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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Oh, Dobri," said Marika, as in an angle of the inn-yard she bade her husband farewell, "don't forget the Saviour Jesus our one hope on earth." "God bless you, Marika; I'll never forget you," returned Petroff, straining his young wife to his heart. He had already parted from the children.
They came to a bed on which lay a man who seemed in the last stage of exhaustion. "No bones broken," said one surgeon in a low tone to another, to whom he was explaining the cases, "but blood almost entirely drained out of him. Very doubtful his recovery. Will require the most careful nursing." Marika stood behind the surgeons. On hearing what they said she drew nearer and looked sadly at the man.
Marika was only too glad to grasp at and hold on to the hope thus held out feeble though the ground was on which it rested, and it need scarcely be said that she went about her hospital duties after that with a lightness and joy of heart which she had not felt for many a day. Dobri Petroff's recovery was now no longer doubtful.
"Yes, yes," returned Marika, with a look and tone of despair, "I know that Dobri is dead; I saw my darling boy slain before my eyes, and heard Ivanka's dying scream; no wonder that my brain has reeled so long. But I am strong now. I feel as if the Lord were calling on me to go forth and work for Himself since I have no one else to care for. Had Giuana lived I would have stayed to nurse her, but "
It was a sad spectacle of ruin and desolation, but we found Dobri Petroff and Marika in the old home, which had been partially rebuilt.
"Perhaps, Marika, your Cornish friend may have taught you to speak English," said I, in my native tongue, turning to the woman. Marika shook her pretty head, laughed, and blushed. She seemed to understand me, but would not consent to reply in English.
The particular room in which she served was selected as being more airy and suited for those of the patients who, from their enfeebled condition, required unusual care and nursing. The evening after the change was effected, Marika, being on what may be called the night-shift, was required to assist the surgeons of the ward on their rounds.
The imagination is more correct and powerful than the pen in such cases. New life seemed from that moment to be infused into the much-tried pair. Marika had never lost her trust in God through all her woes, and even in her darkest hours had refused to murmur. She had kissed the rod that smote her, and now she praised Him with a strong and joyful heart.
I willingly complied, and turned with them into the by-path that led to it. The cottage was a mere hut, long and low, one end of which constituted the forge, the other end, divided into three compartments, being the dwelling-house. Here I found the hand of Marika very evident, in the neatness and cleanliness of everything in and around the place.
She stopped and looked earnestly in his face, then, springing back, and standing before him with clenched hands, she screamed "Ha, haa! it is you, Dobri! why did you not come to help us? traitor coward to leave us at such a time! Did you not hear the shrieks of Marika when they dragged her from your cottage? Did you not see the form of little Dobri quivering on the point of the Circassian's spear?
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