RETURN TO TIFLIS. 333 



shirt, had been the one luxury in life to look for- 

 ward to ; and now that it was within thirty-six 

 hours' travel of me, I felt almost content as I curled 

 myself up in my cart, though snow and rain soaked 

 in through my ragged old clothes, through which 

 the wind cut almost to my backbone, and the 

 red mud splashed up, plastering eyes and mouth, 

 until we had passed beyond all semblance of 

 humanity. But there were to be more trials yet. 

 As we neared Akstapha the night had fallen, and, 

 weary with perpetual motion, I had cowered down 

 under my bourka in a vain endeavour to hide my- 

 self from the cold and doze away the tedious hours. 

 The weather was abominably raw ; an icy night 

 fog, blown by a cutting breeze that met us in the 

 teeth, wetted and chilled us to the bone. The hour 

 was between nine and ten, the moon had not yet 

 risen, and the night was starless. The road was 

 through the hills, and needless to say heavy and 

 hard to find in the darkness. 



Suddenly I was roused by my man's voice 

 calling me to get out at once. Peeping, half-asleep, 

 from under my rugs, I could see very little of any- 

 thing except that my man and the ycmstchik had 

 both got down and the cart had stopped. ' What 

 is the matter? ' I asked, feeling for my revolver, and 

 expecting the oft-promised highwaymen. 'One of 

 the horses has fallen down,' came the answer. 

 Cross at being disturbed for so little, and not 



