No More Learning

I took it trembling. The address was written in my father's hand.

This prepared me for something serious, since it was usually my mother
who wrote, and he only added a few lines at the end. For a long time I
could not make up my mind to break the seal. I read over the solemn
address:--

"To my son, Petr' Andrejitch Grineff, District of Orenburg, Fort
Belogorsk. "

I tried to guess from my father's handwriting in what mood he had
written the letter. At last I resolved to open it, and I did not need to
read more than the first few lines to see that the whole affair was at
the devil. Here are the contents of this letter:--

"My Son Petr',--

"We received the 15th of this month the letter in which you ask our
parental blessing and our consent to your marriage with Marya Ivanofna,
the Mironoff daughter. [46] And not only have I no intention of giving
you either my blessing or my consent, but I intend to come and punish
you well for your follies, like a little boy, in spite of your officer's
rank, because you have shown me that you are not fit to wear the sword
entrusted to you for the defence of your country, and not for fighting
duels with fools like yourself. I shall write immediately to Andrej
Karlovitch to beg him to send you away from Fort Belogorsk to some place
still further removed, so that you may get over this folly.

"Upon hearing of your duel and wound your mother fell ill with sorrow,
and she is still confined to her bed.

"What will become of you? I pray God may correct you, though I scarcely
dare trust in His goodness.

"Your father,

"A. G. "

The perusal of this letter aroused in me a medley of feelings. The
harsh expressions which my father had not scrupled to make use of hurt
me deeply; the contempt which he cast on Marya Ivanofna appeared to me
as unjust as it was unseemly; while, finally, the idea of being sent
away from Fort Belogorsk dismayed me. But I was, above all, grieved at
my mother's illness.

I was disgusted with Saveliitch, never doubting that it was he who had
made known my duel to my parents. After walking up and down awhile in my
little room, I suddenly stopped short before him, and said to him,
angrily--

"It seems that it did not satisfy you that, thanks to you, I've been
wounded and at death's door, but that you must also want to kill my
mother as well. "

Saveliitch remained motionless, as it struck by a thunderbolt.

"Have pity on me, sir," he exclaimed, almost sobbing. "What is it you
deign to tell me--that I am the cause of your wound? But God knows I was
only running to stand between you and Alexey Ivanytch's sword. Accursed
old age alone prevented me. What have I now done to your mother? "

"What did you do? " I retorted. "Who told you to write and denounce me?
Were you put in my service to be a spy upon me? "

"I denounce you! " replied Saveliitch, in tears. "Oh, good heavens! Here,
be so good as to read what master has written to me, and see if it was I
who denounced you. "

With this he drew from his pocket a letter, which he offered to me, and
I read as follows:--

"Shame on you, you old dog, for never writing and telling me anything
about my son, Petr' Andrejitch, in spite of my strict orders, and that
it should be from strangers that I learn his follies! Is it thus you do
your duty and act up to your master's wishes? I shall send you to keep
the pigs, old rascal, for having hid from me the truth, and for your
weak compliance with the lad's whims. On receipt of this letter, I order
you to let me know directly the state of his health, which, judging by
what I hear, is improving, and to tell me exactly the place where he was
hit, and if the wound be well healed. "

Evidently Saveliitch had not been the least to blame, and it was I who
had insulted him by my suspicions and reproaches. I begged his pardon,
but the old man was inconsolable.

"That I should have lived to see it! " repeated he. "These be the thanks
that I have deserved of my masters for all my long service. I am an old
dog. I'm only fit, to keep pigs, and in addition to all this I am the
cause of your wound. No, my father, Petr' Andrejitch, 'tis not I who am
to blame, it is rather the confounded '_mossoo_;' it was he who taught
you to fight with those iron spits, stamping your foot, as though by
ramming and stamping you could defend yourself from a bad man. It was,
indeed, worth while spending money upon a '_mossoo_' to teach you that. "

But who could have taken the trouble to tell my father what I had done.
The General? He did not seem to trouble himself much about me; and,
indeed, Ivan Kouzmitch had not thought it necessary to report my duel to
him. I could not think. My suspicions fell upon Chvabrine; he alone
could profit by this betrayal, which might end in my banishment from the
fort and my separation from the Commandant's family. I was going to tell
all to Marya Ivanofna when she met me on the doorstep.

"What has happened? " she said to me. "How pale you are! "

"All is at an end," replied I, handing her my father's letter.

In her turn she grew pale. After reading the letter she gave it me back,
and said, in a voice broken by emotion--

"It was not my fate. Your parents do not want me in your family; God's
will be done! God knows better than we do what is fit for us. There is
nothing to be done, Petr' Andrejitch; may you at least be happy. "

"It shall not be thus! " I exclaimed, seizing her hand. "You love me; I
am ready for anything. Let us go and throw ourselves at your parents'
feet. They are honest people, neither proud nor hard; they--they will
give us their blessing--we will marry, and then with time, I am sure, we
shall succeed in mollifying my father. My mother will intercede for us,
and he will forgive me. "

"No, Petr' Andrejitch," replied Marya, "I will not marry you without
the blessing of your parents. Without their blessing you would not be
happy. Let us submit to the will of God. Should you meet with another
betrothed, should you love her, _God be with you_,[47] Petr' Andrejitch,
I--I will pray for you both. "

She began to cry, and went away. I meant to follow her to her room; but
I felt unable to control myself, and I went home. I was seated, deep in
melancholy reflections, when Saveliitch suddenly came and interrupted
me.

