> 
 
 AN ROMANCE

 
 RUSSIAN ROMANCE.
 
 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 BY 
 
 ALEXANDER SERGUEVITCH POUSHKIN. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 MRS. J. BUCHAN TELFER 
 
 (NEE MOURAVIEFF). 
 
 HENRY S. KING & Co. 
 
 65, CORNHILL ; & 12, PATERNOSTER Row, LONDON. 
 
 1875.
 
 {All rights reserved. 1
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER : 
 
 I. THE SERGEANT OP THE GUARDS 
 
 II. THE GUIDE 
 
 III. THE FORTRESS . 
 
 IV. THE DUEL 
 
 V. LOVE .... 
 
 VI. POUGATCHEFF . 
 
 VII. THE ASSAULT . 
 
 VIII. THE UNINVITED GUEST 
 
 IX. THE SEPARATION 
 
 X. THE SIEGE 
 
 XI. THE REBEL CAMP 
 
 XII. THE ORPHAN . 
 
 XIII. THE ARREST 
 
 XIV. JUDGMENT 
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC .... 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT .... 
 
 THE SNOW-STORM .... 
 
 THE UNDERTAKER .... 
 THE STATION-MASTER 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT 
 
 1 
 
 12 
 
 25 
 
 34 
 
 45 
 
 55 
 
 69 
 
 79 
 
 90 
 
 97 
 
 107 
 
 122 
 
 130 
 
 139 
 
 155 
 183 
 201 
 219 
 230 
 247
 
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 ERRATA. 
 
 ' Monssii" read " Mouss'it." 
 " Gherassimoona " read "Gherassimovna." 
 "ovation" read "oration." 
 "Avinoushka"reod " Arinoushka. " 
 "one," read "owl." 
 "krass" "kvass." 
 "losedst" ,, "lostest." 
 "tzynooka," read " tzynovka." 
 "bass," read "bast." 
 
 'unseen,",, "useless." 
 "Cardina," read "Caroh'na." 
 : ' all tonn," ,, "allpetonn." 
 'bass," read "bast." 
 'cosmas," read " cosmos. " 
 'Oustynaja," read " Oustynya." 
 ' stcky," read "stchy." 
 "to me in a," read "to me with a." 
 ' Griueff," read "Grineff." 
 ' notwithstanning," read " notwithstanding. 
 ' conditions," read " condition." 
 "removal," "renewal." 
 "importacce," " importanoe. " 
 'Yasheel" "Yakshee!" 
 ' kyuot," read " kyvott." 
 " the simple," read " this simple. " 
 ' persons," read " person." 
 ' pyalack," " pyatack." 
 
 Ischoudoff," read " Jschoudoff. " 
 ' lead," read "send." 
 "Roumiantgoff," read " Roumiantzoff. " 
 ' eying/' read "eyeing." 
 "Naron." ,, "Narva." 
 ' kisby," "kisly." 
 ' Kymitchna," read " Ilyinitchna." 
 'Yeograf," read " Yevgraf." 
 ' exceptions," read " exception. " 
 
 Ragouziusky," read " Ragouzinsky. "
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SERGEANT OF THE GUARDS. 
 
 MY father, Andrey Petrovitch* Grineff, who served in his 
 youth under Count Munichrf* had retired with the rank 
 of senior major, in the year 17 . He then settled on 
 his property in the government of Simbirsk, where he 
 
 married Avdotia VassilievnaJ U , the daughter of a 
 
 poor nobleman in the neighbourhood. Nine children, 
 were born to my parents. All my brothers and sisters 
 died in their infancy. My name had been entered on the 
 strength of the Seniionoffsky regiment, thanks to Prince 
 
 B , a major in the Guards, and our naar relative. I 
 
 was checked as being on leave of absence until the com- 
 pletion of my studies. At that time the system of educa- 
 tion was not what it is now. At the age of five I was 
 turned over to the care of the groom Savelitch, whose 
 sober character had earned for him the distinction of 
 being constituted my governor. I managed, under his 
 supervision, to learn to read and write in Russian by the 
 
 * Andrew, the son of Peter. Tr. 
 
 t A distinguished Russian general ; born, 1683 ; died, 1767. Tr. 
 
 t Eudoxia, the daughter of Basil. Tr. 
 
 1
 
 'RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 time I was twelve years of age, and was also able to 
 discuss in a creditable manner the merits of a sporting 
 dog. At about that period my father, in writing to 
 Moscow for his yearly supply of wines and salad oil, 
 engaged a Frenchman, M. Beaupre, to be my tutor. 
 Savelitch was much put out upon his arrival. 
 
 " Thank goodness," muttered he to himself, " the child 
 is washed, combed, and fed. Where is the use of wasting 
 one's money and engaging Monssie, just as if one's own 
 people were not sufficient !" 
 
 Beaupre had been a hairdresser in his own country, 
 and a soldier in Prussia ; he then came to Russia, pour 
 etre Outchitel* without quite understanding the meaning 
 of the word. He was a good fellow, but flighty and 
 debauched to a degree. His greatest weakness was 
 admiration of the fair sex, and he frequently met with 
 such rough usage in return for his advances, that he 
 would groan for days together. He was not inimical (as 
 lie expressed himself) to the bottle, that is to say (in plain 
 Russian) he liked an extra drop. But as wine was served 
 at dinner at an allowance of only one" glassful to each 
 person, the tutor himself being generally passed over, my 
 Beaupre very soon got accustomed to Russian spirits, and 
 began to like them better than the wines of his own 
 country, as being incomparably preferable for the stomach. 
 He and I got on very well, and although he bound him- 
 self by his agreement to teach me French, German, and 
 all the sciences, he found it more advantageous to himself 
 to pick up from me, after a fashion, a smattering of 
 Russian, after which lesson, each of us went his way. 
 
 * Teacher. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 3 
 
 We lived hand in glove with each other. I did not wish 
 for another mentor. But fate soon parted us, owing to 
 the following circumstances : 
 
 The laundress Palashka, a fat pock-marked girl, and 
 the one-eyed dairy-maid Akoulka, had, it appears, agreed 
 to throw themselves at my mother's feet, and whilst 
 accusing themselves of culpability, to complain weepingly 
 of Monssie, who would take advantage of their in- 
 experience. My mother did not treat such matters as a 
 joke, and carried the complaint to my father. His way 
 of settling it was summary. He immediately sent for 
 that rascal of a Frenchman. He was informed that 
 Monssie was giving me my lesson. My father came into 
 my room. Beaupre was sleeping on my bed the sleep 
 of innocence. I was busy. It should be stated that a 
 map had been ordered for me from Moscow. It had hung 
 on the wall without the slightest use having been made 
 of it, and its size, and the good quality of the paper, had 
 long tempted me. I decided upon making a kite of it, 
 so, taking advantage of Beaupre being asleep, I set to 
 work. My father walked in as I was about to attach a 
 wisp tail to the Cape of Good Hope. Perceiving that 
 these were my studies in geography, my father pulled my 
 ears, then rushing at B.eaupre', he awoke him roughly, 
 and assailed him with reproach. In his confusion, 
 Beaupre would have risen, but he could not the unfortu- 
 nate Frenchman was dead drunk. My father dragged him 
 off the bed by the collar, pushed him outside the door, 
 and sent him off that same day, to the inexpressible joy of 
 Savelitch. Thus ended my education, 
 
 12
 
 4 KUSSIAN ROMANCES 
 
 I stayed at home scaring doves and playing at leap 
 frog with the street boys. After this fashion I reached my 
 sixteenth year. Then came the turning point of my life. 
 
 One autumn afternoon my mother was making jam in 
 the sitting-room, and I stood by, licking my lips and 
 watching the boiling preserve. My father was sitting at 
 the window reading the " Court Calendar," which he 
 received yearly. This book ever exercised a strong 
 influence over him ; he always read it with particular 
 attention, and its perusal invariably stirred up his bile. 
 My mother, who knew all his whims and ways, constantly 
 tried to hide away this unfortunate book, and then it 
 would happen that months went by without his ever 
 seeing the " Court Calendar." But when he did chance 
 to find it, he would not let it out of his hands for hours. 
 Thus it was that my father was reading the " Court 
 Calendar," now and then shrugging his shoulders, and 
 repeating to himself, " Lieutenant-general ! .... he was 
 a sergeant in my company ! . . . . Knight of the two 
 Russian orders ! .... is it so long ago since we ? ... ." 
 At last my father threw the " Calendar " on the sofa 
 and remained sunk in thought, which forbode no good. 
 
 Suddenly, he turned to my mother. "Avdotia Vas- 
 silievna, how old is Petrousha ?"* 
 
 " He has entered his seventeenth year," answered my 
 mother. " Petrousha was born the same year in which 
 aunt Nastasia Gherassimoona lost an eye, and when 
 
 " Very well/' interrupted my father ; " it is time he 
 should enter the service. He has had enough of nurseries 
 and of pigeon worrying." 
 
 * Pet name for Piotr Peter. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 5 
 
 The thought of a speedy separation so startled my 
 mother, that she dropped the spoon into the saucepan, 
 and tears coursed down her face. As for me, it would 
 be difficult to describe my joy. My idea of the service 
 was connected with visions of freedom, and the amuse- 
 ments a residence at Petersburg would afford. I already 
 imagined myself an officer in the Guards, which, in my 
 opinion, was the height of human felicity. 
 
 My father neither liked altering his plans, nor putting 
 off their execution. The day for my departure was fixed. 
 On the eve of that day he informed me that it was his 
 intention to write to my future chief, and he called for 
 paper and pen. 
 
 " Do not forget, Andrey Petrovitch," said my mother, 
 
 *' to remember me to Prince B , and say that I beg of 
 
 him to take my Petrousha under his care." 
 
 "What nonsense !" cried my father, frowning. " What 
 should I write to Prince B for ?" 
 
 " Did you not yourself say you were going to write to 
 ' Petrousha's chief?" 
 
 " Well ! what of that ?" 
 
 " Well, Petrousha's chief is Prince B . Petrousha 
 
 is, as you know, on the strength of the Simionof regiment." 
 
 " On the strength ! What is it to me that he is on the 
 strength ! Petrousha shall not go to Petersburg ! What 
 is he to learn by serving at Petersburg ? To spend 
 money and to get into trouble ? No ! Let him serve in 
 the army; let him carry his knapsack; let him smell 
 powder ; let him become a soldier, and not a puppet in 
 the Guards ! Where is his passport ? Let me have it."
 
 G RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 My mother fetched my passport, which had been put 
 away in a casket, with my little christening shirt, and 
 handed it to my father with a trembling hand. My 
 father read it attentively, laid it before him on the table, 
 and commenced his letter. 
 
 I was eaten up with curiosity. Where was I to be 
 sent to, if not to Petersburg ? I never took ray eyes off 
 my father's pen, which moved slowly enough. At last he 
 concluded, enclosed my passport in his letter, removed his 
 spectacles, and calling me, said : " Here is a letter to 
 
 Andrey Karlovitch* K , my old comrade and friend. 
 
 You are going to Orenburg to serve under him." 
 
 Thus all my bright hopes vanished ! Instead of the 
 pleasurable life at Petersburg, I was to look forward to a 
 dull monotonous existence in a distant and unknown 
 region. I had thought with so much ecstasy, a few 
 moments before, of entering the service, and now my joy 
 seemed turned into the heaviest sorrow. But there was 
 no help for it! The next day a travelling kibitkcrf was 
 brought to the door ; my portmanteau was put into it, 
 also a cellarette containing a tea service, and sundry 
 packages of buns and pies, the last tokens of the in- 
 dulgences of home. My parents blessed me. My father 
 said: "Good-bye, Piotr. Serve him faithfully, him to 
 whom thou shalt swear allegiance ; obey thy superiors ; 
 do not court their favour too much ; do not be over 
 anxious to serve; but do not either shrink thy duty, and 
 remember the proverb : Take care of thy coat from the 
 hour that it is new, and of thy honour from the days of 
 
 * Andrew, the son of Charles. Tr. t Carriage with a hood. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 7 
 
 its youth" My mother, in tears, bid me take care of my 
 health, and ordered Savelitch to "look after the child." 
 A small touloup* of hare skin was put on me, and over 
 it a pelisse of fox fur. I sat in the kibitka next to 
 Savelitch, and set out on my journey, crying bitterly. 
 
 That same night we reached Simbirsk, where I was 
 to remain twenty-four hours, for Savelitch had been 
 instructed to purchase all sorts of necessaries. I alighted 
 at the inn Savelitch started early to do his shopping. 
 I got tired of looking out of the window into the dirty 
 alley, so I began to explore the house. On entering the 
 billiard-room I found a tall gentleman of about five-and- 
 thirty years of age, in a dressing gown, wearing a long- 
 black moustache, with a cue in his hand, and a pipe in 
 his mouth. He was playing with the marker, who was 
 to empty a glass of vodka^ at the end of each game he 
 won, but who was obliged to crawl on all fours under the 
 billiard-table whenever he happened to lose. I stayed 
 and watched their play. As it progressed, the crawling 
 on all fours became more frequent, until at last the 
 marker remained under the table altogether. The gentle- 
 man pronounced over him a few vigorous expressions, a 
 sort of funeral ovation, and invited me to have a game. 
 I declined, not knowing how to play. This evidently 
 appeared strange to him. He looked on me as it were 
 with compassion ; nevertheless, we continued to converse. 
 I learned that his name was Ivan Ivanovitchj Zourine, 
 that he was a captain in the hussars, that he was 
 
 * A short coat lined with fur. Tr. 
 
 t A glass of spirits. Tr. John, the son of John. Tr.
 
 8 SUSS1A1T ROMANCE. 
 
 sent to Simbirsk to recruit, and that he was staying in 
 the same inn. Zourine invited me to dine with him. 
 soldier fashion, taking what I could get. I willingly 
 consented. We sat down. Zourine drank a great deal, 
 and pressed me to do the same, saying that I must 
 accustom myself to the ways of the service ; he enter- 
 tained me with military anecdotes, which caused me 
 almost to split my sides with laughter, and we rose from 
 the table fast friends. He then offered to teach me to 
 play at billiards. " It is quite indispensable," he said, 
 " to us brother-soldiers. For instance. When on the 
 march, halts are made at little villages ; how is one to 
 kill time ? One cannot possibly be always kicking the 
 Jews about. One is obliged, in self-defence, to enter the 
 inn and have a game at billiards ; and to do so, one must 
 know how to play !" I was quite convinced, and com- 
 menced my course of instruction with great ardour. 
 Zourine loudly encouraged me, wondered at the rapid 
 progress I made, and, after several lessons, proposed that 
 we should play for money, at half copeck stakes ; not for 
 the sake of gain, but simply so as not to be playing with- 
 out an object, which, he said, was the worst possible plan. 
 I again consented, and Zourine called for punch, and 
 pressed me to taste some, repeating that I must get used 
 to the customs of the service ; and what was the service 
 without punch ! I obeyed. Our game went on. The 
 oftener I supped my glass, the merrier I became. The 
 balls were continually flying off the table ; I was getting 
 excited ; abused the marker, who was scoring heaven 
 knows how ; I was doubling the stakes over and over
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 9 
 
 again in a word, I behaved like a boy loosened from 
 all control*. Thus, time passed imperceptibly. Zourine 
 looked at the clock, laid down his cue, and informed me 
 that I owed him one hundred roubles. I was a little 
 taken aback. Savelitch kept my money. I began to 
 offer some excuse. Zourine interrupted me : " Pray do 
 not mention it. I can wait your convenience, and in the 
 meanwhile let us go to Avinoushka's." 
 
 What more am I to say ? I ended the day as giddily 
 as I had begun it. We supped at Avinoushka's. Zourine 
 kept filling my glass, repeating that I must get used 
 to the service. Oil leaving the table, I could scarcely 
 stand ; at midnight Zourine took me back to the inn. 
 
 Savelitch met us at the threshold. He started at the 
 undeniable evidence of my zeal for the service. 
 
 '' What has happened to thee, sir ?" said he, in a sor- 
 rowful voice. " Where hast thou managed to get such a 
 skinful ? Dear me ! never has such a misfortune hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " Hold thy tongue, old one !" answered I, stammering, 
 " thou art surely drunk; go to sleep and put me to bed." 
 
 The next day I awoke with a headache, vaguely 
 recalling the events of the previous evening. My reflec- 
 tions were interrupted by Savelitch, who came to me 
 with a cup of tea. "Thou art making an early beginning 
 Piotr Andre vitch,"* said he, shaking his head. " And 
 who dost thou take after ? So far as I know, neither thy 
 father, nor thy grandfather, were drunkards ; to mention 
 thy mother is unnecessary she has never from her 
 * Peter, the son of Andrew. Tr.
 
 10 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 birth tasted anything stronger than brass* And whose 
 
 fault is it all ? That d d Monssie. I fancy I see 
 
 him now, running to Antipievna ; ' Madame, je vous prie, 
 vodka.' There is je vous prie for you ! There is no 
 denying it ; he has taught thee some nice things that 
 son of a dog. And what was the use of engaging a 
 heathen for thy tutor, as if our master had not enough of 
 his own people about him to choose from ?" 
 
 I felt ashamed of myself; I turned to the wall, and 
 said to him " Go away, Savelitch, I do not want any tea." 
 
 But it was difficult to stop Savelitch when he had once 
 begun to lecture. 
 
 "There, Piotr Andrevitch, thou seest what comes of tip- 
 pling ; one has a headache one cannot eat anything. A 
 man who drinks is perfectly useless. Take a little 
 cucumber juice, with honey, or what is better still, half a 
 glass of spirits as a refresher. What sayest thou to it ?" 
 
 At that moment a boy entered and handed me a note 
 from Zourine. I opened it and read the following lines : 
 
 "Mr DEAR PIOTR ANDREVITCH, 
 
 " Please send me, by my boy, the hundred roubles 
 which thou losedst yesterday. I stand in great need of 
 money. 
 
 " Ready, and at thy service, 
 
 " IVAN ZOURINE." 
 
 There was no help for it ; I tried to look unconcerned 
 and turning to Savelitch, who kept my money jand 
 
 * A fermented liquor made from barley malt, wheat, rye, wheat 
 flour, and buck wheat. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 11 
 
 clothes and disposecfof my affairs, ordered him to give a 
 hundred roubles to the boy. 
 
 " How ? why ?" asked the astonished Savelitch. 
 
 " I owe them to him," I answered, in the coolest manner 
 possible. 
 
 " Thou owest them ?" reiterated Savelitch, more and 
 more astonished ; " whenever didst thou find the time to 
 get into debt ? This business is not clear. Do what thou 
 wilt, sir, but I shall not give the money." 
 
 I felt that unless I made the obstinate old man give in 
 to me at this decisive moment, I would thereafter find it 
 difficult to free myself of his tutelage, and looking proudly 
 at him, said 
 
 "I am thy master, and thou my servant. The money 
 is mine. I lost it because I chose to do so ; but I advise 
 thee not to argue the point, and to do what thou art told." 
 
 Savelitch was so taken aback, that he raised his arms, 
 and remained motionless. 
 
 " What dost thou stand there like that for ?" I shrieked 
 angrily. 
 
 Savelitch burst into tears. 
 
 " Oh, my little father,* Piotr Andrevitch," he murmured, 
 " do not kill me with grief. My light ! do listen to an 
 old man ! Write to that scoundrel to say it was a joke, 
 that we never possessed so much money ! One hundred 
 roubles ! Good gracious ! Tell him that thy parents 
 have strictly forbidden thee playing for anything but 
 nuts. . . ." 
 
 " Leave off lying," I interrupted severely ; " let me 
 have the money, or I shall kick thee out." 
 
 * Rriiyoushka, a term of endearment. Tr.
 
 12 KUSSIA2? ROMANCE. 
 
 Savelitch looked at rne sorrowfully, and went for the 
 money. I pitied the poor old man, but I wanted to get 
 the upper hand, and to show him that I was a child no 
 longer. The money was sent to Zourine. Savelitch 
 hastened to " get me out of the d d inn." He came to 
 announce that the horses were ready. I left Simbirsk 
 with an uneasy conscience, repenting silently, without 
 bidding my master good-bye, and never expecting to see 
 him 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE GUIDE. 
 
 MY reflections on the way were none of the pleasantest. 
 My loss was not insignificant, considering the value of 
 money at that period. I could not but acknowledge in 
 my inmost soul that my conduct at the inn at, Simbirsk 
 had been very foolish, and I felt myself guilty towards 
 Savelitch. These thoughts tormented me. The old man 
 sat behind, gloomy and silent, accasionally turning away 
 his face and murmuring to himself. I wished at any 
 price to make my peace with him, but I scarcely knew 
 how to begin. At last I said 
 
 " Well, well, Savelitch ; let us make it up ; I beg thy 
 pardon ; I see that I was in the wrong. I was foolish 
 yesterday ; I offended thee without cause. I promise to 
 behave better in future, and to listen to thee. There 
 now, do not be angry, and let us make it up."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 13 
 
 " Ah, my little father, Piotr Andrevitch !" answered he, 
 with a deep sigh. " I am angry with myself; it is all my 
 own fault throughout. How could I ever leave thee all 
 alone at the inn ? What is to be done ? I was tempted. 
 I bethought myself of going to the deacon's wife, to see 
 my Kouma* Well, so it was ; I went to my Koumd, 
 and thus have got into trouble. A bad business I 
 How shall I ever be able to look my master and my 
 mistress in the face again ? What will they say when 
 they find out that their child drinks and gambles ?" 
 
 I promised, in order to console poor Savelitch, that I 
 should never henceforth dispose of a single kopeck with ; 
 out his consent. He gradually calmed down, but still 
 kept grumbling to himself occasionally, as he nodded his 
 head : " A hundred roubles ! no joke !" 
 
 I was nearing the place of my destination. Dreary 
 plains, intercepted by mounds and hollows, stretched 
 around me. All was covered with snow. The sun was 
 setting. The kibitka was driving along a narrow road ; 
 or, more correctly speaking, a track made by the peasants' 
 sledges. Suddenly, the yemstchiclrf began to look around 
 him, and taking off his cap, he said to me 
 
 " Wilt thou not order me to turn back, sir T 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " The weather is threatening the wind is rising 
 gradually. See how it sweeps the early snow ?" 
 
 " Well, where is the harm ?" 
 
 * A godfather and a godmother stand in the relation of Koum 
 (m.) and Roumd (f.) to each other Tr. 
 t The driver of a travelling carriage. Tr.
 
 14 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " And look what is going on there. " 
 
 (The yemstchick pointed with his whip to the east.) 
 
 "I don't see anything except a white steppe, and a 
 clear sky." 
 
 " And there there ! that little cloud !" 
 
 I did indeed perceive on the horizon a small white 
 cloud, which I at first took for a distant mound. The 
 yemstchick explained to me that that small cloud presaged 
 a, snow storm. 
 
 I had heard of the snow storms in those regions, and 
 was aware that entire trains of waggons were sometimes 
 overwhelmed by them. Savelitch was of the yemstchick 8 
 opinion, and advised our returning. But I did not 
 imagine that the wind was very high ; I hoped to reach 
 the next station in time, and gave orders to drive faster. 
 
 The yemstchick went off at full spead, but still kept 
 looking at the east. The horses were (Joing their work 
 well. The wind was, however, rising fast. The small 
 white speck had become a dense white cloud, which, as 
 it heavily rolled onwards, stretched out, enveloping the 
 whole sky. A little snow began to fall, which soon 
 increased to heavy flakes. The wind commenced to 
 howl, and we were in for a snowstorm. In an instant 
 the dark sky and the white sea of snow had blended into 
 one. Everything had disappeared from sight. 
 
 "Well, sir," shouted the yemstchick, "we are done for; 
 this is a snow-storm !" 
 
 I looked out of the kibitJoa ; all was darkness and 
 tempest. One might have mistaken for human sounds, 
 what were but the fierce and expressive howlings of the
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 15 
 
 wind. Savelitch and I were covered with snow; the 
 horses slackened their pace and soon stood quite still. 
 
 "Why dost thou not go on ?" I asked the yemstchick, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Where is the use of going on ?" answered he, leaving 
 his seat ; " as it is, goodness knows where we have got 
 to : there is no road, and darkness everywhere." 
 
 I was about to rebuke him. Savelitch took his part : 
 " Why did'st thou not listen ?" said he angrily : " thou 
 mightest have gone back to the inn, had tea, thou could'st 
 have slept until the morning, the storm would have 
 abated, and we should have been able to have gone on 
 farther. Where do we hurry to now ? Had we been 
 going to a wedding !" 
 
 Savelitch was right. What was to be done. The snow 
 still fell. A drift was forming round our kibitka. The 
 horses stood with bent heads, starting occasionally. The 
 yemstchick walked round and round, and not being able 
 to do anything else, kept adjusting the harness. Save- 
 litch grumbled. I kept looking in all directions, in the 
 hope of discovering some trace of a dwelling or of a road, 
 but could discern nothing but the confused chasing of the 
 snow-flakes. . . . Suddenly I perceived something black. 
 
 " There, yemstchick /" I cried ; " look ; what is that 
 black object there ?" 
 
 The yemstchick strained his eyes. 
 
 " Goodness knows, sir," said he, taking his seat ; " it is 
 neither a waggon nor a tree, for it appears to move. It 
 must be either a wolf or a man." 
 
 I ordered him to drive in the direction of the indistinct
 
 16 JtUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 object, which was also advancing towards ourselves. In 
 a couple of minutes we met a man : 
 
 "Halloa! my good man!" shouted the ycmstchick ; 
 "canst thou tell me which way the road lies ?" 
 
 " The road is here ; I am standing on hard ground," 
 answered the traveller ; "but of what use can it be ?" 
 
 " Listen, my little vnoujUe"* said I ; "art thou acquainted 
 with this part of the country ? wilt thou undertake to 
 conduct me to some place where we can pass the night ?" 
 
 " I know the country," said the wayfarer ; " thank 
 goodness it has been walked and driven over in all direc- 
 tions. But thou seest what the weather is like; how 
 easy it is to lose one's way. It would be safer to wait 
 here. The snow-storm may blow ever, and the sky clear 
 up ; then we shall find our way by the stars." 
 
 His assurance supported me ; I had already made up 
 my mind to trust myself to God's mercy, and to spend 
 the night in the midst of the steppe, when of a sudden 
 the wayfarer took his seat by the side of the yemstchick 
 saying : 
 
 " God be praised, a dwelling is not far off; turn to the 
 right, and go on." 
 
 " And why should I turn to the right ?" asked the 
 yemstchick, with a dissatisfied air. " Where dost thou 
 see a road there ? I dare say thou thinkest : ' The horses 
 are somebody else's, the harness is somebody else's, so 
 drive on and don't stop.' " 
 
 It struck me that the yemstchick was right. 
 
 " And really," said I, " what makes thee think that a 
 dwelling is not far off?" 
 
 * Peasant. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 17 
 
 " Because the wind blew from thence," answered the 
 stranger ; " I perceived the smell of smoke ; it means 
 that a village is near." 
 
 His quick perception and acute sense of smelling 
 astonished me ; I directed the yemstchick to drive on. 
 The horses were stepping heavily over the deep snow. 
 The kibitka advanced slowly, now rising over a hillock, 
 then plunging into a ditch ; again turning over from side 
 to side. It was like the motion of a ship on a stormy 
 sea. Savelitch groaned, and was continually striking 
 against me. I let down the tzynooka* wrapped myself 
 up in my pelisse, and dozed, lulled by the music of the 
 storm and the rocking of the slow motion. 
 
 I dreamt a dream, which I never could forget, and in 
 which, even now, I see something prophetic when I 
 associate it with the peculiar events of my life. The 
 reader will make every allowance for me, for he probably 
 knows by experience how prone one is to give way to 
 superstition, notwithstanding every feeling of contempt 
 for such prejudices. 
 
 I was in that state when reality, giving place to fancies, 
 is mingled with them in the dim visions of first sleep. I 
 fancied the storm was still raging, and that we were still 
 straying over the snowy steppe. . . . Suddenly I saw a 
 gate, and I drove into the court of our house. My first 
 thought was a. dread lest my father should be angry with 
 me for my involuntary return to the parental roof, and 
 lest he should consider such to be an act of premeditated 
 disobedience. In my uneasiness, I jumped out of the 
 
 * A bass matting let down in front of the hood. Tr. 
 
 2
 
 18 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 kibitka, and saw ray mother, who ran to meet me at the 
 threshold with a look of deep grief. " Gently," she said, 
 " thy father is ill and at death's door, and desires to take 
 leave of thee." Struck with terror, I followed her into the 
 bedroom. It is dimly lit ; people with sorrowful faces 
 stand at the bedside. I approach the bed noiselessly ; my 
 mother raises the curtains and says : " Andrey Petrovitch, 
 Petrousha has come ; he has returned on hearing of thy 
 illness ; bless him." I knelt and fixed my eyes on the 
 patient. And what ? . . . instead of my father, I see a 
 moujik with a black beard stretched on the bed, who 
 looks pleasa.ntly at me. In my perplexity I turn to my 
 mother and say : " What does this mean ? This is not 
 my father. And what should I ask a moujik's blessing 
 for ?" " It is the same thing, Petrousha/' replies my 
 mother; " this is thy nuptial sponsor: kiss his hand and 
 let him kiss thee ..." I didn't consent. Here the 
 'moujik jumps out of bed, draws an axe from behind his, 
 back,* and commences to swing it about ; I seek to fly from 
 him . . . and cannot ; the room is strewn about with 
 corpses ; I stumble over them, and slip in pools of blood 
 . . . the dreadful moujik calls me affectionately, saying, 
 " Do not fear, come and receive my blessing ;" ... terror 
 and anxiety seize hold of me . . . and at that moment I 
 awoke ; the horses stood still ; Savelitch held me by the 
 hand and said : 
 
 " Get out, sir ; we have arrived." 
 
 " Arrived where ?" I inquired, rubbing my eyes. 
 
 * The Kussian peasant wears his axe behind his back, stuck 
 into his belt. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 19 
 
 " At the inn. God came to our aid ; we ran right up 
 against a paling. Get out quickly, sir, and warm thy 
 self." 
 
 I stepped out of the kibitka. The storm continued, 
 though with less severity. It was pitchy dark. The 
 landlord met us at the gate, holding a lantern under the 
 skirt of his coat, and led me into a room, which, though 
 small, was tolerably clean ; it was lit by a rush-light. A 
 gun and a high Cossack hat were suspended to the wall. 
 
 Our host, a Cossack of the Ya'ik,* was a man of about 
 sixty, but hale and strong. Savelitch brought in the 
 cellarette after me, and asked for a fire, in order to prepare 
 some tea, of which I had never stood so much in need. 
 The host left to make the necessary preparations. 
 
 " Where is our guide ?" I said to Savelitch. 
 
 " Here, your honour," answered a voice from above. 
 
 I looked up at the loft, and saw a black beard and two 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 " Well, art thou frozen ?" 
 
 " How is one not to be frozen with nothing to wear but 
 a worn armyak ?f I had a touloup but why should I 
 conceal the truth ? I pledged it last night at the public- 
 house ; the frost did not seem to be very severe." 
 
 At that moment the host returned with the boiling 
 samovar ;\ I offered our guide a cup of tea ; the moujik 
 descended from the loft. His exterior struck me as being 
 remarkable. He was about forty, of middle height, lean 
 and broad-shouldered. A few gray hairs mingled with 
 
 * Or River Oural, flowing into the Caspian. Tr. 
 t A smock. Tr. J Russian tea-urn. Tr. 
 
 22
 
 20 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 his black beard ; his large, lustrous eyes were ever rest- 
 less. The expression of his face was pleasant enough, but 
 it was roguish. His hair was evenly cut all round ; he wore 
 a ragged armyak and capacious Tartar trousers. I handed 
 him a cup of tea; he tasted it and made a grimace. 
 *' Your honour, do oblige ine . . . order a glass of wine to 
 be given me ; tea is not a drink for us Cossacks." 
 
 I readily acceded to his wish. The host produced a 
 bottle and tumbler from the cupboard, approached him, 
 and looking him in the face : 
 
 "Oho !" said he, "thou art again in our neighbourhood I 
 Where dost thou come from ?" 
 
 My guide winked significantly and answered with a 
 parable : 
 
 " I flew about the kitchen-garden, picked hempseed, the 
 old woman threw a pebble at me, but missed. Well, how 
 are all your people ?" 
 
 " What, how are our people !" replied the landlord, 
 continuing the parabolical dialogue ; " they were about to 
 ring for vespers, but the priest's wife forbid them : the 
 priest is absent on a visit, the devils are in the parish." 
 
 " Be quiet, uncle," said the vagabond ; " when the rain 
 falls mushrooms will be there; when there are mush- 
 rooms there will also be baskets but at present" [here he 
 winked again] " hide thy axe behind thy back ; the forester 
 is walking about. Your honour, your health !" 
 
 With these words he took the tumbler, made the sign 
 of the cross, and drained it at a draught ; he then bowed 
 to me and returned to the loft. 
 
 I could make nothing of this cut-throat conversation at
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 21 
 
 that time, and it was only subsequently I guessed that it 
 referred to the army of the Ya'ik, which had but recently 
 been subdued after the mutiny of 1772. Savelitch was 
 listening with an air of great displeasure. He looked 
 with suspicion from the host to the guide. The inn, or 
 as it is there called, the oumet, was situated in the steppe, 
 at a distance from any village, and much resembled 
 a robber's retreat. But there was no help for it. To 
 think of continuing the journey was unseen. Savelitch's 
 agitation amused me much. I made myself comfortable 
 for the night, stretching myself on a bench. Savelitch 
 made up his mind to sleep on the stove, and our host lay 
 on the floor. Everybody was soon snoring, and I fell 
 into a deep sleep. 
 
 Awaking at a late hour on the following morning, I 
 found the storm had ceased. The sun was shining. The 
 dazzling white snow stretched like a sheet over the 
 boundless steppe. The horses were ready; I settled with 
 our host, who took from us so moderate a sum that even 
 Savelitch did not grumble, nor did he attempt to bargain 
 as was his wont, and his suspicions of the previous day 
 were quite forgotten. I called our guide, thanked him 
 for his aid, and desired Savelitch to give him half a 
 rouble as a tip. 
 
 Savelitch frowned. " Half a rouble as a tip !" said he ; 
 " what for ? Is it because thou hast given him a lift to 
 the inn ? No, sir, we have no spare money to waste. If 
 we are to give a tip to everybody, we shall soon ourselves 
 have to starve".
 
 22 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 I could not argue the point with Savelitch. The money 
 had remained as I had promised, in his sole charge. I 
 felt vexed, however, at not being able to show my grati- 
 tude to a man, who, if he had not saved me from actual 
 danger, had at least extricated me from a very unpleasant 
 predicament. 
 
 "All right," said I, coolly ; " if thou wilt not give him 
 half a rouble, find something for him amongst my things. 
 He is too thinly clad. Give him my touloup, of hare- 
 skin." 
 
 " For pity's sake, my little father, Piotr Andrevitch !" 
 said Savelitch, " what does he want thy hareskin 
 touloup for ? The cur will barter it away at the first 
 public-house." 
 
 " It need not trouble thee, my little man," said the 
 vagabond, " whether I shall barter it or not. His honour 
 does me the favour to give me the pelisse off his back ; it 
 is his honour's will, and thy business as a serf is not to 
 discuss, but to obey." 
 
 "Thou dost not fear God, robber that thou art!" 
 answered Savelitch in an angry tone. " Thou seest that 
 the child has not come to years of discretion, and thou art 
 glad to take advantage of his simplicity and rob him. 
 What good is a gentleman's touloup to thee ? thou canst 
 not even get it over thy d d shoulders." 
 
 " I beg of thee not to moralize," said I to my servant ; 
 " let him have the touloup, immediately." 
 
 " Good gracious !" moaned Savelitch. " The touloup 
 is all but new ! I would not mind it, but that a tattered 
 drunkard gets it !"
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 23 
 
 The touloup was produced. The moujik proceeded to 
 try it on. And, indeed, the touloup, which even I had 
 grown out of, fitted him rather tightly. He managed, 
 however, to get it on somehow, bursting it open at the 
 seams. Savelitch almost howled when he heard the 
 threads part. The vagabond alone was delighted with 
 my present. . He accompanied me to the kibitka, and said 
 with a bow : 
 
 " Many thanks, your honour ! God reward you for 
 your good deed. I shall never forget your kindness." 
 
 He went his way, and I continued my journey, not 
 heeding Savelitch, and soon forgot yesterday's storm, my 
 guide, and my touloup. 
 
 Upon arriving at Orenburg, I directly went to the ge- 
 neral. I beheld a tall man, already bent by age. His long 
 hair was perfectly white ; his old faded uniform reminded 
 one of a warrior of the days of the Empress Anne, and 
 his pronounciation was very German. I handed my 
 father's letter to him. Upon his name being mentioned, 
 he threw a sudden glance at me. "Mein Gott !" he said, 
 " is it long since Andrey Petrovitch vos of dye age him- 
 self, and now he hass such a fellow as dee for a zohn ? 
 Yes, time flies !" He opened the letter, and began to 
 read it in an undertone to himself, making his remarks : 
 " ' Dear sir, Ivan Karlovitch ; I hope that your excel- 
 lency !'.... Dear me, what formalities ! Pfouy ! is he 
 not ashamed of himself ? Certainly, discipline pefore all, 
 but is dis dee vay to write to an old comrate ? . . . . 
 * Your excellency has not forgotten !' .... him ! . . . .
 
 24 XUSSIAX ROMANCE. 
 
 ' and ' . . . . when ? . . . . ' under the late Field-Mar- 
 shal Munich .... during the march .... also little 
 Cardina ?' Ha ! ha ! bruder ! so he still remembers our 
 old frolics ? ' Now to business .... I send you my 
 mad-cap ' . . . . h'm ! . . . . ' hold him with porcupine 
 gloves !'.... Vat are porcupine glofes ? Dis must be a 
 Rooshan saying .... vat does it mean to holt vit por- 
 cupine glofes ?" he repeated, turning to me. 
 
 " That means," replied I, assuming the most innocent 
 air imaginable, " to treat him gently, without too great 
 severity; to give him a good deal of liberty; to hold him 
 with porcupine gloves." 
 
 " H'm ; I understand .... and do not let him have 
 too much liberty .... no ; to hold vit porcupine glofes 
 must have another signification !....' enclosed is his 
 passport !'.... vy vere is it ? Ah ! here it is .... 
 ' to attach him to the Semionoffsky Regiment.' All right, 
 all right, it shall all tonn . . . . ' thou must allow me, 
 laying rank aside, to embrace thee as an old friend and 
 comrade.' .... Veil, at last ; . . . . and so on, and so 
 on .... Veil, sir," said he, having concluded the letter, 
 and laying aside my passport, " it shall all pe tonn ; dow 
 shalt join dee * * * Regiment, vit dee rank of officer, 
 but so as not to loose any time, dow shalt go to-morrow 
 to dee fortress of Byelogorsk, vere dow shalt pe unter dee 
 orders of Captain Mironoff, a goot and honest man. Dere 
 dow shalt know vat real service is; it will teash dee 
 discipline. At Orenburg dere is no-ting for dee to too ; 
 amusements are prejuticial to a young mann. To-day, I 
 beg dow wilt dine vit me."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 25 
 
 " From bad to worse," thought I to myself. " Of what 
 service has it been to me, to have been a sergeant in the 
 Guards, almost from my mother's womb ? What has it 
 led to ? To my being attached to the *** Regiment, 
 and having to serve in a lonely fortress, on the frontier 
 of the Khirghis-Kasak Steppe !".... I dined with 
 Andrey Karlovitch, in company with his old aide-de- 
 camp. The strictest German economy was observed at his 
 table, and I think that the dread of occasionally seeing an 
 extra visitor at his bachelor's board, was partly the reason 
 of my hasty removal to the garrison. The following day 
 I took my leave of the general, and repaired to my des- 
 tination. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FORTRESS. 
 
 THE fortress of Byelogorsk was situated at a distance of 
 forty versts from Orenburg. The road led along the 
 steep banks of the Ya'ik. The river was not yet frozen 
 over, and its leaden-coloured waves contrasted gloomily 
 with the monotonous snow-covered shores. Beyond them 
 stretched out the Khirghis Steppe. I was lost in reflec- 
 tions, which were mostly of a sad nature. A garrison life 
 offered little enough attraction to me; I endeavoured to pic- 
 ture to myself the person of Captain Mironoff, my future 
 chief, and I conceived him to be a strict, morose old man, 
 without an idea beyond his duties, and who would be 
 ready to put me under arrest, on bread and water, for
 
 26 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 every trifling offence. It was now getting dark; we 
 were driving pretty fast. " Is the fortress far off ?" I 
 asked the yemstchick. " Not far," answered he ; " there 
 it is." I looked in all directions, expecting to view proud 
 bastions, towers, and a ditch, but I could only see a small 
 village, encircled by a wooden palisade. On one side 
 stood three or four haystacks, partly covered with snow, 
 upon the other was a sorry windmill, with bass fans 
 which were in repose. " But where is the fortress ? " I 
 asked, in astonishment. 
 
 " Here it is/' said the yenistcldck, pointing at the 
 village which we were about to enter. I observed at the 
 gates an old bronze gun ; the streets were narrow and 
 crooked; the huts were low, and the greater number 
 were thatched. I gave orders to drive to the com- 
 mandant's residence, and in a few minutes the kibitka, 
 stopped in front of a small wooden house, which stood 
 upon high ground near the church, also built of 
 wood. 
 
 Nobody came to meet me. I walked through the hall, 
 and let myself into the ante-room. An old invalid, seated 
 on a table, was fitting a blue patch to the elbow of a 
 green uniform. I desired him to announce me. 
 
 " Come in, sir/' said the invalid ; " our people are at 
 home." 
 
 I entered an old-fashioned and clean little room. In a 
 corner stood a cupboard which contained crockery. An 
 officer's commission, framed and glazed, hung on the wall; 
 close to it were some coarse engravings, representing the 
 taking of Kystrin and Otchakoff, " The Choice of a Bride/'
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 27 
 
 and " The Burial of the Cat." At the window sat an old 
 woman in a warm jacket; her head bound up with a 
 kerchief. She was winding a skein of thread, which was 
 being held by a one-eyed old man, in an officer's uniform. 
 
 " What is it you want, sir ?" she asked, continuing her 
 occupation. 
 
 I replied that I had come to enter the service, 
 and had hastened to report myself to the captain, as 
 in duty bound, and was about to address myself to the 
 one-eyed man, whom I took for the commandant; but 
 the old lady anticipated the speech I had prepared. 
 
 " Ivan Kouzmitch* is not at home," she said ; " he 
 is gone to Father Gherassim. But it does not matter, sir ; 
 I am his wife. I beg you to love and be gracious to us.f 
 Sit down, my little father." 
 
 She called a maidservant, and told her to send the 
 orderly. The little old man with the solitary eye kept 
 looking at me with curiosity. 
 
 " Dare I ask," said he, " in what regiment you have 
 served ?" 
 
 I satisfied his curiosity. 
 
 " And dare I ask," he continued, " why you have left 
 the Guards for this garrison ?" 
 
 I replied that such was the will of my superiors. 
 
 " Probably in consequence of your conduct not being 
 creditable to an officer in the Guards ?" continued the 
 indefatigable questioner. 
 
 " Leave off talking nonsense/' said the captain's wife to 
 
 * John, the son of Cosmas. Tr. 
 t A friendly mode of greeting. Tr.
 
 28 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 him ; " thou seest that the young man is fatigued after 
 his journey ; he has other things to think about. . . . 
 Hold thy hands out straighter. . . . And thou, my little 
 father," continued she, turning to me ; " don't fret at 
 being banished to our wilderness. Thou art not the first, 
 nor wilt thou be the last. One learns to love what one has 
 to endure* It is now five years since Shvabrine, Aleksey 
 Ivanovitchf Shvabrine was sent here for manslaughter. 
 Goodness knows what possessed him ; he went, thou seest, 
 into the country with a sub-lieutenant ; they both took 
 up their swords, and began to poke at each other, until 
 Aleksey Ivanovitch run the sub-lieutenant through, and 
 that in the presence of witnesses ! What's to be done ! 
 Sin Jias not found its master. "* 
 
 At that moment, the orderly, a young good-looking 
 Cossack, came into the room. 
 
 " Maksymitch !"| said the captain's wife ; " show this 
 officer to his billet, and see that all is clean." 
 
 " I obey, Vassilissa Yegorovna," answered the orderly. 
 " Would it not do to place his honour with Ivan Pole- 
 jaeff?" 
 
 " Nonsense, Maksymitch," said she ; " Polejaeff has no 
 room to spare ; besides, he is my koum, and does not 
 forget that we are his superiors. Conduct the officer. . . . 
 What is your and your father's name, sir ?" 
 
 " Piotr Andrevitch." 
 
 " Take Piotr Andrevitch to Semion Kouzoff. The rascal 
 
 * Russian proverbs. Tr. t Alexis, the son of John. Tr. 
 
 \ Son of Maximus. Tr. 
 
 Vassilissa, the daughter of Gregory. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 29 
 
 has let his horse loose into my vegetable garden. Well, 
 Maksymitch, is everything in order ?" 
 
 " All's correct, God be praised," answered the Cossack, 
 quietly ; " only Corporal Prohoroff has had a fight with 
 Oustynaja Pezoulin in the bath house about a pail of hot 
 water." 
 
 " Ivan Ignatitch !"* said the captain's wife, to the one- 
 eyed little man ; " find out which one of them is right, 
 and who is wrong, and mind that thou punishest them 
 both. Very well, Maksymitch, God be with thee. Piotr 
 Andrevitch, Maksymitch will show you to your billet." 
 
 I took my leave. The orderly led me to a hut, situated 
 on the upper part of the river's bank, at the very limits 
 of the fortress. One half the hut was occupied by the 
 family of Semion Kouzoff, the other half was given" up to 
 me. It consisted of one room, which was tolerably clean, 
 and divided in two by a partition. Savelitch began to 
 put things in order. I looked out of the narrow window. 
 Before me lay a dreary steppe ; on one side stood a few 
 huts ; some hens were wandering about the streets. In 
 the porch was an old woman with a pail, calling her 
 pigs, who responded with friendly grunts. And this was 
 the place in which I was doomed to spend my youth ! I 
 felt sadly depressed. I left the window and laid myself 
 down to sleep supperless, notwithstanding Savelitch's 
 entreaties, who repeated mournfully 
 
 "Good God ! he will not eat ! What will my mistress 
 say, if the child gets ill ?" 
 
 I had only just begun to dress on the following morn- 
 
 * John, the son of Ignatius. Tr.
 
 30 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ing, when my door was opened, and in walked a young 
 officer of middle stature with a dark and unmistakably 
 plain, but lively face. 
 
 " Pardon me," said he, in French ; " that I should come 
 to make your acquaintance with so little ceremony. I 
 heard yesterday of your arrival. The desire to see at 
 last a new face, was so strong in me, that I could not 
 hold out any longer. You will understand the feeling 
 when you will have been here a little while." 
 
 I guessed that this was the officer who had been dis- 
 missed from the Guards for his share in the duel. We 
 soon got acquainted. Shvabrine was a clever fellow. 
 His conversation was witty and engaging. He gave me 
 an amusing account of the commandant's family, his 
 friends, and of the country to which fate had consigned 
 me. I was laughing heartily, when the invalid, whom I 
 had seen cleaning some uniform in the commandant's hall, 
 came in with an invitation to dinner from Vassilissa 
 Yegorovna. Shvabrine offered to accompany me. 
 
 As we approached the commandant's house, we saw on 
 the small parade ground some twenty little old invalids 
 with long pig-tails and cocked hats. They were standing 
 in single file. In front of them was the commandant, a 
 tall hale old man, in a night-cap and nankin dressing- 
 gown. He approached upon perceiving us, addressed a 
 few kind words to me, and resumed the drill. We pro- 
 posed remaining to see the exercise, but he invited, us to 
 go to Vassilissa Yegorovna, promising to follow shortly. 
 
 " Here," added he ; " there is nothing for you to look 
 at."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UOHTEB. 31 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna received us without any ceremony, 
 but with warmth, and treated me as if she had known 
 me for years. The invalid and Palashka were laying the 
 table. 
 
 " Why, what makes my Ivan Kouzmitch stay out so 
 long to-day ?" said the commandant's wife. " Palashka, 
 call your master to dinner. But where is Masha ?" 
 
 Here a chubby and rosy-cheeked maiden of about 
 eighteen, with light-brown hair smoothly brushed down 
 behind her ears, which seemed to blush and tingle, came 
 in. She did not impress me favourably at first. I had 
 been prejudiced against her. Shvabrine had described 
 Masha, the captain's daughter, as being a thorough 
 simpleton. Maria Ivanovna* retired to a corner, and took 
 up her needlework. The stcky^ was served. Vassilissa 
 Yegorovna not seeing her husband, again despatched 
 Palashka after him. 
 
 " Tell thy master the guests are waiting the stcky will 
 get cold thank goodness the drills won't run away he 
 will have plenty of time to shriek himself hoarse." 
 
 The captain soon appeared accompanied by the one- 
 eyed old man. 
 
 " What's the matter, my little father?" said his wife ; 
 " dinner has been served some time, and we cannot get 
 thee to come." 
 
 " The fact is, Vassilissa Yegorovna," answered Ivan 
 Kouzmitch, " I was on duty ; I was instructing the little 
 soldiers." 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense," reiterated his wife ; " thou only 
 
 * Mary, the daughter of John. Tr. f Cabbage soup. Tr.
 
 32 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 boastest when thou talkest of teaching soldiers ; they are 
 not suited for the service, nor dost thou know anything 
 about it thyself. It would be better if thou would'st 
 stay at home and say thy prayers. My esteemed guests, 
 pray be seated." 
 
 We took our places. Vassilissa Yegorovna was not 
 silent for an instant, and kept putting all manner of 
 questions to me : who were my parents ? were 'they 
 alive ? where did they live ? what was their income ? 
 Upon learning that my father possessed three hundred 
 peasants, " Is it possible !" she said ; " well, there are 
 rich people in the world ! we possess only one soul,* the 
 girl Pal^shka, but, thank God, we manage to exist. We 
 are beset but by one trouble : Masha is a marriageable 
 girl, and what is her dower to be ? a comb, a broom, and 
 a few pence wherewith to pay for her bath. 'Twere well 
 if some good man would take her with so much, other- 
 wise she must remain an old maid." 
 
 I looked at Maria Ivanovna. She had blushed 
 crimson, and tears were dropping on her plate. I felt for 
 her and hastened to change the conversation. 
 
 "I have heard," I said, somewhat inopportunely, "it 
 is apprehended that the Bashkirs purpose attacking your 
 fortress." 
 
