No More Learning

The Commandant sent the "_ouriadnik_" on a mission to
look well into all in the neighbouring village and little forts. The
"_ouriadnik_" came back after an absence of two days, and reported that
he had seen in the steppe, about sixty versts from the fort, many fires,
and that he had heard the Bashkirs say that an innumerable force was
approaching. He had nothing of a more detailed or accurate nature to
relate, having been afraid of going too far.

We soon began to notice a certain stir among the Cossacks in the
garrison. They gathered in all the streets in little groups, spoke among
themselves in low voices, and dispersed directly they caught sight of a
dragoon or any other Russian soldier. They were watched. Joulai, a
baptized Kalmuck, revealed to the Commandant something very serious.
According to him the "_ouriadnik_" had made a false report. On his
return the perfidious Cossack had told his comrades that he had advanced
upon the rebels, and that he had been presented to their chief, and that
this chief gave him his hand to kiss and had had a long interview with
him. At once the Commandant put the "_ouriadnik_" in arrest, and
declared Joulai his substitute. This change was received by the Cossacks
with manifest discontent. They grumbled aloud, and Iwan Ignatiitch, who
executed the Commandant's orders, heard them with his own ears say
pretty clearly--

"Only wait a bit, you garrison rat! "

The Commandant had intended to cross-examine his prisoner that same day,
but the "_ouriadnik_" had escaped, doubtless with the connivance of his
accomplices.

Another thing occurred to augment the Commandant's disquiet; a Bashkir
was taken bearing seditious letters. Upon this occasion the Commandant
decided upon assembling his officers anew, and in order to do that he
wished again to get rid of his wife under some plausible pretext. But as
Ivan Kouzmitch was one of the most upright and sincere of men he could
not think of any other way than that which he had already employed on a
previous occasion.

"Do you know, Vassilissa Igorofna," said he to her, while clearing his
throat once or twice, "it is said that Father Garosim has received from
the town--"

"Hold your tongue," interrupted his wife; "you want again to call a
council of war, and talk without me about Emelian Pugatchef; but you
will not deceive me this time. "

Ivan Kouzmitch opened his eyes wide.

"Well, little mother," said he, "if you know all, stay; there is nothing
more to be done, we will talk before you. "

"Yes, you are quite right, my little father," rejoined she; "it is of
no use your trying to play the sly fox. Send for the officers. "

We again met. Ivan Kouzmitch read to us, before his wife, Pugatchef's
proclamation, drawn up by some illiterate Cossack. The robber proclaimed
his intention of marching directly upon our fort, inviting the Cossacks
and the soldiers to join him, and counselling the chiefs not to
withstand him, threatening them, should they do so, with the utmost
torture.

The proclamation was written in coarse but emphatic terms, and was
likely to produce a great impression on the minds of simple people.

"What a rascal," cried the Commandant's wife. "Just look what he dares
to propose to us! To go out to meet him and lay our colours at his feet!
Oh! the son of a dog! He doesn't then know that we have been forty
years in the service, and that, thank heaven, we have had a taste of all
sorts! Is it possible that there can have been commandants base and
cowardly enough to obey this robber? "

"Such a thing should not be possible," rejoined Ivan Kouzmitch;
"nevertheless, they say the scoundrel has already got possession of
several forts. "

"It appears that he is in strength, indeed," observed Chvabrine.

"We shall know directly the amount of his strength," resumed the
Commandant. "Vassilissa Igorofna, give me the key of the barn. Ivan
Ignatiitch, bring up the Bashkir and tell Joulai to fetch the rods. "[50]

"Wait a bit, Ivan Kouzmitch," said the Commandant's wife, rising; "let
me take Masha out of the house. Without I do so she would hear the
cries, and they would frighten her. And as for me, to tell the truth, I
am not over curious about such matters. So hoping to see you again--"

Torture was then so rooted in the practice of justice that the
beneficial ukase[51] ordaining its abolition remained a long time of
none effect. It was thought that the confession of the accused was
indispensable to condemnation, an idea not merely unreasonable, but
contrary to the dictates of the simplest good sense in legal matters,
for, if the denial of the accused be not accepted as proof of his
innocence, the extorted confession should still less serve as proof of
his guilt. Yet even now I still hear old judges sometimes regret the
abolition of this barbarous custom.

