The Daughter of the Commandant Part 20

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I gave my name. Marya's gentle voice was then heard through the door.

"Wait, Petr' Andrejtch," said she, "I am changing my dress. Go to Akoulina Pamphilovna's; I shall be there in a minute."

I obeyed and went to Father Garasim's house.

The pope and his wife hastened to meet me. Saveliitch had already told them all that had happened.

"Good-day, Petr' Andrejtch," the pope's wife said to me; "here has G.o.d so ruled that we meet again. How are you? We have talked about you every day. And Marya Ivanofna, what has she not suffered anent you, my pigeon?



But tell me, my father, how did you get out of the difficulty with Pugatchef? How was it that he did not kill you? Well, for _that_, thanks be to the villain."

"There, hush, old woman," interrupted Father Garasim; "don't gossip about all you know; too much talk, no salvation. Come in, Petr'

Andrejtch, and welcome. It is long since we have seen each other."

The pope's wife did me honour with everything she had at hand, without ceasing a moment to talk.

She told me how Chvabrine had obliged them to deliver up Marya Ivanofna to him; how the poor girl cried, and would not be parted from them; how she had had continual intercourse with them through the medium of Polashka, a resolute, sharp girl who made the _"ouriadnik"_ himself dance (as they say) to the sound of her flageolet; how she had counselled Marya Ivanofna to write me a letter, etc. As for me, in a few words I told my story.

The pope and his wife crossed themselves when they heard that Pugatchef was aware they had deceived him.

"May the power of the cross be with us!" Akoulina Pamphilovna said. "May G.o.d turn aside this cloud. Very well, Alexey Ivanytch, we shall see! Oh!

the sly fox!"

At this moment the door opened, and Marya Ivanofna appeared, with a smile on her pale face. She had changed her peasant dress, and was dressed as usual, simply and suitably. I seized her hand, and could not for a while say a single word. We were both silent, our hearts were too full.

Our hosts felt we had other things to do than to talk to them; they left us. We remained alone. Marya told me all that had befallen her since the taking of the fort; painted me the horrors of her position, all the torment the infamous Chvabrine had made her suffer. We recalled to each other the happy past, both of us shedding tears the while.

At last I could tell her my plans. It was impossible for her to stay in a fort which had submitted to Pugatchef, and where Chvabrine was in command. Neither could I dream of taking refuge with her in Orenburg, where at this juncture all the miseries of a siege were being undergone.

Marya had no longer a single relation in the world. Therefore I proposed to her that she should go to my parents' country house.

She was very much surprised at such a proposal. The displeasure my father had shown on her account frightened her. But I soothed her. I knew my father would deem it a duty and an honour to shelter in his house the daughter of a veteran who had died for his country.

"Dear Marya," I said, at last, "I look upon you as my wife. These strange events have irrevocably united us. Nothing in the whole world can part us any more."

Marya heard me in dignified silence, without misplaced affectation. She felt as I did, that her destiny was irrevocably linked with mine; still, she repeated that she would only be my wife with my parents' consent. I had nothing to answer. We fell in each other's arms, and my project became our mutual decision.

An hour afterwards the "_ouriadnik_" brought me my safe-conduct pa.s.s, with the scrawl which did duty as Pugatchef's signature, and told me the Tzar awaited me in his house.

I found him ready to start.

How express what I felt in the presence of this man, awful and cruel for all, myself only excepted? And why not tell the whole truth? At this moment I felt a strong sympathy with him. I wished earnestly to draw him from the band of robbers of which he was the chief, and save his head ere it should be too late.

The presence of Chvabrine and of the crowd around us prevented me from expressing to him all the feelings which filled my heart.

We parted friends.

Pugatchef saw in the crowd Akoulina Pamphilovna, and amicably threatened her with his finger, with a meaning wink. Then he seated himself in his _"kibitka"_ and gave the word to return to Berd. When the horses started, he leaned out of his carriage and shouted to me--

"Farewell, your lords.h.i.+p; it may be we shall yet meet again!"

We did, indeed, see one another once again; but under what circ.u.mstances!

Pugatchef was gone.

I long watched the steppe over which his _"kibitka"_ was rapidly gliding.

The crowd dwindled away; Chvabrine disappeared. I went back to the pope's house, where all was being made ready for our departure. Our little luggage had been put in the old vehicle of the Commandant. In a moment the horses were harnessed.

Marya went to bid a last farewell to the tomb of her parents, buried behind the church.

I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, and soon came back, weeping quiet tears.

Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took our seats, three abreast, inside the "_kibitka_," and Saveliitch again perched in front.

"Good-bye, Marya Ivanofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andrejtch, our gay goshawk!" the pope's wife cried to us. "A lucky journey to you, and may G.o.d give you abundant happiness!"

We started. At the Commandant's window I saw Chvabrine standing, with a face of dark hatred.

I did not wish to triumph meanly over a humbled enemy, and looked away from him.

At last we pa.s.sed the princ.i.p.al gate, and for ever left Fort Belogorsk.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ARREST.

Reunited in so marvellous a manner to the young girl who, that very morning even, had caused me so much unhappy disquiet, I could not believe in my happiness, and I deemed all that had befallen me a dream.

Marya looked sometimes thoughtfully upon me and sometimes upon the road, and did not seem either to have recovered her senses. We kept silence--our hearts were too weary with emotion.

At the end of two hours we had already reached the neighbouring fort, which also belonged to Pugatchef. We changed horses there.

By the alertness with which we were served and the eager zeal of the bearded Cossack whom Pugatchef had appointed Commandant, I saw that, thanks to the talk of the postillion who had driven us, I was taken for a favourite of the master.

When we again set forth it was getting dark. We were approaching a little town where, according to the bearded Commandant, there ought to be a strong detachment on the march to join the usurper.

The sentries stopped us, and to the shout, "Who goes there?" our postillion replied aloud--

"The Tzar's gossip, travelling with his good woman."

Immediately a party of Russian hussars surrounded us with awful oaths.

"Get out, devil's gossip!" a Quartermaster with thick moustachios said to me.

"We'll give you a bath, you and your good woman!"

The Daughter of the Commandant Part 20

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