 " Who did'st thou hear that from, my little father ?" 
 asked Ivan Kouzmitch. 
 
 " I was told so at Orenburg," answered I. 
 
 " Nonsense !" said the commandant, " we have not 
 heard anything about it for a long time. The Bashkirs 
 
 * By the term soul was understood a serf. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 33 
 
 have been intimidated, and the Khirghis have also learnt 
 a lesson. Never fear, they will not touch us ; and should 
 they do so, I will punish them to such an extent as 
 would compel them to keep still for the next ten 
 years." 
 
 " And are you not afraid," I continued, addressing the 
 captain's wife, " to remain in a fortress threatened by 
 such dangers ?" 
 
 " It is a matter of habit, my little father," said she 
 " Twenty years ago we were transferred' to this place 
 from the regiment, and dear me, how frightened I used 
 to be of those d d heathens ! It was enough for me to 
 see their fur caps and to hear their yells, and my heart 
 seemed to stop beating ! And now I do not even stir 
 when I am told that those wretches are groping about 
 the fortress." v 
 
 "Vassilissa Yegorovna is a wonderfully brave lady," 
 observed Shvabrine, seriously, with a consequential air. 
 " Ivan Kouzmitch can bear witness to the fact." 
 
 " Yes, certainly," said Ivan Kouzmitch, " she is not one 
 of the timid ones." 
 
 " And Maria Ivanovna," asked I, " is she as brave as 
 you are ?" 
 
 " Masha brave T answered her mother. " No, Masha 
 is a coward. She cannot even hear a gun fired without 
 trembling all over. And when, two years ago, Ivan 
 Kouzmitch took it into his head to fire our cannon on 
 my name's day, my little dove almost died of fright. 
 Since then we have ceased to fire the d d cannon." 
 
 We rose from the table. The captain and his wife 
 
 3
 
 34 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 retired to enjoy their nap ; I accompanied Shvabrine to 
 his quarters, where I spent the remainder of the evening. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 SEVERAL weeks had elapsed, and my existence at the 
 fortress of Byelogorsk became not only bearable, but even 
 agreeable. I was received at the house of the com- 
 mandant as if I were one of the family. Both husband 
 and wife were most excellent people. Ivan Kouzmitch, 
 who had risen from the ranks, was simple-minded and 
 uneducated, but most honest and kind-hearted. His 
 wife ruled over him, which accorded well with his indolent 
 disposition. Yassilissa Yegorovna assumed the direction 
 of all matters connected with the service, as she did those 
 of her household, and governed the fortress as she 
 governed her own house. Maria Ivanovna soon became 
 less shy of me. We got to know each other better, and 
 I discovered her to be a sensible and feeling girl. I 
 became imperceptibly attached to these good people, 
 including even Ivan Ignatitch, the one-eyed sub-lieutenant 
 of the garrison, whom Shvabrine accused of undue 
 familiarity with Vassilissa Yegorovna, although there 
 was not a shadow of truth in the statement ; but this did 
 not trouble Shvabrine. 
 
 I attained my officer's rank. The service did not weigh 
 heavily on me. In this fortress, which owed its protec-
 
 THE CAPTAIN 'S DA UGHTER. 35 
 
 tion to God alone, parades, exercises, and guards were 
 dispensed with. The commandant instructed the soldiers 
 himself from time to time, as he felt disposed, but he had 
 not .yet succeeded in teaching them to distinguish the 
 right from the left side. Shvabrine possessed a fevr 
 French books. I read them, and they awakened in me 
 a taste for literature. Tn the forenoon I read, translated, 
 and sometimes attempted the composition of verses. I 
 invariably dined at the commandant's, where I usually 
 passed the rest of the day, and occasionally Father 
 Gherassim, with his wife Akoulina Pamphylovna,* the 
 great tale-bearer in the neighbourhood, used to spend the 
 evening with us. Of course Aleksey Ivanovitch Shva- 
 brine and I met daily; but his conversations became 
 more and more distasteful to me. I did not like his con- 
 tinuing to make a laughing-stock of the commandant's- 
 family, and especially his cutting remarks about Maria 
 Ivanovna. Of other society there was none at the 
 fortress, nor did I wish for any. 
 
 In spite of the prophecy, the Bashkirs did not revolt. 
 Tranquillity reigned in our fortress. But this peace was 
 unexpectedly interrupted by intestine strife. I have 
 already said, that I was engaged in literary pursuits. 
 My efforts, for the times, were tolerably successful, and 
 were, a few years later, approved by Alexander Petro- 
 vitch Soumarokoff.'f* One song I wrote pleased me very 
 much. It is a fact that under pretext of seeking advice, 
 
 * Aquiline, the daughter of Pamphylius. Tr. 
 t Alexander, the son of Peter. Soumarokoff, a .Russian poet 
 and tragedian, 1718 77. Tr. 
 
 32
 
 : 36 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 writers are frequently but in search of a well-disposed 
 listener. Thus, copying my little song, I took it to 
 Shvabrine, who alone in the fortress was able to appre- 
 ciate a poetical production. After a short preface I drew 
 forth my manuscript and read the following verses : 
 
 " In annihilating thoughts of love I seek to forget the fair one, and 
 Alas ! it is in fleeing Masha, that I hope to win back my free- 
 dom ! 
 
 *' But the eyes which have enslaved me are for ever in my sight ; 
 
 they 
 Have disquieted my spirit, they have destroyed my peace. 
 
 " Thou, Masha, who learn'st my woes, have pity upon me ; 
 Thou seest my cruel state, and knowest I am thy captive." 
 
 " What dost thou think of this ?" asked I of Shvabrine, 
 in expectation of praise as a tribute to which I was 
 entitled. But, to my great vexation, Shvabrine, whom I 
 usually found indulgent, decidedly declared that my song 
 was worthless. " Why so ?" I asked, concealing my 
 vexation. 
 
 "Because," he replied, "such verses are only worthy 
 of my master Vassily Kyrylitch Trediakovsky,* and 
 remind me very much of his amorous couplets." Here he 
 took my manuscript and proceeded to pick each verse to 
 pieces, unmercifully, taunting me the while in the most 
 stinging manner. I could stand it no longer, so, tearing 
 the paper out of his hands, I declared that I would never 
 again show him any of my compositions. Shvabrine also 
 mocked at my threat. 
 
 * Basil, the son of Cyril. Trediakovsky, a greatly reviled poet, 
 during the reign of Catherine II. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 37 
 
 " We shall see," said he, " whether them wilt keep thy 
 word; a poet requires a listener, just as Ivan Kouzmitch 
 requires the vodka decanter before dinner. Say, who is 
 that Masha to whom thou declarest thy tender passion 
 and thy woes in love ? Can it be Maria Ivanovna ?" 
 
 "It is no business of thine," I replied, frowning, "who 
 this Masha is. I ask neither thy opinion nor thy sup- 
 positions." 
 
 " Oho ! conceited poet and cautious lover !" continued 
 Shvabrine, irritating me more and more ; " but listen to 
 a friendly piece of advice ; if thou art anxious to meet 
 with success I advise thee not to have recourse to songs." 
 
 " What does this mean, sir ? explain thyself." 
 
 "Willingly. This means that if thou will'st that 
 Masha Mironoff should meet thee at twilight, thou must, 
 instead of these tender verses, present her with a pair of 
 earrings." 
 
 My blood boiled. 
 
 " And why hast thou formed that opinion of her ?" I 
 asked, with difficulty suppressing my indignation. 
 
 " Because," answered he with a diabolical smile, " I 
 know by experience her tastes and habits." 
 
 " Thou liest, blackguard !" exclaimed I furiously ; 
 " thou liest shamelessly." 
 
 Shvabrine's face altered. 
 
 " This cannot be passed over," said he, squeezing my 
 hand ; " you will give me satisfaction." 
 
 " Very well ; whenever you please," answered I, re- 
 joiced. 
 
 At that moment I was ready to tear him to pieces. I
 
 38 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 repaired at once to Ivan Ignatitch, and found him needle 
 in hand : by order of the commandant's wife he was 
 stringing mushrooms, which were to be dried for the 
 winter. 
 
 "Ah ! Piotr Andrevitch !" said he on seeing me ; " you 
 are welcome. What brings you here ? What business, 
 may I ask ?" 
 
 In a few words I explained to him that I had had a 
 row with Aleksey Ivanovitch, and asked him to be my 
 second. Fixing his one eye on me, Ivan Ignatitch listened 
 attentively. 
 
 " You say," said he, " that you are about to kill Aleksey 
 Ivanovitch and wish me to be a witness ! Is it so, may 
 laskT 
 
 " It is so." 
 
 " Dear me, Piotr Andrevitch ! What are you think- 
 ing of ? You have had words with Aleksey Ivanovitch ? 
 There is no great harm in that. He insulted you, you 
 insult him in return ; he gives you a blow in the face, 
 you give him a box on the ear a second, and a third 
 and go your way; we will bring you together again. 
 Instead _of this, is it a right thing to do to kill one's 
 neighbour, may I ask ? At least, if you were sure of 
 killing him, God be with him, with Aleksey Ivanovitch ; 
 I myself don't care much about him. But, supposing he 
 makes a hole through you ? what a business that would 
 be. Who will be the fool then, may I ask ?" 
 
 The good sub-lieutenant's reasoning did not move me. 
 I did not swerve from my resolution. 
 
 "As you please," said Ivan Ignatitch, "please your-
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 39 
 
 self; but why should I be a witness to the affair? What 
 for ? What is there strange, that people should choose 
 to fight, may I ask ? Thank goodness, I fought against the 
 Swede and the Turk; there is nothing new in it." I 
 endeavoured to explain the duties of a second, but Ivan 
 Ignatitch was quite unable to comprehend me. " Do as 
 you please," said he, "but if I were to assent to be mixed 
 up in this affair, it would, perhaps, only be to go to Ivan 
 Kouzmitch and report to him officially, that a crime is 
 contemplated in the fortress, contrary to the interests of 
 the Crown ; and would the commandant be pleased to 
 take the necessary measures ....?" 
 
 I became alarmed, and entreated Ivan Ignatitch " not 
 to say anything to the commandant ;" I prevailed upon 
 him, with great difficulty, and having exacted his pro- 
 mise, I left. 
 
 The evening was spent, as usual, at the commandant's 
 house. I tried to appear cheerful and unconcerned, so as 
 not to excite suspicion, and to escape importunate ques- 
 tions; but I own I did not feel as unconcerned as persons 
 in my position usually boast themselves to be. That 
 evening, I felt sentimental and impressionable. Maria 
 Ivanovna pleased me more than ever. The thought that 
 I was perhaps looking upon her for the last time, added 
 something touching to her appearance in my sight. 
 Shvabrine was also there. I took him aside and apprised 
 him of my conversation with Ivan Ignatitch. " What 
 should we want seconds for ?" said he, dryly ; " we can do 
 without them." It was convened that we should fight 
 behind the haystacks in the vicinity of the fortress, the
 
 40 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 following morning at six o'clock. We were to all appear- 
 ances conversing so amicably, that the overjoyed Ivan 
 Ignatitch almost betrayed himself. " That's how it ought 
 to have been long ago," said he to me in a pleased counten- 
 ance ; " defective peace is better than a good row ; if it 
 is not honourable, at least it is attended with safety." 
 
 " What is it you are saying, Ivan Ignatitch ?" said the 
 commandant's wife, who was playing at cards in a corner. 
 " I did not quite hear it." 
 
 Ivan Ignatitch, perceiving that I was displeased, and 
 recollecting his promise, became confused and scarcely 
 knew what reply to make. Shvabrine hastened to the 
 rescue. 
 
 " Ivan Ignatitch," said he, " approves of our peace- 
 making." 
 
 "And who did'st thou fall out with, my little father ?" 
 
 " We had all but a serious row, Piotr Andrevitch 
 and I." 
 
 " What about ?" 
 
 " About a mere nothing; a song, Vassilissa Yegorovna." 
 
 " Could you find nothing better to quarrel about ? a 
 song! .... how did it happen?" 
 
 " In this way ; Piotr Andrevitch has lately composed a 
 song, which he sang to me to-day, and I replied by hum- 
 ming my favourite : 
 
 " ' Captain's Daughter, 
 
 Do not take thy walk at midnight.' 
 
 Discord was the result. Piotr Andrevitch got quite 
 angry, but upon reflection, he admitted that everybody 
 was free to sing what he pleases; thus the affair ended."
 
 THE CAPTAIN 'S DA UGHTEB. 41 
 
 Shvabrine's impudence almost enraged me ; none but 
 myself seemed to have understood his coarse allusions ; 
 at least no one took any notice of them. The subject of 
 songs led to a discussion on the merits of poets, and the 
 commandant observed that they were all useless crea- 
 tures and dreadful drunkards, and advised me, as a friend, 
 to leave off writing verses, an occupation prejudicial to 
 the service, and leading to no good. 
 
 Shvabrine's presence was unbearable. I took an early 
 leave of the commandant and his family ; on my return 
 home, I examined my sword, tried its point, and went to 
 bed, having left orders with Savelitch to call me at six 
 o'clock. 
 
 The next morning, at the appointed hour, I was already 
 standing behind the haystacks, waiting for my adversary. 
 He soon appeared. " We might be caught out," he said, 
 " we must be quick." We laid aside our uniform, keeping 
 on our waistcoats, and drew our swords. At that instant 
 Ivan Ignatitch, at the head of five invalids, rushed from 
 behind the stacks. He summoned us to the commandant. 
 We were vexed, but obeyed, the soldiers surrounded us, 
 and we followed Ivan Ignatitch, who led the way in 
 triumph, stepping out with an air of great importance. 
 
 We entered the house, Ivan Ignatitch threw open the 
 door, and exclaimed, with solemnity, " I have brought 
 them !" Vassilissa Yegorovna met us. " Ah ! my little 
 fathers! What does this mean? How ! what! a preme- 
 ditated murder in our fortress ! Ivan Kouzmitch, they 
 must immediately be placed under arrest. Piotr An- 
 drevitch ! Aleksey Ivanovitch ! give me your swords ;
 
 42 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 give them up, give them up. Palashka, take these 
 swords into the lumber-room. Piotr Andrevitch, I did 
 not expect this of thee. Art thou not ashamed of thy- 
 self ? Aleksey Ivanovitch is different ; was he not trans- 
 ferred from the Guards for having caused a soul to perish ? 
 he does not even believe in our Lord ; but thou ! dost 
 thou want to do the same ?" Ivan Kouzmitch fully 
 agreed with his spouse, and kept repeating : " Yes, yes, 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna is right. Duelling is especially 
 forbidden by the articles of war." Palashka carried our 
 swords to the lumber-room. I could not help laughing ; 
 Shvabrine preserved his equanimity. " With all due 
 respect to you," said he coolly, "I cannot but remark, 
 that you have given yourself unnecessary trouble in sub- 
 jecting us to your judgment. Leave that to Ivan Kouz- 
 mitch ; it is his business." " Dear me, my little father !" 
 replied the commandant's wife, " are not husband and 
 wife one spirit and one flesh ? Ivan Kouzmitch ! what 
 art thou gaping at ? Put them immediately into separate 
 rooms, on bread and water, to knock all this nonsense out 
 of their heads. And let Father Gherassim make them 
 do penance, to the end that they should ask God's for- 
 giveness, and show themselves repentant before man." 
 
 Ivan Kouzmitch could not make up his mind what to 
 do. Maria Ivanovna looked exceedingly pale. By 
 degrees, the storm abated ; the commandant's wife 
 regained her composure, and ordered us to embrace each 
 other. PaMshka returned to us our swords. We left 
 the commandant apparently at peace with each other. 
 Ivan Ignatitch accompanied us. " How is it you are not
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UOHTEB. 43 
 
 ashamed," said I, angrily, " of having denounced us to the 
 commandant, after having promised me that you would 
 not do so ?" " As God lives, I did not tell it to Ivan 
 Kouzmitch," answered he. " Vassilissa Yegorovna drew 
 it all out of me. She it was who made all arrangements 
 without the commandant's knowledge. However, thank 
 God that all has ended so well." With these words, he 
 returned homewards, and Shvabrine and I remained 
 alone. "The affair cannot end thus," said I to him. 
 " Of course not," answered Shvabrine ; "you must answer 
 to me with your blood for your impertinence ; but we 
 shall probably be watched. We shall have to dissemble 
 for a few days. Good-bye." And we separated, as if 
 nothing had occurred. 
 
 On my return to the commandant's house, I took my 
 seat next to Maria Ivanovna as usual. Ivan Kouzmitch 
 was not at home ; Vassilissa Yegorovna was busy with 
 her housekeeping duties. We conversed in an under- 
 tone. Maria Ivanovna reproached me tenderly for the 
 anxiety I had caused them all by my quarrel with 
 Shvabrine. 
 
 " My heart failed me," said she, " when we were told 
 that you were going to fight with swords. How odd you 
 men are ! For a chance word which might most likely 
 be forgotten in a week, you are ready to stab each 
 other and to sacrifice, not only your lives, but also your 
 consciences, and the happiness of those who . . . But I 
 feel sure that the quarrel was not of your seeking the 
 fault was surely that of Aleksey Ivanovitch." 
 
 " And what makes you think so, Maria Ivanovna ?"
 
 44 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " I scarcely know. . . . He is so fond of ridiculing 
 everybody. I do not like Aleksey Ivanovitch. I have 
 an antipathy for him, and yet it is strange, I should not 
 like to displease him. It would make me very anxious." 
 
 " And what do you think, Maria Ivanovna ? does he 
 like you or not ?" 
 
 Maria Ivanovna looked confused and blushed. 
 
 " I think," she said, " I think I do please him." 
 
 " But why do you think so ?" 
 
 " Because he proposed to me." 
 
 " Proposed ! he proposed to you ! when ?" 
 
 " Last year. Two months before your arrival.'' 
 
 " And you did not accept him ?" 
 
 " I did not, as you see. Aleksey Ivanovitch is, of 
 course, a clever man, of good birth, and some fortune ; 
 but when I think that I should have to kiss him in the 
 presence of everybody under the crown* never ! not for 
 anything in the world." 
 
 Maria Ivanovna's words opened my eyes and explained 
 a great many things to me. I understood why Shvabrine 
 persisted in slandering her. He had probably noticed our 
 mutual liking, and wished to draw us away from each 
 other. The words which had given rise to our quarrel 
 appeared to me to be still more abominable, when I dis- 
 covered in them a premeditated calumny, and not only a 
 coarse indecent joke. The desire to punish the daring 
 caluminator became stronger within me, and I impatiently 
 awaited a fitting opportunity. 
 
 * Crowns are held over the heads of the bride and bridegroom 
 during the marriage ceremony. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 45 
 
 I had not to wait long. The next day whilst I 
 was writing an elegy, and biting my pen in search of a 
 rhyme, Shvabrine rapped at my window. I dropped my 
 pen, snatched up my sword, and went out to him. 
 
 " Why should we delay," said Shvabrine ; " nobody is 
 watching us. Let us go down to the river side. No one 
 will hinder us there." 
 
 We walked away in silence. Having descended by a 
 steep foot path, we stopped close to the river and bared 
 our swords. Shvabrine was the most expert, but I was 
 stronger and bolder, arid M. Beaupre, who had once been 
 a soldier, had given me some lessons in fencing, which 
 had not been lost upon me. Shvabrine had not expected 
 to find such a dangerous adversary in me. For a long 
 time, neither of us could harm the other ; at last, per- 
 ceiving that Shvabrine was losing strength, I thrust at 
 him quickly, and made him retire almost into the river. 
 Suddenly I heard my name called out in a loud voice. I 
 turned and saw Savelitch hurrying to me over the hill- 
 side path. . . . At that moment, I felt a sharp prick in 
 the chest, a little below the right shoulder. I fell and 
 lost all consciousness. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 UPON coming to myself again, I was not able for a long 
 time to collect my thoughts, nor was I able to understand
 
 46 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 what had happened to me. I lay on a bed in a strange 
 room, feeling great weakness. Savelitch stood by me, 
 holding a candle. Somebody was carefully removing the 
 bandages which enveloped my chest and shoulder. Little 
 by little my thoughts became clearer. I remembered the 
 duel, and guessed that I had been wounded. Just then 
 the door creaked. 
 
 " Well, how is he ?" whispered a voice that made me 
 start. 
 
 " Still in the same condition," answered Savelitch, with 
 a sigh ; " still unconscious, and this is the fifth day !" 
 I essayed to turn, but could not. 
 " Where am I ? Who is here ?" said I, with an effort. 
 Maria Ivanovna approached my bed and bent over me. 
 " How do you feel ?" said she. 
 " Thank God," I answered, in a feeble voice ; " is it 
 
 you, Maria Ivanovna ? Tell me " 
 
 I had not the strength to proceed. Savelitch uttered 
 an exclamation. His face beamed with joy. 
 
 " He has come to ! he has come to !" he repeated. 
 " Glory to Thee, O Lord ! Well, my little father, Piotr 
 Andrevitch ! thou hast frightened me ! It is no joke ; 
 this is the fifth day !...." 
 
 Maria Ivanovna interrupted him. 
 
 " Do not talk to him much, Savelitch," said she ; " he 
 is still weak !" 
 
 She left, and closed the door gently after her. My 
 thoughts were disturbed. I was at the commandant's 
 house. Maria Ivanovna had really come to me. I wished 
 to ask Savelitch some questions ; but the old man shook
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 47 
 
 Ids head and stopped his ears. I closed my eyes in vexa- 
 tion and soon fell asleep. 
 
 Upon awaking, I called Savelitch ; but instead of him, 
 I saw Maria Ivanovna before me. Her angelic voice 
 spoke to me. I cannot express the delightful sensation 
 which overcame me at that moment. I seized her hand, 
 and pressed my lips to it, bathing it in my tears. Masha 
 did not withdraw it. ... And suddenly her lips touched 
 my cheek, and I felt their pure and warm impress. I 
 was all on fire. 
 
 "My dear sweet Maria Ivanovna," said I; "be my 
 wife ; consent to my happiness." 
 
 She recollected herself. 
 
 " For God's sake, be calm/' she said, drawing her hand 
 away. " You are still in danger ; the wound might open 
 afresh. Do take care of yourself, were it but for my 
 sake." 
 
 With these words she went away,leaving me enraptured. 
 So much happiness resuscitated me. She will be mine ! 
 She loves me ! This conviction filled my whole being. 
 
 From that time I mended hourly. I was attended by 
 the regimental barber, for there was no medical man in 
 the fortress, and thank God, he had no pretentious to too 
 much wisdom. Youth and nature hastened my recovery. 
 All the commandant's family nursed me. Maria Ivanovna 
 never quitted me. As a matter of course, I resumed my 
 unfinished declaration at the first opportunity, and Maria 
 Ivanovna listened to me with greater patience. Without 
 any affectation, she confessed her sincere attachment, and
 
 48 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 said that her parents would no doubt be rejoiced at her 
 happiness. 
 
 " But reflect well," she added, " will there be no hin- 
 drance on the part of thy parents ?" 
 
 I became pensive. I could not entertain any doubt of 
 my mother's tenderness for me ; but knowing the dis- 
 position and mode of thinking of my father, I felt that 
 my attachment would not affect him much, and that he 
 would merely consider it a young man's fancy. I candidly 
 admitted this to Maria Ivanovna, making up my mind, 
 however, to write an eloquent letter to my father, to ask 
 for his parental blessing. I showed my letter to Maria 
 Ivanovna, who thought it so convincing and so touching, 
 that she did not doubt its success, and gave herself up to 
 the feelings of her tender heart in all the confidence of 
 youth and love. 
 
 I made my peace with Shvabrine during the first days 
 of my convalescence. When reprimanding me for fighting 
 the duel, Ivan Kouzmitch said 
 
 " Ah ! Piotr Andrevitch ! I ought to put thee under 
 arrest ; but thou art already sufficiently punished. As to 
 Aleksey Ivanovitch, he is a prisoner in the bread-room 
 with a sentry over him, and Vassilissa Yegorovna has his 
 sword under lock and key. Let him have time to reflect 
 and repent." 
 
 I was too happy to suffer any ill-will to dwell in my 
 heart. I interceded in behalf of Shvabrine, and the 
 good commandant, with his wife's consent, released him. 
 Shvabrine came to me ; he expressed his deep regret at 
 what had taken place between us; confessed that the
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 49 
 
 fault was entirely his own, and entreated me to forget the 
 past. Not being naturally of a malicious disposition, I 
 sincerely forgave him our quarrel, and the wound he had 
 inflicted on me. I perceived in his slander, the vexation 
 caused by wounded vanity and rejected love, and gene- 
 rously made allowances for my unhappy rival. 
 
 I soon became restored to health, when I removed to 
 my own lodgings. I awaited with impatience a reply to 
 my letter, not daring to hope, but trying to stifle my 
 gloomy presentiments. I had not as yet entered upon 
 any explanations with Vassilissa Yegorovna and her 
 husband ; but my proposal ought not to have astonished 
 them. Neither of us sought to conceal our feelings in their 
 presence, and we already felt assured of their consent. 
 
 At last Savelitch came to me one morning, bringing a 
 letter. I snatched it tremblingly. It was addressed in 
 my father's hand. This bid me prepare for something of 
 importance, for letters were generally written by my 
 mother, my father adding a few lines at the end. I could 
 not decide upon breaking the seal for a long time, and 
 kept reading the formal superscription : " To my son, 
 Piotr Andrevitch Griueff, Government of Orenburg, For- 
 tress of Byelogorsk." I tried to guess by the handwriting 
 what humour my father could have been in when he 
 wrote the letter. At length I opened it, and saw by the 
 first lines that the whole affair had gone to the- d 1. 
 
 The contents of the letter were as follows : 
 
 " MY SON PIOTR, 
 
 "The letter in which thou askest our paternal 
 
 4
 
 50 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 benediction and consent to thy marriage with Maria 
 Ivanovna, daughter of Mironoff, we received on the loth 
 of this month, and not only do I not intend to give thee 
 my blessing or my consent, but, moreover, I mean to be 
 up to thee, and punish thee for thy follies like a naughty 
 boy, notwithstanning thy officer's rank; for thou hast 
 proved that thou art as yet unworthy of wearing a sword, 
 which was given thee for the defence of thy country, and 
 not for fighting duels with such scamps as thou thyself 
 art. I shall write without delay to Andrey Karlovitch 
 to ask him to remove thee from the fortress of Byelogorsk, 
 and send thee further away, so that thou shalt shake off 
 such follies. Thy mother, upon hearing of thy duel, and 
 that thou wast wounded, fell ill of grief, and is still con- 
 fined to her bed. What is to become of thee ? I pray 
 to God to effect a change in thee though I dare not hope 
 in His great mercy. 
 
 " Thy father, 
 
 " ANDREY GRIUEFF." 
 
 The perusal of this letter, awakened in me a variety of 
 sensations. The unkind expressions my father employed 
 so liberally, wounded me deeply. The contempt with 
 which he mentioned Maria Ivanovna, appeared to me as 
 unbecoming as it was unjust. The prospect of being 
 removed from the fortress of Byelogorsk, alarmed me ; 
 but the news of my mother's illness pained me most. I 
 felt indignant towards Savelitch, never doubting that my 
 parents had heard of my duel through him. Pacing to 
 and fro in my little room, I stopped in front of him, and 
 looking at him fiercely, said, " Thou dost not appear to
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 51 
 
 be satisfied, that thanks to thee I was wounded, and that 
 I lay for a whole month at death's door ; thou wilt now 
 kill my mother also." 
 
 Savelitch looked thunderstruck. 
 
 " For pity's sake, sir," said he, almost sobbing, " what 
 dost thou say ? I the cause of thy being wounded ? God 
 is my witness, that I was hastening to put my breast 
 between thee and the sword of Aleksey Ivanovitch ? My 
 
 d d old age retarded me; and how have I harmed 
 
 thy mother ?" 
 
 " How hast thou harmed her ?" I answered. " Who 
 asked thee to write and denounce me ? Wast thou ap- 
 pointed as a spy over me ?" 
 
 " I ! denounce thee !" asked Savelitch, in tears. " Oh, 
 Lord ! heavenly King ! There, take, read, what my master 
 writes to me ; thou wilt see how I have denounced thee." 
 
 " Shame upon thee, old cur that thou art, that notwith- 
 standing my strict injunctions, thou hast not written to 
 me about my son, Piotr Andrevitch, and that strangers 
 should be obliged to acquaint me of his follies. Is that 
 the way thou fulfillest thy duty and thy master's wishes ? 
 I shall send thee, thou old cur, to feed swine, for hiding 
 the truth and conniving with the young man. I order 
 thee to give me immediate information, so soon as thou 
 shalt receive this, upon the state of his health, which I 
 am told is improved ; also what part of the body he was 
 wounded in, and whether he has been well attended to." 
 
 Savelitch was evidently guiltless, and I had incau- 
 tiously hurt him by my reproaches and suspicions. I 
 begged his pardon, but the old man was inconsolable. 
 
 42
 
 52 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " This is what I have lived to see," he kept repeating ; 
 " these are the thanks I get for serving my masters ! An 
 old cur, a swineherd, and it is again I who have caused 
 thy wound ! No, my little father, Piotr Andreitch, it 
 
 is not I, but the d d monssitf who is to blame for it 
 
 all. It is he who taught thee to flourish iron spits about, 
 and stamp with thy foot, as if by flourishing and stamping 
 one could defend oneself against a bad man ! Yes, truly, 
 it was necessary to engage monssie, and waste one's 
 money !" 
 
 " But who could have taken the trouble to inform my 
 father of my conduct ? The general ? He did not seem 
 to care very much about me, and Ivan Kouzmitch had 
 not considered it necessary to report my duel." 
 
 I was lost in surmises ; my suspicion fell on Shvabrine. 
 He alone could have benefited by such a denunciation, 
 which might possibly have resulted in my removal from 
 the fortress, and my separation from the commandant's 
 family. I went to Maria Ivanovna to tell her all. She 
 met me at the porch. 
 
 " What is the matter with you ?" said she, on seeing 
 me. " How pale you are !" 
 
 " Everything is at an end !" answered I, handing to her 
 my father's letter. 
 
 It was now her turn to look pale. Having read it, she 
 returned it with a trembling hand, and said in an agi- 
 tated voice, " It is not my fate .... your parents do 
 not wish to admit me into their family. God's will be 
 done ! He knows better what is good for us. There is
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UQHTERi 53 
 
 no help for it; Piotr Andrevitch, may you at least be 
 happy . . . ." 
 
 " It shall not be," exclaimed I, seizing her hand ; " thou 
 lovest me ; I am prepared for everything. Let us go ; 
 let us kneel before thy parents ; they are simple people, 
 and not hardhearted and proud. . . . They will bless us, 
 and we shall marry. . . . And then, in time, we shall, I 
 feel certain, bend my father's will. My mother will be 
 on our side he will forgive me. . . ." 
 
 " No, Piotr Andrevitch," replied Masha, " I shall not 
 marry thee without thy parents' blessing. Without thy 
 parents' blessing, thou shalt have no happiness. Let us 
 submit to God's will. Should'st thou find a bride, 
 should'st thou love another God be with thee, Piotr 
 Andrevitch, and I shall pray for thee both. . . ." 
 
 Here she burst into tears and left me ; I was about to 
 follow her into the house, but felt that I was unable to 
 master my emotion, so I returned home. 
 
 I sat in deep meditation, which was suddenly inter- 
 rupted by Savelitch. 
 
 " Here, sir," said he, giving me a written sheet of 
 paper ; " see how I denounce my master, and how I try 
 to set the father against the son." 
 
 I took the paper from his hand it was Savelitch's 
 answer to the letter he had received. Here it is, word 
 for word : 
 
 " ANDREY PETROVITCH, SIR, OUR MERCIFUL FATHER, 
 
 " I received your gracious writing, in which you 
 deign to reproach me, your slave, for that I ought to be
 
 54 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ashamed not to obey my master's orders. I am not an 
 old cur, but your faithful servant, who obeys his master's 
 orders and has served him zealously up to his gray hairs. 
 I did not write anything about the wound of Piotr 
 Andrevitch, so as not to frighten you without cause, and I 
 hear that our mistress and mother, Avdotia Vassilievna, 
 has, as it is, taken to her bed from fear, and I shall pray 
 to God for her health. Piotr Andrevitch was wounded 
 below the right shoulder, in the breast just below the 
 rib, the wound being about half a vershok* deep, and he 
 laid at the commandant's house, where we carried him 
 from the shore, and was attended to by the local barber, 
 Stepan Paramonoff, and now Piotr Andrevitch is, thank 
 God, well, and I have nothing to write of him but what 
 is good. The commandants are, I hear, satisfied with 
 him, and Vassilissa Yegorovna treats him as if he were 
 her own son. And that such an occasion did happen to 
 him, must not be reckoned as a reproach to the young 
 man a horse lias four legs and yet lie stumbles. You 
 deign to write that you will send me to feed swine I 
 submit if it is your lordship's will. Herewith I salute 
 you as a slave. 
 
 " Your faithful slave, 
 
 " ARHIPP SAVELITCH." 
 
 I could not help smiling occasionally whilst reading 
 the good old man's writing. I myself was not in a state 
 to answer my father's letter ; I considered Savelitch's 
 sufficient for the purpose of tranquillizing my mother. 
 
 * A vershok = 1.75 English inch. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 55 
 
 From this period my position altered. Maria Ivan- 
 ovna scarcely spoke to me, and tried to avoid me in 
 every manner. The commandant's house became unen- 
 durable. Gradually, I accustomed myself to remain at 
 home alone. Vassilissa Yegorovna reproached me for 
 this, at first, but finding me obstinate, she left me in 
 peace. I only saw Ivan Kouzmitch when on duty; 
 Shvabrine I met seldom and reluctantly, the more so 
 because I noticed his hidden dislike to me, which helped 
 to confirm my suspicions. My existence became insup- 
 portable. I lapsed into a gloomy state of melancholy, 
 fostered by my loneliness and inaction. This solitude 
 intensified my love, which hourly became more burden- 
 some to me. I lost all desire for reading and literature. 
 My spirits sank. I feared lest I should either lose my 
 reason, or abandon myself to dissolute habits. Unex- 
 pected events, which largely influenced my subsequent 
 career, agitated my very soul violently and beneficially. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 POUGATCHEFF.* 
 
 BEFORE entering on the account of the singular events 
 
 * Emilian Pougatcheff, a Cossack of the Don, who had served 
 during the Seven Years' War in the armies of Russia, Prussia, and 
 Austria ; returning to his own country, he incited a rebellion in 
 1773, assuming to be Peter III., who had been assassinated in 
 1762. Defeated on the banks of the Volga in 1774, and captured, 
 lie was beheaded at Moscow the following year. Tr.
 
 66 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 to which I was a witness, I must say a few words with 
 respect to the conditions of the Government of Orenburg, 
 at the close of the year 1773. 
 
 This vast and rich government was peopled by a large 
 number of half-savage tribes, who had but recently ac- 
 knowledged the supremacy of the Russian emperors. 
 Their continual uprisings, their freedom from laws and a 
 state of civilization, their levity and cruelty, necessitated 
 constant watchfulness on the part of the government, in 
 order to keep them in subjection. Fortresses were erected 
 in suitable places, where Cossacks, who were the original 
 possessors of the shores of the Yaik, were permanently 
 located. But the Cossacks of the Yaik, whose duty it 
 was to ensure the peace and safety of this territoiy, had 
 for some time past become turbulent and dangerous sub- 
 jects of the crown. In 1772 a tumult took place in their 
 chief town. The cause of it originated in the severe 
 measures adopted by Major-general Traubenberg to bring 
 the troops into due submission. The result was, the 
 barbarous murder of Traubenberg, a self- constituted 
 change in the leadership, and finally, the suppression of 
 the revolt by means of grape-shot and the infliction of 
 cruel punishment. 
 
 This had happened shortly before my arrival at the 
 fortress of Byelogorsk. Everything now was quiet, or 
 appeared to be so. The authorities had too easily be- 
 lieved in the feigned repentance of the wily rebels, who 
 were secretly nursing their hatred, and were only await- 
 ing a fitting opportunity for the removal of disorders. 
 
 I return to my narrative.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTEB. 57 
 
 Sitting alone one evening (this was in the beginning 
 of October, 1773), I was listening to the whistling of the 
 autumn wind, and looking through the window, watched 
 the clouds which were passing rapidly across the moon. 
 The commandant sent for me ; I instantly obeyed. I 
 found Shvabrine, Ivan Ignatitch, and the Cossack orderly, 
 assembled at his house. Neither Vassilissa Yegorovna 
 nor Maria Ivanovna were in the room. The commandant 
 saluted me in a disturbed manner. He closed the door, 
 bid us all be seated, with the exception of the orderly, 
 who remained standing, drew a paper from his pocket, 
 and said, "Gentlemen, news of importacce ! Listen to 
 what the general writes." Here he put on his spectacles, 
 and read as follows : 
 
 "To THE COMMANDANT OF THE FORTRESS OF 
 BYELOGORSK, 
 
 "CAPTAIN MlRONOFF. 
 
 " Confidential. 
 
 " I herewith inform you that Emilian Pougatcheff, a 
 Cossack of the Don, and a sectarian, has escaped from 
 arrest, and having with unpardonable temerity assumed 
 the name of the late Emperor Peter III., has gathered 
 around him a band of wretches, has incited to sedition, 
 in the villages on the shores of the Yaik, and has already 
 taken and destroyed several fortresses, pillaging and 
 massacring everywhere. You are therefore, captain, 
 herewith commanded to adopt immediately, upon the 
 receipt of this, the necessary measures for repelling the
 
 58 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 above-named wretch and pretender; and you are, if 
 possible, to annihilate him entirely should he attempt to 
 attack the fortress entrusted to your charge." 
 
 " To take the necessary measures !" said the command- 
 ant, removing his spectacles, and folding the paper. " It 
 is very easy to say so. The rascal seems to be formid- 
 able, and we can only muster one hundred and thirty 
 men, all told, without including the Cossacks, on whom 
 we can scarcely rely ; no offence meant, Maksymitch " 
 (the orderly smiled). " However, let us be ready, gentle- 
 men. Be on the alert, establish sentry posts and night 
 rounds ; in the event of an attack, shut the gates and 
 assemble the soldiers. Thou, Maksymitch, must watch 
 thy Cossacks closely. Let the gun be examined and 
 properly cleaned. And above all things, let this be kept 
 secret, so that no person in the fortress shall know any- 
 thing about it before the time." 
 
 Having given these directions, Ivan Kouzmitch dis- 
 missed us. Shvabrine and I went away together, dis- 
 cussing what we had just heard. 
 
 " How dost thou think this will end ?" I asked. 
 
 " God knows," he answered ; " we shall see. I see 
 nothing alarming in all this as yet. But in case . . ." 
 
 Here he became thoughtful, absently whistling a 
 French tune. 
 
 Notwithstanding all our precautions, the news of 
 Pougatcheff's appearance had spread in the fortress. 
 Although Ivan Kouzmitch entertained the greatest 
 respect for his wife, nothing on earth would have in-
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 59 
 
 duced him to confide to her a service report of a con- 
 fidential nature. Upon receiving the general's letter, he 
 very cleverly disposed of Vassilissa Yegorovna, by telling 
 her that Father Gherassim had received astounding news 
 from Orenburg, which he mysteriously kept to himself. 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna immediately decided upon paying a 
 visit to the priest's wife, and acting upon the advice of 
 Ivan Kouzmitch, she took Masha with her, so that she 
 might not feel dull if left alone. 
 
 Ivan Kouzmitch left to himself, immediately sent for 
 us, having locked Palashka up in the lumber-room to 
 prevent her from eavesdropping. 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna returned home without having 
 been able to gather anything from the priest's wife, and 
 learned that Ivan Kouzmitch had held a council of war 
 during her absence, Palashka being in the meanwhile 
 locked up. Guessing that her husband had deceived her, 
 she commenced to question him. But Ivan Kouzmitch 
 was prepared for the attack. He never lost his presence 
 of mind, and replied to the queries of his inquisitive help- 
 mate courageously. 
 
 "You see, my little mother, our women here have 
 taken to light their stoves with straw, and as an accident 
 may easily result, in consequence, I have given strict 
 orders that they shall henceforth be prohibited from doing 
 so, and that they should light their stoves with faggots 
 and brushwood." 
 
 " Then why didst thou lock up Palashka ?" asked the 
 commandant's wife. " For what offence did the poor girl 
 have to sit in the lumber-room until our return ?"
 
 60 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Ivan Kouzmitch was not prepared for such a question. 
 He got puzzled and muttered something incoherently. 
 Persuaded of her husband's cunning, but knowing full well 
 that she should learn nothing of him, Vassilissa Yegorovna 
 ceased interrogating, and turned the conversation to salted 
 cucumbers, which Akoulina Pamphylovna prepared in 
 quite a peculiar manner. She could not sleep all night, 
 unable to conceive what could possibly occupy her 
 husband's mind, that she was not to know. 
 
 The next day, upon her return from mass, she saw Ivan 
 Ignatitch busily engaged extracting from the gun the 
 rags, pebbles, bits of wood, knuckle-bones, and all sorts of 
 rubbish with which the children had crammed it. 
 
 " What can these warlike preparations mean ?" mused 
 the commandant's wife. "Can it be possible that the 
 Khirghis are expected to attack ? But is it likely that 
 Ivan Kouzmitch conceals such trifles from me ?" She 
 called Ivan Ignatitch, determined to coax out of him the 
 secret which so tormented her female curiosity. 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna made some remarks having 
 reference to housekeeping, like a judge who prefaces his 
 interrogatory by putting irrelevant questions in order to 
 throw the accused off his guard. After a momentary 
 silence, she sighed deeply and said, shaking her 
 head 
 
 " Good God ! What news ! What will come of it ?" 
 
 "Well, my little mother!" answered Ivan Ignatitch, 
 " God is merciful. We have a pretty good number of 
 soldiers, plenty of powder, and I have cleaned out the
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 61 
 
 gun. We may yet repulse Pougatcheff. If God does not 
 forsake us, the pig ivill not eat us !"* 
 
 " And what is this Pougatcheff like ?" asked the com- 
 mandant's wife. 
 
 Here Ivan Ignatitch felt that he had betrayed himself, 
 and stopped short. But it was too late. Vassilissa 
 Yegorovna obliged him to confess everything, after 
 having promised not to tell any one. 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna kept her word, and did not tell 
 any one, except the priest's wife, and then she only did so 
 because her cow was out grazing on the steppe, and might 
 be carried off by the rascals. 
 
 Pougatcheff was soon in everybody's mouth. The 
 rumours respecting him varied. The commandant de- 
 spatched the orderly to the neighbouring villages and 
 fortresses to gain all possible information about him. 
 The orderly returned after a couple of days, and reported 
 that he had seen, at a distance of about sixty versts from 
 the fortress, a great many fires laid, and had heard from 
 the Bashkirs that an innumerable host was advancing. He 
 was not able, however, to affirm anything with certainty, 
 for he was afraid to venture too far. 
 
 It was easy to notice the general excitement that 
 prevailed among the Cossacks in. the fortress ; forming 
 themselves into little groups in the streets, they con- 
 versed in an undertone, and dispersed at the sight of a 
 dragoon or of one of the soldiers. Spies were set on 
 them. Youlai", a baptized Kalmuck, made to the com- 
 mandant an important disclosure. " The orderly's report," 
 
 * Kussian proverb. Tr.
 
 62 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Youlai said, "was false. On his return the stealthy 
 Cossack had declared to his comrades that he had been 
 with the rebels, had been conducted before their leader, 
 who had given him his hand to kiss, and had conversed 
 with him for a long time." The commandant immediately 
 made a prisoner of the Cossack, and appointed Youla'i in 
 his place. This news was received by the Cossacks 
 with evident dissatisfaction. They murmured aloud, and 
 Ivan Ignatitch, who carried the commandant's orders into 
 execution, heard them say with his own ears : " Thou 
 shalt catch it by-and-by, thou garrison rat !" It was 
 the intention of the commandant to have interrogated the 
 prisoner that very day ; but the orderly had made his 
 escape from confinement, probably by the aid of some 
 accomplices. 
 
 A fresh occurrence increased the commandant's uneasi- 
 ness. A Bashkir, upon whom were found seditious 
 papers, had been seized. The commandant again deemed 
 it necessary to assemble his officers, and again sought to 
 get rid of Vassilissa Yegorovna under some plausible 
 pretext. But being a straightforward and truthful man, 
 Ivan Kouzmitch could think of no other plan but that to 
 which he had already had recourse. 
 
 " Look here, Vassilissa Yegorovna," said he, coughing 
 several times ; " I am told that Father Gherassim has 
 received from the town " 
 
 " Leave off telling stories, Ivan Kouzmitch," interrupted 
 his wife. " Thou art probably about to assemble a council 
 to talk in my absence about Emilian Pougatcheff ; but 
 I shall not be taken in this time."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 63 
 
 Ivan Kouzmitch stared at her. 
 
 " Well, my little mother," said he ; " since thou dost 
 know all about it, thou mayst remain ; we shall talk it 
 over in thy presence." 
 
 " That's it, my little father," she answered ; " it is not 
 for thee to be so sly ; now, send for the officers." 
 
 We again met. Ivan Kouzmitch read to us in his 
 wife's presence Pougatcheff's proclamation, written pro- 
 bably by some illiterate Cossack. The scoundrel declared 
 it to be his intention to 'march on our fortress without 
 delay ; he invited the Cossacks and the soldiers to join 
 his band, and advised the commandant not to resist, under 
 pain of death. The proclamation was coarsely worded, 
 but in strong terms, and would undoubtedly have pro- 
 duced a mischievous influence on simple-minded people. 
 
 " There's a blackguard !" exclaimed the commandant's 
 wife. " What will he be demanding next ? Does he require 
 ' us to go out to meet him and lay the colours at his feet ? 
 Oh, the son of a dog ! He does not know that we have 
 served for forty years, and that, thank God, we have seen 
 something during that time ! Is it possible that there are 
 commandants who have yielded to the rascals T 
 
 " It should not be possible," answered Ivan Kouzmitch ; 
 " and yet I understand that the wretch has taken posses- 
 sion of many fortresses." 
 
 " He must indeed be strong," remarked Shvabrine. 
 
 " We shall soon know his real strength," said the com- 
 mandant. " Vassilissa Yegorovna, give me the key of the 
 store-room. Ivan Ignatitch, send the Bashkir here, and 
 order Youlai to bring the lash.''
 
 64 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " Wait a bit, Ivan Kouzmitch," said the commandant's 
 wife, rising. " Let me take Masha out of the house, or 
 she will get frightened on hearing shrieks. And truth to 
 tell, I myself am not fond of such investigations. Good- 
 bye to you." 
 
 The system of torture was so deeply rooted in the 
 administration of justice in the olden time, that the 
 humane ukase which abolished it, remained disregarded 
 for a considerable time. The prisoner's confession was 
 considered indispensable, to establish his conviction, 
 which is not only a false idea, but one also literally 
 opposed to common sense in a judicial point of view; for 
 if denial on the part of the culprit is not admissible as 
 proof of his innocence, still less should his confession be 
 accepted as evidence of guilt. Even at the present time 
 do I occasionally hear old judges regret the abolition of 
 that barbarous custom. But in those days no one doubted 
 the absolute necessity for it ; neither the judges nor yet 
 the accused themselves. The commandant's orders, there- 
 fore, did not astonish or disquiet any of us. Ivan Igna- 
 titch went for the Bashkir, who was locked up in the 
 store-room, and in a few moments the prisoner was 
 brought into the hall. The commandant directed that he 
 
 O 
 
 should be conducted to his presence. 
 
 The Bashkir had some difficulty in stepping over the 
 threshold (his feet were in stocks), and taking off his cap, 
 he stood at the door. Looking up at him, I started. 
 Never shall I forget that man. He appeared to be over 
 seventy. He had no nose nor ears. His head was shaven ; 
 a few gray hairs on his chin replaced a beard ; he was
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 65 
 
 short, thin, and bent ; but his narrow eyes sparkled like 
 fire. 
 
 " Ah ! ha !" said the commandant, having by these 
 dreadful indications recognized one of the rebels who had 
 been punished in 1741, "I see thou art an old wolf, 
 who hast already been taken in our traps. It is not the 
 first time thou playest the rebel, or thy head would not 
 be so well shaven. Come nearer; speak; who sent 
 thee T 
 
 The old Bashkir remained silent and looked at the 
 commandant with a vacant stare. 
 
 " Why dost thou not speak ?" continued Ivan Kouz- 
 mitch. "Dost thou not understand Kussian? Youlai', 
 ask him in your language, who sent him into our 
 fortress ?" 
 
 Youlai' repeated the question in Tartar. But the 
 Bashkir looked at him with the same expression, not 
 saying a word in reply. 
 
 " Tashee /"* said the commandant. " I shall make thee 
 speak. Take off' his fool's striped dressing-gown and pink 
 his back. Youlai, see that it is properly done." 
 
 Two invalids proceeded to strip the Bashkir. The un- 
 happy man's face assumed an expression of anxiety. He 
 looked about him like a poor little animal just caught by 
 children. But when one of the invalids seized his hands, 
 and putting them round his neck, lifted the old man on 
 to his shoulders, and Youlai took the lash and raised it 
 then the Bashkir groaned in a feeble supplicating tone., 
 
 * Tartar for good. Tr.
 
 6 HUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 and, shaking his head, he opened his mouth, where, instead 
 of his tongue, he moved a short stump. 
 
 When I call to mind that this has happened in my life- 
 time, and that I have lived to see the mild reign of the 
 Emperor Alexander, I cannot but marvel at the rapid 
 strides civilization has made, and at the diffusion of 
 humane measures. Young man ! should these pages fall 
 into your hands, bear in mind that the best and most 
 lasting reforms are those which emanate from the 
 amelioration of morals without violent commotions. 
 
 We were all painfully overcome. 
 
 " Well," said the commandant, " I see we are not to 
 expect anything from him ; Youlal', lead the Bashkir 
 back to the store-room. And we, gentlemen, have still 
 something to discuss." 
 
 We were beginning to consider our position, when 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna rushed into the room breathless 
 and agitated. 
 
 " What has happened ?" asked the astonished com- 
 mandant. 
 
 " My little father a calamity," answered Vassilissa 
 Yegorovna. " The fortress of Nijneozero has been taken 
 this morning. Father Gherassim's workman has just 
 returned from there. He saw them take it. The com- 
 mandant and all the officers have been hanged. All the 
 soldiers are made prisoners. The wretches will be here 
 before one has time to turn." 
 