But in those days no one ever doubted of the necessity for torture,
neither the judges nor the accused themselves. That is why the
Commandant's order did not arouse any surprise or emotion among us. Iwan
Ignatiitch went off to seek the Bashkir, who was under lock and key in
the Commandant's barn, and a few minutes later he was brought into the
ante-room. The Commandant ordered him to be brought before him.

The Bashkir crossed the sill with difficulty, owing to the wooden
shackles he had on his feet. I glanced at him and involuntarily
shuddered.

He lifted his high cap and remained near the door. I shall never forget
that man; he seemed to be at least seventy years old, and he had neither
nose nor ears. His head was shaven, and his beard consisted of a few
grey hairs. He was little of stature, thin and bent; but his Tartar eyes
still sparkled.

"Eh! eh! " said the Commandant, who recognized by these terrible marks
one of the rebels punished in 1741, "you are an old wolf, by what I see.
You have already been caught in our traps. 'Tis not the first time you
have rebelled, since you have been so well cropped. Come near and tell
me who sent you. "

The old Bashkir remained silent, and looked at the Commandant with a
look of complete idiocy.

"Well, why don't you speak? " continued Ivan Kouzmitch. "Don't you
understand Russ? Joulai, ask him in your language who sent him to our
fort. "

Joulai repeated Ivan Kouzmitch's question in the Tartar language. But
the Bashkir looked at him with the same expression, and spoke never a
word.

"Jachki! " the Commandant rapped out a Tartar oath, "I'll make you speak.
Here, Joulai, strip him of his striped dressing-gown, his idiot's dress,
and stripe his shoulders. Now then, Joulai, touch him up properly. "

Two pensioners began undressing the Bashkir. Great uneasiness then
overspread the countenance of the unhappy man. He began looking all
round like a poor little animal in the hands of children. But when one
of the pensioners seized his hands in order to twine them round his
neck, and, stooping, upraised the old man on his shoulders, when Joulai
took the rods and lifted his hands to strike, then the Bashkir gave a
long, deep moan, and, throwing back his head, opened his mouth, wherein,
instead of a tongue, was moving a short stump.

We were all horrified.

"Well," said the Commandant, "I see we can get nothing out of him.
Joulai, take the Bashkir back to the barn; and as for us, gentlemen, we
have still to deliberate. "

We were continuing to discuss our situation, when Vassilissa Igorofna
burst into the room, breathless, and looking affrighted.

"What has happened to you? " asked the Commandant, surprised.

"Misery! misery! " replied Vassilissa Igorofna. "Fort Nijneosern was
taken this morning. Father Garasim's boy has just come back. He saw how
it was taken. The Commandant and all the officers have been hanged, all
the soldiers are prisoners. The rascals are coming here. "

This unexpected news made a great impression upon me. The Commandant of
Fort Nijneosern, a gentle and quiet young man, was known to me. Two
months previously he had passed on his way from Orenburg with his young
wife, and he had stayed with Ivan Kouzmitch.

The Nijneosernaia was only twenty-five versts away from our fort. From
hour to hour we might expect to be attacked by Pugatchef. The probable
fate of Marya Ivanofna rose vividly before my imagination, and my heart
failed me as I thought of it.

"Listen, Ivan Kouzmitch," I said to the Commandant, "it is our duty to
defend the fort to the last gasp, that is understood. But we must think
of the women's safety. Send them to Orenburg, if the road be still open,
or to some fort further off and safer, which the rascals have not yet
had time to reach. "

Ivan Kouzmitch turned to his wife.

"Look here, mother, really, had we not better send you away to some more
distant place till the rebels be put down? "

"What nonsense! " replied his wife.

"Show me the fortress that bullets cannot reach. In what respect is
Belogorskaia not safe? Thank heaven, we have now lived here more than
twenty-one years. We have seen the Bashkirs and the Kirghiz; perhaps we
may weary out Pugatchef here. "

"Well, little mother," rejoined Ivan Kouzmitch, "stay if you like, since
you reckon so much on our fort. But what are we to do with Masha? It is
all right if we weary him out or if we be succoured. But if the robbers
take the fort? "

"Well, then--"

But here Vassilissa Igorofna could only stammer and become silent,
choked by emotion.

