A vulture flew over him with hoarse scream; he took the waiting man for a corpse, so motionless was he.
At length was heard the long-expected signal. The path groaned beneath the tramp of horses. The horsemen must perforce pass quite close to him. He could aim as slowly as he pleased.
Only when the horsemen came up did he see how he had been the sport of fate. They were only outriders; the company passed; the Czar was not among them.
Where could he be?
"Confound you, you fellow, with your green eyes!" said Jakuskin, with an oath. "You will be making me into a superstitious fool!"
There was no sign of the Czar. He had escaped.
It is a delicious autumn day, such as is only to be met with in the enchantingly beautiful mountains of Tauris. The air is so pure that the distant ranges are brought near; silvery threads of gossamer flutter from every branch; the autumnal tints are an exquisite mixture of gold and red; the turf is strewn with pink anemones. That little spot of earth is the orchard of the world. There is a perfect forest of fruit-trees here, groaning under their ripe loads. Fallen apples and pears cover the ground. Blackbirds sing their praises to the owner of the woods, who grudges of his plenty neither to the wanderer nor to the birds of the air. The giant trees, which in other countries only bring forth wild pears, are here laden with luscious fruit sweet as honey. What can be gathered with the hand is the passer-by's; the rest is the property of the owner.
Czar Alexander was delighted with the wealth of fruit in this fairy-land. He began to believe in Bethsaba's fairy stories.
In one place, where the path led up through two rocky walls, the sound of bells came wafted down below.