"Here, sir," said he, handing me a sheet of paper all covered with
writing, "see if I be a spy on my master, and if I try to sow discord
betwixt father and son. "

I took the paper from his hand; it was Saveliitch's reply to the letter
he had received. Here it is word for word--

"My lord, Andrej Petrovitch, our gracious father, I have received your
gracious letter, in which you deign to be angered with me, your serf,
bidding me be ashamed of not obeying my master's orders. And I, who am
not an old dog, but your faithful servant, I do obey my master's orders,
and I have ever served you zealously, even unto white hairs. I did not
write to you about Petr' Andrejitch's wound in order not to frighten you
without cause, and now we hear that our mistress, our mother, Avdotia
Vassilieva is ill of fright, and I shall go and pray heaven for her
health. Petr' Andrejitch has been wounded in the chest, beneath the
right shoulder, under one rib, to the depth of a _verchok_[48] and a
half, and he has been taken care of in the Commandant's house, whither
we brought him from the river bank, and it was the barber here, Stepan
Paramonoff, who treated him; and now Petr' Andrejitch, thank God, is
going on well, and there is nothing but good to tell of him. His
superiors, according to hearsay, are well pleased with him, and
Vassilissa Igorofna treats him as her own son; and because such an
affair should have happened to him you must not reproach him; the horse
may have four legs and yet stumble. And you deign to write that you will
send me to keep the pigs. My lord's will be done. And now I salute you
down to the ground.

"Your faithful serf,

"ARKHIP SAVELIEFF. "

I could not help smiling once or twice as I read the good old man's
letter. I did not feel equal to writing to my father. And to make my
mother easy the letter of Saveliitch seemed to me amply sufficient.

From this day my position underwent a change. Marya Ivanofna scarcely
ever spoke to me, and even tried to avoid me. The Commandant's house
became unbearable to me; little by little I accustomed myself to stay
alone in my quarters.

At first Vassilissa Igorofna remonstrated, but, seeing I persisted in my
line of conduct, she left me in peace. I only saw Ivan Kouzmitch when
military duties brought us in contact. I had only rare interviews with
Chvabrine, whom I disliked the more that I thought I perceived in him a
secret enmity, which confirmed all the more my suspicions. Life became a
burden to me. I gave myself up, a prey to dark melancholy, which was
further fed by loneliness and inaction. My love burnt the more hotly for
my enforced quiet, and tormented me more and more. I lost all liking for
reading and literature. I was allowing myself to be completely cast
down, and I dreaded either becoming mad or dissolute, when events
suddenly occurred which strongly influenced my life, and gave my mind a
profound and salutary rousing.




CHAPTER VI.

PUGATCHEF.


Before beginning to relate those strange events to which I was witness,
I must say a few words about the state of affairs in the district of
Orenburg about the end of the year 1773. This rich and large province
was peopled by a crowd of half-savage tribes, who had lately
acknowledged the sovereignty of the Russian Tzars. Their perpetual
revolts, their impatience of all rule and civilized life, their
treachery and cruelty, obliged the authorities to keep a sharp watch
upon them in order to reduce them to submission.

Forts had been placed at suitable points, and in most of them troops
had been permanently established, composed of Cossacks, formerly
possessors of the banks of the River Yaik. But even these Cossacks, who
should have been a guarantee for the peace and quiet of the country, had
for some time shown a dangerous and unruly spirit towards the Imperial
Government. In 1772 a riot took place in the principal settlement. This
riot was occasioned by the severe measures taken by General Traubenberg,
in order to quell the insubordination of the army. The only result was
the barbarous murder of Traubenberg, the substitution of new chiefs, and
at last the suppression of the revolt by volleys of grape and harsh
penalties.

All this befell shortly before my coming to Fort Belogorsk. Then all
was, or seemed, quiet. But the authorities had too lightly lent faith
to the pretended repentance of the rebels, who were silently brooding
over their hatred, and only awaiting a favourable opportunity to reopen
the struggle.

