‘Well, I think our old friend here is not one to stand upon ceremony in emergency. There is no resident priest; no one will prevent you. Think of it. It is a good hiding place, and I am glad I thought of it. Suggest it to the mother in the moment of danger, and you will see.’
A moment of danger came most unexpectedly, even as we sat there and whispered together; indeed, a truly unfortunate and mistimed occurrence, and one that must have had terrible consequences, but for the most wonderful mercy of God, the protector of the innocent.
For even as we spoke of possible danger, there rang out a loud and startling peal at the great bell which hung in the entrance hall.
The Superior started to her feet. ‘A visitor,’ she cried, ‘and oh, how ill-chosen an hour! Be comforted,’ she added, seeing our frightened faces, ‘I will tell the door-keeper to admit no one.’
She left the room. Vera clung to my arm, and I drew her to me.
‘Be not afraid, Vera; I will protect you though all the world rage at the gates demanding you.’
‘Oh, Chelminsky, I am frightened!’ she said. ‘Do not let them take me to the Tsar; I will not live to be his wife. I will tell him so. Oh, God help me, God help me!’
‘He will help you, never fear,’ I said. ‘In this I shall be God’s soldier; I shall fight the better knowing that the protecting of you is the service of God!’
‘Give me your sword,’ she said suddenly; and, drawing it herself from the scabbard, she first made the sign of the cross over it, and then kissed it thrice.
‘Let it pass through my body rather than see me carried back to the terem,’ she said. ‘I am not afraid of death, but I am afraid of Sophia and of Ivan: his touch is poison to me.’