 This unexpected intelligence impressed me forcibly. I 
 was acquainted with the commandant of the fortress of 
 Nijneozero, a quiet unassuming young man ; he had been
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 67 
 
 with us^two months previously on his way from Oren- 
 burg with his young wife, and had put up at the house 
 of Ivan Kouzmitch. The fortress of Nijneozero was 
 twenty-five versts distant from us. We might epect 
 Pougatcheff's attack hourly. I vividly pictured to my- 
 self the fate of Maria Ivanovna, and my heart sank 
 within me. 
 
 " Listen, Ivan Kouzmitch," said I to the commandant, 
 " it is our duty to defend the fortress to our last breath ; 
 nothing can be urged against this. But we must think 
 of the safety of the women. Send them to Orenburg if 
 the road is still free, or to a distant and safer fortress 
 where the wretches have not yet had time to penetrate." 
 
 Turning to his wife, Ivan Kouzmitch said : " See here, 
 my little mother, how would it do if you really went 
 away, until we have settled with the rebels ?" 
 
 " Oh, nonsense !" said the commandant's wife. " Where 
 is the fortress that is assured against bullets ? Why is 
 not Byelogorsk safe ? God be thanked, this is the 
 twenty-second year that we are in it. We have seen 
 Bashkirs and Khirghis ; we may overcome Pougatcheff as 
 well !" 
 
 " Well, my little mother," reiterated Ivan Kouzmitch, 
 " thou mayest stay on, if thou puttest so much trust in 
 our fortress. But what are we to do with Masha ? It 
 is well if we are victorious, or if we obtain relief in time ; 
 but if the wretches capture the fortress ?" 
 
 " Well, in that case " 
 
 Here Vassilissa Yegorovna became confused and stopped 
 short, greatly agitated. 
 
 52
 
 *> 
 
 68 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " No, Vassilissa Yegorovna," continued the command- 
 ant, noticing that, perhaps for the first time in his life,, 
 his words had taken effect, " it is not fit that Masha 
 should remain here. Let us send her to Orenburg to her 
 godmother; enough guns and troops there, besides its 
 stone walls. And I would advise thee also to go with 
 her ; although thou art an old woman, thou knowest not 
 what may befall thee if the fortress should be carried by 
 assault." 
 
 "Well," said the commandant's wife, "be it so. We 
 shall send Masha. As to myself, do not think of asking 
 me any more, for I shall not go. Why should I leave 
 thee in my old age, and seek a lonely grave in a distant 
 soil. We have lived together, we must die together." 
 
 " There is some sense in that," said the commandant. 
 " But let us not delay. Go and prepare Masha for the 
 journey. She shall leave at daylight to-morrow, and we 
 shall even give her an escort, though in truth we can ill 
 afford to spare our men. But where is Masha T 
 
 "With Akoulina Pamphylovna," answered his wife; 
 " she fainted when she heard that Nijne5zero had been 
 captured. I fear that she may get ill. Good God ! that 
 we should have come to this pass !" 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna went to prepare her daughter for 
 her departure. The conference at the commandant's 
 continued, but I no longer took a part in it, nor did I 
 pay any further attention to it. Maria Ivanovna came 
 to supper, looking pale, her face bearing traces of tears. 
 We supped in silence, and rose from table earlier than 
 usual ; having bid each other good-night, we separated.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 69 
 
 But I had purposely forgotten my sword, and returned 
 to fetch it; I had a presentiment that I should find 
 Maria Ivanovna alone. Indeed, she met me at the door, 
 and handed my sword to me. 
 
 " Good-bye, Piotr Andrevitch," said she, her eyes dim 
 with tears ; " I am sent away to Orenburg. May health 
 and happiness attend you ; perhaps, God willing, we 
 may meet again, but if not 
 
 Here she broke into sobs. I embraced her. 
 
 "Good-bye, my angel," said I, "good-bye, my dear 
 one. Happen what may to me, believe that my last 
 thought, my last prayer, will be for thee !" 
 
 Masha wept on my breast. I kissed her passionately, 
 and hurried out of the room. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE ASSAULT. 
 
 I DID not sleep that night, nor indeed did I take off my 
 clothes. It had been my intention to proceed at daylight 
 to the gate of the fortress, at which Maria Ivanovna was 
 to leave, and there bid her a last farewell. I felt that a 
 great change had come over me; the agitation of my 
 soul was far less painful to me than that depression, 
 which I had so recently experienced. An undefined but 
 sweet sensation, the impatient expectation of danger and 
 a noble ambition, were all mingled with my sorrow at 
 parting. The night passed away imperceptibly. I was
 
 70 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 already about to leave the house, when my door was 
 opened, and a corporal appeared, who reported that our 
 Cossacks had fled during the night, carrying away You- 
 lai by force, and that strange people were seen riding 
 around the fortress. The idea that Maria Ivanovna 
 would not have time to leave, filled me with dread ; I 
 hurriedly gave the corporal some directions and hastened 
 to the commandant's house. 
 
 It was already dawn. I was rapidly going down the 
 street when I heard my name called out. I stopped. 
 
 " Where are you going to ?" asked Ivan Ignatitch, 
 overtaking me ; " Ivan Kouzmitch is on the ramparts, 
 and has sent me for you. Pougatcli* is come." 
 
 " Is Maria Ivanovna gone ?" I asked, with heartfelt 
 trepidation. 
 
 " She has not had time," answered Ivan Ignatitch ; 
 "the road to Orenburg is cut off; the fortress is sur- 
 rounded. It is a bad business, Piotr Andrevitch !" 
 
 "We mounted the rampart, an eminence of natural for- 
 mation, and defended by a palisade. All the inhabitants 
 of the fortress had already assembled there. The garri- 
 son stood under arms. The gun had been removed 
 thither the previous day. The commandant was pacing 
 in front of his small force. The approach of danger 
 seemed to inspire the old warrior with extraordinary 
 bravery. About twenty horsemen were scattered over 
 the steppe within a short distance of the fortress. They 
 appeared to be Cossacks, but there were also some Bash- 
 
 * Fouyatch, s. a fright ; a play upon the name of Pougatcheff. 
 Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 71 
 
 kirs among them, who were easily distinguished by their 
 fur caps and quivers. The commandant walked round 
 the lines exhorting the soldiers : " Come, boys, let us stand 
 up for our mother empress to-day, and let us prove to 
 the world that we are a brave and loyal people !" 
 
 The soldiers demonstrated their zeal by loud shouts. 
 Shvabrine stood beside me, watching the enemy closely. 
 On becoming aware of the movement in the fortress, the 
 men we had seen on the steppe assembled in a cluster, 
 and consulted with each other. The commandant or- 
 dered Ivan Ignatitch to lay the gun at the enemy, and 
 himself applied the match. The ball whistled and flew 
 past them without occasioning any harm. The horse- 
 men separated and galloped out of sight, clearing the 
 steppe. 
 
 At that moment, Vassilissa Yegorovna appeared on the* 
 rampart, accompanied by Masha, who was unwilling to 
 quit her side. 
 
 " Well," asked the commandant's wife, " how does the 
 battle progress ? Where is the enemy ?" 
 
 " The enemy is not far off," answered Ivan Kouzmitch; 
 " please God all will be well. What, Masha, art thou 
 afraid ?" 
 
 " No, papa," replied Maria Ivanovna ; " I feel more 
 frightened sitting at home." 
 
 She looked at me and made an effort to smile. I in- 
 voluntarily grasped the hilt of my sword, remembering 
 that I had received it from her own hands the night be- 
 fore, as if for the protection of the one I loved best. My 
 heart burned within me ; I fancied myself her chosen
 
 72 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 knight. I longed to prove that I was worthy of her 
 trust, and impatiently awaited the decisive moment. 
 
 Fresh troops of horsemen now appeared from behind 
 an eminence half a verst off, and soon the steppe became 
 covered with people armed with spears and cross-bows. 
 Amongst them was a man in a red caftan, riding a white 
 horse, and holding a drawn sword ; it was Pougatchetf 
 himself. He halted, and was at once surrounded, when 
 four men, evidently carrying out his instruction, rode up 
 to the fortress at full speed. We recognized our deser- 
 ters. One held a sheet of paper high above his cap ; 
 another had Youla'i's head stuck on his lance, which he 
 threw at us over the palisade. The head of the poor 
 Kalmuck had rolled to the commandant's feet. The 
 traitors shouted : 
 
 " Do not fire ! surrender to the emperor ! The em- 
 peror is here !" 
 
 " I shall teach you !" cried Ivan Kouzmitch. " Boys, 
 fire !" 
 
 Our soldiers fired. The Cossack who held the letter 
 reeled and fell off his horse ; .the rest galloped back. I 
 looked at Maria Ivanovna. Horrified at the sight of 
 Youla'i's gory head, deafened by the discharge, she looked 
 lifeless. 
 
 The commandant summoned a corporal, and ordered 
 him to take the paper from the dead Cossack's hand. 
 The corporal went and returned leading the horse of the 
 fallen man by the bridle. He handed the letter to the 
 commandant; Ivan Kouzmitch tore it to pieces after 
 having silently read it. The rebels, however, were evi-
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 73 
 
 dently preparing for action. Bullets soon began to hiss 
 past our ears, and several arrows struck into the ground 
 and the palisade near us. 
 
 " Vassilissa Yegorovna," said the commandant, " this 
 is no place for women ; take Masha away ; thou seest 
 the girl is half dead !" 
 
 Vassilissa Yegorovna, who had become meek under 
 fire, cast a look at the steppe, on which a great move- 
 ment was noticeable ; then turning to her husband, she 
 said: 
 
 " Ivan Kouzmitch, life and death are in God's hands ; 
 bless Masha. Masha, come to thy father." 
 
 Masha, pale and trembling, approached Ivan Kouz- 
 mitch, knelt down before him, and bowed herself to the 
 earth. The old commandant made the sign of the cross 
 over her three times; he then raised and kissed her, 
 saying, in an altered voice : 
 
 " Be happy, Masha. Pray to God. He will not aban- 
 don thee. If thou should' st find a good man, may God 
 bless your attachment. Live together as thy mother and 
 I have lived. Well, good-bye, Masha ; Vassilissa Yegor- 
 ovna, lead her away quickly." 
 
 Masha threw herself on his neck, weeping. 
 
 " Kiss me also," said the commandant's wife, burst- 
 ing into tears; "good-bye, my own Ivan Kouzmitch. 
 Forgive me if ever I have displeased thee in any- 
 thing." 
 
 " Good-bye, good-bye, my little mother !" said the 
 commandant, embracing his old companion. " That will
 
 74 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 do ! Go home quickly, and if thou canst find time, dress 
 Masha in a sarafan."* 
 
 The commandant's wife and daughter left. I watched 
 the retreating Masha ; she looked round and nodded to 
 me. Ivan Kouzmitch now turned to us, and all his at- 
 tention became concentrated on the enemy. The rebels 
 gathered around their chief, and suddenly dismounted. 
 
 " Stand fast now," said the commandant, " they are 
 about to attack " 
 
 Dreadful shouts and shrieks followed ; the rebels were 
 running at the fortress. Our gun was loaded with grape. 
 The commandant allowed them to approach, and fired 
 again. The shot had taken effect in the midst of the 
 crowd. The rebels divided, and fell back a little. Their 
 leader alone remained in the front. He was waving his 
 sword, and appeared to be encouraging his men with 
 energy. The shouts and shrieks which had ceased for 
 but a moment, were renewed. 
 
 " Now then, boys," said the commandant, " open the 
 gates, beat the drum. Advance ! follow me !" 
 
 The commandant, Ivan Ignatitch, and I were in an 
 instant without the palisade ; but the terrified garrison 
 did not stir. 
 
 " Why do you stand there, boys ?" shouted Ivan Kouz- 
 mitch. "If we are to die, let us die. Our duty requires 
 it." 
 
 The rebels rushed at us, and invaded the fortress. The 
 drum ceased. The garrison dropped its arms. I was 
 
 * The costume of female peasants, in which the girl might be 
 disguised. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 75 
 
 knocked off my legs, but I rose to ray feet again, and 
 followed the rebels into the fortress. The commandant, 
 who was wounded in the head, was surrounded by the 
 wretches, who demanded the keys of him. I was about 
 to rush to his succour, but was seized by a few lusty 
 Cossacks, who bound my hands with their belts, saying : 
 
 " Stop a bit, you will catch it by-and-by, you traitors 
 to the emperor !" 
 
 We were dragged into the streets. The inhabitants 
 had come out of their houses, carrying bread and salt.* 
 The bells began to peal. A loud voice in the crowd an- 
 nounced that the emperor was awaiting the prisoners in 
 the square, prepared to receive their oaths of allegiance. 
 The mob rushed to the square ; we were also led thither. 
 
 Pougatcheff sat in an arm-chair in the porch of the 
 commandant's house. He wore a handsome Cossack ca/- 
 tan,-\ richly braided. The high sable hat, from which 
 hung a golden tassel, came down to his sparkling eyes. 
 I fancied I knew his face. He was surrounded by Cos- 
 sack chiefs. Near the porch, pale and trembling, cross in 
 hand, as if silently interceding on behalf of the victims 
 which were to be, stood Father Gherassim. A gibbet 
 was being hurriedly erected in the square. At our ap- 
 proach the Bashkirs quickly dispersed the crowd, and we 
 were led before Pougatcheff. The ringing of bells had 
 ceased ; deep silence reigned. 
 
 " Which is the commandant ?" asked the Pretender. 
 
 * A peace offering. Tr. 
 
 t A long coat, worn by the lower classes. Tr.
 
 76 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Our orderly stepped to the front, from the crowd, and 
 pointed to Ivan Kouzmitch. Pougatcheff looked sternly 
 at the old man, and said : 
 
 "How didst thou dare to oppose me; me, thy em- 
 peror ?" 
 
 The commandant, weakened by his wound, summoned 
 his failing strength, and replied in a firm voice : 
 
 " Thou art not my emperor ; thou art a robber and a 
 usurper, that is what thou art !" 
 
 Pougatcheff frowned gloomily, and waved a white 
 kerchief. Several Cossacks seized the old captain, and 
 dragged him to the gibbet. Astride the cross beam, was 
 the mulilated Bashkir, whom we had examined the pre- 
 vious day. He was holding the rope, and in another 
 minute I saw poor Ivan Kouzmitch dangling in the air. 
 Ivan Ignatitch was next led before Pougatcheff. 
 
 "Swear allegiance," said Pougatcheff, "to the em- 
 peror Piotr Feodorovitch !"* 
 
 " Thou art not our emperor," replied Ivan Ignatitch, 
 repeating his captain's words ; " thou, uncle, art a robber 
 and a usurper !" 
 
 Pougatcheff again waved the kerchief, and the kind- 
 hearted sub-lieutenant was hanged by the side of his old 
 chief. 
 
 My turn had come. I looked boldly at Pougatcheff, 
 prepared to repeat the answer given by my brave com- 
 
 * Peter, son of Feodor ; Peter III. was son of Anna, daughter 
 of Peter the Great, by Charles Frederick, Duke of Holstein-Got- 
 torp. The name of Frederick does not exist in the Russian calen- 
 der, and is substituted by Feodor (Theodore). Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN 'S DA U6HTER. 77 
 
 rades, when, to my indescribable astonishment, I saw 
 amongst the rebel heads Shvabrine, with his hair evenly 
 cut round, and wearing a Cossack caftan. He approached 
 Pougatcheff, and whispered a few words to him. 
 
 " Let him be hanged !" said Pougatcheff, without look- 
 ing at me. 
 
 A noose was thrown around my neck ; I silently re- 
 peated a prayer, bringing sincere repentance for all my 
 sins before God, and imploring the salvation of all dear 
 to me. I was hurried to the gibbet. 
 
 " Do not fear do not fear," repeated my executioners, 
 perhaps really seeking to encourage me. 
 
 Suddenly I heard a cry ; " Hold on, you cursed fellows \ 
 hold on !" 
 
 The executioners paused. I looked back. Savelitcb 
 lay at PougatchefPs feet. 
 
 " My father !" my poor servant was saying, " of what 
 use can the death of that gentleman's child be to thee ? 
 Let hi. a go ; thou canst obtain a ransom for him ; and, if 
 thou dost want to make an example, and inspire fear, 
 then let me, an old man, be hanged !" 
 
 Pougatchcff made a sign, my bonds were loosened, and 
 1 was set free. 
 
 " Our father pardons thee," was said to me. 
 
 I could not at that moment declare that I was over- 
 joyed at my deliverance, though I did not regret it. My 
 sensations were too confused. I was again conducted to 
 the Pretender, and made to kneel before him. Pougat- 
 cheff extended his veined hand towards me. 
 
 ' Kiss his hand kiss his hand !" everybody repeated.
 
 78 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 I should have preferred the most violent of deaths to 
 such abject humiliation. 
 
 " My little father, Piotr Andrevitch," whispered Save- 
 litch, who stood behind, nudging me, " do not be obsti- 
 nate ! What does it cost thee ? Spit, and kiss the 
 rob - (tfu !) Kiss his hand !" 
 
 I did not move. PougatchefF dropped his hand, saying, 
 with a sneer 
 
 " His lordship would appear to have become foolish 
 through joy. Raise him." 
 
 I was raised, and let go. I looked on at the continua- 
 tion of this horrible cruelty. 
 
 The inhabitants were being sworn in. They ap- 
 proached one by one, kissed the crucifix, and bowed 
 before the Pretender. The soldiers of the garrison fol- 
 lowed. The regimental tailor, armed with his blunt 
 scissors, cut off their queues. They gave their heads a 
 shake, kissed Pougatcheft's hand, who extended to them 
 his pardon, and enlisted them in his army. This con- 
 tinued for three hours. At last Pougatcheff rose and 
 left the porch, accompanied by his chiefs. A white horse, 
 richly caparisoned, was led to him. Two Cossacks seized 
 him under the arms and lifted him into the saddle. He 
 informed Father Gherassim that he would dine with him. 
 At that moment a woman's shriek was heard. Several 
 of the scoundrels had dragged Vassilissa Yegorovna, 
 dishevelled and almost stripped, into the porch. One 
 of them had already managed to put on himself her 
 dooshegreyka* Others were drawing after them feather- 
 
 * " Soul-warmer," a coat lined with fur, worn by females. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 79 
 
 beds, boxes, the tea-service, linen, and all sorts of 
 things. 
 
 " Oh, my little fathers !" cried the poor old' woman, 
 " have pity on me, my fathers ; let me go to Ivan Kouz- 
 mitch." She looked at the gibbet, and recognized her 
 husband. " Wretches S" she exclaimed, distracted, " what 
 have you done to him ? My light, my Ivan Kouzmitch, 
 brave soldier's heart ! The bayonets of the Prussians did 
 not touch thee, neither did the Turkish bullets ; thou 
 hast not laid down thy life in an honourable fight thou 
 hast perished at the hands of an escaped convict " 
 
 " Let the old witch be quieted !" said PougatchefF. 
 
 A young Cossack struck her on the head with his 
 sabre, and she fell dead on the house-steps. Pougatcheff 
 rode away, the crowd rushing after him. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE UNINVITED GUEST. 
 
 THE square became deserted. I remained on the same 
 spot, unable to collect my thoughts, disturbed as they had 
 been by such terrible events. The uncertainty of Maria 
 Ivanovna's fate tortured me most. Where was she ? 
 What had happened to her ? Had she had time to con- 
 ceal herself? Was her refuge a safe one ? Filled with 
 anxiety, I entered the commandant's house. It was 
 empty; chairs, tables, boxes, were all destroyed; the
 
 80 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 crockery lay broken ; everything was strewn about. I 
 ran up the little stair which led to Maria Ivanovna's 
 room, and entered it for the first time. I saw her bed, 
 which the villains had searched ; the cupboard had been 
 broken open and robbed of its contents. The lamp was 
 still burning before the empty kyoott* A little mirror 
 hanging on the wall had also remained uninjured. 
 Where was the mistress of the simple, virginal chamber ? 
 A fearful thought flashed across me : I fancied her in the 
 hands of the robbers. My heart ached. I burst into 
 bitter, bitter tears, and called aloud the name of my be- 
 loved one. I heard a slight noise, and Palashka, pale 
 and trembling, issued from behind the cupboard. 
 
 "Ah! Piotr Andre vitch !" said she, raising her arms. 
 " What a day ! what horrors " 
 
 " And Maria Ivanovna," I asked, impatiently ; " what 
 about Maria Ivanovna ?" 
 
 " The young lady is alive," answered Pal&shka. " She 
 is hiding at Akoulina Pamphylovna's." 
 
 " At the priost's house !" exclaimed I with terror. 
 " My God ! Pougatcheff is there." 
 
 I rushed out of the room, reached the street in an in- 
 stant, and hastened, regardless of everything, to the 
 priest's house. Noises, laughter, and songs issued from 
 it. Pougatcheff was feasting with his companions. 
 Palashka had followed me. I bid her send Akoulina 
 Pamphylovna to me secretly. In a few minutes the 
 
 * A glass case made to contain images, and thus becoming a 
 shrine. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 81 
 
 priest's wife came out to the lobby, with an empty bottle 
 in her hand. 
 
 " For God's sake where is Maria Ivanovna ?" I asked, 
 with indescribable agitation. 
 
 " My poor little dove is lying on my bed, behind the 
 partition," answered the priest's wife. " Ah ! Piotr An- 
 drevitch, we have had a narrow escape ; but, thank God, 
 all has gone off well : the wretch was just about to sit 
 down to dinner, when she, poor thing, coming to herself, 
 groaned. I felt a chill all over. He heard it. ' Who is 
 it moaning there, old woman ?' I. bowed down low before 
 the thief : ' My niece, sire, has been taken ill, and has 
 been laid up a fortnight.' ' And is thy niece young ?' 
 ' Yes, sire.' ' Then let me see thy niece, old woman/ 
 My heart leapt within me ; but what could I do ? ' Wel- 
 come, sire ; only the girl is not able to rise and come be- 
 fore your grace.' ' Never mind old woman ; I shall go 
 to her myself !' And he did g3 oehind the partition, the 
 d d rascal ! what dost thou think of that ? He drew 
 aside the curtain, looked in with his vulture's eyes and 
 that was all ! God was with us. Wilt thou believe me, 
 the Father and I were quite prepared to suffer a martyr's 
 death ? Fortunately, my little dove did not recognize 
 him. Oh ! Lord God, what a day we have lived to see ! 
 Poor Ivan Kouzmitch ! who would have believed it ! 
 And Vassilissa Yegorovna ! and Ivan Ignatitch ! what 
 had he done ? How is it that you escaped ? And what 
 do you say of Shvabrine ? He has had his hair cut, and 
 here he is now, feasting with them ! He has been sharp 
 about it, I must say. And when I happened to mention 
 
 6
 
 82 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 my sick niece, wilt thou believe it, he looked daggers at 
 me ? However, he did not betray me ; let us thank him 
 even for so much." 
 
 Drunken shouts and the voice of Father Gherassim 
 reached our ears. The guests were clamouring for wine, 
 the host was calling after his helpmate. The priest's wife 
 fidgeted. 
 
 " Go home, Piotr Andrevitch," said she. " I have no 
 time to think about you just now ; we must entertain the 
 wretches. Harm may befall you, if you get into their 
 drunken hands. Good-bye, Piotr Andrevitch ; what is 
 to be, will be. Let us hope that God will not forsake 
 us." 
 
 She left me. I returned home, my anxiety being 
 slightly relieved. Passing by the square, I saw several 
 Bashkirs gathered at the foot of the gallows, and drawing 
 the boots off the corpses that were hanging ; I restrained, 
 with difficulty, an outburst of indignation, feeling that 
 any interference on my part would have been useless. 
 The fortress was in the possession of the robbers, who 
 were plundering the officers' houses. In all directions 
 were heard the shouts of the tipsy rebels. I reached 
 home. Savelitch met me at the threshold. 
 
 "God be praised!" exclaimed he, on seeing me. "I 
 began to think that the wretches had again got hold of 
 thee. Well, my little father, Piotr Andrevitch ! Canst 
 thou believe it ! the rascals have plundered us of every- 
 thing clothes, linen, crockery nothing is left to us. 
 But that does not matter ! Thank God that they let thee
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 83 
 
 off' with thy life ! Well, sir, and hast thou recognized the 
 ataman ?"* 
 
 " No, I have not. Who is he ?" 
 
 " How, sir ? hast thou forgotten the drunkard who 
 coaxed the touloup out of thee at the inn ? The little 
 bran new hare-skin touloup ; and he, the beast, split it 
 by forcing himself into it !" 
 
 I was amazed. Indeed the resemblance between Pou- 
 gatcheff and my guide was startling. I became convinced 
 that Pougatcheff and he were the same persons, and was 
 now able to understand why I had been dealt with so 
 mercifully. I could not but marvel at the circumstances 
 so strongly linked together a boy's touloup, made a 
 present of to a vagabond, had saved me from the noose, 
 and a drunkard who had hung about wayside inns, was 
 now besieging fortresses, and shaking the empire ! 
 
 " Wilt thou take something to eat ?" asked Savelitch, 
 unchanged in his habits. " There is nothing at home. I 
 shall go out, and if I can find something, it shall be got 
 ready for thee." 
 
 Left alone, I gave myself up to reflection. What was 
 there for me to do ? To remain in a fortress that had 
 fallen into the power of the wretch, or to join his band, 
 was equally impossible for an officer. Duty bade me go 
 where I might still be of service to my country in the 
 present embarrassing circumstances. . . . But my attach- 
 ment urged me strenuously to stay near Maria Ivanovna 
 to be her protector and guardian. And although I fore- 
 
 * Cossack chieftain. Tr. 
 
 C 2
 
 84 KUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 saw a speedy and inevitable change in these circum- 
 stances, still, I could not rid myself of a feeling of alarm, 
 when I considered the danger of her situation. 
 
 My reflections were interrupted by the entrance of a 
 Cossack, who had come with the announcement that the 
 great emperor required me to appear before him. 
 
 " Where is he ?" I asked, preparing to obey. 
 
 " In the commandant's house," answered the Cossack. 
 " After dinner our father went to take a bath, and now, 
 he is having his rest. Well, your lordship, everything 
 proves that he is an important personage. At dinner he 
 deigned to eat up two roasted sucking pigs, and he bore 
 the hot steam so well, that even Tarass Kourotchkine 
 could not stand it, being obliged to give the birch broom 
 to Tomka BichbayefF, and only recovered from its effects 
 after having a quantity of cold water thrown over him. 
 It is impossible not to admit that all his ways are very 
 grand. And I was told that in the bath-room he showed 
 the marks of a Tzar on his breasts on one side he has 
 the two-headed eagle of the size of a pyalack* and on 
 the other he has the likeness of his own person." 
 
 I did not think it necessary to dispute the point with 
 the Cossack, so I followed him to the commandant's 
 house, endeavouring to imagine beforehand, my interview 
 with PougatchefF, and wondering how it would end. My 
 reader will easily understand that I did not feel perfectly 
 indifferent to its result. 
 
 It was getting dusk when I approached the command- 
 
 * Five copeck piece. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 85 
 
 ant's house. The gibbet with its victims loomed hideously 
 in the dark. The body of the poor captain's wife was 
 still lying in the porch, in front of which two Cossacks 
 stood on sentry. The Cossack by whom I had been 
 escorted went to announce me, and returning immediately, 
 conducted me into the room, where, on the previous 
 day, I had taken such an affectionate leave of Maria 
 Ivanovna. 
 
 A strange spectacle presented itself. Pougatcheff and 
 the Cossack chiefs in coloured shirts and caps, their red 
 faces heated by wine, their eyes glittering, sat at a table, 
 which was covered with a cloth, and laden with bottles 
 and tumblers. Shvabrine and our orderly, those newly- 
 sworn traitors, were not of the number. 
 
 " Ah ! your lordship !" said Pougatcheflf, on seeing me- 
 " You are welcome ; honour and place* to you." 
 
 The guests made room for me. I took my seat in 
 silence at the end of the table. My neighbour, a young* 
 Cossack, slight and handsome, poured me out a glass of 
 wine ; which, however, I did not touch. I scanned the 
 assembly with curiosity. Pougatcheff sat at the post of 
 honour, leaning on the table, and supporting his black 
 bearded chin with his broad fist. His regular and almost 
 agreeable features had nothing of cruelty about them. 
 He frequently turned towards a man of about fifty, now 
 addressing him as count, then Tymofeitch, and sometimes 
 uncle. Everybody seemed to treat his neighbour as a 
 comrade, and none showed any special respect to their 
 leader. They conversed on the assault of that morning, 
 of the success of the rebellion, and of their future plans of
 
 86 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 action. Each boasted of his own doings, offered his 
 opinion, and freely contradicted PougatchefF. And it was 
 at this extraordinary council of war, that it was decided 
 to attack Orenburg a bold move, which was very nearly 
 being crowned by a fatal success ! The march was fixed 
 for the morrow. 
 
 " Well, boys !" said Pougatcheff, " let us sing before we 
 retire for the night, my favourite song. Tchoumakoft', 
 "begin !" 
 
 My neighbour began the sorrowful song in a small 
 shrill voice, the rest joining in the chorus 
 
 " Do not murmur green wood, my mother ! 
 Do not hinder me from thinking my thoughts. 
 To-morrow, I must hie me to judgment 
 Before a fierce judge, before the Tzar himself. 
 
 " The Lord Tzar will ask of me ; 
 ' Tell me, tell me, thou child, thou peasant's son, 
 With whom hast thou thieved, with whom hast thou robbed. 
 Hast thou many associates V 
 'I shall tell thee, my hope, my Orthodox Tzar, 
 The whole truth shall I tell thee the whole verity, 
 That I have but four associates. 
 That my first associate, is the dark night, 
 That my second associate, the steel blade, 
 And my third associate, my good steed, 
 And my fourth associate, my mighty bow ; 
 That my messengers are red hot arrows/ 
 What will my hope, the Orthodox Tzar say ! 
 ' Well done ! thou child, thou peasant's son ; 
 Thou hast known how to steal, thou hast known how to reply. 
 I shall make thee a gift, child, 
 Of a lofty palace in the midst of the field 
 A palace of two posts, and a cross beam.' "
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 87 
 
 It is scarcely possible to convey an idea of the im- 
 pression produced upon me by this popular song, with 
 the gallows for its subject, sung as it was by people 
 destined for them. Their ferocious looks, their ringing 
 voices, the dismal tone in which these sufficiently ex- 
 pressive words were sounded, all filled me with a sort of 
 undefined terror. 
 
 The revellers drained another glass, and then rose and 
 took leave of PougatchefF. I was about to follow out 
 after them, but PougatchefF said 
 
 " Stay, I have to speak to thee." 
 
 We remained alone. We were silent for some minutes. 
 PougatchefF watched me, now and then closing his left 
 eye with an extraordinary expression of roguery and 
 derision. At last he burst into such a genuine merry 
 laugh, that, as I looked at him, I also laughed, without 
 knowing why. 
 
 " Well, your lordship !" said he, " thou wast frightened 
 admit it, when my boys threw the rope round thy 
 neck ? I suppose the sky must have appeared to thee of 
 the size of a sheepskin. . . . And thou would'st have 
 swung from the cross-beam, had it not been for thy 
 servant. I recognized the old owl immediately. Well, 
 sir, could'st thou have supposed that the man who guided 
 thee to the inn, was the great emperor himself?" (here he 
 assumed an important and mysterious air). " Thou art 
 very guilty towards me," he continued ; " but I showed 
 thee mercy for thy good deed, for thou didst me a service 
 at a time when I was forced to hide myself from my 
 enemies. But this is not all ! I shall show thee greater
 
 88 RUSSIAN ROMANCE.^ 
 
 favour when I recover my empire. Dost thou promise to 
 serve me zealously ?" 
 
 The rogue's question and his impudence appeared to 
 me so amusing, that I could not repress a smile. 
 
 "What 'art thou laughing at?" asked he, frowning. 
 "Or is it thou dost not believe that I am the great 
 emperor ? Answer me frankly." 
 
 I was perplexed. I could not acknowledge the vaga- 
 bond as being the emperor; it would have been un- 
 pardonable cowardice. To call him an imposter to his 
 face, would have been to expose myself to destruction, 
 and to utter what I had been prepared to say at the first 
 outburst of indignation in sight of the gallows, and in the 
 presence of the multitude, would have amounted to vain 
 bragging. I hesitated. Pougatcheff awaited my reply 
 in stern silence. At last (and I think of that moment 
 with self-satisfaction to this day), a sense of duty 
 triumphed over human weakness. I said to Pougat- 
 cheff 
 
 " Listen ! Shall I tell thee the whole truth ? Just re- 
 flect whether it is possible for me to acknowledge thee as 
 the emperor. Thou art a reasonable being ; thou thyself 
 would'st know that I was shamming." 
 
 " Who am I then, according to thy opinion ?" 
 
 " God knows ; but whoever thou mayest be, thou 
 playest a dangerous game." 
 
 Pougatcheff threw a quick glance at me. 
 
 "Then thou dost not believe," said he, "that I am the 
 Emperor Piotr Feodorovitch? Very well ! But is there
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTEU. 89 
 
 no success for the daring 1 Did not Grishka Otrepieff* 
 reign in days gone by ? Think what thou pleasest of me, 
 but do not leave me. What does it matter to thee ? 
 Who is not a priest is a father. Serve me ' in faith and 
 in truth' and I shall make thee a field-marshal and prince. 
 What dost thou think of this ?" 
 
 *' No," I answered, firmly. " I am a nobleman by birth. 
 I swore to serve the empress ; I cannot serve thee. If 
 thou really wishest me well, permit me to go to Oren- 
 burg." 
 
 Pougatcheff reflected. 
 
 " And if I do let thee go," said he, " dost thou at least 
 promise not to take up arms against me." 
 
 " How can I promise thee so much ?" I replied. " Thou 
 thyself knowest that it cannot be as I wish. If I receive 
 orders to march against thee, I must do so ; I cannot help 
 myself. Thou art now a chief thyself ; thou exactcst 
 obedience of thy people. What would it look like, should 
 I refuse to serve when called upon to do so ? My life is 
 in thy hands ; if thou lettest me free, thou shalt have my 
 thanks ; if thou executest me, God is thy judge ; as to 
 myself, I have told thee the truth." 
 
 Pougatcheff was struck by my sincerity. 
 
 " Be it so," he said, slapping me on the shoulder; " one 
 must either execute or fully pardon. Go the four 
 
 * Gregory Otrepieff, a runaway monk of Ischondoff, was the 
 first of the impostors who personated Dmitri V., son of John the 
 Terrible, put to death in his infancy by Boris Godounoff, 1591. 
 Supported by Sigismund II., King of Poland, he overthrew Boris, 
 and reigned at Moscow in 1605. His marriage to a Pole and a 
 Catholic, led to his massacre by the multitude in 1606. Tr.
 
 -90 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 quarters are open to thee, and do as seemeth thee best. 
 Come and bid me good-bye to-morrow, and now get thee 
 to bed, for sleep also oppresses me." 
 
 I left Pougateheff and emerged into the street. The 
 night was still and frosty. The moon and stars shone 
 brightly, illuminating the square and the gallows. All 
 was quiet and dark within the fortress. In the public- 
 house only were there lights, whence issued the shouts of 
 lingering idlers. I looked up at the priest's house. The 
 shutters were closed, everything appeared quiet there. 
 
 Entering my lodging, I found Savelitch bewailing my 
 absence. The news of my having been set at liberty, 
 rejoiced him greatly. 
 
 " God be praised !" said he, crossing himself. " We 
 must leave the fortress as soon as it is day, and follow 
 whither luck leads us. I have prepared some food for 
 thee, my little father ; thou must then go to bed and sleep 
 till morning, safe as in Christ's bosom." 
 
 I followed his advice, and, having supped heartily, 
 fell asleep on the naked floor, worn out morally and 
 physically. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SEPARATION. 
 
 I WAS awakened at an early hour by the beat of the 
 drum. I proceeded to the place of assembly. Pougat- 
 cheff's mob was already mustering in the vicinity of the
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 91 
 
 gallows, from which yesterday's victims were still sus- 
 pended. The Cossacks were on horseback, the foot 
 soldiers under arms. The standards were unfurled. 
 Several guns, among which I noticed our own, had been 
 mounted on field carriages. The inhabitants had also 
 assembled in expectation of the Pretender. At the porch 
 of the commandant's house stood a Cossack, holding a 
 beautiful white horse of the Khirghis breed by the bridle. 
 I looked for the body of the commandant's wife. It 
 had been moved a little on one side, and covered with a 
 piece of matting. Pougatcheff appeared. The crowd 
 uncovered. Pougatcheff stopped in the doorway and 
 saluted it. One of the chiefs handed to him a bagful of 
 coppers, which he scattered in handfuls. The people 
 rushed in a noisy scuffle to pick them up. Pougatcheff 
 was surrounded by his principal accomplices. Shvabrine 
 was one of the number. Our eyes met ; he probably read 
 contempt in mine, for he turned away with a look of 
 genuine malice, and feigned derision. Perceiving me in 
 the crowd, Pougatcheff nodded his head, and beckoned me 
 to come to him. 
 
 " Listen," said he ; " go at once to Orenburg, and tell 
 the governor and all the generals that they are to expect 
 me in a week. Recommend them to welcome me with 
 childlike love and obedience ; otherwise, they shall not 
 escape a cruel death. A happy journey to you, your 
 lordship !" Turning to the people, and pointing to Shva- 
 brine, he said : " Here, my children, is your new com- 
 mander. Obey him always ; he is responsible for you 
 and for the fortress."
 
 92 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 I heard these words with horror. Once in command of 
 the fortress, Maria Ivanovna was in his power ! My God ! 
 what would become of her ? Pougatcheff descended the 
 steps. The horse was led to him. He flung himself 
 quickly into the saddle, before the Cossacks who were in 
 attendance had time to assist him. 
 
 Of a sudden, my Savelitch stepped out of the crowd, 
 approached Pougatcheff, and handed to him a sheet of 
 paper. I could not conceive what it was all about. 
 
 " What is this 1" asked Pougatcheff, with dignity. 
 
 " If thou wilt but read, thou shalt know," replied 
 Savelitch. 
 
 Pougatcheff took the paper and examined it for a long 
 time, with a significant air. 
 
 " Why dost thou write so elaborately ?" he inquired at 
 last. " Our bright eyes are able to decipher nothing of 
 this.* Where is my chief secretary ?" 
 
 A young man, in a corporal's uniform, was quickly at 
 Pougatcheff s side. " Read aloud," said the Pretender, 
 giving him the paper. I felt very curious to know what 
 my servant had found to write to Pougatcheff about. 
 The chief secretary spelled out in a stentorian voice, the 
 following : 
 
 " ' Two dressing gowns, one of cotton, the other of 
 striped silk ; value six roubles.' " 
 
 " What does this mean ?" said Pougatcheff, frownmg. 
 
 " Order him to read on," replied Savelitch, quietly. 
 
 The chief secretary proceeded : 
 
 * II ne salt ni lire, ni ecrire, mats cest un homme extreniement 
 Tiardi et determine. Catherine II. to Voltaire, 22 October, 1774. 

 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 93 
 
 " ' A uniform coat of fine green cloth, value 7 roubles. 
 " ' White cloth trousers . . ,,5 roubles. 
 
 " 'Twelve shirts of Dutch linen, with ruffles, 10 roubles. 
 " ' A case containing a tea service 2i roubles.' " 
 
 " What rubbish !" interrupted Pougatcheff. " What 
 do I care about tea cases and trousers with ruffles !" 
 
 Savelitch cleared his throat, and proceeded to ex- 
 plain. 
 
 " Deign to understand, my little father, that it is an 
 inventory of the gentleman's property, stolen by the 
 wretches . . ." 
 
 " What wretches ?" said Pougatcheff, angrily. 
 " I beg 'your pardon, a slip of the tongue," replied 
 Savelitch. " The wretches are not wretches ; but thy 
 boys have, for all that, rummaged and plundered. Do 
 not get angry : a horse has four legs, and yet he stumbles. 
 Now order him to read on." 
 
 " Read to the end," said Pougatcheff. 
 The secretary continued : 
 
 "'One cotton counterpane, another of wadded silk, 
 value 4 roubles. 
 
 " ' A fox fur pelisse, covered with red ratteen, value 40 
 roubles. 
 
 " ' Also, a hare-skin touloup, given to thy grace at the 
 wayside inn, value 15 roubles.'" 
 
 "WTiat is that?" exclaimed Pougatcheff, with fire in 
 his eyes. 
 
 I felt alarmed for the safety of my poor servant. He 
 was about to resume his explanations, but Pougatcheff 
 interrupted him.
 
 &l RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " How dost thou dare to come to me with such rubbish 
 as this !" he exclaimed, tearing the paper out of the 
 secretary's hands, and throwing it in Savelitch's face. 
 " Stupid old man ! you have been plundered what a 
 great misfortune ! Know, old owl, that you must pray 
 to God unceasingly for me and my boys, for that thou 
 and thy master are not hanging up there by the side of 
 the rebels. . . Hare touloup ! dost thou not know 
 that I might have thee skinned alive, to make touloups of ?" 
 
 " As thou pleasest," answered Savelitch ; " but I am 
 not a free man, and must give an account of my master's 
 property." 
 
 Pougatcheff was evidently in a generous mood. He 
 turned and rode away, without adding another word. 
 Shvabrine and the chiefs followed him. The forces left 
 the fortress in military order. The crowd rushed out to 
 escort Pougatcheff. I and Savelitch only remained in 
 the square. He was holding his inventory, which he 
 looked at regretfully. 
 
 Sensible of the good understanding existing between 
 Pougatcheff and myself, he thought of turning it to 
 advantage ; but his ingenuity was ill rewarded. I was 
 about to scold him for his misplaced zeal, but had some 
 difficulty in suppressing my laughter. 
 
 "Laugh, sir," said Savelitch, "laugh; we shall see 
 whether it is a laughing matter when we have to provide 
 a new outfit." 
 
 I hurried away to the priest's house, to see Maria 
 Ivanovna. The priest's wife met me with a sad announce- 
 ment. Maria Ivanovna had been attacked during the 

 
 THE CAPTAIN 'S DA UGHTER. 95 
 
 night with a violent fever. She lay unconscious and 
 delirious. Conducted to her room, I gently approached 
 her bed. I was alarmed at her altered appearance. She 
 did not recognize me ! I stood and looked at her for a 
 long time, regardless of Father Gherassim and of his 
 good-natured wife, both of whom endeavoured to comfort 
 me. I was agitated by gloomy thoughts. The condition 
 of the poor, unprotected orphan, in the midst of lawless 
 rebels, and my own helplessness in her behalf, terrified 
 me. But Shvabrine, Shvabrine it was that most 
 tormented me. Invested with authority by the Pre- 
 tender, in command of the fortress where the unhappy 
 girl, the innocent object of his hatred, would be left he 
 was capable of doing anything. Of what avail was I ? 
 What assistance could I render ? How was I to free her 
 from the villain's power? There was but one way; I 
 decided upon going to Orenburg immediately, with the 
 object of hastening and co-operating in the recovery of the 
 fortress of BySlogorsk. I bid the priest and Akoulina 
 Pamphylovna farewell, eagerly entrusting to their charge, 
 her whom I already looked upon as my wife. I 
 seized the poor girl's hand, my tears flowing fast as I 
 kissed it. 
 
 " Good-bye," said the priest's wife, accompanying me to- 
 the door, ' ' good-bye, Piotr Andrevitch. We must hope to 
 meet in better times. Do not forget us, and mind you 
 write often. Poor Maria Ivanovna has no one left now 
 but yourself to protect her." 
 
 Keturning to the square, I stopped an instant to look 
 up at the gibbet, and inclined my head before it, then
 
 96 HUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 leaving the fortress, took the Orenburg road, accompanied 
 by Savelitch. 
 
 I was walking on in deep meditation, when suddenly I 
 heard behind me the tramping of a horse. I looked back 
 A Cossack, galloping out of the fortress, and leading a 
 Bashkir horse, was making signs to me. I awaited him, 
 and soon recognized our orderly. Riding up to me, he 
 dismounted, and handing over the bridle of the other 
 horse, he said : 
 
 " Your lordship ! our father makes you a present of a 
 horse, and of a pelisse off his own back " (a sheepskin 
 
 touloup was secured to the saddle), " also " 
 
 muttered hesitatingly the orderly, " he also sends you 
 
 . . . half a rouble, .... but I have lost it 
 on the way : I entreat that you will generously forgive me." 
 
 Savelitch looked askance at him, and murmured : 
 
 " Lost on the way ! And what is it that jingles in thy 
 breast ? thou shameless fellow !" 
 
 " What jingles in my breast ?" said the orderly, not in 
 the least abashed : " God be with thee, little old man ! 
 It is the bridle that jingles, and not the half rouble." 
 
 " Very well," I said, interrupting the altercation ; 
 " thank him who sent thee, in my name ; try to find the 
 lost money on thy way back, and keep it for a vodka." 
 
 "Much obliged to you, your lordship," he answered, 
 turning his horse's head : " I shall ever pray to God 
 for you." 
 
 So saying, he galloped back, keeping one hand inside 
 Ms breast, and in a few minutes was out of sight. 

 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 97 
 
 I put on the touloup, and mounted the horse, Savelitch 
 getting up behind. 
 
 " There, sir," said the old man, " dost thou not see that 
 I have not uselessly bowed down before the rascal ? 
 Thief though he be, he has felt somewhat ashamed, 
 although this huge Bashkir nag and the sheepskin 
 touloup are not worth one half of what the vagabonds 
 have stolen, and what thou thyself hadst given him ; 
 and yet they may prove of service, even a few hairs off a 
 vicious dog !" 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SIEGE. 
 
 As we approached Orenburg, we passed a crowd of con- 
 victs with shaven heads, and faces disfigured by the 
 tongs of the executioner. They were at work on the 
 fortifications, under an escort of garrison invalids. Some 
 were employed carting away the rubbish which filled the 
 ditch, others, with spades, digging the earth ; on the 
 ramparts were masons carrying bricks and repairing the 
 walls. We were stopped by the sentries at the gate, who 
 demanded our passports. Upon hearing that I had come 
 from the fortress of Byelogorsk, the sergeant conducted 
 me straight to the general's residence. 
 
 I found him in the garden. He was examining the 
 apple-trees which had been ripped by the blasts of 
 autumn, and, assisted by his gardener, was carefully 
 enveloping them in straw. His countenance was serene, 
 
 7
 
 98 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 good-natured, and healthy. He was delighted to see me, 
 and proceeded to make inquiries respecting the lament- 
 able events of which I had been a witness. I related all 
 to him. The old man listened with attention, removin^ 
 
 * O 
 
 meanwhile the dead branches. 
 
 "Poor Mironoff!" said he, when I had ended niy sad 
 recital ; " what a pity ! He was a good officer, and 
 Madame Mironoff was a good lady, and so clever at 
 salting mushrooms! And what about Masha, the 
 captain's little daughter ?" 
 
 I replied that she remained at the fortress in charge of 
 the priest's wife. 
 
 " Ay, ay, ay !" observed the general, " that's bad, very 
 bad. One cannot possibly rely on the discipline of the 
 robbers. What will become of the poor girl ?" 
 
 I replied that Byelogorsk, being at no great distance, 
 his excellency would probably not delay in sending 
 troops for the relief of its poor inhabitants. 
 
 The general shook his head, doubtfully ; " We shall 
 see, we shall see," said he. " We shall have time enough 
 to talk it over. I beg you will do me the favour to come 
 and take a cup of tea. I hold a council of war to-day. 
 You will be able to give us correct information about the 
 miscreant Pougatcheff and his army. In the meantime, 
 go and rest." 
 
 I repaired to the rooms assigned to me, where I found 
 Savelitch already engaged putting things in order, and I 
 impatiently awaited the appointed time. The reader will 
 easily understand that I did not fail to appear at the 
 council which was to have such an influence on my
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 90 
 
 future career. I proceeded to the general's, at the hour 
 fixed. There I found one of the civil authorities of the 
 town, if I remember aright, the Director of Customs, a 
 stout, red-faced, little old man, in a watered silk caftan. 
 He questioned me regarding the fate of Ivan Kouzmitch, 
 whom he called his koivm, and frequently interrupted me 
 with extraneous questions, and moral reflections, which 
 if they did not prove him to be a man versed in military 
 matters, at least evinced his natural intellect and sagacity. 
 The other members soon assembled. After having token 
 our places, and the tea having been handed round, the 
 general laid before us very distinctly, and in detail, the 
 state of affairs. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," he continued, " we must decide our 
 course of action towards the rebels : the defensive or the 
 offensive ? Both modes have their advantages and dis- 
 advantages. To act on the offensive offers greater chances 
 for the speedy destruction of the enemy ; to remain on 
 
 the defensive is surer and safer Therefore, let 
 
 us put it to the vote in legal order, that is to say, begin- 
 ning with the juniors. Ensign!" he continued, turning 
 t^ me, " pray give us your opinion," 
 
 I rose, and after having in a few words described 
 Pougatcheff and his band, confidently affirmed that 
 the Pretender had no means of withstanding regular 
 
 O O 
 
 forces. 
 
 My opinion was received by the members with evident 
 dissatisfaction. In their judgment it was the rash and 
 impertinent notion of a young man. In the muttering 
 which ensued, I distinctly overheard the word "green-
 
 100 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 horn " pronounced in a whisper. The general turned to- 
 me, and said with a smile, 
 
 " Ensign ! the first votes at councils of war are usually 
 given in favour of offensive measures : that is the usual 
 procedure. Let us now continue to collect other votes. 
 Kallejsky Savetnik* tell us your opinion." 
 
 The little old man in the watered silk caftan quickly 
 emptied his third cup of tea, mixed with a fair proportion 
 of rum, and replied : 
 
 "My opinion, your excellency, is, that we must act 
 neither defensively nor offensively." 
 
 "How is that, Kallejsky Savetnik?" reiterated the 
 astonished general. "Military tactics offer no alternative ; 
 action must be either defensive or offensive . . . ." 
 
 " Your excellency ! try subornation." 
 
 " Eh ! Eh ! your opinion is a very reasonable one 
 Subornation is allowable in military tactics, and we may 
 take advantage of your advice. We shall be able to offer 
 for the miscreant's head .... seventy, or even 
 one hundred roubles, .... from the secret 
 fund . . . ." 
 
 " And," interrupted the Director of Customs, " may I, 
 in that case, be a Khirghis ram, and not a Kallejskij 
 Savetnik, if those robbers do not deliver up to us their 
 leader, bound hand and foot ?" 
 
 "We must reflect and talk it over," answered the 
 general ; " in any case, however, we must adopt military 
 measures. Gentlemen, give your votes in legal order." 
 