One evening (it was early in October, 1773) I was alone in my quarters,
listening to the whistling of the autumn wind and watching the clouds
passing rapidly over the moon. A message came from the Commandant that
he wished to see me at once at his house. I found there Chvabrine, Iwan
Ignatiitch, and the "_ouriadnik_" of the Cossacks. Neither the wife nor
daughter of the Commandant was in the room. He greeted me in an absent
manner. Then, closing the door, he made everybody sit down, except the
"_ouriadnik_," who remained standing, drew a letter from his pocket, and
said to us--

"Gentlemen, important news. Listen to what the General writes. "

He put on his spectacles and read as follows:--

"_To the Commandant of Fort Belogorsk,

"Captain Mironoff, these. (Secret. )_

"I hereby inform you that the fugitive and schismatic Don Cossack,
Emelian Pugatchef, after being guilty of the unpardonable insolence of
usurping the name of our late Emperor, Peter III. ,[49] has assembled a
gang of robbers, excited risings in villages on the Yaik, and taken and
oven destroyed several forts, while committing everywhere robberies and
murders. In consequence, when you shall receive this, it will be your
duty to take such measures as may be necessary against the aforesaid
rascally usurper, and, if possible, crush him completely should he
venture to attack the fort confided to your care. "

"Take such measures as may be necessary," said the Commandant, taking
off his spectacles and folding up the paper. "You know it is very easy
to say that. The scoundrel seems in force, and we have but a hundred and
thirty men, even counting the Cossacks, on whom we must not count too
much, be it said, without any reproach to you, Maximitch. " The
"_ouriadnik_" smiled. "Nevertheless, let us do our duty, gentlemen. Be
ready, place sentries, let there be night patrols in case of attack,
shut the gates, and turn out the troops. You, Maximitch, keep a sharp
eye on the Cossacks; look to the cannon, and let it be well cleansed;
and, above all, let everything be kept secret. Let no one in the fort
know anything until the time comes. "

After thus giving his orders, Ivan Kouzmitch dismissed us. I went out
with Chvabrine, speculating upon what we had just heard.

"What do you think of it? How will it all end? " I asked him.

"God knows," said he; "we shall see. As yet there is evidently nothing
serious. If, however--"

Then he fell into a brown study while whistling absently a French air.

In spite of all our precautions the news of Pugatchef's appearance
spread all over the fort. Whatever was the respect in which Ivan
Kouzmitch held his wife, he would not have revealed to her for the world
a secret confided to him on military business.

After receiving the General's letter he had rather cleverly got rid of
Vassilissa Igorofna by telling her that Father Garasim had heard most
extraordinary news from Orenburg, which he was keeping most profoundly
dark.

Vassilissa Igorofna instantly had a great wish to go and see the Pope's
wife, and, by the advice of Ivan Kouzmitch, she took Masha, lest she
should be dull all alone.

Left master of the field, Ivan Kouzmitch sent to fetch us at once, and
took care to shut up Polashka in the kitchen so that she might not spy
upon us.

Vassilissa Igorofna came home without having been able to worm anything
out of the Pope's wife; she learnt upon coming in that during her
absence Ivan Kouzmitch had held a council of war, and that Palashka had
been locked up. She suspected that her husband had deceived her, and she
immediately began overwhelming him with questions. But Ivan Kouzmitch
was ready for this onset; he did not care in the least, and he boldly
answered his curious better-half--

"Look here, little mother, the country-women have taken it into their
heads to light fires with straw, and as that might be the cause of a
misfortune, I assembled my officers, and I ordered them to watch that
the women do not make fires with straw, but rather with faggots and
brambles. "

"And why were you obliged to shut up Polashka? " his wife asked him. "Why
was the poor girl obliged to stay in the kitchen till we came back? "

Ivan Kouzmitch was not prepared for such a question; he stammered some
incoherent words.

Vassilissa Igorofna instantly understood that her husband had deceived
her, but as she could not at that moment get anything out of him, she
forebore questioning him, and spoke of some pickled cucumbers which
Akoulina Pamphilovna knew how to prepare in a superlative manner. All
night long Vassilissa Igorofna lay awake trying to think what her
husband could have in his head that she was not permitted to know.

The morrow, on her return from mass, she saw Iwan Ignatiitch busy
clearing the cannon of the rags, small stones, bits of wood,
knuckle-bones, and all kinds of rubbish that the little boys had crammed
it with.

"What can these warlike preparations mean? " thought the Commandant's
wife. "Can it be that they are afraid of an attack by the Kirghiz; but
then is it likely that Ivan Kouzmitch would hide from me such a trifle? "

She called Iwan Ignatiitch, determined to have out of him the secret
which was provoking her feminine curiosity.

Vassilissa Igorofna began by making to him some remarks on household
matters, like a judge who begins a cross-examination by questions
irrelevant to the subject in hand, in order to reassure and lull the
watchfulness of the accused. Then, after a few minutes' silence, she
gave a deep sigh, and said, shaking her head--

"Oh! good Lord! Just think what news! What will come of all this? "

"Eh! my little mother," replied Iwan Ignatiitch; "the Lord is merciful.
We have soldiers enough, and much, powder; I have cleared the cannon.
Perhaps we may be able to defeat this Pugatchef. If God do not forsake
us, the wolf will eat none of us here. "

"And what manner of man is this Pugatchef? " questioned the Commandant's
wife.

Iwan Ignatiitch saw plainly that he had said too much, and bit his
tongue; but it was too late. Vassilissa Igorofna obliged him to tell her
all, after giving her word that she would tell no one.

She kept her promise, and did not breathe a word indeed to anyone, save
only to the Pope's wife, and that for the very good reason that the good
lady's cow, being still out on the steppe, might be "lifted" by the
robbers.

Soon everybody was talking of Pugatchef. The rumours abroad about him
were very diverse. 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_.