TAKING heart Katrinka struggled forward, pointing to the lights and telling Peter that presently his stomach would be filled with good things. She began to sing again, choosing Peter's favorite songs. Her voice was sweet and true, although it quavered now and then and sank away for want of breath.
Suddenly there was a great pounding of hoofs behind the children. Turning her head Katrinka saw almost upon them a carriage drawn by three black horses, their skins glistening, the chains on their harness clinking and the bell in the wooden arch above the middle horse ringing merrily.
Frightened, Katrinka drew Peter to the side of the road. As she did so she accidentally let go of the corner of the sheet which held the samovar. It slipped from her shoulder. The samovar rolled almost under the horses' hoofs. With a cry Katrinka sprang forward to save it, while the driver pulled up his horses so suddenly that, for a moment, they were almost on their haunches, their forefeet waving wildly in the air.
"What is it?" cried a child's shrill voice, just as Katrinka dragged her pack safely to the side of the road, and a man jumped from the carriage and stood looking down at her. In one terrified glance Katrinka recognized him. He was the officer who had carried away the tin box. Thrusting Peter behind her, she faced him defiantly, sure that this time he would demand the samovar and perhaps her little brother as well.
The man looked at Katrinka, scowled darkly, and muttering something under his breath, turned towards the carriage. Katrinka was uncertain whether or not he had recognized her.
"Are the little one hurt? Did the horses strike them?" asked somebody in the carriage. Katrinka looked beyond the man towards the speaker.
In the half darkness she saw a little girl with a sparkling, rosy face, framed in fair, curling hair on which was jauntily perched a full, black velvet Tam o' Shanter. Her coat was also of black velvet and was finished at the neck with a wide, lace collar. Her hands were encased in gloves and her feet in shining, black shoes. Katrinka looked at her and smiled shyly. The child smiled back. Then she turned to a woman sitting beside her, said something, and when the woman nodded, leaned from the carriage.
"Did the horses strike you?" she asked.
Katrinka shook her head. "No, and the samovar is safe."
"Your samovar?" inquired the woman who sat beside the child. "What are you doing out here in the road with a samovar?"
"I am taking it to the bazaar," replied Katrinka, once more throwing the pack over her shoulder.
As she almost doubled under its weight, the child spoke to her again.
"It is heavy–have you walked far with it?"
"From our house in the village of Vachok."
"But that is a long way from here!" cried the woman, who spoke strangely and very slowly, as if she were trying to think of the right words.
"It is nine miles from Tosna," replied Katrinka.
"And you have carried the samovar all the way. How tired you must be! We will drive you the rest of your journey. There is plenty of room. Fraülein will hold the little boy. We drive through Tosna on our way to Tsarskoe Seloe." As the little girl in black velvet finished speaking, she turned to the lady beside her, who shrugged her shoulders as if annoyed, and said something in a language that Katrinka could not understand. Whatever it was, it made no difference to the child's plans. She leaned forward, asked the driver to take Katrinka's pack, then motioned to the dark man in the handsome uniform to help the children.
He bowed politely to the child, muttered something under his breath and the next moment had tossed little Peter into the carriage. Poor Katrinka, very much frightened at this sudden turn in events, and still fearful that the dark man wanted to get possession of the samovar and of Peter as well, hesitated, then clambered into the carriage and sat down beside the little girl with the velvet coat..
A fur-lined rug was thrown over them, a signal given to the driver and the carriage whirled away, the bell over the middle horse ringing, the chains on the harness clashing musically. The air against Katrinka's face was cold, but exhilarating.
She turned and smiled at the girl in the velvet Tam o' Shanter. As the girl smiled back, Katrinka noticed a roguish expression in her eyes. She did not seem a bit afraid of the big, dark man.
Katrinka pointed to him. "Is the officer your father?" she asked.
The child laughed. "No, indeed," she said. Then she laughed again and spoke in a strange language to the woman on the other side of her.
"My name is Tatiana Nicholovna," she said, turning towards Katrinka. "Have you never heard of me?"
Katrinka shook her head. "I live far from here," she explained apologetically. "I know only the villagers in Vachok."
Again the girl laughed, and just then the horses drew up before the bazaar. The shopkeepers were beginning to close their booths, but as the carriage approached, they stopped, faced about and stood with uncovered heads. The next moment Katrinka was lifted to the ground and Peter was standing beside her. In her hands was the sheet in which rested the samovar.