 Every opinion was opposed to mine. All the officials 
 
 * Conseiller de College. An employ^ of the sixth class. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 101 
 
 urged the little reliance to be placed in the troops, the 
 uncertainty of success, and the necessity for prudence, 
 and the like. All concurred in its being more reasonable 
 to remain under cover of guns inside strong stone walls, 
 than to try the fortune of war on the open field. Having 
 heard every opinion to the end, the general shook the 
 ashes from his pipe, and pronounced the following 
 speech : 
 
 " Gentlemen ! I 'must declare to you, that so far as I 
 am concerned, I am quite of the ensign's opinion ; for 
 that opinion is founded on all the rules of wholesome 
 tactics, which invariably give the preference to offensive 
 over defensive action." 
 
 Here he stopped, and proceeded to fill his pipe. I felt 
 triumphant in my vanity. I looked proudly at the 
 officials, who whispered to each other, and looked dis- 
 pleased and anxious. 
 
 " But, gentlemen," he continued, emitting a thick cloud 
 of tobacco smoke with a deep sigh, " I dare not take upon 
 myself so great a responsibility, considering that the 
 safety of the province intrusted to me by her imperial 
 majesty, my gracious sovereign, is at stake. I therefore 
 cede to the majority, which has decided that it is more 
 prudent and safer to await the siege within the city walls, 
 and to repel the attacks of the enemy by the force of 
 artillery, and (if it be possible) to discomfit them also by 
 sorties." 
 
 It was now the turn of the officials to look ironically at 
 me. The council ended, I could not help lamenting the 
 weakness of the worthy warrior, who, in spite of his owa
 
 10-2 lil'SSIAX ROMANCE. 
 
 convictions, allowed himself to be influenced by they 
 opinions of ignorant and inexperienced men. 
 
 A few days after this remarkable council had been 
 held, we received intelligence that Pougatcheff, true to 
 his word, was approaching Orenburg. I espied the rebel 
 army from the city walls. Its number seemed to have 
 increased tenfold since the last assault, which I had 
 witnessed. The enemy also had the pieces of artillery, 
 which Pougatcheff had captured from the small fortresses 
 he had subdued. Bearing in mind the decision of the 
 council, I foresaw a long confinement within the walls of 
 Orenburg, and almost cried with vexation. 
 
 I shall not describe the siege of Orenburg, which 
 belongs to history, and not to notes of a private nature. 
 I shall briefly observe that this siege, owing to the 
 imprudence of the local authorities, became fatal to the 
 inhabitants, who suffered hunger and every misery 
 imaginable. It will be readily understood that life at 
 Orenburg became most unbearable. Everybody sorrow- 
 fully awaited the decision of his destiny ; lamentations 
 were universal by reason of the dearth, which was- really 
 terrible. The people were beginning to get accustomed 
 to the shells, which flew into their court-yards ; even the 
 assaults of Pougatcheff ceased to attract general attention. 
 I felt bored to death. Time sped on, I received no letter 
 from the fortress of Byelogorsk. All the roads were cut 
 off. My separation from Maria Ivanovna was becoming 
 unendurable. My only recreation consisted in warlike 
 sallies. Thanks to Pougatcheff, I had a good horse with 
 which I shared my scant portion of food, and on which I
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 103 
 
 rode out daily to exchange a few shots with Pougatcheff s 
 archers. The advantage in these encounters remained 
 generally with the wretches who were tipsy, well fed, 
 and well mounted. Our miserable cavalry could not 
 withstand them. Our famished infantry would oc- 
 casionally go out, but the deep snow impeded their 
 movements, and rendered their evolutions against the 
 scattered horsemen ineffectual. The artillery on. the 
 ramparts thundered in vain, and when on the field, it 
 was unable to advance, owing to the extenuated con- 
 dition of the horses. This was our mode of action. And 
 this was what the Orenburg officials termed prudence 
 and sound judgment. 
 
 Having upon one occasion succeeded in dispersing a 
 goodly mass of the enemy, I rode up to a Cossack who 
 had remained behind, and was about to cut him down 
 with my Turkish sabre, when he suddenly took off his 
 cap, and shouted, 
 . " Good-day, Piotr Andrevitch ; how do you do ?" 
 
 I looked at him, and recognized our orderly. I felt 
 unspeakably rejoiced to see him. 
 
 " Good-day, Maksymitch," said I ; " how long is it 
 since thou hast left Byelogorsk ?" 
 
 " Not long, Piotr Andrevitch, I returned only yesterday. 
 I have a letter for you." 
 
 "Where is it ?" I exclaimed, agitated. 
 
 "I have it here," replied Maksymitch, putting his hand 
 in his bosom. " I promised Palashka that I should let 
 you have it somehow." 
 
 He handed to me a folded paper, and instantly galloped
 
 104 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 away. I opened it, and read with trepidation the 
 following lines : 
 
 "It has pleased God to deprive me suddenly of my 
 father and mother : I have no relations nor any protectors 
 on earth. I have recourse to you, knowing that you 
 have always been my well-wisher, and that you are 
 prepared to assist everybody. I pray to God that this 
 letter may reach you. Maksymitch has promised to 
 deliver it to you. Palashka has heard from Maksymitch 
 that he often sees you at a distance in the sorties, and 
 that you do not take the least care of yourself, and do 
 not think of those who pray with tears for you. I was 
 ill a long time ; and when I got well, Aleksey Ivanovitch, 
 who commands here instead of my late father, forced 
 Father Gherassim to deliver me to him, threatening him 
 with Pougatcheff's displeasure. I live in our own house 
 a prisoner. Aleksey Ivanovitch wants to force me to 
 marry him. He says he saved my life by keeping up 
 Akoulina Pamphylovna's deception, who told the wretches 
 that I was her neice. But I would rather die than be- 
 come the wife of such a man as Aleksey Ivanovitch. He 
 treats me very cruelly, and threatens, should I not change 
 my mind and consent, to take me into the wretches' 
 camp, where, he says, the fate of Elisaveta Harloff awaits 
 me. I have begged of Alekse}^ Ivanovitch to give me 
 time to think over it, and he has consented to wait three 
 days longer ; but if I do not marry him at the end of the 
 three days, I am to expect no pity. My little father, 
 Piotr Ardrevitch, you are my only protector; save me, 
 poor girl. Entreat the general and all the chiefs to lead
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 105 
 
 help to us as soon as possible, and come yourself, if you 
 can. I remain your devoted and poor orphan, 
 
 "MARIA MlRONOFF." 
 
 I almost lost my senses on reading this letter. I rode off 
 into the town, spurring my poor horse unmercifully. On 
 the way I thought of one plan and then of another, for the 
 liberation of the unhappy girl, without being able to come 
 to any decision. Reaching the town, I went straight to 
 the general's, and rushed into his room. 
 
 The general was pacing it to and fro, smoking his 
 meerschaum pipe. He stopped on seeing me. He was 
 probably startled at my appearance, for he asked, with 
 concern, the object of my "over-hasty visit. 
 
 " Your excellency," I said, " I come to you, as I would 
 to my own father ; for God's sake do not reject my suppli- 
 cation : my life-long happiness is at stake." 
 
 " What is it ?" asked the old man, astonished. " What 
 can I do for thee ? Speak !" 
 
 " Your excellency ! order me to take a battalion of 
 troops and fifty Cossacks, and let me clear out the fortress 
 of Byelogorsk." 
 
 The general looked fixedly at me, thinking probably 
 that I had lost my reason (in which he was not entirely 
 mistaken). 
 
 "What do you say ? clear out the fortress of Byelogorsk ?" 
 said he, at last. 
 
 "I answer for success," I continued, with warmth; 
 " only let me go." 
 
 " No, young man," said he, shaking his head ; " at so 
 great a distance the enemy might easily cut you off from
 
 106 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 communication with the chief strategical point, and 
 obtain a complete victory over you. The intercepted 
 communications . . . ." 
 
 I became alarmed when I perceived that he was about 
 to enter into deliberations of a military character, and 
 hastened to interrupt him. 
 
 " The daughter of Captain Mironoff," said I, " writes a 
 letter to rne ; she asks for help ; Shvabrine forces her to 
 marry him." 
 
 " Indeed ! Oh ! that Shvabrine is a great rascal, and 
 if he falls into my hands, I shall order him to be tried 
 within twenty-four hours, and he will be shot on the 
 rampart of the fortress ! but, until then, we must have 
 patience . . . ." 
 
 " Have patience !" I exclaimed, beside myself; "and in 
 the meanwhile he will marry Maria Ivanovna !" 
 
 " Oh !" reiterated the general, " there is no great harm 
 in that ; it is better she should be Shvabrine's wife in the 
 meanwhile ; he will thus be able to protect her, and when 
 he is shot, why, then, please God, we shall find a bride- 
 groom for her. Pretty little widows do not long remain 
 single; at least, what I mean to say is, that a young 
 widow will sooner find a husband than would a young 
 girl." 
 
 " I should sooner consent to die," I said, enraged, " than 
 cede her to Shvabrine." 
 
 " Bah ! bah ! bah ! Ha !" said the old man. " Now I 
 understand; thou art evidently in love with Maria 
 Ivanovna. Oh ! that is another affair ! Poor fellow ; but 
 for all that, I cannot possibly give thee a battalion of
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 107 
 
 troops and fifty Cossacks. Such an expedition would be 
 injudicious, and I cannot possibly take the responsibility 
 upon myself." 
 
 I bowed. I was seized with despair. A sudden 
 thought flashed in my mind. What it was my reader 
 will learn in the following chapter, as old novel writers 
 say. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE REBEL CAMP. 
 
 I LEFT the general and hurried to my lodgings. Savelitch 
 met me with his usual admonition : " What pleasure canst 
 thou find, sir, in conferring with the tipsy robbers ? Is it 
 a gentlemanly occupation ? All times are not alike ; 
 thou shalt perish heedlessly. Well, it would be different 
 if thou foughtest against the Turk or the Swede ; but 
 just now, it is a sin even to name who the enemy is." 
 
 I interrupted him by asking how much money I had 
 altogether. 
 
 " Enough for thee," he answered, with a satisfied air. 
 " However well the robbers searched for it, still I managed 
 to conceal it." With these words he pulled out of his 
 pocket a long knitted purse full of silver. 
 
 " Well, Savelitch," I said, " give me one-half and take 
 the rest thyself. I go to the fortress of Byelogorsk." 
 
 " My little father, Piotr Andre vitch," said the good 
 servant, in a trembling voice ; " do not tempt God ! How 
 art thou to travel now, when all the roads are blocked up
 
 108 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 by these robbers ? Have pity upon thy parents, if thou 
 hast none for thyself. Where dost thou want to go to ? 
 What for ? Wait a short time ; the troops will soon be 
 hei'e and capture the rascals, then thou mayest go wher- 
 ever thou pleasest." 
 
 But my resolution was not to be shaken. 
 
 "It is too late now for reflection," said I to the old 
 man. " I must go. I cannot help going. Do not grieve, 
 Savelitch : God is merciful, we may meet again. Do not 
 scruple to make use of the money, and do not stint 
 thyself. Buy whatever thou mayest need, even if the 
 price be risen threefold. I make thee a present of the 
 money. If I do not return within three days . . . ." 
 
 " What dost thou say, sir ?" interrupted Savelitch ; 
 " dost thou think it possible that I should let thee go 
 alone ? No ; do not expect such a thing, even in thy 
 dream. If thou hast really decided upon going, I shall 
 follow thee even on foot. I shall not desert thee ! ' That 
 I should sit behind a stone wall without thee.' Dost 
 thou think me mad ? No, sir, I shall not remain behind." 
 
 I knew that it was useless to argue the point with 
 Savelitch, and allowed him to prepare for the journey. 
 In half an hour I had mounted my good horse, and 
 Savelitch a lean lame nag which one of the inhabitants 
 had given him gratis, not having the means left where- 
 with to keep it. We reached the town gates ; the 
 sentries allowed us to pass, and we rode out of Orenburg. 
 It was getting dark. My road lay past the village of 
 Berd, Pougatcheff 's retreat. The high road was snowed 
 over, but the tracks of horses' hoofs, daily renewed, were
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. \09 
 
 -visible over the whole steppe. I rode at a quick trot, 
 Savelitch could hardly follow me, and was continually 
 shouting 
 
 " Slower ! for God's sake slower ! My cursed little nag 
 cannot keep up with thy long-legged imp. Where is 
 the hurry ? Well enough if we were going to a feast I 
 As it is, we are making for the edge of the axe. . . . 
 Piotr Andrevitch. . . . My little father, Piotr Andre vitch I 
 . . . Good God ! the master's child is going to perdition." 
 
 The fires of Berd were sparkling before us. We neared 
 the deep ditches, the natural fortifications of the village. 
 Savelitch kept up with me, continuing, however, his 
 pitiful supplications without intermission. I was hoping 
 to go round the village without an accident, when 
 suddenly I perceived in front of me in the dark, five 
 mujiks armed with clubs they were PougatchefFs 
 advanced sentinels. We were hailed. Not knowing the 
 pass- word, I meant to ride by in silence; but they 
 instantly surrounded me, and one of them seized the 
 bridle of my horse. I drew my sabre, and struck the 
 mujik over the head ; his cap saved him, but he staggered 
 and let go the bridle. The others, becoming confused, 
 made off. I took advantage of this, and, putting spurs to 
 my horse, gallopped onwards. 
 
 The ever-increasing darkness might have ensured me 
 from all danger, but, upon looking behind, I perceived 
 that Savelitch was not with me. The poor old man on 
 his lame horse, was unable to effect his escape out of the 
 hands of the robbers. What was to be done ? Having 
 waited some few moments, and become persuaded that
 
 110 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 he had been detained, I turned to deliver him. As I 
 approached the ditch, I heard a noise in the distance 
 shouts and Savelitch's voice. Hurrying on, I soon found 
 myself again in the midst of the inujika on guard, who 
 had stopped me a few minutes previously. Savelitch 
 was amongst them. They threw themselves upon me 
 with loud cries, and dragged me off my horse in an 
 instant. One of them, evidently the man in charge, 
 declared that he would take us before the emperor im- 
 mediately. 
 
 " And our father is free to order," he added, " whether 
 you are to be hanged at once, or whether you are to 
 await God's daylight."- 
 
 I offered no resistance. Savelitch followed my example, 
 and the sentinels led us away in tiiumph. 
 
 We crossed the ditches and entered the village. Fires 
 were burning in all the huts. Shouts and noises re- 
 sounded everywhere. I met a crowd in the streets ; but 
 no one noticed us in the dark, nor was I recognized as 
 being an officer from Orenburg. We were taken straight 
 to a hut, which stood at a crossing. In front of it 
 were several wine casks and two cannon. 
 
 "Here is the palace," said one of the mujiks. "I s!:all 
 announce you at once." 
 
 He entered the hut. I looked at Savelitch ; the old 
 man was crossing himself, and muttering a prayer. I 
 had to wait a long time ; at last the mujik returned, and 
 said to me 
 
 " Go in, our father has ordered the officer to be 
 admitted."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. Ill 
 
 I entered the hut, or the palace as the mujifo had 
 called it. It was lit up by 'two tallow candles, and its 
 walls were covered with gilt paper; with this exception, 
 the benches, the table, the wash-hand basin suspended by 
 a cord, the towel hanging on a nail, the oven-fork in the 
 corner, and the broad shelf upon which stood flower-pots, 
 all was the same as in an ordinary hut. Pougatcheff sat 
 under the holy images, in a red caftan, a high cap, his 
 arms akimbo, looking remarkably important. By his 
 side stood several of his chief companions, with an 
 assumed air of servility. It was evident that the news 
 of the arrival of an officer from Orenburg had excited 
 great curiosity among the rebels, and that they were 
 preparing to receive me pompously. Pougatcheff recog- 
 nized me at first sight. His assumed look of importance 
 disappeared at once. 
 
 " Ah! your lordship!" said he, quickly. "How art 
 thou ? Why has God brought thee here ?" 
 
 I replied that I was riding past on private affairs, and 
 that his men stopped me. 
 
 " What affairs ?" he asked. 
 
 I did not know what answer to make. 
 
 Concluding that I did not wish to enter into explana- 
 tions in the presence of witnesses, Pougatcheff turned to 
 his comrades, and ordered them out. All obeyed with 
 the exception of two, who did not stir. 
 
 " Thou canst speak boldly before them," said Pougat- 
 cheff. " I do not conceal anything from them." 
 
 I looked askance at the pretender's confidants. One, a
 
 112 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 thin and bent old man, with a small gray beard, had 
 nothing remarkable about him, excepting a blue ribbon 
 which he wore over his gray coat across his shoulder. 
 But I shall never forget his fellow. He was tall, 
 powerful, and broad-shouldered, and appeared to be 
 about five-and-forty. His thick red beard, his gray 
 sparkling eyes, his nose without nostrils, and the red 
 spots on his forehead and cheeks, gave his pock-marked 
 broad face an indefinable expression. He wore a red 
 shirt, a Khirghis dressing gown, and Cossack trowsers. 
 The first (as I afterwards learned), was the deserter, 
 Corporal Byelobarodoff; the second, Aphanasy Sakaloff 
 (surnamed Hlopouslia), a banished convict, who had 
 escaped from the mines of Siberia on three different 
 occasions. The society I so unexpectedly found myself 
 in, for a time diverted my thoughts from the feelings 
 that exclusively agitated me. But Pougatcheff 's question 
 recalled me to myself. 
 
 "Speak; upon what business hast thou left Orenburg?" 
 
 A strange thought struck me. I fancied that Provi- 
 dence, which for the second time had confronted me with 
 Pougatcheff, was affording me the opportunity of carrying 
 out my intentions. I decided upon taking advantage of 
 this, and without giving myself time for reflection, I 
 answered PougatchefTs question. 
 
 " I go to the fortress of Byelogorsk, to free a poor 
 insulted orphan." 
 
 PougatchefFs eyes flashed. 
 
 " Who of my people has dared to offend the orphan ?" 
 he cried. " Were his forehead seven spans high, he shall
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 113 
 
 not escape my judgment. Speak! who is the guilty 
 one ?" 
 
 " Shvabrine," answered I. " He keeps in confinement 
 the girl which thou sawest sick at the priest's home, and 
 wishes to force her to marry him." 
 
 " I shall teach Shvabrine !" said Pougatcheff, sternly. 
 " He will learn what comes of indulging his own fancies, 
 and oppressing my people. I shall hang him." 
 
 "Let me have a word to say," said Hlopousha, in a 
 hoarse voice. " Thou wert in too much haste, when thou 
 didst appoint Shvabrine commandant of the fortress, and 
 now thou art equally in a hurry to hang him. Thou 
 hast already offended the Cossacks by nominating a noble- 
 man to be their chief; do not offend the noblemen in 
 like manner, by executing them on the first accusation !" 
 " There is no necessity for having pity on them, and 
 for showing them mercy," said the old man with the blue 
 ribbon. " There is no harm in hanging Shvabrine ; but 
 it would be just as well to question this officer further- 
 Why has he come ? If he does not acknowledge thee to 
 be his emperor, he has no right to seek justice at thy 
 hands ; and if he does acknowledge thee, why has he 
 then up to this day remained at Orenburg with thy 
 enemies ? Wilt thou not order me to take him into the 
 office and light a fire there ? I begin to suspect that his 
 grace is sent over to us by the Orenburg commanders." 
 
 The old wretch's logic struck me as being very con- 
 vincing. A cold shiver ran through me as I thought of 
 the hands into which I had fallen. Pougatcheff noticed 
 my perturbation ; " Well, your lordship," said he with a 
 
 8
 
 114 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 sneer, "the field-marshal is, I fancy, stating the truth. 
 What dost them think ?" 
 
 At Pougatcheff's sneer, my courage returned. I 
 answered quietly, that I was in his power, and that ho 
 might do with me as he thought proper. 
 
 "Very well," said Pougatcheff. "Now, tell me; in 
 what condition is your town ?" 
 
 "Thank God," I answered, "all is well." 
 
 " Well !" repeated Pougatcheff; " and the people dying 
 of starvation ?" 
 
 The pretender was speaking the truth ; but, bound by 
 my allegiance, I kept assuring him tliat all such were 
 empty rumours, and that Orenburg was well supplied 
 with all sorts of provisions. 
 
 "Thou seest," quickly observed the little old man, 
 "that he deceives thee to thy face. All the deserters 
 affirm unanimously that hunger and the plague are at 
 Orenburg, that the people eat carrion, and even that is an 
 honoured dish ; and his grace assures thee that they have 
 enough of everything. If thou wilt hang Shvabrine, 
 thou mayest as well hang this fellow on the same 
 gallows, to prevent either of them from feeling envious." 
 
 The cursed old man's words seemed to shake Pougat- 
 cheff. Fortunately Hlopousha began to cavil with his 
 companion. 
 
 " Be quiet, Naoumitch," said he ; " thou only thinkest 
 of strangling and stabbing. What sort of a hero art 
 thou? One has but to look at thee to wonder what 
 holds thy soul and body together ! Thou art with a foot
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 115 
 
 in the grave thyself, and wouldst cause others to perish. 
 Hast thou not enough blood on thy conscience yet T 
 
 " And thou, what kind of saint art thou ? reiterated 
 Byelobarodoff. " Where hast thou taken thy pity from ?" 
 " Of course," answered Hlopousha, " I am also a sinner, 
 and this hand " (here he clenched his bony hand, and 
 turning up his sleeve showed his hairy arm) "also is guilty 
 of having shed Christian blood. But I slew my enemy 
 and not my guest ; on the free highway and in the dark 
 wood, and not at home, behind the stove ; with the mace 
 and the axe, and not with old women's tales." 
 
 The old man turned away and muttered the words: 
 " Cut nostrils ! ;'.,.* 
 
 "What is it thou art whispering there, old owl?" 
 exclaimed Hlopousha. "Cut nostrils; mayest thou get 
 them ; thy turn is to come ; please God thou also shalt 
 
 have a smell at the tongs But till then, take 
 
 care lest I pluck out thy ugly beard !" 
 
 "Generals!" said Pougatcheff with dignity: "leave off 
 quarrelling. It would be no great misfortune if all the 
 Orenburg curs were to dangle from the same cross-beam ; 
 but it would be a misfortune if our dogs were to eat each 
 other up. There now, make it up." 
 
 Hlopousha and Byelobarodoff said not a word, and 
 scowled at each other. I felt the absolute necessity for 
 changing the conversation, which might have ended very 
 disadvantageously, so far as I was concerned, and turning 
 to Pougatcheff, I said cheerfully : 
 
 " Ah ! I was very nearly forgetting to thank thee for the 
 horse and the touloup. But for thee I would never have 
 
 8-2
 
 116 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 reached the town, and should have been frozen to death 
 by the way." 
 
 My bait took. Pougatcheff brightened up. 
 
 " A debt is rendered honourable by payment," said he, 
 with a wink. "Tell me now, what is the girl, whom 
 Shvabrine has offended, to thee ? Is thy heart perchance 
 caught, young man ? Eh ?" 
 
 " She is my affianced bride," I replied, seeing that the 
 sky had cleared, and that there was no necessity for con- 
 cealing the truth. 
 
 " Thy affianced bride !" exclaimed Pougatcheff. " Then 
 why didst thou not say so before ? We shall assi.st thee 
 to get married, and shall feast at thy wedding !" Then, 
 turning to Byelobarodoff: "Listen, field-marshal! His 
 lordship and I are old friends. Let us sit down to 
 supper; the morning will bring wiser counsels. We 
 shall consider what is to be done." 
 
 I would gladly have declined the proffered honour ; but 
 there was no help for it. Two young Cossack women, 
 the daughters of the proprietor of the isba* spread a 
 white cloth, placed a loaf of bread, a dish of ouhaft and 
 several bottles of wine and beer on the table, and I found 
 myself for the second time at the same board with 
 Pougatcheff and his terrible comrades. 
 
 The orgies, of which I was an involuntary witness, 
 continued until late at night. At last a state of intoxica- 
 tion began to overpower the revellers. Pougatcheff dozed 
 in his chair ; his companions rose and made me a sign to 
 
 * Cottage. Tr. t A fish-soup. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 117 
 
 leave him. We went out together. By Hlopousha's 
 arrangements, the sentry led me into the office, where I 
 found Savelitch, and where I was locked up with him. 
 Savelitch was so wonder-struck at all that was happen- 
 ing, that he never asked a single question. He lay down 
 in the dark, and sighed and groaned for a long time ; he 
 then began to snore, and I gave myself over to reflections, 
 which kept me awake throughout the night. 
 
 The next morning Pougatcheff sent for me. I went to 
 him. His kibitka, to which a troika of Tartar horses 
 was harnessed, stood ready at the gate. The streets were 
 crowded with people. I met Pougatcheff in the passage ; 
 he was dressed for a journey, in a pelisse and Khirghis 
 cap. His companions of the previous day surrounded 
 him, assuming an appearance of servility a strong con- 
 trast to all I had witnessed overnight. Pougatcheff 
 welcomed me cheerfully, and directed me to sit by his 
 side in the kibitka. 
 
 We took our places. "To the fortress of Byelogorsk," 
 said Pougatcheff to the broad-shouldered Tartar who, in 
 a standing position, drove the troiJca. My heart beat 
 fast. The horses started, the bells tinkled, our kibitka 
 flew. . . . 
 
 " Stop ! stop !" cried a voice I knew too well, and I saw 
 Savelitch running towards us. Pougatcheff ordered the 
 yemstchick to pull up. " My little father, Piotr Andre- 
 vitch," cried my servant ; " do not leave me in my old 
 age amongst these ras . . . ." 
 
 " Ah ! it is thou, old owl !" said Pougatcheff. " God
 
 118 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 has brought us together again. All right; jump up 
 behind." 
 
 "Thank you, sire, thank you, my father!" Savelitch 
 repeated, taking his seat. " May God grant thee health 
 for a hundred years, because thou hast looked down upon 
 me, old man that I am, and hast comforted me. I shall 
 ever pray for thee, and shall never even mention the 
 hare-skin touloup again." 
 
 This hare-skin touloup might have seriously angered 
 Pougatcheffin the end. Fortunately the pretender either 
 did not hear, or pretended not to hear the misplaced 
 allusion. The horses were again off. The people in the 
 streets stopped as we passed, and bowed low. Pougatcheff 
 nodded to them on both sides. In a few minutes we 
 were out of the village, and hurrying along the level road. 
 
 It is easy to imagine what my feelings were at that 
 moment. In a few hours I was to see her whom I had 
 already considered as lost to me. I pictured to myself 
 our re-union ; I also thought of the man upon whom my 
 fate depended, and who, by a curious chain of circum- 
 stances, was so mysteriously connected with me. I 
 recalled to mind the hasty cruelty, the bloodthirsty habits 
 of him who had constituted himself the deliverer, of the 
 one I loved. Pougatcheff was not aware that she was 
 Captain Mironoff's daughter ; the enraged Shvabrine was 
 capable of revealing all to him ; Pougatcheff might also 
 
 discover the truth from other sources What 
 
 would then befall Maria Ivanovna ? I felt a cold tremor, 
 and my hair stood on end 
 
 Suddenly Pougatcheff interrupted my meditations, 
 turning to me with the question :
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 119 
 
 " What is it that makes your lordship thoughtful ?" 
 
 " How am I not to be thoughtful ?" I answered. " I 
 am an officer and a nobleman; but yesterday I fought 
 against thee, and to-day I drive with thee in the same 
 kibitka, and the happiness of my life depends upon thee." 
 
 "Well, what then?" asked Pougatcheff. "Art thou 
 afraid T 
 
 I replied, that having once been spared by him, I 
 counted, not only upon his forbearance, but upon his 
 assistance. 
 
 "And thou art right; by God thou art right!" said 
 the pretender. "Thou sawest that my boys looked 
 askance at thee ; and the old man has insisted, even this 
 day, upon thy being a spy, and that thou should'st be 
 tortured and hanged ; but I would not consent," he added, 
 lowering his voice, so as not to be overheard by Savelitch 
 and the Tartar ; " for I recollected thy glass of wine and 
 thy touloup. Thou seest I am not yet such a bloodsucker 
 as thy people make me out to be." 
 
 I remembered the taking of the fortress of BySlogorsk, 
 but did not think it necessary to contradict him, and did 
 not answer a word. " What do they say of me at Oren- 
 burg ?" asked Pougatcheff, after a short pause. 
 
 "Why, they say that thou art difficult to manage; 
 and in truth, thou hast given us work to do." 
 
 The pretender's face expressed that his vanity was 
 satisfied. 
 
 " Yes !" said he with a pleased look ; " I am a good one 
 to fight. Have they heard at Orenburg of the battle of 
 Youzeiff ? Forty generals killed, four armies made captive.
 
 120 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 What thinkest thou ? Will the Prussian king be able to 
 withstand me ?" 
 
 The robber's bragging aroused me. 
 
 " What dost thou thyself think," said I ; " wouldst thou 
 be able to stand up against Frederick ?" 
 
 " With Feodor Feodorovitch ?* and why not ? Don't 
 I manage your generals, and they have beaten him ? Up 
 to the present time, my arms have been successful. Give 
 me but time, and thou wilt see still other things, when I 
 advance upon Moscow." 
 
 " And so thou thinkest of advancing upon Moscow ?" 
 The pretender reflected for a moment, and then said in a 
 low tone of voice : 
 
 " God knows. My road is narrow, my will is limited, 
 ^y boys have too much to say; they are scoundrels. I 
 must keep my ears open ; at the first mishap they will 
 buy off their necks with my head." 
 
 "Just so!" said I to Pougatcheff. "Would it not be 
 better if thou wert thyself to leave them, whilst it is yet 
 time, and throw thyself on the clemency of the empress ?" 
 
 Pougatcheff smiled a bitter smile. 
 
 " No," he replied, " it is too late for repentance. There, 
 can be no mercy for me. I shall continue as I have 
 begun. Who knows ? I may yet succeed ! Did not 
 Grishka Otrepieff reign over Moscow ?" 
 
 "But dost thou know what his end was? He was 
 pitched out of a window, killed, burned, and his ashes 
 were blown away from a gun !" 
 
 * Name given to Frederick the Great, by the Russian soldiers. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 121 
 
 " Listen," said Pougatcheff, with a sort of wild inspira- 
 tion. " I shall narrate to thee a tale which was told me 
 by an old Kalmuck woman in my childhood. Once upon 
 a time, an eagle inquired of a raven : ' Tell me, raven, 
 why dost thou live three hundred years in this bright 
 world, and I only thirty-three years in all?' 'Because, my 
 little father,' answered the raven, ' thou drinkest living 
 blood, and I feed off carrion.' The eagle thought : ' Well, 
 let us try to feed upon the same.' So the eagle and the 
 raven flew away. Suddenly they spied the carcass of a 
 horse. They let themselves down upon it. The raven 
 began to peck and to extol it. The eagle pecked once, 
 pecked twice, flapped his wings, and said to the raven : 
 ' No, brother raven, 'tis better to drink the living blood 
 once, than to feed for three hundred years upon carrion ; 
 and trust to God for the rest !' What sayest thou to the 
 Kalmuck tale ?" 
 
 " It is ingenious," I answered. " But to live by murder 
 and plunder is, according to my views, to peck at 
 carrion." 
 
 Pougatcheff looked at me with astonishment, and made 
 no reply. We became silent, each absorbed in his own 
 meditations. The Tartar struck up a doleful song. Save- 
 litch was nodding sleepily in the rumble. The kibitka, 
 flew over the smooth wintry road. ... Of a sudden I 
 perceived a small village on the steep banks of the Yaiik, 
 encircled by a palisade, and showing a church steeple ; a 
 quarter of an hour later, we drove into the fortress of 
 Byglogorsk.
 
 122 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE OKPHAN. 
 
 OUR kibitka stopped at the commandant's house. The 
 people had recognized the sound of Pougatcheff's bells, 
 and came out in a throng to meet him. Shvabrine 
 received the pretender at the very threshold. He wore 
 a Cossack uniform, and had allowed his beard to grow. 
 The traitor helped Pougatcheff to alight with fawning 
 demonstrations of joy and zeal. He looked confused upon 
 seeing me, but soon recovered himself and stretched out 
 his hand, saying : 
 
 " And thou also art one of us ? That's right. It should 
 have been so long ago !" 
 
 I turned away without making any reply. 
 
 My heart ached when I found myself in the old familiar 
 room where the late commandant's commission still hung 
 from the wall, a sad epitaph on times gone by. Pougat- 
 cheff seated himself on the sofa where Ivan Kouzmitch 
 used to doze, lulled to sleep by his consort's grumbling 
 Shvabrine himself carried a glass of vodka to him. 
 Pougatcheff drank it off, and said, pointing to me : 
 
 " Offer some to his lordship as well." 
 
 Shvabrine approached me with the tray ; but I turned 
 away from him a second time. He did not look like 
 himself. With his usual perspicacity, he could not have
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 123 
 
 failed to observe Pougatcheff's displeasure. He quailed 
 before him, and looked at me mistrustfully. Pougatcheff 
 made inquiries as to the condition of the fortress, as to 
 the prevalent rumours in regard to the enemy, and such 
 like, when suddenly and unexpectedly he asked : 
 
 " Tell me, my little brother, who is the girl thou h oldest 
 here imprisoned ? Let me see her." 
 
 Shvabrine turned deadly pale. 
 
 " Sire," said he in a trembling voice, .... " Sire, she 
 is not imprisoned .... she is ill .... she is in bed." 
 
 " Lead me to her chamber then," said the pretender, 
 rising. Refusal was impossible. Shvabrine conducted 
 Pougatcheff to Maria Ivanovna's room. I followed them. 
 
 Shvabrine stopped on the staircase. 
 
 " Sire !" said he, " you have it in your power to demand 
 whatever you please of me, but do not permit a stranger 
 to enter my wife's bedroom." 
 
 I shook all over. 
 
 " Then thou art married !" said I to Shvabrine, pre- 
 pared to tear him to pieces. 
 
 " Silence !" interrupted Pougatcheff, " that is my busi- 
 ness. As to thee," he continued, addressing Shvabrine, 
 " I will have no subtilty and no shamming : she may be 
 thy wife or not, but I take who I please into her room. 
 Your lordship, follow me." 
 
 Shvabrine again stopped when we had reached the 
 bedroom door, and said falteringly : 
 
 " Sire, I warn you, she is in a high state of fever and 
 has been delirious these three days." 
 
 " Open the door," said Pougatcheff.
 
 124 KUSSIAX EOMAXCE. 
 
 Shvabrine searched his pockets and said he had for- 
 gotten the key. Pougatcheff kicked the door, the lock 
 gave way, the door flew open, and we entered. 
 
 On looking about me, I felt ready to faint. On the 
 floor sat Maria Ivanovna, clad in a peasant's dress, pale, 
 haggard, and dishevelled. A jug of water, covered with 
 a lump of bread, was by her side. On seeing me she 
 started and screamed. I cannot express what my feel- 
 ings were. 
 
 Pougatcheff looked at Shvabrine, and said with a bitter 
 sneer : 
 
 " Thy hospital is not bad !" He then approached Maria 
 Ivanovna. " Tell me, my little dove, why does thy 
 husband punish thee ? How hast thou wronged him ?" 
 
 " Husband !" she repeated. " He is not my husband. 
 I shall never be his wife ! I prefer to die, and I shall 
 die, if I am not rescued." 
 
 Pougatcheff looked at Shvabrine menacingly. 
 
 " And thou hast dared to deceive me !" said he. " Dost 
 thou know, thou good for nothing, what thou deservest V 
 
 Shvabrine dropped on his knees. ... At such a sight, 
 contempt overcame every feeling of hatred and wrath 
 within me. I looked with loathing upon the nobleman 
 who was writhing at the feet of a Cossack deserter. 
 Pougatcheff relented. 
 
 " I pardon thee this time," said he to Shvabrine ; " but 
 know that the first time thou offendest, this also will be 
 reckoned against thee." He then turned to Maria Ivan- 
 ovna, and said to her kindly : " Come away, my pretty 
 girl ; I grant thee thy freedom. I am the Tzar."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 125 
 
 Maria Ivanovna threw a quick glance at him, and 
 guessed that it was the murderer of her parents who stood 
 before her. She covered her face with her hands, and 
 fell senseless to the floor. I rushed to her side ; at that 
 moment my old acquaintance Palashka slipped boldly into 
 the room, and began to busy herself about her mistress. 
 Pougatcheff left the chamber, and we three descended 
 into the sitting-room. 
 
 " Well, your lordship," said Pougatcheff, laughing, 
 " now that we have freed the pretty girl, what dost thou 
 think of our sending for the priest to marry his niece ? 
 I shall give her away if thou wishest ; Shvabrine will be 
 the best man ; we shall feast, and drink, and shut the 
 gates !" 
 
 What I had so much dreaded now came to pass. On 
 hearing Pougatcheff's proposal, Shvabrine quite lost his 
 head. 
 
 " Sire !" he exclaimed, enraged ; " I am guilty, I have 
 lied to you ; but Griueff also is deceiving you. This girl 
 is not the priest's niece ; she is the daughter of Ivan 
 Mironoff, who was executed at the taking of the fortress." 
 
 Pougatcheff fixed his fiery eyes on me. 
 
 " What does this mean ?" he asked, perplexed. 
 
 " Shvabrine has told thee the truth," I answered with 
 firmness. 
 
 " Thou didst not tell me of this," observed Pougatcheff, 
 whose face clouded over. 
 
 " Judge thyself," I replied; "how could one, in the 
 presence of thy people, declare that MironofFs daughter
 
 126 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 was in existence ? They would have torn her to pieces ! 
 Nothing could have saved her !" 
 
 "Thou art right again," said Pougatcheff, laughing. 
 " My drunkards would not have spared the poor girl. 
 The priest's wife has done well to deceive them." 
 
 "Listen," said I, upon seeing how well-disposed he 
 appeared to be. " I do not know, and do not wish to 
 know, by what name I am to address thee. . . . But God 
 is my witness, that I should be happy to pay thee with 
 my life for what thou hast done for me. Only do not 
 demand what is against my honour and my conscience as 
 a Christian. Thou art my benefactor. Complete what 
 thou hast commenced : let me go with the poor orphan 
 whithersover God may lead us. And we shall, wherever 
 thou mayest be, whatever thy lot, pray to God daily for 
 the salvation of thy sinful soul. . . ." 
 
 PougatchefFs untamed heart seemed touched. 
 
 " Let it be as thou desirest," said he. " If one must 
 execute, let execution be complete, and if one has to 
 pardon, let pardon be complete : such is my custom. 
 Take thy little beauty ; lead her wherever thou pleasest, 
 and may God bless your love and guide you." 
 
 Here he turned to Shvabrine, and ordered him to pro- 
 vide me with passes for all the barriers and fortresses 
 subject to him. Completely humilitated, Shvabrine stood 
 petrified. Pougatcheff then proceeded to inspect the 
 fortress, accompanied by Shvabrine, and I remained 
 behind, under the pretext that I had to get ready for my 
 journey. 
 
 I rushed to the bedroom. The door was closed. I
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 127 
 
 knocked. " Who is there ?" asked Palashka. I announced 
 myself. Maria Ivanovna's dear voice was heard behind 
 the door. " Wait a little, Piotr Andrevitch ; I am dressing. 
 Go to Akoulina Pamphylovna. I shall be there directly." 
 I complied, and went to Father Gherassim's house. 
 His wife and he ran out to meet me. Savelitch had fore- 
 stalled me. 
 
 " Good-day, Piotr Andrevitch," said the priest's wife. 
 "God has brought us together again. How are you? 
 We have never let a day pass without thinking of you. 
 And Maria, my poor dove, has suffered so much during 
 your absence ! . . . But tell me, my little father, how 
 have you managed Pougatcheff ? how is it that he has 
 not done away with you ? Well, we have to thank the 
 wretch." 
 
 " Leave off, old woman," interrupted Father Gherassim. 
 " Do not blab out all thou knowest. There is no salvation 
 in tale-telling. My little father, Piotr Andrevitch ! come 
 in, pray come in. What a time it is since we last saw 
 you !" 
 
 His wife set before me what they happened to have in 
 the house, talking incessantly the while. She related 
 how Shvabrine had compelled them to deliver Maria 
 Ivanovna to him ; how Maria Ivanovna cried, and would 
 not leave them ; how Maria Ivanovna communicated 
 with them through Palashka (a sharp lass, who knew how 
 to make the orderly even dance to her pipe) ; how she 
 had advised Maria Ivanovna to write to me, &c., &c. I, 
 in my turn, told her my story in a few words. The 
 priest and his wife crossed themselves, when they learned
 
 128 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 that Pougatcheff knew of their deception. "The power 
 of the cross be with us !" said Akoulina Pamphylovna. 
 " Do Thou, O God ! let the cloud pass away from us ! 
 Well, Aleksey Ivanovitch, thou art a cunning fox in- 
 deed!" At that moment the door opened, and Maria 
 Ivanovna entered, a smile playing on her pale face. She 
 had laid aside her peasant's garb, and was dressed as 
 usual, simply and becomingly. 
 
 I seized her hand, and for a long time was unable to 
 say a word. We were both silent, our hearts being too 
 full. Our hosts felt that they were in the way, and left 
 us. We remained alone. All was forgotten. We talked, 
 and it seemed that we were not able to say enough. 
 Maria told me all that had happened to her from the 
 time of the taking of the fortress, describing all the 
 horrors of her position, and all the trials to which the 
 base Shvabrine had subjected her. We also recalled the 
 happy past. . . . We were both crying ! .... At last I 
 exposed my plans to her. To remain in the fortress, in 
 Pougatcheff's power, and under the command of Shva- 
 brine, would be impossible. One could not think of 
 Orenburg then undergoing all the calamities of a siege. 
 She had no relatives living. I advised her to go to my 
 parents' property. At first she hesitated : the prejudice 
 manifested against her by my father alarmed her. I 
 tranquillized her. I knew that my father would consider 
 it a happiness, and would make it his duty to receive the 
 daughter of a worthy warrior who had perished in the 
 service of his country. " Dear Maria Ivanovna !" I said, 
 " I look upon thee as I would upon my wife. Extra-
 
 THE CAPTAIN '8 DA UGHTEB. 129 
 
 ordinary circumstances have united us indissolubly ; 
 nothing on earth can separate us." Maria Ivanovna 
 listened to me with gentleness, without any affectation 
 of reserve, and without inventing any excuses. She felt 
 that her destiny was bound up with mine. But she 
 repeated that she would only become my wife with the 
 consent of my parents. I said nothing in opposition to 
 this. We exchanged a passionate ardent kiss, and thus 
 all was settled between us. 
 
 An hour afterwards, an orderly brought to me a pass, 
 signed with Pougatcheff's hieroglyphics, and informed me 
 that Pougatcheff desired to see me. I found him ready 
 to start. I cannot express what I felt at parting from 
 this dreadful man, this monster, this miscreant towards 
 everybody excepting myself. Why should I not speak 
 the truth ? At that moment I felt drawn towards him 
 by strong sympathies. I eagerly longed to tear him 
 away from the gang of wretches, whose leader he was, 
 and save his head whilst there was yet time. I was 
 hindered from expressing to him what filled my heart 
 to overflowing, by the presence of Shvabrine and the 
 people who were gathered about us. 
 
 We parted as friends. Seeing Akoulina Pamphylovna 
 in the crowd, Pougatcheff shook his finger at her, and 
 winked significantly. He then entered the kibitka, gave 
 the order to drive to Berd, and when the horses had 
 already started, he leant out of the kibitlca, and shouted 
 out to me : " Good-bye, your lordship ; we may perhaps 
 meet again some day." We did indeed meet but under 
 what circumstances ! . . . . 
 
 9
 
 130 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Pougatcheff was gone. I gazed long at the white 
 steppe over which his troika sped. The crowd dispersed, 
 Shvabrine withdrew. I returned to the priest's house. 
 All was ready for our departure ; I was anxious not to 
 delay. Our luggage had been placed in the com- 
 mandant's old travelling carriage. The yemstchick 
 quickly put the horses to. Maria Ivanovna went to 
 take a last farewell of the graves of her parents, which 
 stood behind the church. I offered to accompany her, 
 but she begged that I should let her go alone. She 
 returned in a few minutes, weeping silently. The 
 carriage drove up, Father Gherassim and his wife came 
 out. We three, Maria Ivanovna, Palashka, and I, took 
 our places inside the kibitka. Savelitch scrambled into 
 the rumble. " Farewell, Maria Ivanovna, my little dove ! 
 farewell Piotr Andrevitch, our falcon bird !" the good 
 priest's wife said. "A happy journey to you and God 
 bless you both !" We left. I saw Shvabrine standing at 
 a window of the commandant's house. His look was 
 one of dark hatred. I had no desire to triumph over a 
 humiliated foe, and turned my face away. We emerged 
 from the fortress, and left Byelogorsk behind us for ever. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE ARREST. 
 
 I WAS so unexpectedly united to the dear girl regarding 
 whose safety I had been even that very morning so 
 anxiously concerned, that I could not believe my senses,
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 131 
 
 and fancied that all tbat was occurring was an empty 
 dream. Maria Ivanovna looked pensively, now at me, 
 now at the road, and seemed unable to realize her 
 position. We were silent, our hearts had been too 
 severely tried. Time passed away imperceptibly, and in 
 two hours we were already entering the nearest fortress, 
 ako in PougatchefFs power. Here we changed horses. 
 I saw by the haste with which they were put to by the 
 eager officiousness of the bearded Cossack raised to the 
 post of commandant by Pougatcheff, that, thanks to the 
 loquaciousness of our yemstchick, I was taken for a court 
 favourite ! 
 
 We continued our journey, night began to close around 
 us. We approached a small town, where, according 
 to the statement of the Cossack, we should find a 
 detachment, about to join the pretender. We were 
 stopped by the sentry. To the challenge, "Who goes 
 there ?" the yemstchick answered in a loud voice : " The 
 emperor's koum, with his lady." In an instant, a troop 
 of Hussars surrounded us, using fearfully abusive 
 language. " Get out, thou devil's koum /" said a mou- 
 stachoed sergeant-major. " Thou shalt catch it presently, 
 thou and thy lady !" 
 
 I alighted and demanded to be taken to the officer in 
 command. On perceiving my uniform, the soldiers 
 desisted from abusing us. The sergeant-major conducted 
 me to the major. Savelitch followed close after me, 
 muttering to himself, "There is the emperor's koum 
 for you. Out of the frying pan into the fire. . . . Good 
 
 92
 
 132 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 God ! how is it all to end 1" The Jcibitka came after us, 
 at a slow pace. 
 
 A five minutes' walk brought us to a small house, 
 brightly lit up. The sergeant-major put a sentry over 
 me, and went to report me. He immediately returned, 
 and stated that his lordship had no time to receive me, 
 but that he had ordered that I should be conveyed to the 
 prison, and the lady to his house. 
 
 " What does this mean ?" I cried beside myself. " Has 
 he lost his senses ?" 
 
 " I cannot say, your lordship," answered the sergeant- 
 major. " Only his high lordship has ordered your lord- 
 ship to be taken to the prison, and her ladyship is to be 
 taken to his high lordship, your lordship." 
 
 I rushed into the porch. The sentries did not attempt 
 to hold me back, and I ran straight into a room where 
 six Hussar officers were playing at cards. The major was 
 dealing. What was my astonishment, when on looking 
 at him I recognized Ivan Ivanovitch Zourine, who had 
 once cheated me at the inn in Simbirsk. 
 
 "Is it possible ?" I exclaimed, "Ivan Ivanovitch ? is it 
 thou ?" 
 
 " But ! ha ! ha ! Piotr Andrevitch ? What brings thee 
 liere ? Where art thou from ? How art thou ? Wilt 
 thou take a card ?" 
 
 " Thank you, no. Give directions that I should be taken 
 to lodgings somewhere." 
 
 " What lodgings ? Stay here." 
 
 " I cannot ; I am not alone." 
 
 " Well, then, let thy comrade come also."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 133 
 
 " I am not with a comrade ; I am .... with a lady." 
 
 " With a lady ! Where didst thou hook her ? Aha ! 
 sir!" 
 
 With these words, Zourine whistled in such an extra- 
 ordinary manner, that all burst out laughing. I got quite 
 confused. 
 
 " Very well," continued Zourine, " thou shalt have a 
 lodging. But it is a pity .... We should have feasted 
 as in old times .... I say, boy ! why don't they bring 
 Pougatcheff's kouma here ? Or is she capricious ? Tell 
 her not to be afraid ; the master is a kind man, he will 
 not offend her lead her in by the shoulders." 
 
 " What art thou talking about ?" said I to Zourine. 
 " What kouma of Pougatcheff ? It is the daughter of the 
 late Captain Mironoff. I delivered her out of captivity, 
 and am now taking her to my father's house, where I 
 shall leave her." 
 
 " What ? then it was thee they reported just now ? 
 Gracious ! what is the meaning of it all ?" 
 
 " I shall tell thee by-and-by ; but at present, for 
 God's sake, come and reassure the poor girl, whom thy 
 hussars have frightened." 
 
 Zourine immediately made the necessary arrangements. 
 He went out himself to apologise to Maria Ivanovna for 
 the involuntary misunderstanding, and ordered the 
 sergeant-major to take her to the best lodgings in the 
 town. I remained his guest for the night. 
 
 We supped, and when we were left alone I related to 
 him my adventures. Zourine listened very attentively. 
 When I had concluded, he shook his head and said :
 
 134 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " All well enough ; one thing only is not well ; why 
 the devil dost thou want to marry ? I am an honest 
 man, I do not wish to deceive thee ; believe me when I 
 tell thee that marriage is all nonsense. What dost thou 
 want to drag a wife about for, and nurse brats ? Spit 
 upon such a notion. Listen to me : break with the 
 captain's daughter. The road to Simbirsk has been 
 cleared by me, and is now safe. Send her alone to- 
 morrow to thy parents; and remain in my detachment. 
 There is no necessity for thee to return to Orenburg. If 
 thou wert to fall again into the hands of the rebels, thou 
 wouldst hardly get away. Thus this amorous trash will 
 wear itself out, and all will be well." 
 
 Although I did not quite agree with all he said, still I 
 felt that honour and duty required my presence in her 
 majesty's army. I decided upon following Zourine's 
 advice ; to send Maria Ivanovna to my parents, and to 
 remain with the detachment. 
 
 Savelitch came to assist me to undress. I desired him 
 to be prepared the next day to accompany Maria 
 Ivanovna. He was about to rebel. 
 
 " What dost thou say, sir ? How am I to leave thee ? 
 Who is to look after thee? What will thy parents 
 say ?" 
 
 Well aware of his obstinate disposition, I resolved upon 
 winning him over with kind and confidential words. 
 