"No, Vassilissa Igorofna," resumed the Commandant, who remarked that his
words had made a great impression on his wife, perhaps for the first
time in her life; "it is not proper for Masha to stay here. Let us send
her to Orenburg to her godmother. There are enough soldiers and cannons
there, and the walls are stone. And I should even advise you to go away
thither, for though you be old yet think on what will befall you if the
fort be taken by assault. "

"Well! well! " said the wife, "we will send away Masha; but don't ask me
to go away, and don't think to persuade me, for I will do no such thing.
It will not suit me either in my old age to part from you and go to seek
a lonely grave in a strange land. We have lived together; we will die
together. "

"And you are right," said the Commandant. "Let us see, there is no time
to lose. Go and get Masha ready for her journey; to-morrow we will start
her off at daybreak, and we will even give her an escort, though, to
tell the truth, we have none too many people here. But where is she? "

"At Akoulina Pamphilovna's," answered his wife. "She turned sick when
she heard of the taking of Nijneosern; I dread lest she should fall
ill. Oh! God in heaven! that we should have lived to see this! "

Vassilissa Igorofna went away to make ready for her daughter's
departure.

The council at the Commandant's still continued, but I no longer took
any part in it. Marya Ivanofna reappeared for supper, pale and her eyes
red. We supped in silence, and we rose from table earlier than usual.
Each of us returned to his quarters after bidding good-bye to the whole
family. I purposely forgot my sword, and came back to fetch it. I felt I
should find Marya alone; in fact, she met me in the porch, and handed me
my sword.

"Good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch," she said to me, crying; "they are sending
me to Orenburg. Keep well and happy. Mayhap God will allow us to see one
another again, if not--"

She began to sob. I pressed her in my arms.

"God be with you, my angel," I said to her. "My darling, my loved one,
whatever befall me, rest assured that my last thought and my last prayer
will be for you. "

Masha still wept, sheltered on my breast. I kissed her passionately, and
abruptly went out.




CHAPTER VII.

THE ASSAULT.


All the night I could not sleep, and I did not even take off my clothes.
I had meant in the early morning to gain the gate of the fort, by which
Marya Ivanofna was to leave, to bid her a last good-bye. I felt that a
complete change had come over me. The agitation of my mind seemed less
hard to bear than the dark melancholy in which I had been previously
plunged. Blended with the sorrow of parting, I felt within me vague, but
sweet, hopes, an eager expectation of coming dangers, and a feeling of
noble ambition.

The night passed quickly. I was going out, when my door opened and the
corporal came in to tell me that our Cossacks had left the fort during
the night, taking away with them by force Joulai, and that around our
ramparts unknown people were galloping. The thought that Marya Ivanofna
had not been able to get away terrified me to death. I hastily gave some
orders to the corporal, and I ran to the Commandant's house.

Day was breaking. I was hurrying down the street when I heard myself
called by someone. I stopped.

"Where are you going, if I may presume to ask you? " said Iwan
Ignatiitch, catching me up. "Ivan Kouzmitch is on the ramparts, and has
sent me to seek you. The '_pugatch_'[52] has come. "

"Is Marya Ivanofna gone? " I asked, with an inward trembling.

"She hasn't had time," rejoined Iwan Ignatiitch. "The road to Orenburg
is blocked, the fort surrounded, and it's a bad look-out, Petr'
Andrejitch. "

We went to the ramparts, a little natural height, and fortified by a
palisade. We found the garrison here under arms. The cannon had been
dragged hither the preceding evening. The Commandant was walking up and
down before his little party; the approach of danger had given the old
warrior wonderful activity. Out on the steppe, and not very far from the
fort, could be seen about twenty horsemen, who appeared to be Cossacks;
but amongst them were some Bashkirs, easily distinguished by their high
caps and their quivers. The Commandant passed down the ranks of the
little army, saying to the soldiers--

"Now, children, let us do well to-day for our mother, the Empress, and
let us show all the world that we are brave men, and true to our
oaths. "

The soldiers by loud shouts expressed their goodwill and assent.
Chvabrine remained near me, attentively watching the enemy. The people
whom we could see on the steppe, noticing doubtless some stir in the
fort, gathered into parties, and consulted together. The Commandant
ordered Iwan Ignatiitch to point the cannon at them, and himself applied
the match. The ball passed whistling over their heads without doing them
any harm. The horsemen at once dispersed at a gallop, and the steppe was
deserted.

At this moment Vassilissa Igorofna appeared on the ramparts, followed by
Marya, who had not wished to leave her.

"Well," said the Commandant's wife, "how goes the battle? Where is the
enemy? "

"The enemy is not far," replied Ivan Kouzmitch; "but if God wills all
will be well. And you, Masha, are you afraid? "

"No, papa," replied Marya, "I am more frightened alone in the house. "

She glanced at me, trying to smile. I squeezed the hilt of my sword,
remembering that I had received it the eve from her hand, as if for her
defence. My heart burnt within my breast; I felt as if I were her
knight; I thirsted to prove to her that I was worthy of her trust, and I
impatiently expected the decisive moment.

