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 palor steal over his father’s face and feeling the chill tremor which shook his body.

“Nothing, my son, nothing!” replied Zakhar quietly smiling. “The Sentinel is calling me to him. I hear his voice, my son. He is beckoning to me, saying, ‘Zakhar, you have done your work, now it is time to rest!’ ”

“Father, father, don’t say such things!” Maxim wept, kneeling beside him.

Old Zakhar, at peace and softly smiling, lay upon the moss, his face alight, turned to the mid-day sun. He removed his son’s hand from his breast gently and said, “No son, don’t weep for me, I am very fortunate! But look around you, a little further away, there is someone who needs your attention very badly.”

Maxim turned and his heart stopped still. There on the ground lay Peace-Renown, deathly pale, intense suffering and despair manifest upon her beautiful face. The youths had already brought some water and Maxim set to work reviving his beloved, rubbing her temples, hands and feet. Finally she sighed, opened her eyes and then closed them again.

“Peace-Renown! Peace-Renown! My sweetheart!” cried Maxim kissing her hands, “Come back to me!”

Peace-Renown, as if awakening from deep slumber, gazed up in wonderment at Maxim’s face.”

“Where am I? What has happened to me?” she questioned weakly.

“You’re right here among us, beside your Maxim!”

“Maxim?” she questioned sitting bolt upright.

“Yes, yes! See I am alive! I am free!”

Peace-Renown was silent for a long moment unable to overcome her surprise. Then she flung her arms about Maxim’s neck and wept with joy, “Maxim, my beloved!” was all she could say.

“But where is my father?” she asked a little later.