each day's journey, theiradventures possessing but little interest, merely observing, that onsome nights they rested in the cottages of the peasants, and at othertimes they found shelter beneath the shade of the thick leaved trees, orreposed during the heat of the day, and travelled at night while themoon shone brightly. Several times, Ivan felt almost confident, that hehad caught sight of the same peasant lad they had passed on their secondday's journey, who seemed to be dogging their steps; but Javis declaredthat he had not seen him, so that he concluded he must have again beenmistaken. Ivan had now perfectly recovered not only his strength, buthis spirits, for trusting that his hopes might be realised of reachingthe land of his birth, where all his thoughts and aspirations centered,he felt that nothing could press him down, or prevent him fromaccomplishing his much desired object.

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

  While they were seated at the wretched repast the house was able aloneto afford, in an apartment serving the purpose of kitchen and receivingroom for the guests, for whose accommodation tables and benches wereplaced 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 ladwhom he had suspected of following their steps. He entered the house,throwing himself on a bench near the fire, and while he endeavoured todry his wet garments, he seemed lost in a reverie, gazing at the burningembers on the hearth, speaking to no one, nor turning his head to lookat 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 anold man, approached to invite him to share their humble fare.

  The boy started as Ivan spoke, a blush mantling on his cheek, and hehesitated to accept the proffered offer, till Javis came to add hispersuasions. 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 boyacknowledged that they had passed him.

  "Are you then going to Chioff, boy, to worship at the shrines of theholy 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 andunprotected," said Ivan. "It surprises me that your parents put you notunder the care of older people travelling the same road, who might haveguarded 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 wholove me; but for protection I need it not, I can protect myself."

  "Do not say that you have no friends, boy," interrupted Javis, "whenperchance, there are some, who most likely, would be ready to shield youfrom the slightest harm."

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

  Ivan, in compassion for the boy's timidity, spoke to him a few kindwords of encouragement, when Javis addressed him. "You are travellingthe same road we go, boy, and may, perchance, require protection. Youshall, if you wish, accompany us, and you shall have all that two oldmen can bestow. Will you accept our offer?"

  The boy again seemed to hesitate, until Ivan pressed him to accept theirprotection, when he gladly assented. "You seem, poor boy, weighed downby some secret sorrow; tell it to us, that we may, if possible, affordyou all the consolation in our power."

  "Not for worlds," answered the boy, sadly; "it would but increase mysorrow 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 willwe call you. You seem fatigued and weary; and now that you havesatisfied your hunger, lie down and rest, for you have yet many a wearymile to travel, ere you can reach the shrines of the holy saints."

  The boy indeed seemed unwilling to enter into conversation, listeninghowever with earnest attention to the words which fell from the seemingold men's lips, and as they ceased speaking, he retired to a corner ofthe room, where throwing himself on a bench, and wrapping his cloakclose around him, he placed his head on a bundle he carried, andcomposed himself to sleep. The poor boy was evidently weary, andunaccustomed to the fatigues he had undergone on his journey, and thoughdressed as a common peasant, there was much greater neatness and caredisplayed than usual, the cloak also being a luxury few of his classpossessed.

  The storm continued raging furiously as before, and as there were nobeds in the house, nor any thing like such a comfort, the two travellerswere fain to repose as best they might, on the hard benches placedagainst the wall.

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

  A distance now remained, which would take them two days to perform onfoot, it being necessary to travel thus in their assumed characters ofpilgrims, for already had they overtaken large crowds, all hastening tothe 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, agedwomen and laughing maidens, the old supporting their weary limbs ontheir staves, while by their side ran young children of all ages. Thetroop headed by a white bearded monk, leaning on a long staff, clothedin sackcloth and bare-footed, chaunting forth songs of encouragement tothe weary, and praise to heaven.

  Thousands were at that moment on their way, to visit the catacombs ofChioff, from every part of the immense Empire of Russia; from the bleakand freezing Kamstchatka, from the vast and far distant regions ofSiberia, from the confines of Tartary, and from the scattered provincesof the south; performing with unabated perseverance the whole distanceon foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living on the precariouscharity of the miserable peasants on their road. Our friends thereforejoined one of the numerous companies, uninvited, yet cheerfullywelcomed.

  All day the band travelled on, assembling at night in a grove of a fewlofty wide-spreading trees near the road-side, through which the palemoon shone brightly on the heads of the numerous groups, here and thereseen amid the darker shades. A fire was lighted to cook their scantymeal, after partaking of which, they assembled reverentially round anaged monk; who arose, commencing a slow and solemn chaunt, in which bydegrees, the whole concourse joined. Far off, amid the silence of thenight, were heard the hymns of adoration of those simple people, and formany hours of the night, did those songs of praise continue, erethrowing themselves on the bare ground, their bed, the heavens theironly covering, they composed themselves to sleep.

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

  The road they had been hitherto travelling, had led over the flat anduninteresting steppe. The country, however, as they approached Chioffor Kiov, as it is also called, now became slightly undulati
ng; but itwas not until towards the evening, that they came in sight of the HolyCity.

  As that unique and strikingly beautiful city first struck their view,standing in a commanding position, on a hill, the golden cupolas anddomes, with which it is crowned, reflecting the rays of the sun withdazzling brightness, the pilgrims simultaneously raised a hymn of joyand praise. Every one of the vast crowd kneeling down, devoutly crossedhimself, rending the air with songs of thanksgiving. After some minutesspent in prayer, again they all arose, and headed by the reverend monk,they descended the hill, to cross by a bridge the river Dnieper, whosewaters wash the walls of the city. Some, in eager haste, withoutstopping to rest their weary limbs, rushed towards the Cathedral of theAscension, or the Church of the Catacombs, which stands a little removedfrom the city on the banks of the Dnieper. Others, among whom were Ivanand his companions, sought