All at once, coming from a height about eight versts from the fort,
appeared fresh parties of horsemen, and soon the whole steppe became
covered with people, armed with arrows and lances. Amongst them, dressed
in a red caftan, sword in hand, might be seen a man mounted on a white
horse, a conspicuous figure. This was Pugatchef himself.

He stopped, and they closed round him, and soon afterwards, probably by
his orders, four men came out of the crowd, and approached our ramparts
at full gallop. We recognized in them some of our traitors. One of them
waved a sheet of paper above his head; another bore on the point of his
pike the head of Joulai, which he cast to us over the palisade. The head
of the poor Kalmuck rolled to the feet of the Commandant.

The traitors shouted to us--

"Don't fire. Come out to receive the Tzar; the Tzar is here. "

"Children, fire! " cried the Commandant for all answer.

The soldiers fired a volley. The Cossack who had the letter quivered and
fell from his horse; the others fled at full speed. I glanced at Marya
Ivanofna.
Spellbound with horror at the sight of Joulai's head, stunned
by the noise of the volley, she seemed unconscious. The Commandant
called the corporal, and bid him go and take the paper from the fallen
Cossack. The corporal went out into the open, and came back leading by
its bridle the dead man's horse. He gave the letter to the Commandant.

Ivan Kouzmitch read it in a low voice, and tore it into bits. We now saw
that the rebels were making ready to attack. Soon the bullets whistled
about our ears, and some arrows came quivering around us in the earth
and in the posts of the palisade.

"Vassilissa Igorofna," said the Commandant, "this is not a place for
women. Take away Masha; you see very well that the girl is more dead
than alive. "

Vassilissa Igorofna, whom the sound of the bullets had somewhat subdued,
glanced towards the steppe, where a great stir was visible in the crowd,
and said to her husband--

"Ivan Kouzmitch, life and death are in God's hands; bless Masha. Masha,
go to your father. "

Pale and trembling, Marya approached Ivan Kouzmitch and dropped on her
knees, bending before him with reverence.

The old Commandant made the sign of the cross three times over her, then
raised her up, kissed her, and said to her, in a voice husky with
emotion--

"Well, Masha, may you be happy. Pray to God, and He will not forsake
you. If an honest man come forward, may God grant you both love and
wisdom. Live together as we have lived, my wife and I. And now farewell,
Masha. Vassilissa Igorofna, take her away quickly. "

Marya threw herself upon his neck and began sobbing.

"Kiss me, too," said the Commandant's wife, weeping. "Good-bye, my Ivan
Kouzmitch. Forgive me if I have ever vexed you. "

"Good-bye, good-bye, little mother," said the Commandant, embracing his
old companion. "There, now, enough; go away home, and if you have time
put Masha on a '_sarafan_. '"[53]

The Commandant's wife went away with her daughter. I followed Marya with
my eyes; she turned round and made me a last sign.

Ivan Kouzmitch came back to us, and turned his whole attention to the
enemy. The rebels gathered round their leader, and all at once
dismounted hastily.

"Be ready," the Commandant said to us, "the assault is about to begin. "

At the same moment resounded wild war cries. The rebels were racing down
on the fort. Our cannon was loaded with grape. The Commandant allowed
them to approach within a very short distance, and again applied a
match to the touch-hole. The grape struck in the midst of the crowd, and
dispersed it in every direction. The leader alone remained to the fore,
brandishing his sword; he appeared to be exhorting them hotly. The yells
which had ceased for a moment were redoubled anew.

"Now, children," cried the Commandant, "open the door, beat the drum,
and forward! Follow me for a sally! "

The Commandant, Iwan Ignatiitch, and I found ourselves in a moment
beyond the parapet. But the garrison, afraid, had not stirred.

"What are you doing, my children? " shouted Ivan Kouzmitch. "If we must
die, let us die; it is our duty. "

At this moment the rebels fell upon us and forced the entrance of the
citadel. The drum ceased, the garrison threw down its arms. I had been
thrown down, but I got up and passed helter-skelter with the crowd into
the fort. I saw the Commandant wounded in the head, and hard pressed by
a little band of robbers clamouring for the keys. I was running to help
him, when several strong Cossacks seized me, and bound me with their
"_kuchaks_,"[54] shouting--

"Wait a bit, you will see what will become of you traitors to the Tzar! "

We were dragged along the streets. The inhabitants came out of their
houses, offering bread and salt. The bells were rung. All at once shouts
announced that the Tzar was in the square waiting to receive the oaths
of the prisoners. All the crowd diverged in that direction, and our
keepers dragged us thither.