 " My good friend, Arhipp Savelitch !" said I, " do not 
 refuse to be a benefactor to me ; I shall not need a 
 servant, but I shall be uneasy if Maria Ivanovna were to 
 leave without thee. In serving her, thou shalt serve me
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 135 
 
 because I have made up my mind to marry her so soon 
 as circumstances will permit." 
 
 Here Savelitch clasped his hands in indescribable 
 amazement. 
 
 " Marry !" he repeated. " The child wants to marry ! 
 What will his father say ? What will his mother think 
 ofiU" 
 
 " They will consent, they will certainly consent," I 
 replied, " when they know Maria Ivanovna. I also rely 
 upon thee. My father and mother have faith in thee ; 
 thou wilt speak in our behalf, wilt thou not ?" 
 
 The old man was moved. 
 
 " Oh ! my little father, Piotr Andrevitch !" answered he. 
 " Although thou hast taken it into thy head to marry too 
 early, still Maria Ivanovna is such a dear young lady 
 that it would be a sin tD miss such an opportunity. 
 Then let it be as thou sayest. I shall accompany the 
 angel of God, and shall humbly submit that such a bride 
 need not have a dowry." 
 
 I thanked Savelitch, and laid me down in the same 
 room with Zourine. Being very excited, I grew taljcative. 
 At first Zouriue conversed readily, but by degrees his 
 speech became indistinct, and he finally answered me 
 with a snore. I ceased talking, and soon followed his 
 example. 
 
 The next morning I went to Maria Ivanovna. I com- 
 municated to her my plans. She admitted that they 
 were wise, and at once agreed with me. Zourine's detach- 
 ment was to quit that same day. No time was to be lost. 
 I bid Maria Ivanovna " good-bye " on the instant, entrust-
 
 136 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ing her to Savelitch, and giving her a letter to my 
 parents. Maria Ivanovna burst out crying : 
 
 " Good-bye, Piotr Andrevitch," said she in a low voice. 
 " God alone knows whether we shall meet again, but I 
 shall never forget you ; thou alone shalt live in my heart 
 to my dying hour." 
 
 I was not able to say anything. We were surrounded 
 by people. I wished to avoid giving way, in their 
 presence, to the feelings by which I was agitated. At 
 last she was gone. I returned to Zourine, sad and silent. 
 He tried to cheer me up, and I endeavoured to divert my 
 thoughts. We spent the day noisily and in feasting, and 
 in the evening we marched out. 
 
 We had got to the end of February. Winter, which 
 had impeded military movements, was drawing to its 
 close, and our generals were preparing for concerted 
 action. Pougatcheff was still under the walls of Orenburg.. 
 But our forces were uniting and drawing near the robber's 
 lair on all sides. Insurgent villages surrendered upon 
 sight of our troops; the villain's bands were everywhere 
 flying before us, and everything foretold a speedy and 
 successful termination of the revolt. 
 
 Shortly after this, Prince Galitzin beat Pougatcheff, 
 who had advanced upon the fortress of Tatishscheff, dis- 
 persed his troops, relieved Orenburg, and to all appear- 
 ances struck the final and decisive blow. Zourine had 
 been detached and sent against a band of rebel Bashkirs, 
 
 O ' 
 
 who had however dispersed before we got up with them. 
 Spring overtook us whilst we were in a small Tartar 
 village. The rivers overflowed, and the roads became
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 137 
 
 impracticable. We consoled ourselves during our inactivity 
 with the thought of a speedy termination to this tiresome 
 and petty warfare with robbers and savages. 
 
 But Pougatcheff had not been captured. He made his 
 appearance at the mines of Siberia, where he assembled 
 fresh bands, and renewed his ravages. Rumours of his 
 successes again spread about. We learnt of the destruc- 
 tion of several Siberian fortresses. Soon the news of the 
 taking of Kazan and of the advance of the pretender on 
 Moscow, alarmed the commanders of the military forces, 
 who were listlessly enjoying repose in the fond hope that 
 the despised rebel had been reduced to subjection. 
 Zourine received orders to cross the Volga. 
 
 I shall not describe our march and the termination of the 
 war. I shall briefly observe that wretchedness had reached 
 its climax. All authority was at an end; landed pro- 
 prietors were hiding in the woods. Insurgent bands 
 pillaged in every direction. The officers in command of 
 detached forces, punished and remitted at will; the con- 
 dition of this large territory which had become a prey to 
 the flames, was dreadful to contemplate! .... May 
 Heaven spare us from witnessing a Russian rebellion ; it 
 is senseless and pitiless ! 
 
 Pougatcheff had fled, and was pursued by Ivan 
 Ivanovitch Mihelson. We soon heard of his complete 
 annihilation. At length Zourine received intelligence of 
 the capture of the pretender, and at the same time orders 
 to halt. The war was at an end. I should now be able 
 to go to my parents. The prospect before me, that I 
 should embrace them, that I should see Maria Ivanovna,
 
 138 KUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 of whom I had had no news, filled ine with delight. I 
 danced about like a child. Zourine laughed and said, 
 shrugging his shoulders : 
 
 " No, no ; no good will come of it ! Thou shalt marry 
 and thou shalt be lost !" 
 
 But a strange feeling envenomed my joy : I thought of 
 the wretch whose hands had been steeped in the blood of 
 so many innocent victims, and of the execution that 
 awaited him, and felt disturbed in spite of myself. 
 " Why," thought I with vexation, " why didst thou 
 not run up ,n gainst a bayonet, or fall under a shower 
 of grape ? Thou could'st not have done better." How 
 was I to feel otherwise ? I never should forget his 
 merciful consideration towards me at one of the most 
 terrible moments of my life, and to him I owad the 
 deliverance of my betrothed out of the hands of the 
 hateful Shvabrine. 
 
 Zourine granted me leave of absence. In a few days I 
 was again to be in the bosom of my family. I was again 
 to see my bride. An unexpected storm burst over me. 
 
 On the appointed day of my departure, at the very 
 moment that I was about to start on my journey, Zourine 
 entered my hut, holding a paper and looking much 
 disturbed. Something pricked me at the heart. I feared 
 I knew not what. He sent my servant out of the room, 
 and said that he had some business to transact with me. 
 
 "What is it ?" I asked, alarmed. 
 
 "An unpleasant matter," said he, giving me the paper. 
 "Read what I have just received." 
 
 I read it: it was a confidential order, directing all
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 139 
 
 officers in command of detachments to arrest me wherever 
 I should be found, and to send me without delay under 
 an armed escort to Kazan, before the commission 
 appointed to investigate the charges laid against Pougat- 
 cheff. 
 
 The paper almost dropped out of my hands. " I can 
 do nothing," said Zourine. " My duty is to carry out the 
 order. The rumours of thy friendly journeys with 
 Pougatcheff have somehow reached the ears of the 
 authorities. I hope there will be no evil consequences 
 and that thou wilt justify thyself before the commission. 
 Do not be downhearted, and go." 
 
 My conscience was clear. I did not fear a court- 
 martial ; but I was alarmed at the prospect of the pro- 
 bability of a delay, for months to come, in the happy 
 meeting I had anticipated. The telega* was ready. 
 Zourine bid me a friendly adieu. I mounted the telega,. 
 Two hussars with drawn sabres sat upon either side of 
 me, and I soon found mj'self on the high road. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 JUDGMENT. 
 
 I FELT convinced that my wilful departure from Orenburg 
 was the cause of my arrest. I was able to exculpate my- 
 self easily enough ; reconnoitring had not been pro- 
 hibited ; but on the contrary, was greatly encouraged. I 
 
 * A cart. Tr.
 
 140 RUSSIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 might be charged with over zeal, but not with dis- 
 obedience. My friendl}' intercourse with Pougatcheff, 
 however, could be proved by a multitude of witnesses, 
 and would appear, to say the least, very suspicious. I 
 thought much over the inquiry that awaited me, framed 
 my replies, and made up my mind to speak the whole 
 truth, believing such a course to be the simplest, and at 
 the same time the most hopeful. 
 
 I reached Kazan, deserted and consumed by fire. 
 Where once had stood the houses, lay heaps of ashes on 
 either side the streets, while blackened walls, windowless 
 and roofless, stood out here and there. Such were the 
 traces Pougatcheff had left behind him. I was taken to 
 the fortress, which alone had escaped the conflagration. 
 The hussars handed me over to the officer on guard. He 
 sent for the blacksmith. Chains were put on my feet 
 and soldered together. I was then conveyed to prison, 
 and left alone in a small and dark cell, with bare walls 
 and a window secured with iron bars. 
 
 Such a beginning forebode no good. However, I lost 
 neither courage nor hope. I sought refuge in the con- 
 solation of all who are heavy laden ; and having for the 
 first time tasted the sweetness of prayer, issuing from a 
 pure though broken heart, I sank into a quiet sleep, un- 
 concerned as to what awaited me. 
 
 I was awoke by the jailer the next morning, who 
 announced to me that my presence was required before 
 the commission. A couple of soldiers escorted me across 
 the court-yard into the commandant's house ; they 
 remained in the hall, and I was suffered to enter alone.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 141 
 
 I found myself in a tolerably spacious room. At a 
 table, strewn with papers, sat two men ; an old general 
 with a stern and cold countenance, and a young captain 
 of the Guards of about eight and twenty years of age, of 
 prepossessing exterior, and pleasing and easy manners. 
 Near the window, at a separate table, sat the secretary, a 
 pen behind his ear, bending over his papers, ready to note 
 my deposition. The inquiry commenced. I was asked 
 my name and surname. The general inquired whether I 
 was the son of Andrey Petrovitch Griueff, and upon my 
 replying in the affirmative, roughly remarked : " Pity 
 that such an honourable man should have such an un- 
 worthy son !" I answered quietly, that whatever the 
 nature of the charges about to be preferred against me, I 
 hoped to be able to meet them by a sincere declaration of 
 the truth. My self-assurance displeased him. " Thou 
 art sharp, my good fellow," said he frowning, "but we 
 have seen the like of thee before this !" 
 
 The young man then asked, upon what occasion and 
 at what period I had entered Pougatcheff's service, and 
 upon what duties I had been employed by him ? 
 
 I replied with indignation, that as an officer and a 
 nobleman, I could neither have entered PougatchefFs 
 service nor have accepted any employment under him. 
 
 " How is it then," reiterated my interrogator, " that the 
 nobleman and officer alone was spared by the pretender, 
 when all his comrades were cruelly put to death ? How 
 is it that that same officer and nobleman feasted amicably 
 with the rebels, and accepted from the chief of the vaga- 
 bonds, a pelisse, a horse, and half a rouble in money ?
 
 142 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 How did such a strange friendship originate, and upon 
 what was it based, if not on treachery, or, at least, on. 
 base and criminal cowardice ?" 
 
 I was deeply hurt at the officer's words, and proceeded 
 to exculpate myself with warmth. I related in what 
 manner my acquaintance with Pougateheff had begun in 
 the steppe, during a snowstorm, and how he recognized 
 and spared me at the taking of the fortress of Byelogorsk. 
 I admitted that I did not scruple to accept the touloup 
 and the horse from the pretender, but that I had de- 
 fended the fortress of Byelogorsk against the rebel, to the 
 last extremity. I concluded by referring him to my 
 general, who could testify to my zeal during the calami- 
 tous siege of Orenburg. 
 
 The stern old man took up an open letter and read it 
 aloud : 
 
 " With reference to the inquiry made by your excel- 
 lency in regard to Ensign Griueff, supposed to be impli- 
 cated in the present uprising, and to have entered into 
 communication with the insurgent, a proceeding contrary 
 to the rules of the service, and in violation of the oath of 
 allegiance ; I have the honour to report, that the said 
 Ensign Griueff was on duty at Orenburg from the be- 
 ginning of October of the past year, 1773, to the 24th of 
 February of the present year, at which date he absented 
 himself from the town, and has not served under my 
 command since. Deserters from the enemy are reported 
 to have stated that he has been in PougatchefFs 
 camp, and that he drove with him to the fortress of 
 Byelogorsk, in which he had formerly served ; with
 
 THL CA PTAIN 'S DA UGHTES. 143 
 
 regard to his conduct, I can only . . ." Here he stopped 
 and said in a severe tone of voice : " What canst thou 
 say to this, in thy defence ?" 
 
 It was my intention to have continued as I had begun, 
 and to have declared my connection with Maria Ivan- 
 ovna as frankly as I had narrated the rest, but I sud- 
 denly felt an irrepressible aversion to doing so. It 
 struck me that the commission would call for her as a 
 witness were I to mention her, and the idea of mixing 
 up her name with the vile evidence of the wretches, and 
 also confronting her with them face to face this dreadful 
 consideration so shocked me that I became confused, and 
 lost my presence of mind. 
 
 My examiners, who had apparently begun to listen to 
 me with a certain amount of consideration, became again 
 prejudiced upon noticing my indecision. The officer of 
 the Guards required that I should be opposed to my 
 principal accuser. The general ordered that wretch of 
 yesterday to be summoned. I turned abruptly towards 
 the door, in expectation of my accuser. In a few minutes 
 the clanking of chains was heard, the door was opened, 
 and Shvabrine appeared. I was astonished at the change 
 that had taken place in him. He was painfully thin and 
 pale. His hair, so recently of a jet black, had turned 
 quite gray ; his long beard was matted. He repeated his 
 accusations in a faint but firm voice. He stated that I 
 had been sent off to Orenburg by Pougatcheff as a spy ; 
 that I daily rode out reconnoitring with the object of 
 having written reports conveyed, of all that was passing 
 in the town ; that I at last joined the pretender, accom-
 
 144 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 panying hi in from fortress to fortress, and seeking by every 
 means to injure my fellow-traitors, with the view of 
 usurping their places, and of benefiting by the rewards 
 showered by the pretender. I listened in silence and felt 
 at case in one respect. Maria Ivanovna's name had not 
 been uttered by the base wretch, either because his 
 vanity suffered at the remembrance of her who had 
 rejected him with scorn, or perhaps because a spark of 
 the same feeling which forced me to silence still lingered 
 in his breast. However that may be, the name of the 
 daughter of the commandant of the fortress of Byelogorsk 
 was not mentioned in the presence of the commission. I 
 felt strengthened in my resolution, and when the officers 
 asked me how I could refute Shvabrine's evidence, I 
 replied that I held to my first deposition, and had nothing 
 further to offer in my defence. The general ordered us 
 to withdraw. We went out together. I looked at 
 Shvabrine without saying a word to him. He smiled 
 viciously, and lifting his chains, stepped quickly past 
 me. I was reconducted to jail, but was not again taken 
 before the commission. 
 
 I was not a witness of all that now remains to be re- 
 lated to the reader; but I have so often heard it described, 
 that the smallest details have, as it were, been graven in 
 my memory, and I feel as though I had been myself 
 present. 
 
 Maria Ivanovna was received by my parents with that 
 sincerity and good-will so characteristic of people in days 
 gone by. They considered it a divine favour, that the 
 opportunity was afforded them of welcoming and com-
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DA UGHTER. 145 
 
 forting the poor orphan. They soon became truly at- 
 tached to her, for it was impossible to know and not to 
 love her. My father no longer looked upon my attach- 
 ment as a piece of folly ; and as to my mother, her only 
 wish was that her Petrousha should marry the captain's 
 dear little daughter. 
 
 The rumours of my arrest painfully astonished my 
 parents. Maria Ivanovna had narrated to them so inno- 
 cently my acquaintance with Pougatcheff, that, far from 
 being disquieted, they were frequently induced to laugh 
 heartily. My father would not believe that I was impli- 
 cated in the despicable rebellion, which had for its object 
 the overthrow of the throne and the abolition of nobility. 
 He examined Savelitch narrowly on this point. The old 
 man did not conceal the fact that his master had visited 
 Eniilian PougatchefF, and that the wretch made a great 
 deal of him ; but he at the same time swore that he had 
 never heard of any treason. The old people were reas- 
 sured, and anxiously awaited favourable news. Maria 
 Ivanovna was much agitated, but said little, for her dis- 
 position was in the highest degree a retired one. 
 
 Several weeks elapsed and my father re- 
 ceived a letter concerning myself, from our relative Prince 
 * * * at Petersburgh. After the usual preliminaries, he 
 wrote that the suspicion of my share in the schemes of 
 the insurgents had unfortunately proved only too well 
 founded; that my execution had been deemed necessary 
 for the sake of example, but that the empress, in con- 
 sideration of my father's meritorious services and ad- 
 vanced years, had decided upon extending her pardon to 
 
 10
 
 146 XUSSIAX JtOMANCE. 
 
 the criminal son, and, sparing him from an ignominious 
 death, had commanded that he should be sent to a dis- 
 tant part of Siberia, an exile for life. 
 
 This unexpected blow almost killed my father. He 
 lost his habitual firmness, and vented his (usually mute) 
 grief in bitter lamentations. 
 
 " What !" repeated he, beside himself. " That my son 
 should have plotted with PougatchefF! Oh, heavens! 
 that I should have lived to see this ! The empress de- 
 livers him from death ! Am I the better for that ? It is 
 not execution that is dreadful ; my great-grandfather 
 died on the scaffold because he would not violate the 
 dictates of his conscience ; my father suffered with 
 Volinsky* and Aroushtcheff. But that a nobleman 
 should break his oath of allegiance, that he should unite 
 himself with robbers, murderers, and runaway serfs ! 
 It is a shame and a disgrace to our race !...." 
 
 Alarmed at his despair, my mother dared not weep in 
 his presence, and endeavoured to restore to him his 
 courage by suggesting the probability of the rumours 
 being false, and popular opinion divided. My father was 
 inconsolable. 
 
 Maria Ivanovna suffered the most. Feeling persuaded 
 that I might have exculpated myself had I wished to do 
 .so, she guessed the truth, and accused herself as being the 
 cause of my misfortunes. She tried to conceal her tears 
 
 * Volinsky had presented to the Empress Anna a paper, having 
 for its object the overthrow of Biron ; he and his friends subse- 
 quently fell victims to the vengeance of that favourite. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. ^ 147 
 
 and her anguish, and was incessantly devising means for 
 obtaining my deliverance. 
 
 One evening my father sat on the sofa turning over the 
 leaves of the "Court Calendar," but his thoughts were 
 far away, and the perusal did not produce its wonted 
 effects. He whistled an old march. My mother was 
 silently knitting a woollen jacket, an occasional tear 
 dropping on it. Maria Ivanovna, who was at her work 
 by their side, informed them, without any preface, that 
 she was under the necessity of going to Petersburg, and 
 begged they would furnish her with the requisite means 
 for the journey. My mother felt much grieved. 
 
 " Why dost thou want to go to Petersburgh ?" said she. 
 " Is it possible, Maria Ivanovna, that thou wishest to 
 abandon us ?" 
 
 Maria Ivanovna answered that her future depended 
 upon the journey ; that she was going to seek the pro- 
 tection and assistance of people of influence, as the 
 daughter of a man who had suffered for his loyalty. 
 
 My father drooped his head ; he was pained at every 
 word that reminded him of his son's imputed crime, and 
 felt it as a poignant reproach to himself. 
 
 " Go," said he, with a sigh. " We do not wish to stand 
 in the way of thy happiness. May God grant thee a 
 good man for thy husband, in the place of a sullied 
 traitor!" 
 
 He rose, and left the room. 
 
 Alone with my mother, Maria Ivanovna partly dis- 
 closed her intentions. My mother embraced her with 
 tears, praying to God for a happy issue to the precon- 
 
 102
 
 148 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ceived project. Maria Ivanovna started upon her journey 
 a few days after this, accompanied by the faithful 
 Palashka and the trusty Savelitch, who consoled himself, 
 during his forced separation from me, with the reflection 
 that he was at least serving my bride-elect. 
 
 Maria Ivanovna arrived safely at Sofia, and, on learn- 
 ing that the court happened to be at Tzarskoe-Selo, she 
 decided upon remaining. A little room behind a parti- 
 tion was got ready for her at the station. The station- 
 master's wife immediately entered into conversation with 
 her, informed her that she was the niece of a fire-lighter 
 at the palace, and initiated her into all the mysteries of 
 court life. She told her at what hour the empress 
 usually rose, drank her coffee, took her walk ; what great 
 gentlemen were with her at such times ; what she had 
 deigned to say yesterday at dinner, and whom she had re- 
 ceived in the evening. In a word, Anna Vlassievna's 
 accounts would have filled a volume of historical notes, 
 and would have been highly prized by the coming gener- 
 ation ! 
 
 Maria Ivanovna listened attentively. She strolled 
 into the garden. Anna Vlassievna* had a story to tell of 
 each alley, each little bridge ; and, after a long walk, they 
 returned to the station quite pleased with each other. 
 
 The following morning Maria Ivanovna woke early, 
 dressed, and quietly went out into the garden. It was a 
 lovely morning. The sun was shining brightly through 
 the lime-trees, already seared by the fresh autumnal 
 breezes, the smooth surface of the broad lake glittered in 
 
 * Anne, daughter of Blase. Tr.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 149 
 
 the sunshine, the swans emerged proudly from under the 
 overhanging bushes. Maria Ivanovna passed by the 
 beautiful lawn, upon which a monument had been lately 
 erected in commemoration of the recent victories of Count 
 Piotr Alexandrovitch Roumiantgoff. Suddenly a little 
 white dog, of an English breed, barked and rushed at 
 her. Maria Ivanovna started, and at the same moment 
 she heard a pleasant female voice say : 
 
 " Do not fear, she does not bite." 
 
 And Maria Ivanovna saw a lady on the bench in front 
 of the monument. Maria Ivanovna sat herself down at 
 one end. The lady eyed her sharply, and Maria Ivanovna 
 on her part had time, in a few side glances, to scan her 
 from head to foot. She was in a white morning dress, a 
 cap, and a doushegreyka. She appeared to be about forty 
 years of age. Her full, blooming face was expressive of 
 dignity and calm, and her blue eyes and smiling lips 
 added an inexpressible charm. The lady was the first to 
 break the silence. 
 
 " You are probably a stranger ?" she said. 
 
 " Yes ; I arrived yesterday only, from the country." 
 
 "You have come with your parents ?" 
 
 " No, I have not. I have come alone." 
 
 " Alone ! But you are so young." 
 
 " I have no father or mother." 
 
 " You are here on business, probably ?" 
 
 "Yes, I have come to present a petition to the em- 
 press." 
 
 " You are an orphan, and probably have to complain 
 of injustice or insult ?"
 
 150 SUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " No. I have come to seek mercy, and not justice." 
 
 " Permit me to inquire who you are ?" 
 
 " I am the daughter of Captain Mironoff." 
 
 " Captain Mironoff ! the one who commanded one of 
 the Orenburg fortresses ?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 The lady seemed moved. 
 
 " Excuse me," said she, in a still more friendly tone, 
 " if I meddle in your affairs ; but I am occasionally at 
 court : explain to me what your petition consists in, and 
 I may perhaps be able to help you." 
 
 Maria Ivanovna rose, and thanked her respectfully. 
 Everything about the unknown lady attracted her heart 
 involuntarily, and inspired her with confidence. She 
 took a folded paper from her pocket, and handed it to 
 her unknown protectress, who read it over to herself. 
 
 She perused it first with attention and interest ; but of 
 a sudden her face changed, and Maria Ivanovna, whose 
 eyes watched [all her movements, was startled by the 
 severe expression on that face, which, a moment before, 
 had been\so pleasant and calm. 
 
 "You petition for GriuefFT said the lady, coldly. 
 ' The empress cannot pardon him. He joined the pre- 
 tender, not from ignorance or credulity, but as a debased 
 and dangerous vagabond !" 
 
 " Oh ! it is not true !" exclaimed Maria Ivanovna. 
 
 " How not true ?" continued the lady, wrathfully. 
 
 " Not true I swear to God it is not true ! I know all, 
 and will tell you everything. It is for my sake alone 
 that he has subjected himself to all that has befallen
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 151 
 
 him. And if he has not justified himself before the 
 commission, it has only been because he has not wished 
 to introduce my name." 
 
 Here she narrated with warmth what my reader 
 already knows. 
 
 The lady listened attentively. 
 
 " Where are you staying ?" she asked, when Maria 
 Ivanovna had concluded ; and, upon learning that it was 
 at Anna Vlassievna's, added, with a smile " Ah ! I know. 
 Good-bye ; do not mention our meeting to any person. 
 I hope that you will not have to wait long for an answer 
 to your letter." 
 
 With these words she rose, and entered a covered 
 walk. Maria Ivanovna returned to Anna Vlassievna full 
 of hope. 
 
 Her hostess scolded her for taking so early a walk in 
 autumn so noxious, she said, to a young girl's health. 
 She brought in the samovar, and, sipping a cup of tea, 
 was just about to recommence her endless relations about 
 the court, when a court carriage stopped at the door, and 
 a chamber-groom entered with the announcement that 
 the empress was pleased to invite Maria Ivanovna 
 Mironoff to the palace. Anna Vlassievna became terribly 
 fidgety in her astonishment. 
 
 " Dear me !" she exclaimed : " the empress requires 
 you at court. How has she ever heard of you ? And 
 how are you, my dear, to appear before her majesty? 
 Me thinks you do not even know how to walk in court 
 fashion. Had I not better accompany you ? I could at 
 all events give you a hint occasionally. And how are
 
 152 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 you to go in your travelling dress ? Had we not better 
 send to the midwife for her yellow gown ?" 
 
 The chamber-groom said that her majesty had been 
 pleased to command that Maria Ivanovna should go 
 alone, and just as she was. There was no alternative. 
 Maria Ivanovna took her seat in the carriage, and drove 
 off, taking Anna Vlassievna's counsels and blessings. 
 
 Maria Ivanovna had a presentiment that our fate was 
 about to be decided ; her heart beat fast, and sank within 
 her. In a few minutes the carriage stopped at the palace. 
 Maria Ivanovna, much agitated, ascended the staircase. 
 The doors flew open before her. She passed through a 
 succession of gorgeous apartments, the chamber-groom 
 leading the way. They finally reached a closed door, 
 where he left her, with the assurance that she should be 
 immediately announced. 
 
 The prospect of being brought face to face with the 
 empress frightened her so much, that she found some 
 difficulty in supporting herself. The doors were opened, 
 and she entered her majesty's dressing-room. 
 
 The empress sat at her toilet-table, attended by several 
 ladies, who respectfully stood aside to make way for 
 Maria Ivanovna. The empress turned to her kindly, and 
 Maria Ivanovna recognized the lady with whom she had 
 but recently so freely conversed. She motioned her to 
 come nearer, and said, with a smile 
 
 " I am glad that I was able to keep my word, and 
 grant your request. Your business is settled. I am con- 
 vinced of your lover's innocence. Here is a letter, which 
 you will be good enough to deliver yourself into the 
 hands of your future father-in-law."
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. 153 
 
 Maria Ivanovna took the letter with a trembling hand, 
 and fell weeping at the empress's feet, who raised and 
 kissed her. 
 
 " I know that you are not rich," she said ; " but I must 
 acquit myself of a debt I owe to the daughter of Captain 
 Mironoff. Have no anxiety for the future. I take it 
 upon myself to provide for you." 
 
 Having reassured the poor orphan, the empress dis- 
 missed her. Maria Ivanovna returned in the same court- 
 carriage ; Anna Vlassievna, who was impatiently await- 
 ing her return, poured out question upon question, to 
 which Maria Ivanovna replied anyhow. Anna Vlas- 
 sievna was not pleased at her want of memory, but 
 ascribed it to her provincial shyness, and was generous 
 enough to excuse her. That same day Maria Ivanovna 
 left on her way homewards, without a thought even of 
 seeing Petersburg. 
 
 Here end the memoirs of Piotr Andrevitch Griueff. It 
 is asserted from family traditions that, by an edict signed 
 by the sovereign, he was liberated about the end of the 
 year 1774; that he was present at the execution of 
 Pougatcheff, who recognized him in the crowd, and 
 nodded to him with the head which, a few minutes later, 
 was held up bleeding to the people. Soon after, Piotr 
 Andrevitch and Maria Ivanovna were married. Their 
 descendants are settled in the government of Simbirsk. 
 
 Thirty versts from is a village, the property of 
 
 ten persons. In the house of one of the proprietors is
 
 154 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 shown, framed and glazed, an autograph letter of Cathe- 
 rine II. It is addressed to the father of Piotr Andrevitch, 
 and records the justification of his son, and eulogises the 
 intelligence and goodness of heart of the daughter of 
 Captain Mironoff.
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 
 
 THE possessions of Ivan Petrovitch Berestoff lay in one 
 of our remote provinces. He had served in the Guards 
 in his youth, but had retired early in the year 1797, and 
 settled on his property, which he never again quitted. 
 He had married a lady of noble birth, but in indigent 
 circumstances, who died in child-bed during his absence 
 when on a visit to one of his distant estates. He soon 
 found consolation in his house occupations. Having 
 built a house according to a design of his own, and 
 established a cloth manufactory, he put his money mat- 
 ters in order, and began to consider himself the cleverest 
 man in the place, an opinion which was never disputed 
 by his neighbours, who used to visit him accompanied by 
 their families and their dogs. He wore on week-days a 
 plush jacket, and on holidays a surtout of home-spun ; 
 he kept his own accounts, and read nothing but Tlie 
 Senate News. 
 
 He was generally liked, though people thought him 
 proud. It was only his nearest neighbour, Grigory 
 Ivanovitch Muromsky, who could not get on with him. 
 He was a thorough Russian country gentleman. Having 
 squandered at Moscow the greatest part of his fortune,
 
 156 KO'SSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 and having become a widower at about the same time, 
 he retired to one of his remaining estates, where he con- 
 tinued his extravagances, though they now took a differ- 
 ent course. He laid out an English garden, upon which 
 he wasted almost all that remained of his income. His 
 stable-boys were dressed as English jockeys. His daugh- 
 ter's governess was an Englishwoman. His agricultural 
 labours were conducted on the English principle. 
 
 But " Russian bread is not begotten of foreign culture," 
 and notwithstanding a considerable decrease in his ex- 
 penditure, the income of Grigory Ivanovitch did not 
 increase. He had found means to contract new debts, 
 though he lived in the country. Nevertheless, nobody 
 considered him a fool, for he was the first of the land- 
 owners in the province who thought of mortgaging his 
 property at the Court of Trustees, a transaction which 
 at that period was considered very hazardous. Amongst 
 those who censured him was Bere'stoff, who expressed 
 himself in the strongest terms. Hatred to innovations 
 formed a prominent trait in his character. He could not 
 speak with equanimity of his neighbour's Anglomania, 
 and sought every opportunity to criticize him. If he 
 chanced to show a guest over his premises, and if his 
 household arrangements elicited approbation, he was sure 
 to say, with a malicious smile : " Oh ! yes ; my place is 
 not like my neighbour's, Grigory Ivanovitch 's. How 
 could we squander after the English fashion ! We are 
 thankful if we can manage to keep off hunger in the 
 B-ussian way!" These and such like sarcasms came to 
 Grigory Ivanovitch's knowledge, exaggerated and embel-
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 157 
 
 lished according to the tale-bearer's zeal. The Anglomane 
 stood criticism as badly as our own journalists do. He 
 raged, and called his calumniator a bear and a provin- 
 cial ist. 
 
 This was the footing they were upon when Berestoff's 
 son arrived. He had been brought up at the Uni- 
 versity, and intended entering the army ; but his father 
 would not give his consent. For the Civil Service the 
 young man had no taste. Neither would give in, and the 
 young Aleksey in the meanwhile led the life of a private 
 gentleman, having, however, allowed his moustache* to 
 grow, ready for any emergency. 
 
 Aleksey was really a good fellow, and it would have 
 been a pity indeed were his well-proportioned figure 
 never to be seen in a uniform, and were he, instead of 
 showing himself off on horseback, to spend his youth 
 bending over office-papers. The neighbours who saw 
 him lead on the hunting-field, reckless of the way he 
 followed, all agreed in saying that he would never turn 
 out a creditable head of a department. All the young 
 ladies watched him, and sometimes would take a furtive 
 look at him ; but Aleksey took little notice of them, and 
 they attributed his indifference to some love affair. The 
 copy of the address on one of his letters was actually 
 being handed about amongst them: "To Akulina Pe- 
 
 D o 
 
 trovna Kourotchkin, Moscow, opposite the Aleksey 
 Monastery, in the house of the coppersmith Savelieff, 
 
 * Formerly in Kussia the military only were allowed to wear 
 moustaches. Tr.
 
 158 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 and you are humbly requested to forward this letter to 
 
 A. N. R" 
 
 Such of my readers as may not have lived in the 
 country, cannot imagine how captivating are these pro- 
 vincial young ladies. Brought up breathing the purest 
 air under the shade of their orchard trees, they only 
 draw their knowledge of life and of the world from 
 books. Solitude, freedom, and their love of reading, 
 develop in them early feelings and passions which are 
 unknown to our worldly beauties. The very sound of a 
 carriage-bell is an event to them ; a sojourn in the neigh- 
 bouring town is considered an epoch in their existence, 
 and the visit of a guest leaves behind it long, and occa- 
 sionally everlasting reminiscences. Everybody is, of 
 course, at liberty to jeer at some of their peculiarities ; 
 but the ridicule of a superficial observer cannot do 
 away with their existing good qualities, the chief of 
 which is independence of character, without which, 
 in Jean Paul's opinion, no human greatness exists. 
 Women may possibly receive better education in the 
 capitals, but intercourse with the world soon assimilates 
 characters and renders their souls as uniform as their 
 head-dresses. This is said neither in judgment nor in re- 
 proach ; however, nota nostra manet, as has written an 
 old commentator. 
 
 It is easy to imagine the impression produced by 
 Aleksey on our young ladies. It was he who first 
 appeared before them gloomy and disenchanted ; who 
 
 - first spoke to them of wasted joys, and of his withered 
 youth ; he also wore a mourning ring with a death's
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 159 
 
 head. All this was something quite new in the province, 
 and the girls were losing their senses. 
 
 But Lisa (or Betsy, as Grigory Ivanovitch generally 
 called her), the daughter of my Anglomane, was more 
 taken up with him than was anybody else. Their 
 fathers did not visit, and she had not even seen Aleksey 
 when he had already become the subject of conversation 
 of all her young neighbours. She was seventeen. Her 
 black eyes lit up her dark and very agreeable face. She 
 was an only, and consequently a spoilt, child. Her high 
 spirits and her constant humour enraptured her father, 
 and distracted her governess, Miss Jackson, a conceited 
 spinster of forty, who painted her face and eyebrows, 
 read " Pamela " twice a year, received the sum of two 
 thousand roubles, and who felt bored to death in that 
 barbarous Russia. 
 
 Lisa was waited upon by Nastia, who, though a little 
 older, was quite as giddy as her mistress. Lisa was very 
 fond of her, confiding to her all her secrets, and arranging 
 with her all her little plans ; in a word, Nastia was a 
 much more important personage on the Anossoff estate 
 than could be any one confidante in a French tragedy. 
 
 " May I go out to-day ?" asked Nastia upon one 
 occasion, whilst dressing her mistress. 
 " Certainly where ?" 
 
 " To Tugilevo, to the Berestofis. It is the Saint's-day 
 of their cook's wife, and she came yesterday to invite us 
 to dinner." 
 
 " Is that it ?" said Lisa : " the masters are at enmity, 
 and the servants entertain each other !"
 
 160 KUSSIAX ROMANCE. 
 
 " And what have the masters got to do with it ?" 
 replied Nastia ; " besides, I belong to you, and not to 
 your father, and you and young Berestoff have not yet 
 managed to fall out : let the old people fight it out if it 
 pleases them." 
 
 " Do endeavour, Nastia, to see Aleksey Berestoff, and 
 tell me what he is like, and what kind of person he is." ' 
 Nastia promised ; and Lisa spent the day impatiently 
 awaiting her return. In the evening, Nastia appeared. 
 
 "Well, Lisaveta Grig<5rievna," said she on entering 
 the room, "I saw young Berestoff, and looked at him to 
 my heart's content; we were all day together." 
 
 " How was that ? tell me, tell me everything as it 
 occurred!" 
 
 "If you please, then; we went, I, Anisia, Egorovna, 
 
 Nenila, Dunka 
 
 " All right, I know ; well, after that T 
 " Allow me, I want to tell you everything as it occurred. 
 We arrived just in time for dinner. The room was full 
 of people. There were the Kolbiusky, the Zaharevsky, 
 
 the clerk's wife with her daughters, the Krupiusky " 
 
 "Well! and Berestoff?" 
 
 " Please to wait. So we sat down to dinner, the clerk's 
 wife at the post of honour, I next to her the daughters 
 
 sulked ; but much I care about them " 
 
 " Dear me, Nastia, how tiresome thou always art with 
 thy endless particulars !" 
 
 " But you are so very impatient ! Well, then, we got 
 up from table and we had sat there three hours, and 
 the dinner was splendid ; we had for sweets, blue, red,
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 161 
 
 and striped blancmange. On leaving the table, we went 
 into the garden to have a game at catch- play, and there 
 the young master joined us." 
 
 " Well ! is it true that he is good-looking ?" 
 
 " Wonderfully good-looking handsome, one may say. 
 Erect, tall, with such a colour " 
 
 " Really ? and I always thought that he was pale. 
 Well ? what did he look like ? Sad pensive ?" 
 
 " Dear, no ! I have never met with any one more lively 
 than he is. He took it into his head to join in the game 
 with us." 
 
 " To join in the game with you ! Impossible !" 
 
 " Very possible. And what is more, he would catch 
 and kiss us !" 
 
 " Say what thou wilt, Nastia, it is a story." 
 
 " Indeed, it is not. I could hardly get rid of him. He 
 would spend the whole day with us/' 
 
 " How is it, then, people say he is in love, and will 
 look at no one ?" 
 
 " I do not know ; as to myself he looked even too much 
 at me, as also at Tania, and the clerk's daughter, and at 
 Pasha Kolbiusky also ; and, truth to say, he offended no 
 one he is so indulgent." 
 
 " Now you surprise me ! And what do they say of 
 him at home ?" 
 
 " They say he is a capital gentleman so good, so 
 cheerful. One thing only is amiss he likes running 
 after the girls too much. But, in my opinion, that is no 
 great harm : he will sober down in time." 
 
 11
 
 162 SUSS I AN ROMANCE. 
 
 " How much I should like to see him !" said Lisa, witli 
 a sigh. 
 
 " Why, where is the difficulty ? Tugilevo is not far 
 from us three versts only : take a walk or a ride in that 
 direction ; you are sure to meet him. He goes out daily, 
 early in the morning, with his gun." 
 
 " No, that would not do. He might fancy that I am run- 
 ning after him. Besides, our fathers are not on good terms, 
 so that anyhow I cannot make his acquaintance. But, 
 Nastia ! shall I tell thee what ? I shall dress as a peasant 
 girl!" 
 
 " Why, certainly : put on a coarse shirt, and a sarafan* 
 and go boldly to Tugilevo. I'll be bound Bere'stoff will 
 not pass you by." 
 
 " And I can so well imitate the peasants, as they speak 
 here. Oh, Nastia ! dear Nastia ! what a glorious idea I" 
 
 And Lisa laid herself down to sleep, fully intending to 
 carry out her lively project. She set about to mature her 
 plans, and the very next morning sent to the market for 
 some coarse linen, blue nankeen, and brass buttons, cut 
 out a shirt and sarafan, with the help of Nastia, and put 
 all the female servants to work, so that everything was 
 ready when evening came. Lisa tried on her new finery, 
 and was obliged to confess before her looking-glass that 
 she had never yet seen herself to such advantage. She 
 rehearsed her part, bowed low when walking, and shook 
 her head several times, in imitation of plaster-of-Paris 
 cats, speaking the peasant dialect, and covering her face 
 with her sleeve when laughing, all of which elicited 
 * The national female dress. Tr.
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 1G3 
 
 Nastia's complete approbation. There was but one draw- 
 back : she endeavoured to cross the yard barefooted, but 
 the thorns pricked her tender feet, and the sand and 
 stones she found unbearable. Nastia came to her aid 
 here also : she measured Lisa's foot, and hurried off to the 
 fields to the shepherd Trophim, to whom she gave an 
 order for a pair of bark-shoes, according to the measure 
 delivered. Day had dawned on the morrow, and Lisa 
 was already awake. The whole house slept. Nastia was 
 awaiting the shepherd at the gate. The horn sounded, 
 and the village herds were driven past her master's house. 
 Trophim, on seeing Nastia, gave her a pair of small parti- 
 coloured bark-shoes, receiving in recompense a half rouble. 
 Lisa quietly proceeded to attire herself as a peasant, and, 
 having in a whisper given Nastia some directions respect- 
 ing Miss Jackson, slipped through the back gate and ran 
 across the kitchen-garden into the fields. 
 
 The sky was lighting up in the east, and the golden 
 tiers of clouds appeared to await the sun as courtiers 
 await their sovereign ; the clear sky, the morning fresh- 
 ness, the dew, the slight breeze, and the singing of birds, 
 filled Lisa's heart with childish delight ; the fear of 
 encountering a familiar face seemed to give her wings. 
 On reaching the limits of her father's property, she 
 slackened her pace. It was here that she was to wait for 
 Aleksey. Her heart beat fast, she knew not why ; but 
 do not the very apprehensions which are associated with 
 our youthful frolics constitute their principal charm ? 
 Lisa had now penetrated into the densest part of the 
 wood. Its dull repeating murmur seemed to welcome the 
 
 112
 
 164 KUSS1AN ROMANCE. 
 
 young girl. Her mirth became less buoyant. She fell 
 little by little into a sweet reverie. She thought but is 
 it possible to define accurately the thoughts of a young 
 lady of seventeen who is alone in a wood at five o'clock 
 on a spring morning ? She walked thus pensively along 
 a road shadowed on both sides by tall trees, when she 
 was suddenly startled by the bark of a sportsman's 
 beautiful dog. Lisa screamed with alarm. A voice was 
 
 heard at the same moment, Tout beau, Sbogar ici and a 
 
 young sportsman appeared from behind some bushes. 
 
 " Do not be afraid, my dear," said he to Lisa ; " my 
 dog does not bite." 
 
 Lisa had already found time to recover from her fright, 
 and knew how to take advantage of such an opportunity. 
 
 "But, sir," said she, feigning to be partly shy and 
 partly frightened, " I am afraid ; look, she is a wicked 
 one, she might fly again." 
 
 Aleksey (my reader has already recognized him) was 
 in the meantime eying narrowly the young peasant girl. 
 
 " I shall escort thee, if thou art afraid," said he ; " thou 
 wilt let me walk by thee, wilt thou not ?" 
 
 " Who hinders thee ?" answered Lisa ; " freedom is for 
 the free, and the road is public." 
 
 " Where dost thou come from ?" 
 
 " From Prilutchino ; I am the daughter of Vasily, the 
 blacksmith, and I am going to gather mushrooms/' 
 
 Lisa was carrying a bark-basket suspended by a cord. 
 
 "And thou, sir ? thou art from Tugilevo, I suppose ?" 
 
 " I am, indeed," said Aleksey, " I am the young master's 
 valet."
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 16S 
 
 Aleksey wished to assimilate their positions. But Lisa 
 looked at him and burst out in a laugh. 
 
 " Thou art telling a story," said she ; " but it is not a 
 fool thou hast got hold of. I can see that thou art the 
 master himself." 
 
 " What makes thee think so T 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " But ?" 
 
 " Well, how is it possible not to distinguish the servant 
 from the master ? Thy dress is different, thou speakest 
 differently, and thou even callest the dog in an outlandish 
 way." 
 
 Aleksey fancied Lisa more and more, and not being 
 accustomed to stand upon ceremony with young country 
 girls, he was about to embrace her, but Lisa jumped 
 aside, and assumed suddenly such a severe and freezing 
 look, that Aleksey was amused ; it kept him from any 
 further attempts. 
 
 "If you wish that we should remain friends hence- 
 forth," said she, with importance, "you must, please, not 
 forget yourself." 
 
 " Who taught thee so much wisdom ?" said Aleksey, 
 with a laugh. "Can it be my friend, Nastinka, your 
 young mistress's maid ? Is that the way civilization 
 travels ?" 
 
 Lisa felt that she had overdone her part, and corrected 
 herself immediately. 
 
 " And what dost thou fancy ?" said she : " thinkest 
 thou that I have never been in a gentleman's house ? 
 No fear ; I have seen and heard most things. However,"
 
 166 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 she continued, "it is not in talking to thee that I shall 
 find mushrooms. Thou, sir, must go one way, and I 
 another. Fare thee well." 
 
 Lisa was about to withdraw. 
 
 Aleksey seized her hand. " What is thy name, my 
 soul ?" 
 
 " Akulina !" answered Lisa, endeavouring to free her 
 fingers from Aleksey's grasp. " Let go, sir ; it is time for 
 me to be running home." 
 
 " Well, my friend Akulina, I shall certainly come and 
 see thy father, Vasily the blacksmith." 
 
 " What next ?" replied Lisa quickly : " for Heaven's 
 sake do not come. It will go badly with me, if they find 
 out at home that I have been taking a walk in the woods 
 with a gentleman ; my father, Yasily the blacksmith, 
 will beat me to death." 
 
 " But I must see thee again, without fail." 
 
 "Well, then, may be I shall come again to gather 
 mushrooms some day." 
 
 " When ?" 
 
 " Well, say to-morrow." 
 
 " Dear Akulina, I would kiss thee, but dare not. To- 
 morrow, then, about this time, eh T 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 " Thou wilt not deceive me ?" 
 
 " I shall not." 
 
 "Swear that thou wilt not." 
 
 " Well then, by Holy Friday, I shall come." 
 
 The young people separated. Lisa went out of the 
 wood, scampered across the fields, stole into the garden,
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 167 
 
 and ran headlong towards the farm, where Nastia was 
 awaiting her. There she changed her dress, gave discon- 
 nected answers to the questions of her impatient confi- 
 dante, and proceeded to the drawing-room. The table 
 was laid, breakfast ready, and Miss Jackson, already 
 painted and laced in until her figure assumed the shape 
 of a wine-glass, was cutting thin slices of bread and butter. 
 Her father praised her for taking an early walk. 
 
 " There is nothing healthier," said he, " than to rise 
 with the dawn." And he thereupon cited several 
 instances of human longevity, taken from English 
 journals, remarking that none of those who had lived 
 over a century had been addicted to spirits, and that they 
 all rose at daybreak in winter as in summer. 
 
 Lisa did not listen to him. She was mentally review- 
 ing all the circumstances attending her morning meeting 
 and the entire conversation of Akulina with the young 
 sportsman, and her conscience began to smite her. It 
 was in vain that she tried to persuade herself that the 
 nature of their interview had not exceeded the bounds of 
 propriety, that her frolic could have no consequences 
 whatever, her conscience spoke louder than her reason. 
 The promise she had made for the next day tormented 
 her more than anything, and she was all but determined 
 not to keep to her solemn oath. But might not Aleksey, 
 after vainly expecting her, go into the village, and find 
 Vasily the blacksmith's daughter, the real Akulina, a fat, 
 pock-marked girl, and thus obtain a clue to her thought, 
 less artifice ? This idea horrified Lisa, and she made up her 
 inind to appear in the wood as Akulina, the next morning.
 
 168 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 At to Aleksey, he was enchanted ; he spent the whole 
 day thinking of his new acquaintance ; the image of the 
 dark beauty haunted his imagination even at night. It 
 was barely dawn, and he was already dressed. He did 
 not wait to load his gun, but went into the fields accom- 
 panied by his faithful Sbogar, and hurried to the trysting- 
 place. Nearly half an hour was spent in insupportable 
 expectation ; at last he caught a glimpse of a blue sarafan 
 in the bushes, and rushed to welcome his dear Akulina. 
 She smiled at his enraptured show of gratitude; but 
 Aleksey at once noticed that her face bore traces of sad- 
 ness and anxiety. He insisted upon knowing the cause. 
 
 Lisa avowed that she considered'her conduct imprudent, 
 that she repented, that she did not wish to fail in her 
 promise this time, but that this meeting was to be their 
 last, and she begged him to break off an acquaintance 
 which could be productive of no good. All this was of 
 course said in the provincial dialect, but the ideas and 
 feelings, so uncommon in a simple country girl, struck 
 Aleksey with astonishment. He exhausted all his elo- 
 quence in endeavouring to deter Akulina from her 
 decision ; he assured her of the purity of his intentions, 
 promised never to give her cause for repentance, to sub- 
 mit to her in all things, and implored her not to deprive 
 him of the one joy that of seeing her alone, were it but 
 every other day, but twice a week. He spoke in the 
 language of true passion, and was at that moment really 
 in love. 
 
 Lisa listened in silence. "Promise me," said she at 
 last, " that thou wilt never seek me in the village never
 
 THE LAD Y-B USTIC. 169- 
 
 inquire after me. Promise me not to look for other 
 meetings but those which I shall myself assign." 
 
 Aleksey was about to swear by Holy Friday, but she 
 stopped him with a smile. ' I do not require oaths," 
 said Lisa, " thy word is sufficient." 
 
 After that they walked about in the wood in friendly 
 conversation, until Lisa said : " It is time." They parted, 
 and Aleksey, when left alone, could not understand how 
 a simple country girl had contrived in two meetings to 
 possess such influence over him. His intercourse with 
 Akulina contained all the charms of novelty, and although 
 the restrictions imposed by the strange maiden seemed 
 burdensome, the idea of breaking his word never entered 
 his head. The fact was, that in spite of his ominous ring, 
 his mysterious correspondence, and his gloomy disenchant- 
 ment, Aleksey was a good and ardent youth, with a pure 
 heart, capable of innocent enjoyments. 
 
 Were I to follow my inclinations, I would here cer- 
 tainly give a detailed account of how the young people 
 met, of their growing attachment and confidence in each 
 other, and of their occupations and discourse ; but I am 
 aware that the greatest portion of my readers would not 
 share this pleasure with me. As a rule these details are 
 nauseating, and I shall therefore pass them over and re- 
 mark briefly, that two months had scarcely gone by before 
 my Aleksey was hopelessly in love, and Lisa, though 
 more reserved than he, not more indifferent. They were 
 both happy in the present, and cared but little for the 
 future. 
 
 The thought of inseparable ties had crossed their minds.
 
 170 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 more than once ; but they had never hinted at it to each 
 other. The reason is obvious: however much attached 
 to his dear Akulina Aleksey might have been, he could 
 not forget the distance which separated him from a poor 
 country girl. Lisa, on her part, knew of the enmity 
 which existed between their fathers, and dared not hope 
 for a mutual reconciliation. Besides, her vanity was 
 secretly stimulated by the fanciful hope of at last seeing 
 the owner of Tugilevo at the feet of the Prilutchina 
 blacksmith's daughter. 
 