Tatiana called a merry good-by, the lady beside her nodded and smiled slightly, the officer raised his hat without glancing at the children. Then the horses thundered away.
Katrinka gazed wistfully after the departing carriage, wondering if she should ever again see the little girl called Tatiana Nicholovna.
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by several shopkeepers who crowded about her, gesticulating excitedly and asking questions about the Grand Duchess Tatiana and Tsarskoe Seloe.
It was with some difficulty that Katrinka explained to them that she had something to sell, opened the sheet and displayed the samovar. Then began a whispered consultation accompanied by many gestures. The men looked at the samovar, passing it back and forth among them. Finally a thin little man with shrewd eyes detached himself from the others, and approaching Katrinka, asked if she would accept a rouble 13 for the machine.
Before the child had time to reply one of the other men told her he would give two roubles. This seemed to Katrinka a great deal of money, and she was about to say that it was too much, when the first man said he would give three roubles. Somebody grasped his arm and there was another consultation. Then the man who had offered three roubles again approached Katrinka.
"Will you take two roubles for the samovar?" he said.
Katrinka looked at him, surprised that he should now offer but two roubles, when a minute before he had said that he would give three. For a moment she stood looking helplessly from one to another of the men. Then she nodded her head.
"It is very kind of you to say you will give me two roubles," she said.
The man placed two roubles in her palm. As her fingers closed on the coins she felt very rich, indeed. She took Peter's hand and was starting towards the street, when she noticed a woman in one of the booths who was putting away a string of dried fish. Going to her she held out the money she had just received.
"Will you please let me have some fish and tell me where I can buy some milk and black bread for my little brother?"
The woman smiled kindly at the children. "You little ones who drive with Grand Duchesses, what do you want with black bread?" she asked, shaking her head.
"We are hungry," replied Katrinka simply.
"Then come home with me. I will give you food and send you back to your mother with full stomachs."
Katrinka's lips quivered. "My mother and father are far away, but they are not in chains."
The woman laid her hand on the child's head. "Do you come from far?" she asked kindly.
"Yes, from Vachok."
"Did the Grand Duchess bring you all the way from there in her carriage?"
"Oh, no. We could see the lights of Tosna when the carriage overtook us. I was frightened and dropped the samovar. The horses almost crushed it with their forefeet, but I sprang in front of them and rescued it. Then suddenly the carriage stopped and the little girl asked if I was hurt. Was the lady with the strange way of speaking, the Grand Duchess?"
The woman looked at Katrinka in surprise.
"No, indeed! The child–the little girl–was the Grand Duchess Tatiana Nicholovna."
"She told me that was her name, but she did not say that she was a Grand Duchess."
"Why, child, she is the second daughter of the Czar of Russia. She passes the bazaar often." The woman's voice had sunk to a whisper.
"Oh," cried Katrinka, "if I had known that I should have told her about my poor father and mother. When she learned how lonely Peter and I have been without them, and how hungry, she would have spoken to her father and he would have sent for them to come home. If you will tell me where she lives, I will leave Peter with you and go at once to find her."
The woman laughed and patted Katrinka's shoulder.
"It is a long way to the Little Palace in Tsarskoe Seloe, where the Czar and his family live. You could not walk the distance in less than three days."
The woman pulled the canvas flap over the front of her little booth, and reached out a hand for each of the children to grasp.
"I live only a few doors farther on. My sister, who lives with me, will have a hot supper ready by the time we arrive. Come, my little ones."
Peter would have preferred remaining to look at all of the wonderful shops. He was especially fascinated by one where parrots and green and yellow canaries were sold.
He hung back, his sleepy gaze fixed on the big cages filled with birds, until suddenly the proprietor came out of the booth and dropped the canvas curtain. Then Peter fixed his attention on a stand where cheeses were sold, and Katrinka, noticing the droop at the corners of his mouth, slipped her fingers from the hand of her new-found friend, and ran to the booth. Opening her small fist, in which she still held the money she had received for the samovar, she asked the man in charge of the booth to give her a cheese, and to take the pay for it from the two roubles in her hand. The man took a rouble, and was giving her a few kopecks 14 in change, when the woman who had befriended the children, and who had hurried after Katrinka, spoke up sharply. Then followed five minutes of haggling over the price of the cheese, and a great many kopecks were poured finally into Katrinka's hand, instead of a few. The purchase concluded, the market woman took the cheese, and together the trio started down the road, the woman talking cheerily about the good things that the children would have for supper.
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Initial text entry and proof-reading of this chapter were the work of volunteer
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