Pugatchef was seated in an armchair on the threshold of the Commandant's
house. He wore an elegant Cossack caftan, embroidered down the seams. A
high cap of marten sable, ornamented with gold tassels, came closely
down over his flashing eyes. His face did not seem unknown to me. The
Cossack chiefs surrounded him. Father Garasim, pale and trembling, was
standing, cross in hand, at the foot of the steps, and seemed to be
silently praying for the victims brought before him. In the square a
gallows was being hastily erected. When we came near, some Bashkirs
drove back the crowd, and we were presented to Pugatchef.

The bells ceased clanging, and the deepest silence reigned again.

"Where is the Commandant? " asked the usurper. Our "_ouriadnik_" came
forward and pointed out Ivan Kouzmitch. Pugatchef looked fiercely upon
the old man and said to him, "How was it you dared to oppose me, your
rightful Emperor? "

The Commandant, enfeebled by his wound, collected his remaining
strength, and replied, in a resolute tone--

"You are not my Emperor; you are a usurper and a robber! "

Pugatchef frowned and waved his white handkerchief. Several Cossacks
immediately seized the old Commandant and dragged him away to the
gallows. Astride on the crossbeam, sat the disfigured Bashkir who had
been cross-examined on the preceding evening; he held a rope in his
hand, and I saw the next moment poor Ivan Kouzmitch swinging in the air.
Then Iwan Ignatiitch was brought before Pugatchef.

"Swear fidelity," Pugatchef said to him, "to the Emperor, Petr'
Fedorovitch! "[55]

"You are not our Emperor! " replied the lieutenant, repeating his
Commandant's words; "you are a robber, my uncle, and a usurper. "

Pugatchef again gave the handkerchief signal, and good Iwan Ignatiitch
swung beside his old chief. It was my turn. Boldly I looked on Pugatchef
and made ready to echo the answer of my outspoken comrades.

Then, to my inexpressible surprise, I saw among the rebels Chvabrine,
who had found time to cut his hair short and to put on a Cossack caftan.
He approached Pugatchef, and whispered a few words in his ear.

"Hang him! " said Pugatchef, without deigning to throw me a look. The
rope was passed about my neck. I began saying a prayer in a low voice,
offering up to God a sincere repentance for all my sins, imploring Him
to save all those who were dear to my heart. I was already at the foot
of the gallows.

"Fear nothing! Fear nothing! " the assassins said to me, perhaps to give
me courage, when all at once a shout was heard--

"Stop, accursed ones! "

The executioners stayed their hand. I looked up. Saveliitch lay
prostrate at the feet of Pugatchef.

"Oh! my own father! " my poor follower was saying. "What need have you of
the death of this noble child? Let him go free, and you will get a good
ransom; but for an example and to frighten the rest, let them hang me,
an old man! "

Pugatchef gave a signal; I was immediately unbound.

"Our father shows you mercy," they said to me. At this moment I cannot
say that I was much overjoyed at my deliverance, but I cannot say either
that I regretted it, for my feelings were too upset. I was again brought
before the usurper and forced to kneel at his feet. Pugatchef held out
to me his muscular hand. "Kiss his hand! kiss his hand! " was shouted
around me. But rather would I have preferred the most cruel torture to
such an abasement.

"My father, Petr' Andrejitch," whispered Saveliitch to me, and nudged me
with his elbow, "don't be obstinate. What does it matter? Spit and kiss
the hand of the rob--, kiss his hand! "

I did not stir. Pugatchef withdrew his hand and said, smiling--

"Apparently his lordship is quite idiotic with joy; raise him. "

I was helped up and left free. The infamous drama drew to a close.

The villagers began to swear fidelity. One after another they came near,
kissed the cross, and saluted the usurper. Then it came to the turn of
the soldiers of the garrison. The tailor of the company, armed with his
big blunt scissors, cut off their queues. They shook their heads and
touched their lips to Pugatchef's hand; the latter told them they were
pardoned and enrolled amongst his troops.

All this lasted about three hours. At last Pugatchef rose from his
armchair and went down the steps, followed by his chiefs. There was
brought for him a white horse, richly caparisoned. Two Cossacks held his
arms and helped him into the saddle.

