for clothes for your little ones. The food there is sufficient for to-day; to-morrow I will send you more. Do not thank me," she added, as Nicholas tried to speak; "you must thank Katinka Kassaloff for it all."
Just then a great noise was heard outside, and little Todeloff came prancing merrily up to the door, shaking his head and rattling the little bells on his douga (the great wooden arch that all Russian horses have attached to their collars) as proudly as if he had the finest drosky in all St. Petersburg behind him.