Short Fiction, Xavier de Maistre [books to read in your 20s txt] 📗
- Author: Xavier de Maistre
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Mrs. Milin smiled at these reflections of the enthusiastic girl, thinking that nothing could be impossible for so devoted a heart, and so ardent a piety as hers: and she determined, in common with her friend, to encourage Prascovia in her undertaking, and to leave it to the care of Providence, to enable her to surmount those difficulties, in which their aid could be of no avail. Before they knew her as well as they now did, they had, as we have already observed, tried to dissuade her, and made her the most flattering offers to induce her to remain with them. But nothing could alter her determination. She reproached herself, sometimes, for the comforts and the happiness she enjoyed. “How does my poor father do, in the desert, while his daughter forgets herself so much, in her unexpected good fortune?” She often upbraided herself in this way: and her benefactress thought, at last, that it would be better for her to continue her journey, as soon as the weather should permit. In the spring, Mrs. Milin, after having provided for her wants, put her on board of a boat, under the care of a man who was going to Niejeni,25 and who was accustomed to make that difficult voyage. Before leaving the Ural Mountains, which separate Yekaterinburg from Niejeni, the traveller embarks on the rivers, which run from these highlands and flow towards the north. He continues in the boat until he reaches the Tobol, where he lands to cross the mountains. The road is neither very high nor very rugged; and when the mountains have been passed, the traveller embarks anew on the rivers which fall into the Volga. Prascovia went on board of one of the numerous craft, which are employed to carry iron and salt into Russia, along the Tchousova and Khama.
The person to whose care she was entrusted, spared her many troubles, during this long journey, which she could hardly have performed without such assistance; but, unfortunately for her, he became ill in passing the defiles, and was obliged to remain in a small village, on the banks of the Khama. Deprived again of all protection, she travelled, nevertheless, without any ill accident, till she reached the confluence of the Khama and the Volga. From that place, the boats going up the river are drawn by horses. During that passage, our traveller met with an unfortunate accident. One those violent storms, which are so frequent in that country, had suddenly arisen, and the steersmen, endeavouring to put off the boat, pushed with all their strength a large oar, that supplied the place of the rudder, on the side where several persons were sitting. They had not time to turn it off, and three of the passengers, Prascovia included, were thrown into the river. She was immediately taken out of the water, and, happily, without any injury; but, reluctant to dress herself in the presence of so many persons, she retained her wet apparel, and took a violent cold, which, in the end, proved fatal to her existence.
The ladies of Yekaterinburg, having commissioned the person into whose care they had put their young friend, to make the necessary arrangements for the continuation of her journey from Niejeni, had not recommended her to anyone in that city, where in fact she did not intend to stop: but now, in consequence of the accident which had befallen her companion, she found herself in Niejeni, without any acquaintance or support.
Opposite the landing place, on the bank of the Volga, are situated on the top of a hill, a church and a convent. Prascovia immediately directed her steps towards the former, in tending to seek, after her prayers, a shelter somewhere in the city.
When she entered the solitary church, she heard from behind the grate, female voices, chanting the concluding part of the evening prayers. She considered this as a happy omen. “At some future day,” she thought, “if Heaven prospers my enterprise, I shall also be invisible to the world, and have no other calling than to worship and thank my Creator.”
On leaving the church, she stopped a while on the steps, to enjoy the splendid sight which meets the eye at that place, and which was then mellowed by the soft light of the setting sun. Niejeni Novogorod is built on the confluence of the rivers Oca and Volga, and seen from the spot where Prascovia stood, presents one of the most beautiful landscapes: our poor girl had no idea of so large a town, and she clasped her hands with admiration and amazement.
In setting out on her pilgrimage, she was prepared to meet, with resignation, all the sufferings and dangers, which, in her ignorance of the world, she could represent to herself; the inclemency of winter, oppressive heat, hunger, nakedness, diseases, death: but since she had become a little more acquainted with larger collections of men, than in
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