He announced to Father Garasim that he would dine at his house. At this
moment arose a woman's heartrending shrieks. Some robbers were dragging
to the steps Vassilissa Igorofna, with dishevelled hair and
half-dressed. One of them had already appropriated her cloak; the others
were carrying off the mattresses, boxes, linen, tea sets, and all manner
of things.

"Oh, my fathers! " cried the poor old woman. "Let me alone, I pray you;
my fathers, my fathers, bring me to Ivan Kouzmitch. " All of a sudden
she perceived the gallows and recognized her husband. "Villains! " she
exclaimed, beside herself; "what have you done? Oh, my light, my Ivan
Kouzmitch! Bold soldier heart, neither Prussian bayonets nor Turkish
bullets ever harmed you; and you have died before a vile runaway felon. "

"Silence the old witch," said Pugatchef.

A young Cossack struck her with his sword on the head, and she fell dead
at the foot of the steps. Pugatchef went away, all the people crowding
in his train.




CHAPTER VIII.

THE UNEXPECTED VISIT.


The square remained empty. I stood in the same place, unable to collect
my thoughts, disturbed by so many terrible events.

My uncertainty about Marya Ivanofna's fate tormented me more than I can
say. Where was she? What had become of her? Had she had time to hide
herself? Was her place of refuge safe and sure? Full of these oppressive
thoughts, I went to the Commandant's house. All was empty. The chairs,
the tables, the presses were burned, and the crockery in bits; the
place was in dreadful disorder. I quickly ran up the little stair which
led to Marya's room, where I was about to enter for the first time in my
life.

Her bed was topsy-turvy, the press open and ransacked. A lamp still
burned before the "_kivott_"[56] equally empty; but a small
looking-glass hanging between the door and window had not been taken
away. What had become of the inmate of this simple maiden's cell? A
terrible apprehension crossed my mind. I thought of Marya in the hands
of the robbers. My heart failed me; I burst into tears and murmured the
name of my loved one. At this moment I heard a slight noise, and
Polashka, very pale, came out from behind the press.

"Oh, Petr' Andrejitch," said she, wringing her hands; "what a day, what
horrors! "

"Marya Ivanofna," cried I, impatiently, "where is Marya Ivanofna? "

"The young lady is alive," replied Polashka; "she is hidden at Akoulina
Pamphilovna's. "

"In the pope's house! " I exclaimed, affrighted. "Good God! Pugatchef is
there! "

I rushed out of the room, in two jumps I was in the street and running
wildly towards the pope's house. From within there resounded songs,
shouts, and bursts of laughter; Pugatchef was at the table with his
companions. Polashka had followed me; I sent her secretly to call aside
Akoulina Pamphilovna. The next minute the pope's wife came out into the
ante-room, an empty bottle in her hand.

"In heaven's name where is Marya Ivanofna? " I asked, with indescribable
agitation.

"She is in bed, the little dove," replied the pope's wife, "in my bed,
behind the partition. Ah! Petr' Andrejitch, a misfortune very nearly
happened. But, thank God, all has passed happily over. The villain had
scarcely sat down to table before the poor darling began to moan. I
nearly died of fright. He heard her. "

"'Who is that moaning, old woman? ' said he.

"I saluted the robber down to the ground.

"'My niece, Tzar; she has been ill and in bed for more than a week. '

"'And your niece, is she young? '

"'She is young, Tzar. '

"'Let us see, old woman; show me your niece. '

"I felt my heart fail me; but what could I do?

"'Very well, Tzar; but the girl is not strong enough to rise and come
before your grace. '

"'That's nothing, old woman; I'll go myself and see her. '

"And, would you believe it, the rascal actually went behind the
partition. He drew aside the curtain, looked at her with his hawk's
eyes, and nothing more; God helped us. You may believe me when I say the
father and I were already prepared to die the death of martyrs. Luckily
the little dove did not recognize him. O, Lord God! what have we lived
to see! Poor Ivan Kouzmitch! who would have thought it! And Vassilissa
Igorofna and Iwan Ignatiitch! Why him too? And you, how came it that you
were spared? And what do you think of Chvabrine, of Alexy Ivanytch? He
has cut his hair short, and he is there having a spree with them. He is
a sly fox, you'll agree. And when I spoke of my sick niece, would you
believe it, he looked at me as if he would like to run me through with
his knife. Still, he did not betray us, and I'm thankful to him for
that!