The kibitka stopped before the Commandant’s house. The inhabitants had
recognized the usurper’s bells and equipage, and had come out in crowds
to meet him. Alexis, dressed like a Cossack, and bearded like one,
helped the brigand to descend from his kibitka. The sight of me troubled
him, but soon recovering himself, he said: “You are one of us?” I turned
my head away without replying. My heart was wrung when we entered
the room that I know so well, where still upon the wall hung, like an
epitaph, the diploma of the deceased Commandant. Pougatcheff seated
himself upon the same sofa where many a time Ivan Mironoff had dozed to
the hum of his wife’s voice. Alexis’ own hand presented the brandy to
his chief. Pougatcheff drank a glass and said, pointing to me: “Offer a
glass to his lordship.” Alexis approached me, and again I turned my back
upon him. Pougatcheff asked him a few questions about the condition of
the fortress, and then, in an unpremeditated manner, said: “Tell me, who
is this young girl that you have under guard?”
Alexis became pale as death. “Czar,” said he, a tremor in his voice,
“she is in her own room; she is not locked up.”
“Take me to her room,” said the usurper, rising.
Hesitation was impossible. Alexis led the way to Marie’s room. I
followed. On the stairs Alexis stopped: “Czar, demand of me what you
will, but do not permit a stranger to enter my wife’s room.”
“You are married?” I shouted, ready to tear him to pieces.
“Silence!” interrupted the brigand, “this is my business. And you,” said
he, turning to Alexis, “do not be too officious. Whether she be your
wife or not, I shall take whom I please into her room. Your lordship,
follow me.”
At the door of the room Alexis stopped again: “Czar, she has had a fever
these three days; she is delirious.”
“Open,” said Pougatcheff.
Alexis fumbled in his pockets, and at last said that he had forgotten
the key. Pougatcheff kicked the door; the lock yielded, the door opened
and we entered.
I glanced into the room, and nearly fainted. On the floor, in the coarse
dress of a peasant, Marie was seated, pale, thin, her hair in disorder;
before her on the floor stood a pitcher of water covered by a piece
of bread. Upon seeing me, she started, and uttered a piercing shriek.
Pougatcheff glanced at Alexis, smiled bitterly, and said: “Your hospital
is in nice order?”
“Tell me, my little dove, why does your husband punish you in this way?”
“My husband! he is not my husband. I am resolved to die rather than
marry him; and I shall die, if not soon released.”
Pougatcheff gave a furious look at Alexis, and said: “Do you dare to
deceive me, knave?”
Alexis fell on his knees. Contempt stifled all my feelings of hatred
and vengeance. I saw with disgust, a gentleman kneeling at the feet of a
Cossack deserter.
“I pardon you, this time,” said the brigand, “but remember, your next
fault will recall this one.” He turned to Marie, and said, gently: “Come
out, my pretty girl, you are free. I am the Czar!”
Marie looked at him, hid her face in her hands and fell on the floor
unconscious. She had no doubt divined that he had caused her parents’
death. I rushed to aid her, when my old acquaintance, Polacca, boldly
entered, and hastened to revive her mistress. Pougatcheff, Alexis and I
went down to the reception room.
“Now, your lordship, we have released the pretty girl, what say you?
Shall we not send for Father Garasim, and have him perform the marriage
ceremony for his niece? If you like, I will be your father by proxy,
Alexis your groomsman; then we’ll shut the gates and make merry!”
As I anticipated, Alexis, hearing this speech, lost his self-control.
“Czar,” said he, in a fury, “I am guilty; I have lied to you, but
Grineff also deceives you. This young girl is not Father Garasim’s
niece. She is Ivan Mironoff’s daughter.”
Pougatcheff glared at me. “What does that mean?” said he to me.
“Alexis says truly,” I replied, firmly.
“You did not tell me that,” said the usurper, whose face darkened.
“Judge of it yourself. Could I declare before your people that Marie was
Captain Mironoff’s daughter? They would have torn her to pieces. No one
could have saved her.”
“You are right,” said Pougatcheff, “my drunkards would not have spared
the child. Accoulina did well to deceive them.”
“Listen,” I said, seeing his good humor, “I do not know your real name,
and I do not want to know it. But before God, I am ready to pay you with
my life, for what you have done for me. Only, ask me nothing contrary to
honor, and my conscience as a Christian. You are my benefactor. Let me
go with this orphan, and we, whatever happens to you, wherever you may
be, we shall pray God to save your soul.”
“Be it as you desire,” said he, “punish to the end, or pardon
completely, that’s my way. Take your promised bride wherever you choose,
and may God give you love and happiness.” He turned to Alexis, and
ordered him to write me a passport for all the forts subject to his
power. Alexis was petrified with astonishment. Pougatcheff went off to
inspect the fortress; Alexis followed him; I remained.