 An important event suddenly threatened to interrupt 
 their mutual relations. 
 
 On a clear cold morning (one of those in which our 
 Russian autumn abounds) Ivan Petrovitch Berestoff went 
 out for a ride, taking with him three couples of sporting 
 dogs, a groom, and several stable boys, provided with, 
 rattles. Grigory Ivanovitch Muromsky, tempted by the 
 brightness of the weather, ordered his short-tailed mare 
 to be saddled, and at about the same hour rode out at a 
 trot round his Anglicized domain. On nearing the wood 
 he noticed his neighbour, who sat his horse proudly in 
 an overcoat lined with fox-fur, on the look-out for a hare 
 which the boys were hunting out of the thicket with 
 their shouts and rattles. Had Grigory Ivanovitch been 
 able to foresee this encounter, he would certainly have 
 turned back ; but he had come upon Berestoff quite un- 
 expectedly, and was now within pistol-shot of him. 
 There was no help for it; Muromsky, like a well-bred 
 European, rode up to his enemy, and politely addressed 
 him. Berestoff replied with something of the zeal a
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 171 
 
 chained bear displays when ordered by his keeper to 
 make his bow to the public. At that moment a hare 
 leapt out of the thicket and ran off into the fields. 
 Bere'stoff and the groom shouted with all their might ; 
 they loosed the dogs, and followed* at full speed. 
 Muromsky's horse, unaccustomed to the chase, started 
 and ran away with him. Muromsky, who considered 
 himself a good horseman, loosened the reins, and was 
 secretly congratulating himself upon such an opportunity 
 for freeing himself from an undesirable companion. But 
 having gone as far as a ravine which it had not hitherto 
 noticed, his horse suddenly swerved and unseated its 
 rider. Having fallen rather heavily on the frozen ground, 
 he lay cursing his short-tailed mare, which, as if coming 
 to her senses, stopped so soon as she became aware of the 
 removal of her burden. Ivan Petrovitch rode up to him, 
 inquiring whether he were hurt. The groom, having in 
 the meantime secured the peccant horse, led it by the 
 bridle. He assisted Muromsky into his saddle, and 
 Berestoff invited him to his house. Muromsky could not 
 refuse, feeling that he was under an obligation, and it 
 was thus that Berestoff returned home full of honours, 
 having hunted down a hare, and leading his wounded 
 adversary, almost like a prisoner of war. 
 
 The two neighbours breakfasted together, conversing 
 in quite a friendly way. Muromsky asked Berestoff for 
 his droskhy, acknowledging that he was unable to ride 
 home after his fall. Berestoff saw him himself over the 
 threshold, and Muromsky would not take his leave until 
 he had exacted the promise that he and Aleksey Ivano-
 
 172 JiVSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 vitch would dine at Prilutchino the very next day. In 
 this manner an old and deeply rooted enmity seemed 
 about to be brought to an end through the shyness of a 
 short-tailed mare. 
 
 Lisa rushed out to meet Grigory Ivanovitch. " What 
 does this mean, papa ?" asked she in surprise : " what 
 makes you lame ? Where is your horse, and whose 
 drosliky is this ?" 
 
 " That is what thou wilt never guess, my dear," replied 
 Grigory Ivanovitch, and he then related to her what had 
 occurred. Lisa could not believe her ears. Grigory 
 Ivanovitch, without giving her time to recover from her 
 surprise, informed her that both the Berestoffs were to 
 dine with them on the morrow. 
 
 " What are you saying !" exclaimed she, turning pale : 
 " the Berestoffs, father and son, dine with us to-morrow ! 
 No, papa, you may please yourself, but nothing will make 
 me show myself." 
 
 " Art thou out of tliy senses ?" replied her father. 
 '' How long is it since thou hast become so shy ? or dost 
 thou nurse an hereditary hatred like a heroine of ro- 
 mance ? Come, don't be silly." 
 
 " No, papa, nothing on earth, no treasure in the world, 
 will persuade me to appear before the Berestoffs !" 
 
 Grigory Ivanovitch shrugged his shoulders, and know- 
 ing that nothing was to be gained by contradicting her, 
 ceased the discussion, and retired to rest after his eventful 
 ride. 
 
 Lisave'ta Grigorievna went into her own room, and 
 called Nastia. They conferred long together on the ap-
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 173 
 
 preaching visit. "What would Aleksey think were he to re- 
 cognize his Akulina in a well-educated young lady ? What 
 opinion would he form of her conduct, of her principles, 
 of her good sense ? On the other hand, Lisa was anxious 
 to see what impression such an unexpected meeting 
 would produce. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind. 
 She hastened to communicate it to Nastia ; both exulted 
 at the idea, and they made up their minds to carry out 
 the plan without fail. 
 
 Grigory Ivanovitch inquired of his daughter the fol- 
 lowing day at breakfast whether she still intended to 
 conceal herself from the Berestoffs. 
 
 " Papa," answered Lisa, " I shall receive them if you 
 wish it, but upon one condition that, whatever my 
 appearance, whatever I may do, you will not scold rne, 
 nor show any sign of surprise or displeasure." 
 
 " Some new freak !" said Grigory Ivanovitch, laughing. 
 " Well, all right, I consent ; do what thou wilt, my black- 
 eyed little rogue." 
 
 With these words he kissed her on the forehead, and 
 Lisa ran off to make ready. 
 
 At two o'clock precisely, a home-built coach, drawn by 
 six horses, drove up to the door, round the green lawn in 
 front of it. The old Bere'stofF alighted with the aid of 
 two of Muromsky's liveried servants. His son had fol- 
 lowed him on horseback, and together they entered the 
 dining-room, where the cloth was already laid. Muromsky 
 received his guests in the most friendly manner, and 
 having proposed a turn in the garden before dinner, and 
 a look at the park, led the way along the carefully swept
 
 174 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 and gravelled walks. The old Berestoff was mentally 
 lamenting the labour and time lost on such unprofitable 
 fancies, but considerately kept his thoughts to himself. 
 His son did not participate either in the disapprobation 
 of the practical landowner, or in the enthusiasm of the 
 vain Anglomane ; he was impatiently awaiting the ap- 
 psarance of his host's daughter, of whom he had heard 
 much, and though his heart was, as we know, already 
 full, youth and beauty still influenced his imagination. 
 
 Upon their return to the drawing-room, the three 
 seated themselves ; and while the old gentlemen revived 
 reminiscences of the past days, and recapitulated anec- 
 dotes having reference to their services, Aleksey was 
 musing upon what part he had best enact in the presence 
 of Lisa. He decided that cold indifference was under all 
 circumstances the best suited. The door was opened ; he 
 turned his head with so much nonchalance, such cold 
 carelessness, that the heart of the most inveterate coquette 
 would have been set beating. But ill luck would have it 
 that instead of Lisa there entered old Miss Jackson, who, 
 painted and laced in, made a slight curtsey with lowered 
 eyes, and Aleksey's manly military bow was lost upon 
 her. He had no time to prepare for a new effort, for the 
 door was again opened^ and this time Lisa walked in. 
 All rose ; her father was about to introduce his guests, 
 when he suddenly checked himself, and bit his lip. Lisa, 
 his dark Lisa, was painted to her eyebrows, and rouged 
 to an extent which outdid Miss Jackson herself: false 
 curls, much lighter than her own hair, were arranged after 
 the model of a Louis XIV. wig; sleeves, a I' imbecile
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 175- 
 
 stuck out like Madame de Pompadour's hoops ; her waist 
 was contracted into the shape of the letter X, and those 
 of her mother's diamonds which had escaped being pawned 
 sparkled on her fingers, her neck, and in her ears. 
 Aleksey could not possibly have recognized his Akulina 
 under this ridiculous and gorgeous disguise. His father 
 kissed her hand, and he, though vexed, followed his ex- 
 ample ; he fancied that the small white fingers trembled 
 as he touched them, and he at the same time noticed her 
 small foot, which was coquettishly shoe-strung and de- 
 signedly thrust out. This somewhat reconciled him to 
 the rest of her attire. As to the white and rouge we 
 must avow that in the innocency of his heart he at first 
 did not notice, and never afterwards suspected such a 
 thing. Grigory Ivanovitch recollected his promise, and 
 endeavoured not to .show even a symptom of astonish- 
 ment ; but his daughter's joke appeared so ludicrous, that 
 he could scarcely refrain from laughing. It did not, how- 
 ever, excite the risible faculties of the prime English- 
 woman. She conjectured that the paints were produced 
 from her drawers, and a deep blush of vexation was 
 visible through the artificial whiteness of her face. She 
 cast angry glances at the young offender, who, putting off 
 all explanations to a more suitable occasion, did as if she 
 saw them not. 
 
 They sat down to dinner. Aleksey continued absent 
 and thoughtful. Lisa looked prim, spoke through her 
 teeth in a drawling voice, and only in French. Her father 
 was watching her incessantly, not comprehending her 
 object, but finding it all very amusing. The English-
 
 176 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 woman was wrathful and silent. Ivan Petrovitch alone 
 was thoroughly at his ease ; he ate for two, drank pro- 
 fusely, enjoyed his own merriment, conversing more freely 
 and laughing with more zest from hour to hour. 
 
 At last they rose ; the guests took their leave, and 
 Grigory Ivanovitch gave free vent to his laughter and to 
 his questionings. 
 
 " What put it into thy head to make fools of them ?" 
 he inquired of Lisa. " But shall I tell thee what ? White 
 paint really suits thee. I do not wish to pry into the 
 secrets of a lady's toilette, but were I in thy place I 
 would always use paint of course not immoderately, but 
 just a little." 
 
 Lisa was delighted at the success of her scheme. She 
 embraced her father, promised to consider his advice, and 
 ran off to pacify the irritated Miss Jackson, whom she 
 with difficulty prevailed upon to open the door, and to 
 listen to her justification. Lisa was ashamed to appear 
 with such a dark complexion before a stranger ; she dared 
 not ask she felt sure that dear, kind Miss Jackson 
 would forgive her, &c., &c. Miss Jackson, being satisfied 
 that Lisa had not meant to ridicule her, was appeased, 
 kissed her, and in token of reconciliation presented her 
 with a small pot of English paint, which Lisa accepted 
 with a show of sincere gratitude. 
 
 My reader will guess that Lisa was not slow in seeking 
 the meeting-place in the wood on the following morning. 
 
 " Thou wentest to our master's last night, sir," said she 
 to Aleksey immediately. " What dost thou think of our 
 young mistress ?"
 
 THE LAD Y-R US TIC. 177 
 
 Aleksey replied that he had not taken notice of her. 
 
 " What a pity S" said Lisa. 
 
 " And why ?" was his question. 
 
 " Because I wanted to know whether what they say is 
 true." 
 
 " And what do they say ?" 
 
 " Is what they say true, that I am like her ?" 
 
 " What nonsense ! Why, she is a perfect fright com- 
 pared to thee." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! what a shame to talk like that ! Our young 
 mistress is so fair, dresses so beautifully. How is it 
 possible to compare me to her V 
 
 Aleksey swore that she was prettier than all the fair 
 ladies put together ; and, anxious to reassure her, he be- 
 gan to describe her mistress in such ridiculous colours 
 that it made Lisa laugh heartily. 
 
 "But," said she, with a sigh, "however absurd our 
 mistress may be, still I am an unlettered dunce compared 
 to her." 
 
 " Oh I" said Aleksey, " much there is to be unhappy 
 about ! Why, if thou wishest it, I will teach thee to 
 read." 
 
 " Why should I not indeed try ?" said Lisa. 
 
 " All right, my dear, let us begin at once." 
 
 They sat down. Aleksey drew out his pocket-book 
 and pencil, and Akulina learned the alphabet with sur- 
 prising facility. Aleksey could not sufficiently wonder 
 at her aptness. The next morning she wished to learn 
 to write. The pencil would not at first obey her, but in 
 a few moments she formed her letters pretty fairly. 
 
 12
 
 178 RUSSIAN SOMANCE. 
 
 " What a wonder !" Aleksey would say ; " why, we learn 
 more quickly than if we had followed Lancaster's system." 
 And in truth, at her third lesson, Lisa was able to spell 
 " Natalia, the Boyar's daughter/' intermixing with her 
 reading remarks which truly surprised Aleksey, and she 
 filled a sheet of paper with extracts from the same story. 
 
 A week elapsed, and they began to correspond. A 
 hollow in an old oak served as their post-office. Nastia 
 was fulfilling the duties of postman on the sly. Aleksey 
 used to deposit his half- text epistles, and find the hiero- 
 glyphics of his beloved one written on common blue 
 paper. Akulina was rapidly acquiring a more elegant 
 mode of expressing herself, and her mind was evidently 
 being developed and instructed. 
 
 The reconciliation between Ivan Petrovitch Berestoff 
 and Grigory Ivanovitch Muromsky had in the meantime 
 progressed to intimacy, and at last ripened into friend- 
 ship under the following circumstances : Muromsky often 
 mused on the fact that all Ivan Petr6vitch's property 
 would at his death pass on to Aleksey Ivanovitch, that 
 Aleksey Ivanovitch would thus become one of the richest 
 landowners in the province, and such being the case there 
 could be no reason why he should not marry Lisa. The 
 old Bere'stoff, on his part, although aware of his neigh- 
 bour's peculiarities (or, as he termed them, English follies), 
 did not for all that ignore his many good qualities. For 
 instance : his rare abilities ; Grigory Ivanovitch was 
 nearly related to Count Pronsky, a well-known and in- 
 fluential man ; the count might be of service to Aleksey ; 
 and Muromsky (so thought Ivan Petrovitch) would surely
 
 THE LADY-RUSTIC. 179 
 
 be glad of the opportunity of having his daughter so 
 comfortably settled. The old people thought over the 
 project so frequently in their own minds, that they at 
 last exchanged their views, embraced each other, pro- 
 raised to make matters straight, and set-to maturing 
 their plans, each after his own fashion. Muromsky fore- 
 saw a difficulty ; he would have to persuade his Betsy 
 to become better acquainted with Aleksey, whom she 
 had not met since the memorable dinner. He fancied 
 they did not much care for each other ; at least Aleksey 
 had never again called at Priluchino, and Lisa withdrew 
 whenever Ivan Petrovitch would honour them with a 
 visit. " Well," thought Grigory Ivanovitch, " if I could 
 get Aleksey to come here every day, Lisa must end by 
 falling in love with him. That is in the course of nature. 
 Time will do the rest." 
 
 Ivan Petrovitch was less uneasy about the success of 
 his plans. He called his son into his study that same 
 evening, lit his pipe, and after a pause, said, " Methinks ifc 
 is a long time, Alyosha*, since thou hast last talked of 
 entering the army. Or has the Hussar's uniform lost its 
 attractions ?" 
 
 " No, my father," answered Aleksey reverently, " I see 
 it is not your wish that I should join the Hussars ; it is 
 my duty to obey you." 
 
 " That's right," answered Ivan Petrovitch ; " I see thou 
 art an obedient son : that is a consolation. I on my part 
 do not wish to stand in thy way : I do not wish to hurry 
 
 * Pet name for Aleksey. Tr. 
 
 122
 
 180 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 thee to enter the Civil Service at once ; in the meanwhile, 
 I should like thee to marry." 
 
 " Whom, my father ?" inquired the astonished Aleksey. 
 
 "Elisave'ta Grigorievna Muromsky," answered Ivan 
 Petrovitch. "What a bride! eh?" 
 
 " Father, I have not as yet thought of marriage." 
 
 " Thou hast not thought ! that is why I have thought 
 for thee." 
 
 " As you please, but I do not like Lisa Muromsky." 
 
 " Thou wilt like her by-and-by. Habit will bring the 
 liking with it." 
 
 " But I feel incapable of making her happy." 
 
 " Her happiness need not trouble thee. What ! is this 
 the way thou respectest thy father's wishes ? Very 
 well." 
 
 " As you please, but I do not wish to marry, and I 
 shall not marry." 
 
 " Thou shalt marry, or I shall disinherit thee, and as to 
 
 the estates, by , I shall sell or squander them away, 
 
 and shall not leave thee the fraction of a kopeck. I give 
 thee three days to think it over, and do not thou dare to 
 come to me in the meanwhile." 
 
 Aleksey knew that when his father took a thing into 
 his head, not even a nail, as Taras Skotinine* has it, 
 would drive it out ; but Aleksey took after his father, 
 and was quite as difficult to overcome. He retired to his 
 room and meditated upon the limits to a parent's will, 
 upon Elisaveta Grigorievna, upon his father's solemn 
 threat to make a beggar of him, and finally he thought 
 
 * A character in Von-Visen's comedy " Nedorosl." Tr.
 
 THE LAD Y-R USTIC. 181 
 
 of Akulina. He felt for the first time clearly that he 
 was passionately in love with her : the romantic idea of 
 marrying a country girl, and earning his own living, 
 flashed across his mind, and the more he dwelt upon such 
 a project, the more reasonable it appeared. The meetings 
 in the wood had not been continued for some time in con- 
 sequence of wet weather. He wrote a distracted letter 
 to Akulina, in an easily legible hand, informing her of 
 the evil which threatened them, and offering his hand. 
 He at once deposited the letter in their post-office, and 
 retired to rest perfectly at ease. 
 
 Firm in his decision, Aleksey rode over to Muromsky's 
 early on the following morning, to inform him frankly of 
 his intentions. He hoped to excite his sympathy, and to 
 gain him over. 
 
 " Is Grigory Ivanovitch. at home ?" asked he, pulling up 
 his horse at the gate of the house at Prilutchino. 
 
 " No, sir," replied the servant ; " Grigory Ivanovitch 
 left quite early this morning." 
 
 "How provoking!" thought Aleksey. "Is Elisaveta 
 Grigorievna at home ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 And Aleksey, jumping off his horse, gave the servant 
 the bridle, and walked in, without being announced. 
 
 "All will be decided," said he to himself, as he ap- 
 proached the drawing-room. " I shall explain it all to 
 herself." 
 
 He entered and remained petrified ! Lisa no, Aku- 
 lina, dear dark-haired Akulina, not in her sarafan, but 
 in a white morning-dress, sat by the window, reading his
 
 182 ItUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 letter; she was so taken up with it that she did not hear 
 him enter the room. Aleksey was unable to suppress a 
 joyful exclamation. Lisa started, looked up, uttered a 
 cry, and was about to run out. He rushed to hold her 
 back. 
 
 " Akulina, Akulina !" 
 
 Lisa struggled to free herself. 
 
 " Mais laissez moi done, monsieur mais etes-vous fou ?" 
 she kept repeating, and turning away from him. 
 
 " Akulina, my friend Akulina !" reiterated he, kissing 
 her hands. 
 
 Miss Jackson, who was witnessing the scene, knew not 
 what to think. At that moment the door opened, and 
 Grigory Ivanovitch entered. 
 
 " Aha !" said Muromsky ; " why you appear to have 
 settled the matter already." 
 
 My reader will spare me the unnecessary task of de- 
 scribing the denouement.
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 
 
 WE were quartered at . The daily routine of an 
 
 officer in the army is not unknown. Drills and the riding 
 school in the morning; dinner at the commandant's 
 quarters or in a Jewish eating-house, and cards and 
 punch in the evening, constitute the day's work. There 
 
 was no society at -, nor were there any marriageable 
 
 girls ; we used to meet at each other's rooms, where only 
 men in uniform were to be seen. 
 
 One civilian, however, was admitted within our circle. 
 He might have reached the age of five-and-thirty, and we 
 therefore looked upon him as being greatly our senior in 
 years. His large experience secured to him. a certain 
 amount of deference, and his usual moroseness, his stern 
 and sarcastic disposition, exercised a powerful influence 
 over our youthful imaginations. His past career seemed 
 shrouded in mystery. Though bearing a foreign name, 
 he was apparently a Russian. He had served at one 
 time in the Hussars, and had even been fortunate in 
 professional advancement ; none of us knew the reason 
 why he had retired from the service and taken up his
 
 184 SUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 abode in this wretched neighbourhood, where he lived 
 penuriously, and yet extravagantly ; he invariably went 
 out on foot, and lie was always seen in a black surtout 
 the worse for wear, but at the same time he kept open 
 house for all the officers of our regiment. Truth to tell, 
 two or three dishes, cooked by an old pensioner, consti- 
 tuted his dinner, but, on the other hand, champagne- 
 flowed at his table. His circumstances and his income 
 were unknown, and none of us presumed to ask any 
 questions about either. His only books were works con- 
 nected with the military service, and some novels which 
 he willingly lent, never asking to have them returned, 
 but neither did he give back those which he had bor- 
 rowed. His chief pastime consisted in pistol-practice. 
 The walls of his apartment were well riddled and perforated 
 like a honeycomb. A valuable collection of pistols formed 
 the only luxury of his humble habitation. The degree of 
 perfection he had attained in this art was inconceivable ; 
 and had he required to shoot at a pear on any one's head, 
 not one of our fellows would have hesitated to offsr him- 
 self. Our conversation often touched on the subject of 
 duelling. Silvio (as I shall name him) never joined in 
 it ; and when asked whether he had ever had occasion 
 to fight, would answer dryly that he had ; but he entered 
 upon no details, and it was evident that these and similar 
 questions were distasteful to him. We concluded that 
 the recollection of some unfortunate victim to this dread- 
 ful accomplishment troubled his conscience, the idea of 
 cowardice never even suggesting itself. There are people
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 185 
 
 whose exterior alone suffices to disarm sucli suspicions. 
 An unexpected occurrence disconcerted us all. 
 
 Some ten of us were one day dining with Silvio. We 
 drank as usual, that is, excessively, and after dinner 
 we endeavoured to prevail upon our host to be the banker 
 in a game of faro. For some time he persisted in declining, 
 for he seldom played, but at length he ordered the cards 
 to be brought, threw fifty ducats on the table, and com- 
 menced to deal. We all took our places and the game- 
 began. Silvio was wont to keep the strictest silence 
 upon such occasions, never discussing or explaining any- 
 thing. If the punter chanced to make a mistake, he 
 either paid up the balance immediately, or noted the sur- 
 plus. We were already aware of this, and therefore 
 never interfered. But of our number there was a young 
 officer who had lately joined. He took part in the game, 
 and in a lit of absence bent down one corner too many. 
 Silvio took up the chalk and rectified the score, as was 
 his custom. The officer thinking he was mistaken, began 
 to explain matters. Silvio continued dealing in silence. 
 The officer losing patience, rubbed out what to him ap- 
 peared unnecessary. Silvio taking up the chalk, again 
 marked the score. The officer, excited with wine, and by 
 the game and the laughter of his comrades, imagined 
 himself cruelly offended, and in his passion he lifted a 
 metal candlestick off the table, and threw it at Silvio, 
 who had barely time to evade the blow. We felt con- 
 fused. Silvio rose, and with fire in his eyes said : " Please- 
 to walk out, sir, and thank your stars that this has hap- 
 pened under my roof."
 
 186 JRUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 We did not doubt the consequences; and we looked 
 upon our new comrade as a dead man. He walked out, 
 declaring himself ready to answer for the affront in such 
 manner as the banker might elect. The game was con- 
 tinued for a few moments longer, but feeling how little 
 our host's thoughts were in it, we left, one by one, and 
 repaired to our quarters, discussing the possibility of a 
 speedy vacancy. 
 
 When we met in the riding school on the following 
 day, we immediately inquired of each other if our poor 
 ensign was still alive. When he himself appeared, we 
 greeted him, putting the same question ! He replied that 
 he had heard nothing of Silvio as yet. This surprised 
 us. We went to Silvio, and found him in the yard, send- 
 ing bullet after bullet into an ace of cards, which he had 
 fixed to the gate. He received us as usual, and did not 
 allude to the event of the preceding evening. Three days 
 elapsed, and the ensign still lived. We asked in astonish- 
 ment : " Can it be possible that Silvio will not light ?" 
 Silvio did not fight. A very slight explanation satisfied 
 him, and peace was restored. 
 
 Such conduct might have injured him excessively in 
 the estimation of youth. The want of pluck is what 
 young men excuse least, for they generally consider it the 
 highest of human virtues one that covers a multitude 
 of sins ! However, little by little, all was forgotten, and 
 Silvio regained his former influence. 
 
 I alone could not become reconciled to him. Being 
 naturally of a romantic turn of mind, I had, more than 
 anybody, attached myself to the man whose very existence
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 187 
 
 was an enigma, and who appeared to me to be the hero 
 of some mysterious event. He liked me, at least it was 
 with me alone that he laid aside his usual cutting, ill- 
 natured observations, and that he conversed upon various 
 subjects with perfect good nature and rare pleasantness. 
 But I could not, subsequently to that unfortunate even- 
 ing, rid myself of the idea that his honour had been tar- 
 nished, and that it was his own doing that the stain had 
 not been removed. This thought prevented my feeling 
 towards him as I had hitherto done, and I felt ashamed 
 to look upon him. Silvio was far too clever and too 
 shrewd, not to notice this and not to divine the cause. 
 He appeared hurt, and I fancied that I had more than 
 once detected a wish on his part to come to an understand- 
 ing with me ; but I avoided each opportunity, and Silvio 
 withdrew. Thereafter, I only met him in the presence of 
 my comrades, and our former intimacy came to an end. 
 
 The busy inhabitants of a capital can have no concep- 
 tion of the many excitements so familiar to those who 
 live in small towns or in villages for example, the look- 
 ing out for the periodical post-day; on Tuesdays and 
 Fridays our Regimental Office was crowded with officers ; 
 some expecting remittances, some letters, and some news- 
 papers. Letters and parcels were opened on the spot, 
 news communicated, and the office presented the most 
 animated appearance. Silvio's letters were addressed 
 under cover to our regiment, and he was therefore usually 
 present. Upon one of these occasions a letter was handed 
 to him, the seal of which he broke with a look of the 
 greatest impatience. His eyes brightened up as he perused
 
 188 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 it. The officers were themselves too much engaged to 
 notice anything. " Gentlemen," said Silvio, " circum- 
 stances require me to leave without delay ; I go this 
 night, and hope you will not refuse to dine with me for 
 the last time. I expect you, also," he continued, turning 
 to me ; " I expect you without fail." With these words 
 he hastened out, and we shortly dispersed, having agreed 
 to meet at Silvio's. 
 
 I arrived at the appointed hour, and found nearly the 
 whole of my brother-officers. Silvio's movables were all 
 packed, and little remained but the bare and battered 
 walls. We sat down to dinner ; our host was in hi^h 
 
 7 O 
 
 spirits, and his cheerfulness was soon participated in ; the 
 corks flew incessantly, our glasses frotlied and sparkled 
 unceasingly, and we wished the traveller with all possible 
 sincerity God speed, and every blessing. It was already 
 late when we rose. While the caps were being sorted 
 Silvio, bidding every one " good-bye," took me by the 
 hand and detained me, just as I was upon the point of 
 leaving. " I must speak to you," said he, in a low voice, 
 I remained. 
 
 The guests had left ; being alone, we sat opposite to 
 each other, and silently began to smoke our pipes. Silvio 
 was careworn, and there were no longer any traces of his 
 affected cheerfulness. The pallor of his sombre face, his 
 sparkling eyes, and the dense smoke issuing from his 
 mouth, gave him a truly demoniacal look. Several 
 minutes passed away, and Silvio broke silence : 
 
 II We may perhaps never meet again," said he ; "I wish 
 to have an explanation with you before we part. You
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 189 
 
 must have noticed how little I value the opinion of the 
 world, but I like you, and I feel that it would prey upon 
 me were I to leave an unjust impression respecting my- 
 self on your mind." 
 
 He stopped and began to re-fill his emptied pipe; I 
 remained silent with lowered eyes. 
 
 "You thought it strange," he continued, "that I did 
 
 not demand satisfaction from that tipsy fool B, . 
 
 You will doubtless own that the right to choose weapons 
 being mine, his life was in my hands, my own being 
 almost beyond the reach of danger. I might ascribe this 
 forbearance to pure generosity, but I will not deceive you. 
 Had it been in my power to punish R without risk- 
 ing my own life in the least degree, I would by no means 
 have let him off." 
 
 I looked at Silvio in surprise, and was completely taken 
 aback by such a confession. Silvio went on : 
 
 " That's just it. I have no right to imperil my life. I 
 received a box on the ear six years ago, and my enemy 
 stiU lives." 
 
 My curiosity was thoroughly awakened. "You did 
 not fight him ?" asked I. " Circumstances probably 
 parted you ?" 
 
 " I did fight him," answered Silvio ; " and here is the 
 memorial of our duel." 
 
 Silvio rose and took out of a hat-box a red cap, orna- 
 mented with a gold tassel and braid (what the French 
 would call bonnet de police) ; he put it on ; it had a hole 
 about an inch from its edge. 
 
 " You know," continued Silvio, " that I served in the
 
 190 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Hussars. My disposition is known to you. I am 
 accustomed to take the lead, but in my early days it was 
 a passion. At that time practical jokes were in fashion, 
 and I was the greatest scamp in the whole army. We 
 prided ourselves upon our drinking powers : I outdid the 
 famous B**, whom D** D** has sung.* Duels took place 
 constantly in our regiment. I took a part in all of them, 
 either as a witness or as a principal. My comrades idol- 
 ized me, and the regimental commanders, who were con- 
 stantly changing, looked upon rne as an unavoidable evil. 
 " I was thus quietly (that is, turbulently) enjoying my 
 popularity, when there joined us a wealthy youth, a 
 member of a well-known family (I do not wish to men- 
 tion names). Never in my life have I met such a fa- 
 voured child of fortune ! Imagine to yourself, youth, 
 talent, good looks, the most exuberant cheerfulness, the 
 most undaunted courage, a high-sounding name, wealth 
 to which he knew no bounds, and you will form some 
 idea of the impression his presence produced among us. 
 My pre-eminence received a check. Dazzled by my 
 reputation, he would have sought my friendship, but I 
 received him coldly, and he turned from me without any 
 show of regret. I began to hate him. His success in 
 our regiment and in the society of ladies threw me into 
 complete despair. I sought opportunities for a quarrel, 
 but my epigrams were answered by epigrams, which 
 always seemed to me more unexpected and more stinging 
 
 * A cavalry officer whose drinking powers and bravery have 
 been immortalized by the warrior poet, Denis Davidoff (temp. 
 Alexander I.) Tr.
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 191 
 
 than my own : they were of course immeasurably more 
 lively. He was facetious ; I was vicious. At last, upon 
 the occasion of a ball given by a Polish gentleman, seeing 
 that he was the object of attention of all the ladies, and 
 especially of the hostess herself, who was an ally of mine, 
 I whispered to him some grossly rude remark. He 
 warmed up, and gave me a box on the ear. We flew to 
 our swords. The ladies fainted ; we were separated, but 
 that same night we drove off to fight a duel. 
 
 "The day was breaking. I stood at the appointed 
 spot, attended by my three seconds. I awaited with in- 
 expressible impatience the arrival of my opponent. The 
 sun had already risen, and its rays were gathering heat. 
 I observed him in the distance. He was on foot, in uni- 
 form, wearing his sword, and accompanied by one second. 
 We walked on to meet him. He approached, holding in 
 his hand his cap, which was full of cherries. Our seconds 
 proceeded to measure twelve paces. I was to have fired 
 first, but my rage was so great that I could not rely upon 
 the steadiness of my hand, and to gain time, I conceded 
 to him the first shot. My opponent would not consent 
 to this. It was decided that we should draw lots ; he, 
 with his usual good luck, won the toss. He aimed, and 
 his ball went through my cap. It was now my turn. 
 His life was in my hands at last. I looked eagerly at 
 him, trying to detect even a shadow of uneasiness. He 
 stood covered by my pistol, selecting the ripest cherries 
 out of his cap, and spitting out the stones, which nearly 
 reached me as they fell. His coolness exasperated me. 
 What is the use, thought I, of depriving him of his life,
 
 192 JtUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 when he values it so little ? A wicked thought flitted 
 across my mind. I dropped the pistol. ' You are not 
 thinking of death now,' said I ; 'you prefer to enjoy your 
 breakfast ; I do not wish to disturb you !' ' You do not 
 disturb me in the least,' replied he, ' please to fire away ; 
 but, by-the-way, that is just as you please; your fire re- 
 mains with you ; I am always ready and at your service !' 
 I turned to the seconds, declaring I did not intend to 
 proceed at present, and thus our meeting ended. 
 
 " I quitted the service, and retired to this place. But 
 not a day has since passed without a thought of ven- 
 geance. Now my time has come " 
 
 Silvio drew out of his pocket the letter he had that 
 morning received, and handed it to me. Somebody (pro- 
 bably the person entrusted with the care of his business 
 matters) wrote word to him from Moscow, that a certain 
 individual was soon about to be united in lawful wed- 
 lock to a young and beautiful girl. 
 
 "You guess," said Silvio, "who is meant by this cer- 
 tain individual. I go to Moscow. We shall see whether 
 he will meet death as coolly on the eve of his marriage 
 as he once awaited it at his meal of cherries !" 
 
 Silvio rose at these words, threw his cap upon the 
 floor, and paced the room to and fro like a tiger in his 
 cage. I had listened to him in silence ; strange and con- 
 flicting feelings had taken possession of me. 
 
 The servant walked in, and reported the horses ready. 
 Silvio pressed my hand warmly ; we embraced each other. 
 He took his place in the telega*, wherein lay two boxes, 
 * Country cart. Tr. 
 
 *<
 
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 193 
 
 one containing his pistols, the other his necessaries. We 
 bade each other good-bye once more, and the horses were 
 off. 
 
 H. 
 
 SEVERAL years had elapsed, and my private affairs neces- 
 sitated my settling in a poverty-stricken little village in 
 
 the district of N . Though occupied with the duties 
 
 of landlord, I could not help silently sighing after my 
 former rackety and reckless existence. I found it so- 
 difficult to get accustomed to spend the long dismal 
 spring and winter evenings in such complete seclusion. 
 By chatting with the mayor, or going over new buildings 
 in progress, I managed somehow to drag through the day, 
 up to the dinner hour; but I literally knew not what to- 
 do with myself at dusk. I had read the limited number 
 of books which I had found on the bookshelves and in the 
 lumber-room until I knew them by heart. All the stories 
 which the housekeeper Kirilovna knew had been told me 
 over and over again. I grew weary of listening to the 
 peasant women's songs, and might have had recourse to 
 sweet liqueurs, but that they made my head ache ; and I 
 confess that I feared I might become a drunkard from a 
 feeling of wretchedness, that is to say the most wretched 
 of drunkards, of which I saw a number of instances in 
 our district. 
 
 I had no near neighbours, if I except two or three of 
 these wretched fellows, whose conversation consisted 
 chiefly of hiccoughs and sighs. Solitude was more en- 
 durable. At last I decided upon going to bed as early as 
 
 13
 
 194 KUSSfAN ROMANCE. 
 
 possible, and upon dining as late as possible ; in this way 
 I contrived to shorten the evenings and add to the length 
 of the days, which I spent in useful occupations. 
 
 Four versts from me lay a very valuable estate belong- 
 ing to the Countess B ; it was occupied by the agent 
 
 only ; the countess had visited it but once, and that in 
 the first year of her marriage, when she had not stayed 
 over a month. During the second year of my seclusion, 
 rumours were current that the countess and her husband 
 were coming to spend the summer. They really did 
 arrive at about the beginning of June. 
 
 The appearance of a well-to-do neighbour is an im- 
 portant event to rustics. Landlords and tenants speak of 
 it for two months previously and for three years sub- 
 sequently. I confess that, so far as I was concerned, the 
 presence of a young and beautiful neighbour seemed a 
 matter of considerable importance to me. I burned with 
 impatience to see her, and betook myself therefore after 
 dinner, the first Sunday subsequently to their arrival, to 
 pay my respects to their excellencies, as their nearest 
 neighbour and most devoted of servants. 
 
 A footman showed me into the count's library and 
 went to announce me. The spacious apartment was 
 furnished with the greatest possible luxury; the walls 
 were lined with bookcases, each of which was surmounted 
 by a bronze bust ; over the marble chimney-piece was 
 placed a large mirror ; the floor was covered with green 
 cloth and spread with carpets. Having lost all habits of 
 luxury in my poor retreat, and having long since ceased 
 to be familiar with the effects produced by the riches of
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 195 
 
 others, I became timid, and awaited the count with a 
 certain trepidation, like a provincial petitioner expecting 
 the approach of a minister. The doors opened, and a 
 handsome man of two-and-thirty came in. The count 
 approached me with frankness and friendliness. I 
 endeavoured to muster courage and to explain the object 
 of my call ; but he anticipated me. We sat down. His 
 easy and agreeable conversation soon dispelled my awk- 
 ward shyness ; I had already resumed my usual manner, 
 when suddenly the countess entered, and my perturbation 
 became greater than before. She was beautiful indeed. 
 The count introduced me ; I wished to seem to be at my 
 ease, but the more I tried the more awkward did I feel. 
 My new acquaintances, wishing to give me time to 
 recover, and to feel myself more at home, conversed 
 together, dispensing with all etiquette, thus treating me 
 like an old friend. I had risen from my seat in the 
 meanwhile, and was pacing the room inspecting the books 
 and pictures. I am no judge of paintings, but one there 
 was which specially attracted my attention. It repre- 
 sented a landscape in Switzerland ; but I was struck, not 
 by the beauty of the artist's touch, but because it was 
 perforated by two bullets, one hole being just above the 
 other. 
 
 " This is a good shot/' said I, turning to the count. 
 
 " Yes," said he ; "a very remarkable shot. Do you 
 shoot well ?" he went on. 
 
 "Pretty well," I replied, overjoyed that the conversa- 
 tion had turned upon a subject of interest. " I mean I 
 
 132
 
 1% RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 could not miss a card at thirty paces ; of course, when I 
 know the pistols." 
 
 "Indeed," said the countess, with a look of great 
 attention ; " and you, my dear, could you hit a card at 
 thirty paces ?" 
 
 "Someday," answered the count, "we shall try. I 
 was not a bad shot in my time, but it is now four years 
 since I held a pistol." 
 
 " Oh," remarked T, " that being the case, I do not mind 
 betting that your excellency will not be able to hit a card 
 at twenty paces even : pistol shooting requires daily 
 practice. I know this by experience. I used to be con- 
 sidered one of the best shots in our regiment. It so 
 happened once that I had not touched a pistol for a whole 
 month : my own were undergoing repair, and will } r our 
 excellency believe it, when I took to shooting again, I 
 missed a bottle four successive times at twenty paces? 
 Our riding-master, a sharp, amusing fellow, happening to 
 be present, cried out : 'I say, old boy, thou canst not lift 
 thy hand against the bottle, eh ?' No, your excellency, 
 it is a practice that ought not to be neglected, if one does 
 not wish to become rusty at it. The best shot I ever 
 happened to come across practised every day, and would 
 fire at least three times before dinner. This was a rule 
 with him, as was his glass of vodka" 
 
 The count and countess appeared pleased at my having 
 become talkative. 
 
 "And what kind of a shot was he ?" asked the count. 
 
 " Of that sort, your excellency, that if he happened to 
 see a fly on the wall . . . You are smiling, countess. But
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT. 197 
 
 it is true, indeed. . . . When he chanced to see a fly, he 
 would call out : ' Kooska, ray pistols !' Kooska brings 
 him a loaded pistol. Bang ! and there is the fly, flattened 
 to the wall !" 
 
 "That was wonderful," said the count. "What was 
 his name ?" 
 
 " Silvio, your excellency." 
 
 "Silvio!" exclaimed he, jumping up; "you knew 
 Silvio T 
 
 " Knew him ? Of course, your excellency. We were 
 friends ; he was considered by the regiment as being quite 
 one of ourselves ; but it is now five years since I heard 
 anything of him. Your excellency appears also to have 
 known him ?" 
 
 "I knew him knew him very well. Did he ever 
 relate a very strange occurrence to you ?" 
 
 " Your excellency cannot possibly mean a box on the 
 ear, which some young scamp gave him at a ball ?" 
 
 " And did he name that scamp to you ?" 
 
 " No, your excellency, he did not ; but, your excel- 
 lency," continued I, the truth beginning to dawn upon me, 
 " I beg your pardon I was not aware can it be your- 
 self?" 
 
 " I, myself," answered the count, with an exceedingly 
 perturbed countenance, " and the perforated picture is the 
 reminiscence of our last meeting." 
 
 " Oh ! pray, dear," said the countess, " pray do not 
 speak of it. I dread hearing the story." 
 
 " No," replied he, " I shall relate the whole of it. He
 
 198 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 knows how I offended his friend, let him now also know 
 how Silvio took his revenge." 
 
 The count bade me be seated, and I listened with the 
 liveliest curiosity to the following recital : 
 
 " I was married five years ago. The first month, the 
 honeymoon, was spent in this village. It is to this house 
 that I am indebted for the happiest, as also for one of the 
 saddest moments of my life. 
 
 "We were out riding one evening; my wife's horse 
 became unmanageable ; she got frightened, gave me her 
 bridle, and set out homewards on foot. I saw upon enter- 
 ing the stable-yard a travelling telega, and was informed 
 that a gentleman, who had refused to give his name, and 
 had simply said that he had some business to transact, 
 was waiting for me in the library. I entered this room, 
 and in the twilight saw a man covered with dust and 
 wearing a long beard. He was standing by the fire-place. 
 I approached him, trying to recall to mind his features. 
 'Thou dost not recognize me, count/ said he, with trembling 
 voice. ' Silvio !' exclaimed I ; and I confess I felt my hair 
 stand on end ! * Yes, it is I,' he continued, ' the shot re- 
 mains with me ; I have come to discharge my pistol ; art 
 thou ready ?' The pistol protruded out of his side pocket. 
 I measured twelve paces, and stood there, in that corner, 
 begging him to fire quickly, before my wife returned. 
 He hesitated, he asked for lights. Candles were brought 
 in. I shut the door, gave orders that no one should come 
 in, and again begged him to fire. He took out his pistol, 
 and proceeded to take aim ... I was counting the seconds 
 ... I thought of her . . . One dreadful minute passed.
 
 
 THE PISTOL-SHOT 199 
 
 Silvio let his arm drop. ' I regret/ said he, ' that my pis- 
 tol is not loaded with cherry stones . . . The bullet is 
 heavy. This appears to me not a duel, but murder : I am 
 not accustomed to aim at an unarmed man : let us begin 
 anew; let us draw lots who is to have the first fire.' My 
 head swam ... I suppose I was not consenting ... At last 
 another pistol was loaded ; two bits of paper were rolled 
 up ; he placed them in the cap I had once shot through ; 
 I again drew the winning number. ' Thou art devilish 
 lucky, count,' said he, with an ironical smile I can never 
 forget. I do not understand what possessed me, and by 
 what means he forced me to it ... but I fired and hit 
 that picture there." 
 
 The count pointed to the perforated picture ; his face 
 was crimson, the countess had become whiter than her 
 handkerchief; I could not suppress an exclamation. 
 
 " I fired," the count went on : " and, thank God, missed. 
 Then Silvio . . . (he looked really dreadful at that moment) 
 Silvio aimed at me. Suddenly the doors opened, Masha* 
 rushed in, and with a scream threw herself on my neck. 
 Her presence restored ta me all my courage. ' Darling,' 
 said I, ' don't you see that we are joking ? How frightened 
 you are ! Go and take a glass of water and come back 
 to us ; I shall introduce an old friend and comrade to you.' 
 Masha still doubted. ' Tell me, is what my husband says 
 true ?' said she, turning to the sombre Silvio, ' is it true 
 that you are both in fun ?' ' He is always in fun, 
 countess,' replied Silvio. ' Once upon a time he gave 
 me a box on the ear, in fun ; in fun, he shot through this 
 
 * The pet name for Maria. Tr.
 
 200 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 cap ; in fun, he just now missed me; now I have a fancy 
 to be in fun also.' So saying, he was about to take aim 
 . . . before her ! Masha threw herself at his feet. ' Get 
 up, Masha, for shame !' I exclaimed, enraged ; ' and you, 
 sir, will you cease jeering at a poor woman ? Are you, 
 or are you not, going to fire ?' ' I am not going to,' 
 answered Silvio, ' I am content. I have seen your hesi- 
 tation, your timidity. I made you fire at me. I am 
 satisfied. You will remember me. I leave you to your 
 conscience !' Here lie was about to take his departure, 
 but stopping in the doorway, he looked at the perforated 
 picture, fired his pistol at it, almost without aiming, and 
 disappeared. My wife had fainted ; the servants dared 
 not stop him, and looked at him with terror ; he walked 
 out, called the ycmstchik* and drove off, before I had 
 even time to recover myself." 
 
 The count concluded. Thus did I learn the ending of 
 a story which had so interested me at its commencement. 
 I did not again meet its hero. It was said that at the 
 time of the revolt under Alexander Ypsilanti, Silvio com- 
 manded a detachment of the Heterae, and was killed in 
 the combat before Skulleni. 
 
 * A driver of post-horses. Tr.
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 
 
 TOWARDS the end of the year 1811, an ever-memorable 
 epoch for us, the kind-hearted Gavrilo Gavrilovitch 
 
 R lived on his estate Nenaradovo. He was well 
 
 known in the whole district for his hospitality and bene- 
 volence ; neighbours from all quarters were continually 
 dropping in upon him to partake of his good fare ; some 
 came, looking forward to a game of Boston at five kopeck 
 stakes with his wife, Prascovia Petrovna, others chiefly 
 to get a glimpse of their daughter, Maria Gavrilovna, an 
 elegant, pale-faced girl of seventeen, who, being considered 
 a rich heiress, was destined by many of the men for them- 
 selves, whilst others would elect her for their sons. 
 
 The reading of French novels had perceptibly influ- 
 enced Maria Gavrilovna's character, and consequently she 
 was ever feeling that she must be in love. The chosen 
 object of her affections was a poor ensign in the army, 
 just then at home on leave of absence. It should be \m- 
 derstood that the young man was inflamed with a like 
 passion, and the parents of his beloved one, upon dis- 
 covering these their mutual inclinations, forbade their 
 daughter even to think of him, and the youth was r
 
 202 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ceivcd by them with as little courtesy as they would 
 have shown to a superannuated assessor. 
 
 Our lovers corresponded, and met daily, unobserved, 
 either in the shade of the pine forest or by the old chapel. 
 Here they exchanged vows of constant love, bewailed 
 their cruel fate, and meditated upon means of deliverance. 
 These letters and secret conferences led them (and very 
 naturally so) to the following conclusions: that life would 
 be a burden were they to be separated from each other, 
 and as her hard-hearted parents chose to place obstacles 
 in the way of their happiness, would it not be possible to 
 forego their consent altogether ? Of course it was the 
 young man who first originated this happy idea, which 
 very much pleased the romantic Maria Gavrilovna. 
 
 Winter setting in put an end to their meetings, but 
 their correspondence became the more active. Vladimir 
 Nikolaevitch besought Maria Gavrilovna in each of his 
 letters to give herself up to him, urging her to a clandes- 
 tine marriage, proposing that they should keep themselves 
 concealed for a while, and that they should finally throw 
 themselves in repentance at her parents' feet, who by that 
 time would doubtless be touched by such unequalled con- 
 stancy, and by the unhappiness of the lovers, and would 
 be certain to receive them with the exclamation, " Chil- 
 dren ! come to our arms." 
 
 Maria Gavrilovna wavered long ; one plan of flight was 
 dismissed for another. At last she consented : it was ar- 
 ranged that she should, on the appointed day, retire to 
 her room before supper, under the pretext of suffering 
 from a headache; that accompanied by her maid, who
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 203 
 
 would be privy to the arrangement, she should descend to 
 the garden, and pass out at the back gate ; that a sledge 
 should be in readiness, and that she should drive to the 
 village of Jadrino, about five versts from Nenaradovo, and 
 alight at the church, where Vladimir would be found 
 awaiting her. 
 
 Maria Gavrilovna passed a sleepless night ; she packed 
 up her things into a bundle, and wrote one long letter to- 
 ft certain friend, a sentimental young lady, and another to 
 her parents. She bade them farewell in the most pathetic 
 terms, urging in extenuation of her conduct, the unsur- 
 mountable strength of her passion, and concluded with 
 the assurance that she would consider it the happiest 
 moment of her existence when she should be able to 
 throw herself at their feet. Having sealed both the 
 letters with a Toula seal, bearing the representation of 
 two flaming hearts and an appropriate motto, she flung 
 herself upon her bed just before daybreak and slumbered. 
 But her rest was disturbed by horrible dreams. Now she 
 saw her father arresting her just as she was on the point 
 of driving off to be married ; she felt that he was drag- 
 ging her with lightning speed over the cold snow, and 
 hurling her into a dark unfathomable pit, and she was 
 falling headlong, with an inexpressible sickness at heart. 
 Then she saw Vladimir, stretched on the ground, pale and 
 bloodstained. He was dying, and calling upon her in a 
 piercing voice to become his bride these and other 
 equally shapeless, equally wild visions, passed before her. 
 She rose at last, paler than usual, and this time with a 
 real headache. Her father and mother noticed her indis-
 
 204 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 position; their tender solicitude and constant inquiry, 
 " What ails thee, Masha ?" went to her heart. She tried 
 to reassure them, and endeavoured to assume her usual 
 cheerfulness, but she could not succeed. Evening came 
 on. The thought that she was now spending her last 
 day in her old home seemed unendurable. She was 
 scarcely conscious, and was mentally bidding a secret 
 farewell to everybody, to every object which surrounded 
 her. Supper was served. Her heart beat fast. Her 
 voice faltered as she declared she did not require any 
 supper, and bade her father and mother "good-night." 
 They kissed and blessed her as was their wont; she 
 strove hard to conceal her tears. But upon reaching her 
 room and finding herself alone, she threw herself upon a 
 couch and wept. Her maid entreated her to be calm and 
 to take courage. All was ready. But one half-hour, and 
 Masha was to quit for ever her parents' roof, her room, 
 her peaceful maiden existence. A snowstorm was raging : 
 the wind howled, the shutters creaked and shook; she 
 looked upon all this in the light of a warning, of a sor- 
 rowful omen. At last the household was wrapped in 
 silence and sleep. Masha drew a shawl around her 
 shoulders, threw on a warm cloak, took her casket, and 
 slipped through the back entrance. Her maid followed 
 her, carrying two bundles. They entered the garden. 
 The storm had not abated, the wind blew violently into 
 their faces, as if desirous of arresting the young culprit. 
 The garden gate was reached with some difficulty. The 
 sledge was in readiness. The chilled horses refused to 
 stand still, and Vladimir's coachman was trying to curb
 
 THE SNO W-STORX. 205- 
 
 their restlessness. He assisted the young lady and her 
 maid into the sledge, stowed away the casket and bundles, 
 seized the reins, and they were off. 
 
 Having entrusted the lady to the care and management 
 of Tereska, the coachman, let us return to the young 
 lover. 
 
 Vladimir had been astir all day. In the morning he 
 had called on the priest of Jadrino, whose scruples he 
 with some difficulty overcame ; he then went to invite 
 witnesses amongst the neighbouring landowners. He 
 first unburdened himself to Dravin, a retired cornet of 
 about forty, who willingly consented. " This incident," 
 he said, " reminded him of times long gone by, and of his 
 regimental sprees !" He pressed Vladimir to stay and 
 dine, having first convinced him that he would meet with 
 no difficulty in the choice of the two other witnesses. 
 And he was right, for scarcely was dinner over, when 
 there appeared Schmidt, the land-surveyor, who wore a 
 moustache and spurs ; and a youth of sixteen, the son of 
 the Captain of Police, who had quite recently joined the 
 Uhlans. They not only accepted Vladimir's invitation, 
 but went so far as to assure him of their readiness to lay 
 down their lives in his cause. Vladimir embraced them 
 with rapture, and started off to prepare. 
 
 Twilight was already setting it. Valdimir despatched 
 his troika* to Nenaradovo in charge of his trusty 
 Tereshka, with strict and detailed instructions, and 
 ordered the small one-horse sledge to be got ready for 
 himself, and dispensing with a coachman, he left for 
 * Any vehicle drawn by three horses abreast. Tr.
 
 206 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Jadrino, where Maria Gavrilovna would be in a couple of 
 hours. He knew the road, and it was but a twenty 
 minutes' drive. 
 
 Vladimir had scarcely cleared the paddock, and found 
 himself in the open country, when the wind rose and a 
 blinding snow-storm set in. In an instant the road 
 became undiscernible : the country around had disap- 
 peared in a thick, yellowish mist, across which the white 
 snow-flakes were chasing each other. The sky and the 
 earth had melted into one ; Vladimir found that he had 
 strayed into the fields, and endeavoured, but in vain, to 
 regain the road ; his horse went at random and was now 
 lifting him over the drifted snow, then sinking him in a 
 ditch ; the sledge was continually upsetting ; his only 
 care was not to swerve from the right direction. But he 
 Fancied that half an hour, and even longer, must have 
 elapsed, and the Jadrino wood was not yet reached. Ten 
 minutes passed away, and still no wood was to be seen. 
 He was now driving across fields intersected by deep 
 ditches. The snow-storm was not abating, and the sky 
 did not look any clearer. Vladimir's horse was beginning 
 to show signs of fatigue, and he himself was drenched in 
 perspiration, notwithstanding his being continually up to 
 his waist in snow. 
 
 Convinced at last that he had taken a wrong direction, 
 he stopped and began to reflect and to consider liis posi- 
 tion, when he felt persuaded that he should have turned 
 to the right. He now did so. His horse could scarcely 
 move. But he had already been driving over an hour. 
 Jadrino could not be far off. He pressed on and on,
 
 THE SNO W-STORM . 207 
 
 however, and the fields seemed never to end. Snowdrifts 
 and ditches still intercepted his progress ; the sledge was 
 still being upset, and he was continually righting it. 
 Time sped on, and Vladimir became seriously alarmed. 
 
 At last a dark spot loomed in the distance. He turned 
 in its direction, and discovered it to be a wood. " Thank 
 God," thought he, " it is all right now." Vladimir kept 
 close by its hedge, hoping either to come upon the well- 
 known tracks or to make the circuit of the forest : Jadrino 
 lay just behind it. The track soon appeared, and he 
 plunged into the gloom of the now leafless trees. Here 
 he was sheltered from the wind ; the road was easy, the 
 horse stepped out, and Vladimir's anxiety abated. 
 
 But he still travelled on and on, and Jadrino was 
 nowhere to be seen. The track seemed endless. Vladimir 
 now discovered with horror that he had penetrated into 
 a strange forest. Despair seized hold upon him. He 
 struck the horse ; the poor animal started off at a trot, 
 but soon relaxed its pace, and in a quarter of an hour it 
 toiled on step by step, and all the unhappy Vladimir's 
 efforts to hurry it onwards were fruitless. 
 
 By degrees the trees thinned and the wood was cleared ; 
 no Jadrino. It must then have been close upon midnight ; 
 Tears started to his eyes; he drove recklessly. The 
 storm in the meanwhile abated ; the clouds dispersed ; a 
 broad plain, a white undulating carpet, stretched before 
 him. The night had cleared up. He observed that a 
 hamlet, consisting of four or five tenements, was not far 
 off. He drove to it. Pulling up at the first cottage, he 
 jumped out of the sledge and rapped at the window.
 
 208 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Shortly the wooden shutter was raised and an old man 
 pushed his gray beard through. 
 
 " What dost thou want ?" 
 
 " Is Jadrino far from here ?" 
 
 " Is Jadrino far ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, is it far ?" 
 
 " Not far, ten versts may be !" 
 
 On hearing this, Vladimir clutched his hair, and re- 
 mained motionless, like a man condemned to death. 
 
 " And whence art thou ?" continued the old man. 
 
 Vladimir had not the heart to answer his question. 
 
 " I say, old man," said he, " canst thou let me have 
 horses to take me to Jadrino ?" 
 
 " What dost thou talk to me of horses for ?" answered 
 the mujik* 
 
 " May I not at least have a guide ? He shall have 
 whatever he asks." 
 
 " Stay," said the old man, letting down the shutter ; " I 
 shall send thee my son, he will conduct thee." 
 
 Vladimir waited. One minute could barely have 
 elapsed, before he knocked again. The shutter was 
 raised and the beard peeped out. 
 
 " What dost thou want ?" 
 
 " Well, what about thy son ?" 
 
 "Coming directly, he is getting his boots on. Maybe 
 thou art cold ; come in and warm thyself." 
 
 " No, thanks ; send thy son quickly." 
 
 The gates creaked ; a lad came out armed with a club 
 and took the lead, now pointing to the road, now search- 
 ing for it, where the snow had drifted. 
 * Peasant. Tr.
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 209 
 
 " What o'clock is it ?" asked Vladimir. 
 "It will soon be day-break," answered the young 
 muj'd: 
 
 Vladimir uttered not another word. 
 
 The cocks were crowing and the day was dawning 
 
 when they reached Jadrino. The church was closed. 
 
 Vladimir rewarded his guide and drove into the priest's 
 
 stable-yard. No troika was to be seen, and what were 
 
 the news which here awaited him ? 
 
 But let us return to the good people of Nenaradovo and 
 see what is going on there. 
 Nothing. 
 
 The old people rose and proceeded into the drawing- 
 room Gavrilo Gavrilovitch in his nightcap and warm 
 jacket, Prascovia Petrovna in a wadded dressing-gown. 
 The samovar was brought in, and Gavrilo Gavrilovitch 
 despatched the maid to inquire after Maria Gavrilovna's 
 health, how she felt, and how she had slept. The girl 
 returned declaring that the young lady had not had a 
 good night, but she now felt better, and would herself be 
 down directly. The door opened and Maria Gavrilovna 
 walked in, and bade her papa and mamma good-morning. 
 " How is the head, Masha ?" asked Gavrilo Gavrilovitch. 
 " Better, papa," answered Masha. 
 " Perhaps the fumes from the stove had given thee a 
 headache," said Prascovia Petrovna. 
 " Perhaps, mamma," answered Masha. 
 The day passed happily, but that night Masha was 
 taken ill. A messenger was despatched into the town 
 for the doctor. He arrived towards the following even- 
 
 14
 
 210 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ing and found her delirious. A violent fever set in, and 
 the poor patient lay for a fortnight between life and 
 death. 
 
 No suspicion was entertained of the planned flight. 
 The letter written on the eve had been burned. The 
 maid had disclosed nothing, fearing the displeasure of her 
 master and mistress. The priest, the retired cornet, the 
 moustached land surveyor, and the charming young 
 Uhlan were equally reserved, and not without reason. 
 Tere'shka, the coachman, was not in the habit of ever 
 dropping an idle word, not even in his tipsy moments, 
 and thus more than half a dozen actors maintained the 
 secret of the plot. 
 
 But Maria Gavrilovna herself was ready to disclose all 
 in her ravings. Nevertheless, her utterances were so 
 disconnected, that even her mother, who never quitted 
 her bedside, could only gather from them that her*' 
 daughter was desperately in love with Vladimir Nikolae- 
 vitch, and to this attachment was due the cause of her 
 illness. She consulted her husband and some of her 
 neighbours, and they all unanimously arrived at the con- 
 clusion that one could not flee one's destiny ; that poverty 
 was no sin, that one did not marry riches, but a husband, 
 and so on. It is wonderful how consoling moral precepts 
 become when we know of no excuse in exculpation of 
 our conduct. 
 
 The young lady was in the meanwhile recovering. 
 Vladimir had long since discontinued his visits. The re- 
 ception he usually met with scared him. It was now 
 resolved that he should be sent for and made acquainted
 
 THE SNO W-STORM. 21 1 
 
 with the unexpected happiness in store for him consent 
 to their union. What must have been their surprise 
 when the only answer this invitation elicited was received 
 in the shape of a disconnected and raving letter, in which 
 Vladimir informed them that he could never again put 
 his foot into their house, and begged them at the same 
 time to forget the hapless being whose only comfort 
 henceforth was to be looked for in the grave ? They 
 heard a few days later that he had rejoined the army. 
 This was in 1812. 
 
 It was a long time before the convalescent Masha could 
 be told of it. 
 
 She never mentioned Vladimir now. Upon seeing his 
 name on the list of the severely wounded at Borodino, a 
 few months after the preceding events, she fainted away, 
 and fears were entertained of a relapse. But fortunately 
 the swoon was followed by no serious consequences. 
 
 Another trial awaited her. Gavrilo Gavrilovitch died, 
 leaving her sole heiress to all he possessed. But this 
 legacy did not console her. Prascovia Petrovna's grief 
 was most sincerely shared by her daughter, who pro- 
 tested that she would never leave her ; they quitted 
 Nenaradovo, so replete with sad reminiscences, and settled 
 on one of their other estates. 
 
 Admirers flocked here also around the amiable and 
 wealthy heiress, but she encouraged none of them. Her 
 mother sometimes urged her to make a choice, but on 
 such occasions Maria Gavrilovna would only shake her 
 head and look pensive. Vladimir had ceased to exist: 
 he died at Moscow on the eve of the entry of the French 
 
 142
 
 212 JKUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Masha held his memory sacred : that is, she treasured up 
 whatever would recall him to mind the hooks he had 
 once read, his drawings, the music and poetry which he 
 had copied for her. These facts having come to the 
 knowledge of the neighbours, they wondered at so much 
 devotion, and with curiosity awaited the hero who would 
 overcome the sorrowful constancy of this maiden Arte- 
 mesia. 
 
 The war had in the meantime come to a glorious ter- 
 mination. Our troops were returning from abroad. The 
 people hurried to meet them. Bands were sounding 
 strains of conquest : Vive Henri Quatre, Tyrolese valses, 
 and airs from Jocunda. The fields of battle had changed 
 those who had set out for the campaign as mere striplings 
 into men, and they were now returning decorated with 
 crosses. Soldiers were seen conversing gaily, mixing 
 here and there French and German words in their con- 
 versation. 
 
 Oh ! the never-to-be-forgotten time ! A time of glory 
 and rapture ! How fast did the Russian heart beat at the 
 word Fatherland ! How joyous were the tears at meeting! 
 How unanimously did we then unite our feeling of 
 national pride to our love for the sovereign! And for 
 himself, what a moment ! 
 
 The women, the Russian women, were then incom- 
 parable. Their habitual indifference had disappeared. 
 Their rapture was simply intoxicating, when they met 
 the conquerors with shouts of Hurrah ! 
 
 "And threw their caps into the air."* 
 
 * Griboyedov's Comedy, "Gore at ouma," act ii. sc. 5. Tr.
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 213 
 
 Which of our officers then would have hesitated to admit 
 that it was at the hands of our Russian women that he 
 met his best, his most precious reward ? 
 
 Maria Gavrilovna and her mother remained quietly in 
 the country during this brilliant epoch, and did not see 
 how the two capitals entertained the returning army. 
 But in the country and villages the general enthusiasm 
 had been raised, were it possible, to a still higher pitch. 
 The appearance of an officer in such a neighbourhood 
 was a real triumph, and woe betide the suitor in plain 
 clothes ! 
 
 As we have already stated, Maria Gavrilovua, notwith- 
 standing her indifference, was surrounded by admirers. 
 But all had to withdraw, when there appeared on the 
 field the wounded colonel of Hussars, Bourniin, wearing the 
 order of St. George* in his button-hole, and looking 
 interestingly pale, as the young ladies of the place 
 described him. He was about six-and-twenty, and had 
 returned on leave of absence to his estate, which adjoined 
 that of Maria Gavrilovna. Maria Gavrilovna singled him 
 out in a marked manner. His presence cheered her. One 
 cannot say that she coqueted with him, but a poet 
 observing her would have said 
 
 " Se amor non &, che dunque." 
 
 Bourmin was in truth a charming young man. He 
 had what always pleases a woman : a blending of good 
 breeding and tact, a man with no pretensions, and yet 
 withal slightly satirical in spite of himself. His deport- 
 
 * Decoration for valour. Tr.
 
 214 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 ment towards Maria Gavrilovna was open and frank, but 
 do what she might, say what she would, his soul and his 
 eyes pursued her. His manners were gentle and discreet, 
 but rumour asserted that once upon a time he had been 
 a sad scamp, a report whicli in no way affected him in 
 the opinion of Maria Gavrilovna, who (like young ladies 
 in general) was quite willing to forgive all follies charac- 
 teristic of a dashing and high-spirited disposition. 
 
 But more than all (more than his tenderness, more 
 than his interesting paleness, more than his splintered 
 arm), more than all was it the young hussar's reserve 
 that stimulated her curiosity and tortured her imagina- 
 tion. She could not help admitting that he was much 
 prepossessed in her favour; no doubt he also, with his 
 keenness and experience, must already have observed 
 how much she noticed him ; how was it then that she 
 had not yet seen him at her feet, had not yet heard his 
 avowal ? What was it that kept him back ? Was it 
 timidity, ever inseparable from real love ? Was it pride, 
 or the toying of an astute hanger-on ? She was puzzled. 
 Having thought over the matter, she finally arrived at 
 the conclusion that timidity must be the sole cause, and 
 she resolved to encourage him by greater attentions, and 
 should circumstances necessitate, even by tenderness. 
 She was preparing a most unexpected denouement, and 
 impatiently awaited the moment for a romantic expla- 
 nation. A secret, whatever its nature, always weighs 
 heavily on a woman's heart. Maria Gavrflovna's tactics 
 met with the desired success; at least Bourmin fell into a 
 thoughtful mood, and his black eyes rested with so much
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 215 
 
 passion on Maria Gavrilovna, that the decisive moment 
 seemed near. Their marriage was talked of as a matter 
 of course, and the good Prascovia Petrovna rejoiced that 
 her daughter had at last found a bridegroom worthy of 
 her. 
 
 The old lady was sitting in the drawing-room, dealing 
 ards at a game of fortune, when Bourmin entered and 
 immediately inquired after Maria Gavrilovna. 
 
 " She is in the garden," was the reply ; " go to her, I 
 will remain and wait for you here." 
 
 The old lady crossed herself and thought, " Please God, 
 the matter will be settled to-day." 
 
 Bourmin found Maria Gavrilovna by the lake under 
 a willow, book in hand, and dressed in white truly a 
 heroine of romance. After the first interchange of words 
 Maria Gavrilovna purposely let the conversation flag, 
 increasing thereby their mutual embarrassment, from 
 which perhaps only a sudden and decided explanation 
 could now extricate them. And thus it was : Bourmin, 
 feeling the awkwardness of his situation, declared that he 
 had long sought an opportunity to lay open his heart and 
 begged a few moments' attention. Maria Gavrilovna 
 closed her book and drooped her eyes in token of consent. 
 
 " I love you," said Bourmin ; " I love you passionately 
 . . . ." (Maria Gavrilovna blushed and drooped her 
 head still lower.) " I have acted imprudently in aban- 
 doning myself to the habit, the sweet habit of seeing you, 
 of hearing you, daily . . . ." (Maria Gavrilovna called to 
 mind St. Preux's first letter.) " It is now too kte to rebel 
 against one's destiny, and the remembrance of you, of
 
 216 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 your dear incomparable image, must ever remain the joy 
 and torment of my existence; but a hard duty still 
 remains to be performed, the dreadful secret must be 
 disclosed, that secret which raises an insurmountable 
 barrier between us ... ." 
 
 " That barrier has always existed," interrupted Maria 
 Gavrilovna with vivacity. " I never could have been 
 your wife . . . . " 
 
 " I know," answered he softly, " I know that you once 
 did love, but death, but three years of mourning .... 
 My dear, my good Maria Gavrilovna ! do not seek to 
 deprive me of this last consolation, of the thought that 
 you would have consented to secure my happiness, were 
 it not that " 
 
 "Leave off, for Heaven's sake, leave off! you torture 
 me . . . ." 
 
 " Oh yes ! I know, I feel that you would have been 
 mine, but .... I am the most wretched of beings .... 
 I am married !" 
 
 Maria Gavrilovna looked up at him in astonishment. 
 
 " I am married," continued Bourmin ; " I have been 
 married nearly four years, and I know not who my wife 
 is, where she is, and whether I shall ever see her again ?" 
 
 " What is it you say ?" exclaimed Maria Gavrilovna ; 
 " how strange ! go on, I will say something later . . . 
 pray do go on." 
 
 " Early in the year 1812," said Bourmin, " I was hasten- 
 ing to Wilna, where my regiment was quartered. Arriving 
 at a station late one evening I ordered horses to be got in 
 immediate readiness, when a dreadful snow-storm came
 
 THE SXO W-STORM. 217 
 
 on, and the station-master and the drivers all urged my 
 waiting. I took their advice ; but an unaccountable 
 uneasiness came over me, I felt strangely impelled to 
 push on. The fury of the storm remained unabated, but 
 I could wait no longer, and ordering the horses to be put 
 to a second time, I drove off, weather notwithstanding. 
 The driver bethought himself of a short cut across the 
 river, which would curtail our journey by three versts. 
 But the snow having drifted over the river bank we 
 missed the looked-for turning, and we thus found ourselves 
 in an unknown part of the country. 
 
 " The storm still raged ; but I espied a light in the 
 distance, and we drove towards it. We entered a village; 
 in the little wooden church, the door of which stood open, 
 glimmered a light ; several sledges stood outside the 
 paling and people loitered about the porch. ' This way, 
 this way !' exclaimed several voices. I ordered the man 
 to drive up. ' Dear me,' said one, 'what has delayed you? 
 The bride has fainted, the priest is at his wit's end, and 
 we have almost decided upon going home. But jump 
 out quickly !' I silently stepped out of the sledge and 
 entered the church, which was dimly lit up by two or 
 three candles. One young girl was sitting on a form in 
 a dark corner, another stood by chafing her temples. 
 ' Thank God !' said the latter, ' here you are at last ; you 
 have nearly been the death of my young lady/ The old 
 priest now approached me with the question, 'Do you 
 desire me to commence V ' Go on, go on, father,' 
 answered I absently. They raised the girl. I fancied 
 she was comely .... What incomprehensible, unpardon-
 
 218 EUSSIAX ROMANCE. 
 
 able wantonness ! .... I placed myself at her side before 
 the reading desk ; the priest hurried on ; three men and 
 her maid supported the bride, and were occupied solely 
 with her. We were married, and told to kiss each other. 
 My wife turned her pale face towards me. I was about 
 to kiss her .... She exclaimed, ' Oh, 'tis not he ! 'tis 
 not he !' and fainted away. The witnesses raised their 
 startled gaze at me. I turned, left the church without 
 the slightest opposition, threw myself into the kibitka, 
 and exclaimed, ' Go on !' " 
 
 " My God !" cried Maria Gavn'lovna ; " and you do not 
 know what has become of your wife ?" 
 
 " I do not," answered Bourmin ; " the name of the 
 village is unknown to me ; I do not recollect the station 
 which adjoined it, and I attached such little importance 
 to my criminal frolic at that time that I fell asleep upon 
 leaving the church, and did not awake until the next 
 morning, when we were already nearing the third station. 
 The servant who then accompanied me died on the march, 
 so that I am bereft of even the hope of discovering her 
 whom I so cruelly injured, and who is now so bitterly 
 avenged." 
 
 " My God ! my God !" gasped Maria Gavn'lovna, grasp- 
 ing his arm, " was it you ? and is it possible you do not 
 know me ?" 
 
 A pallor overspread Bourmin's features .... and he 
 threw himself at her feet. .
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 
 
 THE last of the goods and chattels of the undertaker. 
 Adrian Prohoroff's were heaped into the hearse, and a 
 pair of lean horses dragged it along for the fourth time 
 from the Basmanaja to the Nikitskaja, for to the latter 
 street the undertaker was removing with all his house- 
 hold. Having closed his old shop, he nailed a notice to 
 the door, to the effect that the premises were to be sold 
 or let, and started off on foot to his new abode. He was 
 surprised to find on approaching the little yellow house, 
 which had so long taken his fancy, and which he had at 
 last bought for a considerable sum, that he did not feel in 
 good spirits. Having crossed the new threshold and 
 finding his new abode in great confusion, he sighed at the 
 recollection of the old hovel, where during eighteen years 
 everything had been conducted with the strictest regu- 
 larity, and he scolded his daughters and the maid-of-all- 
 work for their dilatoriness, and set to, assisting them 
 himself. Order was soon established ; the sacred image- 
 case, the dresser with the crockery, the table, sofa, and 
 bed, occupied the corners assigned to them in the back 
 room; in the kitchen and the sitting-room was placed
 
 220 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 the master's handiwork, which consisted of coffins of all 
 sizes and colours, and the cupboards were filled with 
 mourning cloaks and torches. Over the gate appeared a 
 sign-board, representing a corpulent Cupid holding a 
 reversed torch, with the inscription : HERE ARE SOLD AND 
 
 ORNAMENTED PLAIN AND PAINTED COFFINS; COFFINS ALSO 
 LET OUT ON HIRE, AND OLD ONES REPAIRED. The girls 
 retired to their room, and Adrian having inspected his 
 dwelling, sat down by the window, and ordered the 
 samovar to be got ready. 
 
 The enlightened reader is aware that both Shakespeare 
 and Walter Scott represented their grave-diggers as 
 cheerful and jocose persons, in order to strike our imagin- 
 ation more forcibly by the contrast. Out of regard to 
 truth, however, we cannot follow their example, and are 
 compelled to admit that the disposition of our undertaker 
 fully corresponded with his mournful calling. Adrian 
 Pr6horoff was habitually sullen and thoughtful. His 
 silence might occasionally be broken for the sole purpose 
 of scolding his daughters when he chanced to find them 
 idle, gazing out of the window at the passers-by, or ask- 
 ing an exorbitant price for his goods, of those who had 
 the misfortune (and sometimes also the good fortune) to 
 require them. Thus it happened that Adrian, now sipping 
 his seventh cup of tea, was as usual sunk in melancholy 
 reflections. He thought of the pouring rain which fell at 
 the very outset of the retired Brigadier's funeral the 
 previous week. Many mourning cloaks had shrunk in 
 consequence, and many hats had been spoiled. He fore- 
 saw unavoidable expenditure, for his old stock of mourn-
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 221 
 
 ing attire had fallen into a pitiful condition. He hoped 
 to charge a good round sum at the funeral of the merchant 
 Truhin's old wife, who had now been nearly a year at 
 death's door. But the old woman lay dying at Rasgoula'i, 
 and Prohoroff feared lest her heirs, notwithstanding their 
 promise, would neglect to send for him all that distance, 
 and would come to terms with the nearest undertaker. 
 
 These meditations were unexpectedly disturbed by 
 three freemason-like taps at the door. 
 
 " Who is there ?" asked Prohoroff. 
 
 The door opened, and a man in whom the German 
 artisan was recognized at a glance, walked in, and cheer- 
 fully approached the undertaker. 
 
 "Pardon me, my dear neighbour," said he, in that 
 Russian dialect which we cannot listen to without a 
 smile. " Pardon my intruding upon you I was anxious 
 to make your acquaintance. I am a bootmaker, my name 
 is Gottlieb Schulz, and I live across the street, in the 
 little house facing your windows. To-morrow I celebrate 
 my silver wedding, and I came to ask you and your 
 daughters to dine with us in a friendly way." 
 
 The invitation was accepted with good- will. The 
 undertaker asked the bootmaker to sit down and take a 
 cup of tea, and thanks to the cordial disposition of 
 Gottlieb Schulz, their conversation soon became friendly. 
 
 " How does your trade prosper ?" asked Adrian. 
 
 " Ah he he !" answered Schulz, " so, so, I cannot 
 complain, although my goods are of course different from 
 yours : a live man can do without boots, but a dead man 
 cannot do without a coffin."
 
 222 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " Very true," remarked Adrian ; " however, if the live 
 man has not got wherewith to pay for his boots, one can- 
 not take it amiss in him if he goes barefooted, but a dead 
 beggar lias a coffin gratis." 
 
 In this manner they conversed for some time. At last 
 the bootmaker rose, and taking leave of the undertaker, 
 renewed his invitation. 
 
 The next day at twelve o'clock precisely, the undertaker 
 and his daughters passed through the wicket of the newly 
 bought house on their way to neighbour Schulz. I shall 
 not describe either the Russian caftan* of Adrian Pro- 
 horoff, or the European attire of Akoulina and Daria, 
 departing in this respect from the now. so prevalent 
 custom among novelists. I do not, however, consider it 
 superfluous to remark, that both young ladies wore yellow 
 bonnets and red shoes ; this they did only on grand oc- 
 casions. 
 
 The small dwelling of the bootmaker was filled with 
 guests, who chiefly consisted of German artisans, their 
 wives, and their workmen ; of Russian employes there 
 was but one, the Esthonian, Yoorko the watchman, wha 
 had, in spite of his lowly calling, managed to secure the 
 special good-will of his host. He had served in this 
 capacity for five -and -twenty years, faithfully and 
 honestly, like the postman-f- of Pogarelsky. The fire of 
 1812, which destroyed the chief capital, annihilated also 
 his yellow watch-box. But as soon as the enemy was 
 expelled, a new one appeared in its stead : it was gray. 
 
 * A long coat worn by the lower classes. Tr. 
 t In "Grandmother's Cat. "-Tr.
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 223 
 
 with small white Doric pillars, and Yoorko in gray cloth 
 armour and axe* was again seen pacing before it. Almost 
 all the Germans who lived in the vicinity of the Nikitsky 
 gates knew him, and some had even chanced to spend 
 the night of Sunday to Monday morning under his roof. 
 Adrian hastened to make his acquaintance as he would 
 that of a man of whom he might stand in need, sooner or 
 later, and when the guests took their seats at dinner, 
 they sa/t next to each other. Monsieur and Madame 
 Schulz and their daughter Lottchen, who had seen but 
 seventeen summers, whilst dining with and entertaining 
 their guests, assisted the cook to wait upon them. Beer 
 flowed. Yoorko ate for four ; Adrian did not cede to him ; 
 his daughters, however, stood on ceremony. The con- 
 versation kept up in the German language, was becoming 
 louder and louder. Suddenly the host begged for a few 
 moments' attention, and drawing the cork of a sealed 
 bottle, exclaimed in a loud voice, in Russian : " The health 
 of my good Louisa !" The so-called champagne sparkled. 
 The host tenderly kissed the fresh face of his forty-year- 
 old helpmate, and the guests drank noisily to the health 
 of the good Louisa. " The health of my amiable guests !" 
 exclaimed the host opening a second bottle. And his 
 guests thanked him, and again drained their glasses. 
 Here toast followed upon toast ; the health of each guest 
 was drunk separately ; they toasted Moscow and an entire 
 dozen of little German towns, all corporations in general, 
 and each one in particular ; they drank to masters, and 
 they drank to foremen. Adrian drank sedulously, and 
 * Ismailoff s fables. Tr.
 
 224 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 was so elated that he himself proposed some jocular toast. 
 Suddenly, one of the guests, a fat baker, raised his glass, 
 and exclaimed : " To the health of those we work for 
 tmferet JCunbteute !" This proposal, like all the others, was 
 joyously and unanimously applauded. The guests saluted 
 ach other, the tailor bowed to the bootmaker, the boot- 
 maker to the tailor, the baker to both ; all to the baker, 
 and so on. Yoorko, in the midst of these mutual saluta- 
 tions, exclaimed, turning to his neighbour : 
 
 " What, now ? drink, sir, to the health of thy dead 
 ones." 
 
 All laughed, but the undertaker considering himself 
 affronted, became sullen. Nobody noticed him ; the party 
 continued its carouse, and the bells had already rung for 
 vespers when all rose from the table. 
 
 The guests dispersed at a late hour, and most of them 
 were elevated. The fat baker and the bookbinder, whose 
 face appeared as if bound in red morocco, led Yoorko 
 between them to his box, carrying out in this case the 
 Russian proverb : A debt is rendered honourable by pay- 
 ment. The undertaker returned home tipsy and wrath- 
 ful. " Why, indeed," reasoned he aloud : " v?\iy is my 
 craft worse than any other? Is an undertaker, then, 
 brother to an executioner ? What had the heathens to 
 laugh at ? Is an undertaker a Christmas harlequin ? I 
 meant to have asked them to a house-warming, to have 
 given them a feast ; but let them wait till they get it. 
 And I shall now invite instead those for whom I work, 
 my orthodox dead." 
 
 " What, sir ?" said the maid, who was pulling off his
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 225 
 
 boots, " what dost thou talk about ? Make the sign of 
 the cross ! To ask the dead to a house-warming ! What 
 horror S" 
 
 " By I shall ask them," continued Adrian ; " I 
 
 shall ask them at once, for to-morrow. Pray come, my 
 benefactors, come to feast with me to-morrow evening ; I 
 shall entertain you with what God has given me." So 
 saying, the undertaker tumbled into bed, and soon began 
 to snore. 
 
 It was still dark when Adrian was roused. The mer- 
 chant t Truhin's wife had died that very night, and a 
 special messenger had been sent on horseback with this 
 intelligence. The undertaker gave him a ten-copeck piece 
 for a vodka* dressed in haste, took a droshky, and drove 
 to Rasgoulai. The police were already stationed at the 
 gates of the house where lay the defunct ; tradespeople 
 were going in and out, like ravens at their prey. The 
 corpse lay on a table, yellow as wax, but not yet dis- 
 figured by decomposition. Relations, neighbours, and 
 friends crowded around. All the windows stood open ; 
 candles were burning ; priests were reading prayers. 
 Adrian went up to Truhin's nephew, a young merchant 
 in a fashionable coat, and assured him that the coffin 
 candles, pall, and other funeral furniture, would be 
 delivered with all punctuality and without fail. The 
 heir thanked him absently, saying that he would not bar- 
 gain about the expense, but should trust implicitly to his 
 conscience. The undertaker, as usual, swore that he 
 
 * A glass of spirits. Tr. 
 
 15
 
 226 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 would not overcharge ; exchanged a significant glance 
 with his workmen, and started off to make the necessary 
 arrangements. The whole day was spent driving to and 
 fro between Rasgoulai and the Nikitsky gates ; towards 
 evening, all being arranged, he settled with his driver, 
 and returned homewards on foot. It was a moonlight 
 night. The undertaker had safety reached the Nikitsky 
 gates. At the Church of the Ascension, our friend 
 Yoorko hailed him, and on recognizing the undertaker 
 wished him good-night. It was getting late. The un- 
 dertaker was approaching his house, when he suddenly 
 fancied he saw some one nearing it, open the wicket, pass 
 through, and disappear. " What can this mean ?" thought 
 Adrian. " Who is it wants me again ? Can it be a thief ? 
 Do lovers perhaps visit my silly girls ? It bodes evil !" 
 And the undertaker was on the point of calling his friend 
 Yoorko to come to his aid. Just then some other person 
 approached the wicket and was about to enter, but, on 
 becoming aware that Adrian was nearing hurriedly, this 
 person stopped, and raised his cocked hat ; Adrian fancied 
 he knew the face, but was not, in his haste, able to 
 examine it closely. "You were coming to me," said 
 Adrian, breathlessly ; " do me the favour to step in." 
 
 "No ceremonies, friend," said the stranger, in a hollow 
 voice ; " walk on, show thy guests the way !" 
 
 There was no time to stand on ceremony. The wicket 
 stood open, Adrian went up the staircase, the person 
 following him. Adrian fancied that people were walking 
 about his rooms. " What devilry is this ?" thought he, 
 and hurried in but here his legs gave way. The room
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 227 
 
 was full of dead people. The moon shining through the 
 windows, lit up their yellow and blue faces, sunken 
 mouths, dull half- closed eyes, and thin protruding noses. 
 Adrian recognized in them, with dread, people who had 
 been buried with his aid ; and in the guest whom he had 
 preceded, the brigadier who had been interred during the 
 pouring rain. All the women and men assembled, sur- 
 rounded the undertaker, bowing, and greeting him ; all 
 except one poor fellow, who had quite recently been 
 buried gratis, and who, shy and ashamed of his tatters, 
 did not venture to come forward, but stood retiredly in a 
 corner. The rest were respectably dressed : the women 
 wore caps with ribbons ; those men who had served the 
 State, were in uniform, but their faces were unshaven ; 
 merchants wore their holiday caftans. "Seest thou, 
 Prohoroff," said the brigadier, in the name of this select 
 company, " how we have all risen at thy invitation. 
 Those alone have remained at home who could not possi- 
 bly come, who had quite crumbled to pieces, or who 
 had no skin, but only their bare bones left ; but even 
 thus, one of them could not rest so anxious was he to 
 see thee !" 
 
 At that moment a small skeleton pushed his way 
 through the crowd, and approached Adrian. His skull 
 smiled affectionately at the undertaker. Bits of light 
 green and red cloth, and of old linen, hung here and there 
 about him, as upon a pole, whilst the bones of his feet 
 rattled in his Hessian boots, like a pestle in a mortar. 
 " Thou dost not recognize me, ProhorofF," said the skele- 
 ton. " Dost thou remember the retired sergeant of the 
 
 152
 
 228 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Guards, Piotr Petrovitch Kurilkin, the same for whom 
 thou soldest thy first coffin, in the year 1799 and one of 
 pine too, for one of oak !" So saying, the corpse extended 
 his "bony arms towards him ; but Adrian, mustering all 
 his strength, cried out, and pushed him from him. Piotr 
 Petrovitch tottered, fell, and went to pieces. 
 
 A murmur of indignation was heard amongst the dead ; 
 they stood up for the honour of their fellow, threatening 
 and upbraiding Adrian ; and the poor host, deafened by 
 their cries, and almost pressed to death, losing his pre- 
 sence of mind, fell across the bones of the retired sergeant 
 of the Guards, and remained unconscious. 
 
 The sun-light had long been streaming across the bed 
 on which the undertaker was sleeping. At last he 
 opened his eyes, and saw before him the maid, blowing 
 at the charcoal of the samovar. Adrian remembered 
 with dread all the events of the preceding day : Truhin, 
 
 the brigadier, and the sergeant appeared dimly before 
 him. He was silently expecting the girl to begin the 
 
 conversation, and to relate to him the results of the 
 night's adventures. 
 
 "How thou hast overslept thyself, Adrian Prohoro- 
 
 vitch, sir," said Aksinia, handing him his dressing-gown. 
 
 " Thy neighbours, the tailor and the watchman, came to 
 
 thee with the announcement that it was the Saint's-day 
 
 of the Commissary of Police, but thou wast pleased to 
 
 sleep, and we did not like to awake thee." 
 
 " And did they come to me from the late Madame 
 
 Truhin T 
 
 " Late ? Is she then dead ?"
 
 THE UNDERTAKER. 229 
 
 " Fool that thou art ! didst not thou thyself help me to 
 arrange things for her funeral ?" 
 
 " Hast thou lost thy senses, sir ? or have the fumes of 
 last night's drink not passed off yet ? What funeral was 
 there yesterday ? Thou didst feast at the German's all 
 day, and coming home tipsy, didst throw thyself on thy 
 bed, and didst sleep until this very hour, when the bells 
 have already rung for mass." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the rejoiced undertaker. 
 
 " Of course," answered Aksinia. 
 
 "Well, if that is the case, let us have the samovar 
 quickly, and call my daughters."
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 
 
 Is there anybody who has not cursed the station-masters, 
 who has not abused them ? Is there anybody who has 
 not demanded of them the fatal book in an angry mo- 
 ment, so as to enter therein the unavailing complaint 
 against delays, incivility, and inexactitude ? Is there 
 anybody who does not look upon them as being the scum 
 of the human race, like the late Government Clerks,* or 
 at the least like the Mouromsky brigands ?-f Let us, how- 
 ever, be just ; let us realize the position, and perhaps we 
 shall judge them with some leniency. What is a station- 
 master ? The veritable martyr of the fourteenth class, 
 whose rank serves only to save him from blows, and not 
 so even at all times. (I appeal to the conscience of my 
 readers.) What is the duty of these dictators, as Prince 
 Viazemsky humorously styles them ? Is it not in truth 
 hard labour ? No rest day or night. It is ^him the 
 traveller assails irritated by the accumulated vexations 
 of a tiresome journey. Is the weather atrocious ; are the 
 roads in a bad state ; is the driver dogged ; do the horses 
 
 * An allusion to the corrupt nature of those ill-paid employe's. 
 Tr. 
 
 t Murom, a territory now included in the government of Vladi- 
 mir, where robbers formerly infested the woods. Tr.
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 231 
 
 refuse to go ? the fault is surely the station-master's. 
 On entering his poor dwelling, the wayfarer looks upon 
 him as he would a foe ; the station-master may consider 
 himself fortunate if he succeeds in ridding himself of his 
 uninvited guest ; but should there be no horses ? Heavens ! 
 what abuse, what threats ! He is about in the rain and 
 sleet, and takes refuge in the lobby in storms, and during 
 the Epiphanial frosts, to escape, were it but for a mo- 
 ment, the complaints and assaults of the irritated travel- 
 lers. A general arrives : the trembling station-master 
 gives his two last troikas, including the courier's. The 
 general is off, without uttering so much as " Thank you." 
 Five minutes later bells ! and a state messenger throws 
 his order for horses on the table ! Let us examine these 
 matters closely, and our hearts will commiserate rather 
 than fill with indignation. A few words more. In the 
 course of twenty years, I have travelled through Russia 
 in all directions ; I know almost all the post-roads, and I 
 am acquainted with several generations of drivers ; there 
 are few station-masters unknown to me by sight, and few 
 with whom I have not had some intercourse. I hope to 
 publish at no distant period some interesting notes made 
 during my travels ; I shall here merely observe, that the 
 station-masters as a class are most falsely represented* 
 These much-calumniated station-masters are in a general 
 way quiet people, naturally obliging, sociably inclined, 
 unassuming, and not over money-loving.^ { From their 
 conversation (which travellers do wrong to scorn) one 
 may learn much that is interesting and instructive. I 
 must own, that so far as I myself am concerned, I much
 
 232 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 prefer it to the tall talk of some employ^ of the sixth 
 class, travelling on the service of the Crown. 
 
 It will be easily guessed that I have some friends 
 amongst this respectable class of men. Indeed, the 
 memory of one of them is precious to me. Circum- 
 stances had once brought us together, and it is of him I 
 now intend to speak to my kind readers. 
 
 In May, 1816, I happened to be travelling through the 
 government of * * *, on a road which is now in dis- 
 use. My rank was insignificant; I changed carriages at 
 every stage, paying post-rates for two horses. Conse- 
 quently the station-masters did not treat me with any 
 distinction, and I often had to obtain by force what should 
 have been mine by right. Young and impetuous, I used 
 to vent my indignation on the station-masters for their 
 meanness and obsequiousness, when the troika to which I 
 had a right was given up for the carriage of some person 
 of high rank. Equally did it take me some time to get 
 accustomed to being passed over by a discriminating serf 
 at the governor's dinner-table. To-day, both these cir- 
 cumstances appear to me to be in the order of things. 
 Indeed, what would become of us, if the one very conve- 
 nient maxim, Hank honours rank, were superseded by 
 this other, Intellect honours intellect ? What differences 
 of opinion would arise ; and who would dependents wait 
 upon first ? But to return to my tale. 
 
 The day was hot. A few drops of rain fell at three 
 versts from the station, but it soon began to pour, and I 
 got wet through. On arrival, my first care was to 
 change my clothes as quickly as possible, my second to 
 order tea.
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 233 
 
 " Here, Dounia !" shouted the station-master ; " get the 
 samovar ready, and run and fetch some cream." 
 
 At these words, a girl of about fourteen appeared from 
 behind the partition, and ran into the lobby. I was 
 struck by her beauty. 
 
 " Is that thy daughter ?" asked I of the station- 
 master. 
 
 " Yes, it is," answered he, with an air of satisfied 
 pride ; " she is so sensible and so quick, and quite takes 
 after her poor mother." 
 
 Here he began to copy my order for horses, whilst I 
 amused myself looking at the prints which ornamented 
 the walls of his humble but neat chamber. They repre- 
 sented the story of the Prodigal Son : in the first, a vene- 
 rable old man, in a night-cap and dressing-gown, parts 
 with the restless youth, who hastily accepts his blessing 
 and a bag of money. In the next, the dissipated conduct 
 of the young man is portrayed in glaring colours : he is 
 sitting at a table, surrounded by false friends and shame- 
 less women. Farther on, the ruined youth, in a tattered 
 shirt and cocked hat, is seen feeding swine and sharing 
 their meal ; his face expresses deep sorrow and repentance. 
 His return to his father is last represented : the good old 
 man, in the very same night-cap and dressing-gown, 
 rushes to meet him ; the prodigal son is on his knees ; in 
 the background, the cook is slaying the fatted calf, and 
 the elder brother is inquiring of the servants the reason 
 for so much rejoicing. Under each of these pictures, I 
 read appropriate verses in German. All this has remained 
 impressed on my memory, as have also the pots of balsam,
 
 234 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 the bed with coloured curtains, and the other objects 
 which then surrounded me. I fancy I still see the host 
 himself, a fresh and good-natured looking man of about 
 fifty, wearing a long green coat, with three medals sus- 
 pended by faded ribbons. 
 
 I had scarcely settled with my old driver, when Dounia 
 returned with the samovar. The little coquette had at a 
 second glance noticed the impression she had made on 
 me ; she dropped her large blue eyes ; I entered into con- 
 versation with her ; she answered without the slightest 
 timidity, like a girl accustomed to the ways of the world. 
 I offered a glass of punch to her father, gave Dounia a cup 
 of tea, and we three conversed as if we had always known 
 each other. 
 
 The horses had long been ready, but I was unwilling 
 to part with the station-maater and his little daughter. 
 At last I bade them " good-bye ;" the father wished me 
 a prosperous journey, and the daughter accompanied me 
 to the carnage. I stopped in the lobby and asked leave 
 to kiss her: Dounia consented. I can remember having 
 given many kisses " since I first took to that occupa- 
 tion," but none have left such lasting, such pleasant 
 recollections. 
 
 Several years passed by, and circumstances led me to 
 the same places by the same roads. I remembered the old 
 station-master's daughter, and rejoiced at the prospect of 
 seeing her again. "But," thought I, "the old station- 
 master has perhaps been removed ; Dounia is probably 
 married." The possibility of the death of the one or of the 
 other also crossed my mind, and I neared the station of
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 235 
 
 * * * with melancholy apprehensions. The horses 
 stopped at the little post-house. On entering the room, 
 I at once recognized the pictures representing the history 
 of the Prodigal Son ; the table and bed stood in their old 
 places, but there were now no flowers on the sills, and 
 everything showed symptoms of decay and neglect. The 
 station-master was sleeping under his sheepskin coat ; 
 my arrival awoke him ; he raised himself. It was Samp- 
 son Virin, indeed: but how he had aged! Whilst he 
 was arranging the papers to copy my order for horses, I 
 looked at his gray hairs, at the deep wrinkles on a long- 
 unshaven face, on his bent form, and could not help 
 wondering how it was possible that three or four years 
 had changed him, hale as he used to be, into a feeble old 
 man. 
 
 " Dost thou recognize me ?" asked I ; "we are old 
 friends. 
 
 "Maybe," answered he, gruffly; "this is the high 
 road, many travellers have halted here." 
 
 "Is thy Dounia well ?" I continued. 
 
 The old man frowned. " God knows," answered he. 
 
 " Then she is married, I suppose," said I. 
 
 The old man feigned not to hear me, and continued 
 reading my padarojnaya* in a whisper. I ceased interro- 
 gating him, and asked for some tea. A feeling of curiosity 
 disquieted me, and I was hoping that some punch would 
 loosen the tongue of my old acquaintance. 
 
 I was not mistaken ; the old man did not refuse the 
 proffered glass. I observed that the rum was dispelling 
 
 * An official order for post-horses. Tr.
 
 236 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 his moroseness. He became talkative at the second glass, 
 remembered, or pretended to remember me, and I learned 
 from him the story, which at that time interested and 
 touched me deeply. 
 
 "And so you knew my Dounia?" he began. "Who 
 did not know her ? Oh ! Dounia, Dounia ! what a girl 
 she was. All who came here praised her ; never a word 
 of complaint. Ladies used to give her now a neckerchief, 
 then a pair of earrings. Travellers would stop purposely, 
 as it were, to dine or to sup ; but, in truth, only to look 
 at my Dounia a little longer. The gentlemen, however 
 choleric, would calm down in her presence and talk 
 kindly to me. Will you believe it, sir ? courtiers, state 
 messengers, used to converse with her for half an hour 
 at a time. She kept the house ; she cleaned up, she got 
 things ready, she used to find time for everything. And 
 I, old fool that I am, could not admire her sufficiently, 
 could not appreciate her enough ! Did not I love my 
 Dounia ? did not I pet my child ? Was not her life 
 happiness -itself? But no, one cannot flee misfortunes; 
 what is ordained must come to pass." Here he recounted 
 his troubles in detail. Three years had passed since one 
 winter evening, whilst the station-master was ruling out 
 a new book, and his daughter was working at a new 
 dress behind the partition, a troika pulled up, _ and a 
 traveller, wearing a Circassian cap and military cloak, 
 and wrapped in a shawl, entered the room, calling for 
 horses. All the relays were out. At this piece of intelli- 
 gence, the traveller was about to raise his voice and his 
 stick, but Dounia, accustomed to such scenes, ran out, and
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 237 
 
 softly addressing the stranger, asked him whether he 
 would be pleased to take some refreshment ! Dounia's 
 appearance produced its usual effect. The traveller's 
 anger passed off; he consented to wait for the horses, 
 and ordered supper. Upon taking off his wet rough cap, 
 undoing his shawl, and throwing off his cloak, the 
 traveller turned out to be a slight young Hussar, with a 
 small black moustache. He made himself at home, and 
 conversed gaily with the station-master and his daughter. 
 Supper was served. Horses had in the meanwhile re- 
 turned, and the station-master ordered their being put to 
 without being even baited ; but on re-entering the room, 
 he found the young man on a form, almost insensible : he 
 had suddenly felt faint, his head ached, and he could not 
 possibly proceed on his journey. What was to be done ? 
 The station-master gave up his bed to him, and it was 
 decided that the doctor at S * * * should be sent for, 
 should the patient not feel better in the morning. 
 
 The next day the Hussar was worse. His servant rode 
 off to the town for the doctor. Dounia bound his head 
 with a handkerchief steeped in vinegar, and sat down at 
 her work by his bedside. In the station-master's pre- 
 sence, the patient groaned and scarcely spoke ; but he 
 managed nevertheless to empty two cups of coffee, and, 
 still groaning, to order his dinner. Dounia never left 
 him. He was constantly calling for something to drink, 
 and Dounia would hold up a mug of lemonade, which she 
 had herself prepared. The patient would wet his lips, 
 and whenever he returned the mug, his feeble hand 
 pressed Dounia's in token of gratitude. The doctor
 
 238 SUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 arrived towards noon. He felt the patient's pulse, had' 
 some conversation with him in German, and declared in 
 Russian that all he required was rest, and that in a 
 couple of days he would be able to resume his journey. 
 The Hussar handed him twenty-five roubles as his fee, 
 and invited him to dinner. The doctor accepted ; they 
 ate with good appetites, drank a bottle of wine, and' 
 parted perfectly satisfied with each other. 
 
 Another day passed, and the Hussar was quite himself 
 again. He was exceedingly cheerful, joking incessantly, 
 now with Dounia, then with the station-master, whistling 
 all sorts of tunes, talking to the travellers, copying their 
 orders for horses into the post-book, and he contrived to 
 ingratiate himself so much with the good-natured station- 
 master, that he felt sorry to part with his amiable host 
 when the third morning arrived. It was a Sunday. 
 Dounia was preparing for Mass. The Hussar's carriage 
 drove up. He took leave of the station-master, having 
 rewarded him liberally for his board and hospitality ; he 
 also bid Dounia good-bye, and offered to drive her as far 
 as the church, which was situated at the very extreme of 
 the village. Dounia looked perplexed " What art thou. 
 afraid of ?" said her father : " his excellency is not a 
 wolf, and will not eat thee ; take a drive as far as the 
 church." Dounia took her seat in the carriage next to 
 the Hussar, the servant jumped into the rumble, the 
 driver whistled, and the horses were off. 
 
 The poor station-master was not able to understand 
 how he, of his own accord, should have allowed Dounia 
 to drive off with the Hussar ; how he could have been
 
 THE STA TION-MASTER. 23& 
 
 blinded to such an extent, and what could have pos- 
 sessed him. Half an hour had not elapsed when his 
 heart already ached, and he felt so much anxiety, that he 
 could contain himself no longer, and accordingly strode 
 off to the church. On reaching it, he saw that the people 
 were already dispersing, but Dounia was neither within 
 the enclosure nor yet at the porch. He hurriedly entered 
 the church ; the priest was emerging from behind the 
 altar ; the clerk was extinguishing the candles ; two old 
 women were still praying in a corner ; but no Dounia 
 was to be seen. The poor father could scarcely make up 
 his mind to ask the clerk whether she had been at Mass. 
 The clerk answered that she had not. The station-master 
 returned home, neither dead nor alive. One hope re- 
 mained. Dounia might possibly, young and thoughtless 
 as she was, have taken it into her head to go on to the 
 next station, where her godmother lived. He awaited 
 in a desperate state of agitation the return of the troika 
 which had carried them off. No driver returned. At 
 last towards evening he appeared, but alone and tipsy, 
 with the killing news that Dounia had gone off with the 
 Hussar. 
 
 This disaster was too much for the old man ; he imme- 
 diately took to the bed where the young deceiver had 
 lain but the day before. And he now conjectured, after 
 pondering over all the late circumstances, that the illness 
 had been feigned. The poor fellow was attacked by a 
 serious fever ; he was taken into the town of S * * *, and 
 another station-master was temporarily appointed to 
 replace him. The medical man who had seen the Hussar,
 
 240 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 attended him also. He assured him that the young man 
 was in perfect health, and that he had, even when he 
 visited him, a suspicion of his wicked intentions, but had 
 observed silence for fear of his chastisement. Whether 
 what the German said was true, or whether he only 
 wished to make a boast of his foresight, he did not 
 minister any consolation to the poor sufferer. Scarcely 
 had he recovered from his illness than the station-master 
 at once applied to the post- master at S * * * for two 
 months' leave of absence, and without saying a word 
 respecting his intentions, set out on foot, in search of his 
 daughter. He knew by his papers, that the Cavalry 
 Captain Minsky was going from Smolensk to St. Peters- 
 burgh. The man who had driven him had said, that 
 though she appeared to go willingly, Dounia had cried 
 the whole way. " It is just possible," thought the 
 station-master, " that I may bring home my little lost 
 sheep." He arrived at St. Petersburg with this idea, 
 and stopping at the Ismailoffsky Barracks put up at the 
 quarters of a retired sub-officer, an old comrade : and 
 commenced his search. He soon learnt that Minsky was 
 at St. Petersburg, staying at Demouth's Inn. The 
 station-master decided upon going to him. 
 
 He appeared at his door early the following morning, 
 and asked to be announced as an old soldier who wished 
 to see his excellency. The military servant, who was 
 cleaning a boot on a last, declared that his master was 
 asleep, and that he saw no one before eleven o'clock. 
 The station-master went away and returned at the 
 appointed hour. Minsky himself came to him, in his
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 241 
 
 dressing-gown and a red smoking cap. " What is it thou 
 wantest, my friend ?" he asked. The old man's heart 
 beat fast, tears gushed to his eyes, and he could only 
 utter in a trembling voice : "Your excellency ! for God's 
 sake do me the favour !" Minsky threw a quick glance 
 at him, bridled up, took him by the hand, led him into 
 his study, and closed the door. " Your excellency !" the 
 old man continued, " what is fallen is lost ; give me back 
 my poor Dounia. You have trifled sufficiently with her; 
 do not ruin her uselessly." " What is done cannot be 
 undone," said the young man in extreme confusion. " I 
 am guilty before thee and ready to ask thy forgiveness ; 
 but do not imagine I can abandon Dounia ; she will be 
 jappy, I give thee my word for it. What dost thou 
 '.vant her for ? She loves me, she is no longer accustomed 
 
 > her former mode of living. Neither of you will be 
 ible to forget the past." Here he slipped something into 
 ohe old man's sleeve, opened the door, and the station- 
 
 i uister found himself in the street, he scarcely knew how. 
 For a long time he stood motionless ; at last he noticed 
 a roll of paper in the cuff of his sleeve ; he drew it out, 
 and unrolled several bank-notes of the value of five and 
 ten roubles. Tears came to his eyes again tears of indig- 
 nation ! He crushed the notes, threw them from him, 
 trampled them under-foot, and walked away. Having 
 proceeded a few paces, he stopped, reflected, and retraced 
 his steps but no bank-notes were there. A well-dressed 
 young man on seeing him rushed up to a droshky, into 
 which he hastily threw himself and shouted out : 
 " Go on !" The station-master did not follow him. He 
 
 16
 
 242 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 had made up his mind to return home, but he wished to 
 see his poor Dounia once again before leaving. With this 
 end in view he returned to Minsky two days later ; but 
 the soldier-servant roughly told him that his master 
 received no one, and pushing him out of the hall, slammed 
 the door in his face. The station-master waited, and still 
 waited, and then went his way. 
 
 He was walking along the Leteynaya that same 
 evening, having listened to a Te Deum at the Church of 
 Vseh Skarbiastchech.* A smart droshky suddenly dashed 
 past him, and he recognized Minsky. The droshky 
 stopped at the entrance of a three-storied house, and the 
 Hussar ran up the steps. A happy thought flashed across 
 the station-master. ' He turned back, and approaching 
 the coachman : " Whose horse is this, my friend ?" asked 
 he; "not Minsky's ?" "Yes, Minsky 's," answered the 
 coachman : " what dost thou want ?" " Why, this ; thy 
 master ordered me to take a note to his Dounia, and I 
 have forgotten where his Dounia lives." " It is here she 
 lives, on the second floor. Thou art too late with thy 
 note,' my friend: he is with her himself now." "No 
 matter," said the station-master, with a violent beating 
 of the heart ; " thanks for directing me ; I shall know how 
 to manage my business." And with these words he 
 "walked up the flight of stairs. 
 
 The doors were closed ; he rang. For several seconds 
 he stood in uneasy expectation. The key rustled ; the 
 doors were opened. "Does Avdotia Samsonovna live 
 
 * All the afflicted. Tr.
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. 243 
 
 here ?" asked he. " Yes," answered the young servant. 
 " What dost thou want her for ?" The station-master, 
 without saying a word, entered the ante- room. " You 
 cannot come in, you cannot come in," shouted the girl 
 after him " Avdolia Samsonovna has visitors." But the 
 station-master walked on without heeding her. The first 
 two rooms were dark, there were lights in the third. He 
 approached the open door and stopped; Minsky was 
 seated thoughtfully in this richly furnished apartment. 
 Dounia, dressed in all the luxury of fashion, was sitting 
 on the arm of his easy -chair, like a horsewoman in her 
 English saddle, looking tenderly down upon Minsky, and 
 twisting his dark curls with her j swelled fingers. Poor 
 station-master ! Never had he seen his daughter lookinor 
 
 o o 
 
 so beautiful ! He could not help admiring her. " Who 
 is there ?" asked she, without raising her head. He 
 remained silent. Not receiving any reply, Dounia looked 
 up and uttering a cry, fell to the floor. The alarmed 
 Minsky rushed to raise her, but on becoming aware of 
 the old station-master's presence, he left Dounia and 
 approached him, quivering with rage : " What dost thou 
 want ?" said he, clenching his teeth. " Why dost thou 
 track me, as if I were a brigand ? Dost thou want to 
 murder me ? Be off!" And seizing the old man by the 
 collar, with a strong arm he pushed him down the stairs. 
 The old man returned to his rooms. His friend ad- 
 vised him to lodge a complaint ; but the station-master 
 having reflected awhile, waved his hand, and decided 
 upon giving it up. Two days later he left St. Petersburg, 
 and returned direct to his station, where he resumed his 
 
 162
 
 244 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 .duties. " This is now the third year that I live without 
 Dounia, and I have neither heard from her, nor have I 
 seen her. God knows whether she is alive or dead. 
 Anything may happen. She is neither the first nor the 
 last who has been enticed away by a scampish wayfarer, 
 and who has first been cared for, and then deserted. 
 There are plenty of these young simpletons at St. Peters- 
 burg, who are to-day in satins and velvet, and to-morrow 
 you see them sweeping the streets in degraded misery. 
 When the thought crosses me that Dounia may be ruining 
 herself in the same manner, one sins involuntarily, and 
 wishes she were in the grave." 
 
 Such was the story of my friend the old station-master 
 a story more than once interrupted by tears, which lie 
 picturesquely wiped away with his coat-tails, like zealous 
 Terentitch in DmitriefFs beautiful ballad. Those tears 
 were partly induced by the punch, of which he emptied 
 five glasses during his recital ; but be that as it may, they 
 touched me deeply. Having taken my leave, it was long 
 before I could forget the old station-master, and long did 
 I think of poor Dounia. 
 
 Lately again, on passing through * * * I recollected 
 my friend. I learned that the station which he had 
 superintended had been abolished. To my inquiry, " Is 
 the old station-master alive ?" I could obtain no satis- 
 factory answer. I made up my mind to visit the familiar 
 locality, and, hiring a private conveyance, I left for the 
 village of N. 
 
 It was autumn. Gray clouds obscured the sky ; a cold 
 wind --pnt. over the reaped fields, carrying before it the
 
 THE STATION-MASTER. iM5 
 
 red and yellow leaves that lay in its course. I entered 
 the village at sunset and stopped before the little post- 
 house. A fat old woman came into the lobby (where poor 
 Dounia had once kissed me) and replied to my inquiries 
 by saying that the old station-master had been dead about 
 a year, that a brewer was settled in his house, and that 
 she herself was the brewer's wife. I began to regret my 
 useless drive and the seven roubles I had proh'tlessly ex- 
 pended. 
 
 " What did he die of ?" I inquired of the brewer's 
 wife. 
 
 " Drink, sir," answered she. 
 
 " And where is he buried ?" 
 
 " Behind the enclosure, next to his late missus." 
 
 " Could anybody conduct me to the grave ?" 
 
 " Why not ? Here, Vanka ! leave off pulling the cat 
 about. Take this gentleman to the churchyard, and show 
 him the station-master's grave." 
 
 At these words a ragged, red-haired lad, who was blind 
 of one eye, ran up to me, and set out as my guide. 
 
 " Didst thou know the dead man ?" I asked him by the 
 way. 
 
 " How was I not to know him ? He taught me how 
 to make reed whistles. Many a time have we shouted 
 after him when on his way from the public- house (God 
 rest his soul !), ' Daddy, daddy, give us some nuts !' And 
 he would then throw nuts at us. He always played with 
 us." 
 
 " And do travellers ever talk of him ?" 
 
 "There are few travellers now. The assessor may oc-
 
 246 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 casionally turn in this way, but it is not the dead he cares 
 for ! In the summer, a lady actually did drive by, and 
 she did ask after the station-master, and went to see his 
 grave." 
 
 "What lady ?" asked I, with curiosity. 
 
 " A beautiful lady," answered the lad : " she drove a 
 coach and six horses, with three little gentlemen, a wet- 
 nurse, and a black pug dog, and when told that the old 
 station-master had died, she began to cry, and said to the 
 children, 'Sit you here quietly, whilst I go to the church- 
 yard.' Well, I offered to show her the way. But the 
 lady said: ' I know the road myself/ and she gave me 
 five kopecks in silver such a lady !" 
 
 We arrived at the cemetery, a bare place, with nothing 
 to mark its limits, strewn with wooden crosses, with not 
 a tree to shade it. Never in my life had I seen such a 
 melancholy grave-yard. 
 
 "This is the grave of the old station-master," said the 
 boy, jumping on a mound of earth, over which a black 
 cross with a copper image was placed. 
 
 " And the lady came here ?" asked I. 
 
 " Yes," answered Vanka. " I looked at her from a dis- 
 tance. She threw herself down here, and so she lay a 
 long time. Then she went into the village, called the 
 priest, gave him some money, and drove away ; and ta 
 me she gave five kopecks in silver a splendid lady !" 
 
 I also gave the lad five kopecks, and no longer regretted 
 my journey, or the seven roubles I had spent.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE 
 GREAT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AMONGST the number of young men sent abroad by Peter 
 the Great for the purpose of acquiring the knowledge so 
 indispensable to an empire undergoing reformation, was 
 his godson, the negro Ibrahim.* He had been educated 
 at the Military Academy of Paris, which he quitted with 
 the rank of a Captain of Artillery. He distinguished 
 himself in the Spanish war, and returned to the French 
 capital severely wounded. The emperor found time, in 
 the midst of his extensive occupations, to inquire un- 
 ceasingly after his favourite, and always received flattering 
 reports of his conduct and progress. Peter was pleased 
 with him above measure, and more than once invited him 
 to return to Russia, but Ibrahim was in no haste. He 
 found frequent cause for excuse; at one time it was his 
 wound, at another a wish to perfect his studies, then a 
 want of money ; and Peter was indulgent, entreated him 
 
 * An ancestor of Poushkin, whose real name was Hannibal. Tr.
 
 248 KUSSJAN ROMANCE. 
 
 to nurse his health, thanked him for his zeal in the pur- 
 suit of knowledge, and although extremely careful in his 
 own expenditure, was not sparing in his supplies to him, 
 and the ducats were accompanied by fatherly advice and 
 instructions for his guidance. 
 
 Judging by all historical memoirs, nothing could be 
 compared to the frivolity, folly, and luxury of the French 
 at that period. No traces were left of the last years of 
 the reign of Louis XIV., so marked by austere piety, 
 gravity, and decorum at court. The Duke of Orleans, 
 who to so many brilliant qualities united vice of every 
 kind, was unfortunately iree of every shadow of hypo- 
 crisy. The orgies of the Palais Royal were no secret ; the 
 example was contagious. At that time Law appeared, 
 whose love of money was joined to a thirst after pleasures 
 and enjoyment; fortunes were squandered, morality was 
 on the wane ; the French were merry and prodigal, and 
 the empire was crumbling to the music of satirical vaude- 
 villes. 
 
 Society in the meanwhile presented a most interesting 
 picture. Civilization and a desire for amusements had 
 made all classes akin. Riches, gallantly, fame, talents, 
 peculiarities, even, everything that gave food to curiosity 
 and promised diversion, was received with equal good- 
 will. Literature, learning, and philosophy quitted their 
 retirement to appear within the circle of the great world, 
 to gratify fashion and govern its opinions. The women 
 reigned, but did not now clamour for adoration. A super- 
 ficial politeness had replaced the profound respect which 
 had formerly been paid to them. The follies of the Duke
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 249 
 
 de Richelieu, that Alcibiades of the modern Athens, belong 
 to history, and give an insight into the morals of those 
 
 times. 
 
 Temps fortun^, marque" par la licence, 
 Ou lafolie, agitant son, grelot, 
 D'un pied Uger parcourt toute la France, 
 Ou nul mortel ne daigne etre devot, 
 Ou I'onfait tout excepte penitence. 
 
 The appearance of Ibrahim, his exterior, his education, 
 and his natural talents attracted universal attention in 
 Paris. All the ladies sought to receive le Negre du Czar, 
 and caught at him from each other. The regent invited 
 him more than once to his cheerful evening parties ; he 
 was a guest at the suppers which were enlivened by the 
 youth of Arouet, the age of Cholier, and the conversation 
 of Montesquieu and Fontenelle. He did not miss a single 
 ball, a single fete, a single first performance, and rushed 
 into the great whirlpool with all the impetuosity of his 
 years and of his temperament. But it was not only the 
 idea of exchanging these brilliant entertainments for the 
 simplicity of the court of Petersburg that alarmed Ibra- 
 him ; other and stronger ties bound him to Paris. 
 
 The Countess L , no longer in the first bloom of 
 
 youth, was still famed for her beauty. On leaving the 
 convent at the age of seventeen, she had been wedded to 
 a man to whom she had not had time to become attached, 
 and who did not afterwards try to gain her affections- 
 Rumour ascribed to her many lovers ; but owing to the 
 forbearing construction of society, she enjoyed an un- 
 sullied reputation, for no one had ever been able to lay at 
 her door any adventures in the least way ridiculous or
 
 250 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 equivocal. Her salons were among the most fashionable : 
 the ilite of Parisian society assembled in them. Ibrahim 
 had been introduced to her by young Merville, who was 
 generally supposed to have been her latest lover, a repu- 
 tation he endeavoured to sustain by all possible means. 
 
 The countess received Ibrahim politely, but without 
 any marked attention : he was flattered. The young 
 negro had got accustomed to being looked upon as a 
 wonder, to see himself surrounded and assailed by com- 
 pliments and questions ; and this curiosity, hidden though 
 it was by a semblance of good-will, wounded his vanity. 
 The sweet attention of women, which we so strive by every 
 effort to win, far from causing him any pleasure, filled 
 him rather with bitterness and indignation. He felt that 
 he was considered by them to be but a rare sort of animal, 
 of a different creation, who had accidentally dropped in 
 their midst, and who possessed nothing in common with 
 them. He even envied those people who remained un- 
 noticed, and considered them fortunate in their insig- 
 nificance. 
 
 The feeling that nature had debarred him from in- 
 spiring any passion raised him above self-confidence and 
 ambitious pretensions, and invested his intercourse with 
 women with a rare charm. His conversation was un- 
 affected and dignified. He pleased the Countess L , 
 
 who had got weary of the refined jests and artful insinua- 
 tions of French wits. Ibi'ahim frequently visited her. 
 She gradually became accustomed to the young negro's 
 appearance, and ended by seeing something pleasant in 
 this curly head, the blackness of which stood out con-
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 251 
 
 spicuously among the powdered wigs in her reception- 
 rooms. (Ibrahim had been wounded in the head, and 
 wore a bandage in lieu of a wig.) His age was twenty- 
 seven, l)e was tall and well proportioned, and more than 
 one beauty had looked upon him with a sentiment far 
 more flattering than that of sheer cusiosity ; but the pre- 
 judiced Ibrahim either was not aware of it, or considered, 
 it mere coquetry. So soon, however, as his looks met 
 those of the countess, his mistrust vanished. There was 
 so much sweet kindliness in the expression of her eyes, 
 her deportment towards him was so frank, so unaffected, 
 that it was impossible to suspect in her the least shadow 
 of wantonness or mockery. 
 
 He never thought of love, but that he should see the 
 countess daily had become an absolute necessity. He 
 sought to meet her everywhere, and yet each meeting 
 seemed to him to be an unexpected favour from heaven. 
 The countess had guessed his feelings, before he himself 
 had done so, so certain is it that a hopeless, self-denying 
 love touches a woman's heart more surely than do all 
 the artifices of vice. When Ibrahim was present, the 
 countess followed all his movements, and cherished 
 every word he uttered ; away from him she became pen- 
 sive, and relapsed into her habitual absence of mind. 
 Merville was the first to notice this mutual inclination, 
 and congratulated Ibrahim. Nothing aids so much to 
 intensify love, as the approbation of a casual observer. 
 Love is blind, and afraid to trust itself ; it clutches greedily 
 at any support. 
 
 Ibrahim's was roused by Merville's words. The pos-
 
 252 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 sibility of possessing the woman he loved, had not hitherto 
 crossed his mind ; hope burst suddenly into his very soul ; 
 he loved desperately. It was in vain that the countess, 
 alarmed at the demonstration of his passion, endeavoured 
 to oppose it by friendly exhortations, and the counsels of 
 reason ; she felt that she wavered .... 
 
 Nothing escapes the attention of an observing world. 
 The countess's new attachment soon became universally 
 known. Some ladies wondered at her choice ; many 
 thought it a very natural one. Some jeered at it, whilst 
 others called it an unpardonable imprudence. In their 
 first rapture, Ibrahim and the countess remained in- 
 sensible to what was passing ; but soon the ambiguous 
 jokes of the men, and the caustic criticisms of the women, 
 reached their ears. Ibrahim's dignitied aud cold demean- 
 our had hitherto ensured him against such attacks. He 
 bore them impatiently, and knew not how to avert them. 
 Accustomed as she had been to the esteem of society, the 
 countess could not bear with indifference to see her- 
 self becoming the object of scandal and ridicule. At one 
 time she would complain with tears to Ibrahim ; at an- 
 other, she would bitterly reproach him; again, she would 
 implore him not to take her part, so that she should not 
 be entirely lost, through fruitless justifications .... 
 
 Ibrahim loved passionately, and was also beloved ; but 
 the countess was capricious and inconstant. It was not 
 for the first time that she loved. Aversion, even hatred, 
 would replace in her heart the most tender feelings.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 253 
 
 Ibrahim already foresaw the moment when she would be 
 lost to him. He had not hitherto known what jealousy 
 was, but now felt a dread presentiment of it ; he imagined 
 that the pang at parting would be less terrible, and medi- 
 tated the rending asunder of this unfortunate connection, 
 by leaving Paris and returning to Russia, whither Peter, 
 and a vague feeling of duty, had long been calling him. 
 
 CHAPTER, II. 
 
 DAYS and months went by, and the enamoured Ibrahim 
 could not make up his mind to quit the countess, whose 
 attachment towards him grew with every hour. The 
 busy tongue of scandal had ceased to work, and the lovers 
 began to breathe more freely as they remembered in 
 silence the storm which had passed over them, and en- 
 deavoured not to think of the future. 
 
 One day Ibrahim attended the Duke of Orleans' recep- 
 tion. The duke stopped as he passed him, handed to him 
 a letter, and commanded that it should be read at his 
 leisure. The letter was from Peter I. The emperor, guess- 
 ing the real cause of Ibrahim's absence, wrote word to 
 the duke that he had no intention of influencing Ibra- 
 
 o 
 
 him's movements; that he left it to his free will whether 
 to return to Russia or not ; but in any case he would 
 never forsake his foster son. This letter touched Ibrahim 
 deeply. From that moment his resolution was taken. 
 On the following day he informed the regent that it was 
 his intention to proceed to Russia without delay. " Think
 
 254 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 well over the step you are about to take," said the duke. 
 " Russia is not your country. I do not suppose that chance 
 will ever again lead you to see your burning native clime, 
 but your long sojourn in France has in an equal degree 
 estranged you from the climate and half savage mode of 
 life in "Russia. You were not born a subject of Peter. 
 Hearken to my advice ; take advantage of his generous 
 permission, remain in France a country for which you 
 have already shed your blood and be assured that here 
 also your services and your talents will not go unrewarded." 
 Ibrahim thanked the duke warmly, but adhered firmly 
 to his resolution. " I regret it," said the regent ; " but 
 you are right." He promised him his discharge from the 
 service, and communicated all that had taken place to the 
 Russian czar. 
 
 Ibrahim's preparations for his journey were soon got 
 over. Oh the eve of his departure, he spent the evening 
 
 as usual at the Countess L 's. She was ignorant of 
 
 what was passing, Ibraham had not the courage to disclose 
 his plans to her. The countess was undisturbed and 
 cheerful. She called him several times to her side, and 
 teased him for looking so grave. After supper, her guests 
 left. The countess, her husband, and Ibrahim remained 
 in the drawing-room. The unhappy lover would have 
 given worlds to have been left alone with her ; but the 
 
 Count L had settled down so comfortably before the 
 
 fire, that there was no hope of getting rid cf him. All 
 were silent. "Bonne nuit," said the countess at last. 
 Ibrahim's heart failed him, and he suddenly felt all the 
 anguish of separation. He stood motionless. " Bonne
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 255 
 
 nuit, messieurs," repeated the countess. And still he re- 
 mained immovable .... His eyes grew dim, his head 
 swam : he was scarcely able to rush out of the room. 
 Reaching home, he wrote in an almost unconscious 
 state, the following letter : 
 
 " I am going, dear Leonora ; I leave thee for ever. I 
 write, because I have not the strength to explain myself 
 otherwise. 
 
 " My happiness could not have lasted ; my destiny and 
 nature were equally against me, and still, I was happy. 
 Thou would'st have ceased to love me ; the spell must 
 have been broken. This thought has persecuted me, 
 even at such moments when I fancied I had forgotten all; 
 when at thy feet, my whole being was impressed by thy 
 touching self-abnegation, thy unlimited tenderness .... 
 The frivolous world persecutes mercilessly the facts, of 
 which it admits the theory: its cold raillery would 
 sooner or later have overcome thee, humbled thy proud 
 soul .... and thou would'st at last have felt ashamed 
 of thy passion .... What would then have become of 
 me ? No, better to die, better to leave thee before that 
 terrible moment .... 
 
 " Thy peace is dearer than all else to me ; thou could'st 
 not enjoy it, so long as the eyes of the world were fixed 
 on us. Remember all thou hast suffered thy wounded 
 vanity, all the torments of apprehension .... Consider : 
 am I justified in subjecting thee any longer to similar 
 conflicts and perils ? Why should I struggle to unite the 
 fate of such a tender, beautiful being, to the luckless
 
 256 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 destiny of a negro, a pitiful creature, barely worthy the 
 name of man ! 
 
 "Farewell, Leonora, farewell, my beloved, my only 
 friend. I leave thee. I leave the tirst and last joy of my life. 
 I have no fatherland, no kindred. I go to Russia, where 
 my complete seclusion will become a consolation to me. 
 Serious occupations, to which I devote myself from this 
 hour, if they cannot smother, will at least divert the 
 agonizing reminiscences of those days of rapture and 
 delight. Farewell, Leonora, I tear myself from this 
 letter, as I would from thy embrace. Farewell, be happy, 
 and think now and then of the poor negro, of thy faithful 
 
 " IBRAHIM." 
 
 That same night he took his departure for Russia. He 
 did not find the journey as insupportable as he had 
 expected. His imagination triumphed over the reality. 
 The farther he left Paris behind him, the more vividly, 
 the nearer did he picture to himself the objects he was 
 leaving for ever. 
 
 He found himself imperceptibly at the Russian frontier. 
 Autumn was already setting in ; but the yemstchicks, 
 notwithstanding the bad state of the roads, drove him 
 with lightning speed and he arrived on the seventeenth 
 day of his journey at Krassnoye Sel6, through which the 
 post road at that time lay. 
 
 Petersburg was distant twenty-eight versts. Ibrahim 
 entered the yemstchick's hut, while the horses were being 
 changed. In the corner, leaning on the table, sat a tall 
 man, dressed in a green caftan with a clay pipe in his
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 257 
 
 mouth, reading the Hamburg paper. Hearing somebody 
 enter, he raised his head. " Bah ! Ibrahim !" he ex- 
 claimed, rising from the bench. "How art thou, godson?" 
 Ibrahim recognized Peter, and was about to rush at him 
 in his joy, but he respectfully checked himself. The 
 emperor embraced him, and kissed him on the head. " I 
 was apprised of thy approaching arrival," said Peter, " and 
 I have come to meet thee. I have been waiting here for 
 thee, since yesterday." Ibrahim could find no words to 
 express his gratitude. " Order thy carriage to follow us," 
 continued the emperor, " and sit with me." 
 
 The emperor's carriage drove up; they took their 
 places, and galloped off. In an hour and a half, they 
 reached Petersburg. Ibrahim looked with curiosity on the 
 newborn capital rising out of a swamp, at the nod of the 
 sovereign. Dams, canals without quays, wooden bridges, 
 exhibited in every direction the recent triumph of human 
 ingenuity over the oppositions of the elements. Houses 
 had been hastily erected ; there was nothing magnificent 
 about the whole town with the exception of the Neva, 
 which, though not yet adorned by its granite frame, was 
 already covered with ships of war and merchant vessels. 
 The imperial carriage stopped at the palace, that is to 
 say at the Tzaritzin Gardens. Peter was met at the door 
 by a woman of about five-and-thirty, beautiful, and 
 dressed after the latest Paris fashions. Peter kissed her, 
 and .taking Ibrahim by the hand, said : " Hast thou 
 recognized my godson, Kdtinka ? Pray love him as you 
 have done before." Catherine fixed her sharp black eyes 
 on him, and graciously held out her hand. Two youthful 
 
 17
 
 258 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 beauties, tall, elegant, and blooming like two roses, stood 
 behind her, and approached Peter respectfully. " Lisa," 
 said he to one of them, " dost thou remember the little 
 negro who used to steal for thee my apples at Oranien- 
 baum ? Here he is, let me introduce him." The grand 
 duchess laughed and blushed. They proceeded to the 
 dining-room. The emperor had been expected and the table 
 was laid. Peter sat down to dinner with all his family, 
 and Ibrahim whom he had invited. During dinner the 
 emperor conversed with him upon various subjects, made 
 inquiries about the Spanish war, asked about the internal 
 state of affairs in France, after the regent, of whom he 
 was fond, though he perceived much to blame in him. 
 Ibrahim was endowed with a quick and observing mind. 
 Peter was well pleased with his replies. He called to 
 mind several incidents of Ibrahim's infancy, and related 
 them with so much good nature and cheerfulness, that 
 none could have suspected in the affable and entertaining 
 host, the hero of Pultawa, the mighty, stern regenerator 
 of Russia. 
 
 After dinner the emperor retired to rest, as is the cus- 
 tom in Russia. Ibrahim remained with the empress and the 
 grand duchesses. He endeavoured to satisfy their curi- 
 osity, described the Parisian mode of life, the fetes, the 
 capricious fashions. Soon a few persons attached to the 
 emperor's court, assembled in the palace. Ibrahim recog- 
 nized the pompous Prince Menshikoff, who, upon seeing a 
 negro conversing with Catherine, proudly surveyed him ; 
 also the Prince YakofF Dolgorouky, Peter's harsh counsel- 
 lor ; the learned Bruce, who had acquired the appellation
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 259 
 
 of the Russian Faust ; young Ragouzinsky, his former 
 companion and others, who were the bearers of reports 
 to the emperor, and awaited his orders. 
 
 In a couple of hours the emperor re-appeared. 
 
 " Let us see," said he to Ibrahim, " whether thou 
 rememberest thy former duties. Take a slate and follow 
 me." 
 
 Peter shut himself up in his workshop, and became 
 engrossed in affairs of state. He worked in turns with 
 Bruce, with Prince Dolgorouky, with General Devier, 
 head of the police, and dictated several ukases and edicts 
 to Ibrahim. Ibrahim was amazed at the quickness of his 
 comprehension, the pliability of his powers of application, 
 and the wide range of his sphere of action. At the com- 
 pletion of his labours, Peter drew forth his pocket-book 
 to assure himself that the whole of the day's task had 
 been performed. On leaving the workshop, he said to 
 Ibrahim : 
 
 " It is late ; thou art probably tired ; sleep here as 
 thou used to in old times; to-morrow, I shall awake 
 thee." 
 
 Left to himself, Ibrahim was unable to collect his 
 thoughts. He was at Petersburg. He again saw the 
 great man at whose side, ignorant of his worth, he had 
 spent his childhood. He confessed to himself, almost 
 repentantly, that for the first time since their separation, 
 the countess had not been his only care throughout the 
 day. He felt that the prospect of a new mode of life, 
 activity, and constant occupation, might reanimate him, 
 wearied as he was with passion, idleness, and secret grief 
 
 172
 
 260 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 The idea of becoming the auxiliary of that great man, to 
 influence unitedly with him, the destiny of a great people 
 awakened in him for the first time the noble feeling of 
 ambition. In this state of mind he laid himself down on 
 the camp bed prepared for him and was borne away in 
 his dreams to distant Paris, to the arms of his beloved 
 countess. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE following morning Peter, according to his promise, 
 awoke Ibrahim, and congratulated him upon his pro- 
 motion to the rank of Captain-lieutenant of the Bom- 
 bardier Company of the Preobrajensky Regiment, of 
 which he himself was captain. The courtiers surrounded 
 Ibrahim, each trying in his own way to make the most 
 of the new favourite. The haughty Prince Menshikoff 
 shook him affably by the hand ; SheremetiefF inquired 
 after his Parisian friends, and Golovin invited him to 
 dinner. This last example was followed by the rest, so 
 that Ibrahim received invitations for at least a whole 
 month. 
 
 Ibrahim spent his days monotonously but actively, 
 he did not consequently feel dulL His attachment to the 
 emperor increased daily, as he comprehended his lofty 
 soul the better. To observe the thoughts of a great man, 
 is a most interesting study. Ibrahim beheld Peter in the
 
 THL MOO&OF PETER THE GREAT. 261 
 
 Senate, debating with Boutourline and Dolgorouky on 
 important points of law ; at the Admiralty College found- 
 ing the greatness of Russia by sea ; he saw him during 
 his leisure hours with Feofan, Gavriel, Boujinsky, and 
 Kopiebitch, looking over translations from foreign publi- 
 cations, or visiting manufactories, the artificer's bench, 
 and the learned man's study. Russia appeared to Ibrahim 
 to be an extensive workshop, a vast machine in motion, 
 where each workman was employed, subordinate to an 
 established order. He considered it to be equally his own 
 duty to work at his lathe, and sought to regret the amuse- 
 ments of Paris as little as possible. He found it more 
 difficult to obliterate that other beloved reminiscence ; he 
 often thought of the Countess L., pictured to himself her 
 just indignation, her tears and grief .... But occasion- 
 ally a fearful apprehension oppressed his bosom; the 
 attractions of society, new ties, another favourite he 
 shuddered ; jealousy made his African blood boil and 
 hot tears were ready to course down his sable face. 
 
 He was one morning sitting at work in his study, when 
 he suddenly heard himself loudly addressed in French. 
 Ibrahim turned round sharply and young K., whom he 
 had left at Paris in the whirlpool of the gay capital, 
 embraced him with exclamations of joy. 
 
 "I have only just arrived," said K., "and have come 
 straight to thee. All our friends at Paris desire to be 
 remembered to thee, and regret thy absence. The 
 Countess L. has bid me summon thee back, without fail ; 
 here is a letter from her." 
 
 Ibraham clutched it nervously, and gazed at the well-
 
 262 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 known handwriting on the address, not daring to believe 
 his eyes. 
 
 " How glad I am," continued K., " that thou hast not 
 yet died of ennui, in this barbarous Petersburg ! What 
 art thou doing here ? How dost thou spend thy time ? 
 Who is thy tailor? Has the opera been introduced 
 here ?" 
 
 Ibrahim replied absently that the emperor was prob- 
 ably at work on the shipping wharf. K. burst out 
 laughing. 
 
 " I see," said he, " that I am in the way just now ; we 
 shall chat to our heart's content by-and-by. I am going 
 to present myself to the emperor." 
 
 With these words, he turned on his heel, and rushed 
 out of the room. 
 
 Ibrahim opened the letter, as soon as he was alone. 
 The countess complained, in gentle terms, and reproached 
 him for his dissimulation and mistrust. " Thou sayest," 
 she wrote, " that my peace is dearer than all else to thee. 
 Ibrahim ! if that were true, would'st thou have subjected 
 me to the state into which I was thrown by the unex- 
 pected intelligence of thy departure ? Thou wast afraid 
 lest I might have detained thee. Be assured that in 
 spite of my love, I should have known how to sacrifice 
 it to thy happiness, and to what thou conceivest to be 
 thy duty." The countess concluded her letter with pas- 
 sionate avowals of affection, and implored him to write, 
 were it even from time to time, if there should be no 
 hope of their ever meeting again. 
 
 Ibrahim read the letter twenty times over, and covered
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 263 
 
 the precious lines with kisses of delight. He longed to 
 hear more of the countess, and made up his mind to pro- 
 ceed to the Admiralty, where he hoped to find K , 
 
 when the door opened, and K himself again walked 
 
 in. He had returned from his interview with the em- 
 peror, and seemed, as was his wont, very well satisfied 
 with himself. " Entre nous," said he to Ibrahim, " the 
 emperor is a very odd fellow ; just fancy, I found him in 
 a sort of linen blouse, at the top of the mast of a new 
 ship, whither I was obliged to scramble with my de- 
 spatches. I stood on a rope-ladder, without room enough 
 to perform a decent bow, and I quite lost myself, a thing 
 which has never yet happened to me. However, the 
 emperor, after having read the papers, looked at me 
 from head to foot, and was probably favourably impressed 
 by the taste and elegance in my attire ; at least he 
 smiled, and invited me to this evening's assembly : but I 
 am quite a stranger at Petersburg ; during my six years' 
 absence I have quite forgotten its usages ; pray be my 
 mentor, call for me, and introduce me." Ibrahim con- 
 sented, and hastened to turn the conversation to a subject 
 that interested him the most. " Well, what about the 
 
 Countess L ?" " The countess ? She was of course 
 
 very much distressed at first, at thy departure ; however, 
 she naturally became consoled by degrees, and chose a 
 new lover. Dost thou guess who lie is ? The long Mar- 
 quis R . Why dost thou strain thy negro eyes so ? 
 
 Is it possible that thou art surprised ? Dost thou not 
 know that a lasting sorrow is not in human nature, es-
 
 264 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 pecially in women? Think it over while I go to rest 
 after my journey, and do not forget to call for me." 
 
 What were the feelings that filled Ibrahim's soul ? 
 Jealousy ? Rage ? Despair ? No ; but deep dejection. 
 He repeated to himself : " I had foreseen this ; it could 
 not have been otherwise." He re-opened the countess's 
 letter, read it over again, bowed his head, and wept 
 bitterly, He wept long. Those tears lightened his heart. 
 On looking at his watch, he saw that it was time to go. 
 Ibrahim would fain have stayed at home, but the as- 
 sembly was a matter of duty, and the emperor rigidly 
 required the attendance of his suite. He dressed, and 
 repaired to K 's room. 
 
 K sat in his dressing-gown, reading a French book. 
 
 " So early ?" he exclaimed, on seeing Ibrahim. 
 
 " Early ! Why it is already half-past five ; we shall be 
 
 late ; dress quickly, and let us go." K got flurried, 
 
 and rang with all his might. Servants rushed in; he dressed 
 in a hurry. A French valet handed to him his red-heeled 
 shoes, blue velvet breeches, and a pink coat, embroidered 
 with spangles ; his wig, which had been hastily powdered 
 
 in the ante-room, was also brought to him. K slipped 
 
 his closely cut head into it, called for his sword and gloves, 
 turned himself round at least ten times before the mirror, 
 and declared to Ibrahim that he was ready. Menials 
 assisted them to put on their bear-skin pelisses, and they 
 drove to the Winter Palace. 
 
 K assailed Ibrahim with a multitude of questions. 
 
 " Who was the greatest beauty in Petersburg ? Who had 
 the reputation of being the best dancer ? What dance was
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE ORE AT. 265 
 
 most in vogue ?" Ibrahim satisfied his curiosity, although 
 not disposed to converse, and in this way they reached 
 the palace. A great number of long sledges, old kaly- 
 magas* and gilt carriages were already standing in the 
 meadow. The entrance was crowded with moustachioed 
 and liveried coachmen ; runners in sparkling tinsel and 
 feathers, bearing maces ; hussars, pages, uncouth menials, 
 encumbered with the pelisses and muffs of their masters 
 and mistresses the indispensable retinue of the Boyar of 
 those days. A murmur ran through the crowd, at the 
 sight of Ibrahim. "The negro, the negro, the czar's 
 negro !" He hurried K. on through this motley assembly ; 
 the court lacquey opened the door, and they entered the 
 
 ball-room. K stood petrified .... In a large room 
 
 lit up with tallow candles, which burned dimly amidst 
 the clouds of tobacco smoke, moved in a mass, to and fro, 
 to the sound of incessant music, great men, having blue 
 ribbons across their breasts, ambassadors, foreign mer- 
 chants, officers of the Guards, in their green uniforms, and 
 ship-masters, in short jackets and striped trowsers. The 
 ladies sat round the room, the younger dressed in all the 
 luxury of fashion, their robes covered with gold and silver, 
 and their small waists rising like a flower-stalk out of 
 their extensive hoops ; precious stones glistened in their 
 ears, in their long curls, and around their necks. They 
 looked about them with smiling faces, in expectation of 
 partners, and the commencement of the first dance. The 
 elderly ladies cunningly contrived to combine the new 
 
 * Kalymaga, an old-fashioned vehicle. Tr.
 
 266 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 style of dress with that of the days which were passing 
 away; their caps resembled in shape the sable head- 
 dress of the Empress Natalia Kirilovna,* and their gowns 
 and mantles reminded one forcibly of the sarafan and the 
 dousJiegreyka. It seemed as if they assisted at these 
 newly introduced entertainments with more astonishment 
 than pleasure, and looked with vexation upon the wives 
 and daughters of the Dutch skippers, who, attired in 
 their dimity skirts and red jackets, knitted their stock- 
 ings, laughing and conversing among themselves, as if 
 they were at home. A servant, on noticing the new 
 
 arrivals, approached them with beer and tumblers. K 
 
 could not get over his bewilderment. " Que diable est 
 tout cela ?" asked he of Ibrahim in a whisper. Ibrahim 
 tried to suppress a smile. The empress and the grand 
 duchesses, distinguishable by their personal beauty and 
 elegance of attire, circulated among the rows of guests, 
 with whom they conversed affably. The emperor was 
 
 in the adjoining room. K , who wished to present 
 
 himself, had some difficulty in squeezing his way into it, 
 through the continually moving crowd. It was filled 
 chiefly with foreigners, who smoked their clay pipes, and 
 emptied their clay mugs with much solemnity. The 
 tables were furnished with bottles of beer and wine, 
 leathern tobacco-bags, punch-bowls and chess-boards. 
 Peter sat at one of them playing at draughts with an 
 English skipper. They assiduously saluted each other 
 with puffs of tobacco smoke. The emperor was so taken 
 
 * Natalia Kirilovna Narishkin was the wife of Alexey Michailo- 
 vitch, and mother of Peter the Great. Tr.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREA T. 267 
 
 aback by an unexpected move of his adversary, that he 
 
 did not notice K , who was fidgeting about him. At 
 
 that moment a fat man, whose breast was adorned with 
 an enormous nosegay, burst into the room, announced 
 in a loud voice that dancing was about to commence, 
 and immediately disappeared. Many of the guests fol- 
 lowed, among whom was K . 
 
 He was puzzled at the strange spectacle that presented 
 itself before him. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen stood drawn up in two rows the 
 length of the room, facing each other, to the sound of the 
 most doleful music ; the gentlemen bowed low ; the ladies 
 curtsied lower, first to their front, then to the right, then 
 to the left; again to the front, to the right, and to the 
 left as before. K. stared at this peculiar pastime, and bit 
 his lip. This bowing and curtseying continued for about 
 half an hour ; at last it ceased, and the fat man with the 
 nosegay proclaimed that the ceremonial dance was over 
 and ordered the musicians to strike up the minuet. K. 
 felt delighted, and was preparing to show off. Among 
 the young ladies there was one who had particularly 
 taken his fancy. Her age was about sixteen ; she was 
 richly and tastefully dressed, and sat by the side of an 
 elderly man who looked grave and stern. K. hurried up 
 to her and begged that she would do him the honour to 
 'dance with him. The youthful beauty looked at him with 
 confusion, apparently not knowing what to say. The 
 gentleman who sat next to her frowned. K. awaited her 
 decision ; but the man with the nosegay approached him, 
 led him to the centre of the ball-room, and said gravely :
 
 268 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " Sir, thou hast committed thyself; in the first place, 
 by going up to that young person without making the 
 three obeisances due to her, and in the next, by appro- 
 priating to thyself the right of selecting her, when in the 
 minuet that right belongs to the lady and not to the 
 gentleman; thou must therefore be severely punished 
 namely, thou art to drain the Goblet of the Great Eagle." 
 
 K.'s wonderment went on increasing. In less than a 
 minute he was surrounded by the guests, who noisily de- 
 manded the instant fulfilment of the law. Peter, on 
 hearing the noise and laughter, emerged from the next 
 room, for he was fond of assisting personally at similar 
 punishments. The crowd made a way for him, and he 
 entered the circle, wherein stood the culprit, and in front 
 of him the marshal of the assembly, holding an enormous 
 goblet, filled with malmsey. He was vainly trying to 
 persuade the offender to submit of his own free will to 
 the exigencies of the law. 
 
 " Aha !" said Peter, on seeing K., " thou art in for it, 
 my boy. Deign to drink, monssie, and without wincing." 
 
 There was no refusing. The poor dandy drained the 
 goblet at a pull, and returned it to the marshal. 
 
 " Listen to me, K.," said Peter ; " the breeches thou 
 hast on are of velvet, such as I myself do not wear, and 
 I am a great deal richer than thou art. This is extrava- 
 gance ; look to it, that I do not quarrel with thee." 
 
 Having been thus reproved, K. was about to move out 
 of the circle, when he staggered and all but fell, to the 
 indescribable amusement of the emperor and all the gay 
 company. This event, far from disturbing the equa-
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 269 
 
 niniity of the guests, or their enjoyment, served rather to 
 enhance the pleasures of the evening. The gentlemen 
 recommenced scraping and bowing, the ladies curtseying 
 and striking their heels with great animation, this time 
 quite regardless of keeping time to the music. K. was 
 unfit to take a part in the general merriment. The lady 
 he had chosen, obeying her father, Gavrilo Aphanasitch 
 R., approached Ibrahim, and, lowering her blue eyes, 
 timidly held out her hand to him. Ibrahim danced the 
 minuet with her, and conducted her back to her former 
 seat ; he then went in search of K., and leading him out of 
 the ball-room, put him into his carriage, and drove him 
 home. On the way, K. muttered, unintelligibly, 
 
 "D d assembly! Goblet of the 
 
 Great Eagle! .... ." 
 
 But he soon fell into a deep sleep, and, without know- 
 ing how he got home, how he was undressed and put to 
 bed, he awoke the following morning with a headache, 
 with a vague recollection of the scraping and curtseying, 
 the tobacco-smoke, the man with a nosegay, and the 
 Goblet of the Great Easrle. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I MUST now introduce the indulgent reader to Gavrilo 
 
 Aphanasitch R.* He was descended from an ancient line 
 
 of Boyars, owned enormous property, was hospitable, 
 
 * R. R'jevsky, an ancestor of Poushkin. Tr.
 
 270 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 fond of hawking, and had a numerous retinue ; in a word, 
 he was a genuine Russian barin,* could not, as he ex- 
 pressed himself, bear German innovations, and did his 
 best, so far as concerned himself, to maintain the customs 
 of the good old times which he loved. His daughter was 
 in her seventeenth year. She had lost her mother in her 
 infancy, and was brought up in the old fashion ; that is 
 to say, she was surrounded by old women, nurses, lady 
 friends, and maid-servants, she did gold embroidery, and 
 could neither read nor write. Notwithstanding her 
 father's dislike to everything that came from beyond the 
 seas, he could not resist her desire to learn the German 
 dances of a Swedish officer, who was a prisoner, and lived 
 in their house. This worthy dancing-master was fifty 
 years old, his right leg had been' shot through at Naron, 
 and was, therefore, not very agile at minuets and 
 courants ; but, to make up for it, the left performed with 
 the greatest aptitude and agility the most difficult steps. 
 His pupil was a credit to him. Natalia Gavrilovna was 
 noted for being the best dancer, and this partly accounted 
 for K.'s blunder at the assembly. K. called on Gavrilo 
 Aphanasitch the following day, to offer an apology, but 
 the gay and smart young swell found no favour with the 
 proud nobleman, who wittily termed him a French ape. 
 It was a feast-day. Gavrilo Aphanasitch had invited 
 some of his relatives and friends. A long table was laid 
 in the old fashioned dining-hall. The guests assembled 
 with their wives and daughters, who were at last freed 
 from domestic imprisonment by the ukase of the 
 
 * Gentleman. Tr.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 271 
 
 emperor, who himself set them the first example 
 Natalia Gavrilovna approached each with a silver tray, 
 bearing small golden cups, and every guest drained one, 
 at the same time regretting that the kiss, which used to 
 be bestowed in olden times on such occasions, had gone 
 out of fashion. Dinner was served. The seat of honour, 
 next to the host, was occupied by his own father-in-law, 
 Prince Boris Alekseyevitch Likoff, a septuagenarian; the 
 other guests took their places according to family prece- 
 dence, thus reminding one of the happy times when the 
 ancient consideration for seniority was observed. The 
 men occupied one side of the table, the women the other ; 
 the barskaya barinya* in an old-fashioned bodice; a 
 dwarfish and prirn little woman of thirty, very wrinkled ; 
 and the captive dancing-master, in his faded blue uni- 
 form, took their habitual places at the bottom of the 
 table, which groaned under the weight ( of numberless 
 dishes, and was attended by a great many domestics, 
 amongst whom was the butler, conspicuous by his gravity, 
 his corpulence, and pompous immobility. During the 
 early part of the dinner the attention of the guests was 
 entirely engrossed in the productions of our ancient 
 culinary art ; the clinking of plates and the jingling of 
 spoons alone interrupted the general silence. At last the 
 host bethought himself that the time had come for 
 amusing his guests, and said aloud. 
 
 " Where is Yekimovna ? Let her be called in !" 
 Servants were about to execute the order, when there 
 suddenly entered, dancing and skipping about, an old 
 * A lady pensioner. Tr.
 
 272 HUSSIAX ROMANCE. 
 
 woman, having her face gaudily painted, and herself 
 adorned with flowers and tinsel ; she wore a silk robe, 
 and was bared at the neck and breast. Her appearance 
 was greeted with evident signs of satisfaction. 
 
 " Good-day, Yekimovna," said Prince Likoff. " How 
 dost thou fare !" 
 
 " Prosperously and healthily, koum : singing and 
 dancing, and on the look-out for lovers." 
 
 " Where hast thou been, thou fool ?" inquired the host. 
 
 " Dressing up, koum, in the German fashion for our 
 esteemed guests, for this God's holy day, by order of the 
 czar, by my master's command, to be the laughing stock 
 of the whole world." 
 
 These words caused great merriment, and the fool took 
 her place behind her master's chair. 
 
 " The fool lies and lies, and yet in her lies she some- 
 times says the truth," said Tatiana Aphanasievna, the 
 host's elder sister, for whom he had great regard ; "truly, 
 the present fashions are ridiculous. But whenever you, 
 my good sirs, have been obliged to shave off your beards 
 and don a short-tailed caftan, it is of course of little use 
 my alluding to female finery ; and yet one does regret the 
 sarafan, the maiden's riband, and the pavo'inik !* Look 
 at our young ladies now it is laughable and yet sad: their 
 hair is frizzled until it looks like tow, soiled and sprinkled 
 all over with French flour ; their waists are so straitened 
 that they are all but cut in two ; their skirts are extended 
 with hoops ; they have to get into a carriage sideways, 
 and to stoop when they enter a door ; they can neither 
 * National head dress. Tr.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 273 
 
 stand, nor sit, nor breathe freely they are real martyrs, 
 the little dears !" 
 
 " Oh ! my little mother, Tatiana Aphanasievna," said 
 
 Kirila Petrovitch T , an ex-voi'evode of Riazan, where 
 
 he had secured to himself 3000 souls and a young wife, 
 neither the one nor the other quite honestly, " so far as I 
 am concerned, a wife may dress exactly as she pleases ; 
 she may wear a wrapper or a baldachin if she prefers it, 
 so long as she does not order a new dress every month, 
 and throw the last one away quite new. In times gone 
 by, the grandmother's sarafan formed part of the grand- 
 daughter's dowry ; look at the dresses now ; to-day they 
 are worn by the mistress, to-morrow by her maid. What 
 is to be done ? It is the ruin of the Russian nobility ! 
 A real misfortune !" 
 
 Having said so much, he sighed and glanced at Maria 
 Ilyinitchna, who was not at all pleased, either at his com- 
 mendation of the past, or his censure of the present 
 customs. The other ladies shared in her displeasure, but 
 were silent, for reserve was at that time considered in- 
 dispensable in a young woman. 
 
 " And whose fault is it ?" said Gavrilo Aphanasitch, 
 filling a tankard with frothing kisby stchi ;* " is it not 
 our own ? The young women make themselves ridiculous, 
 and we encourage them." 
 
 " But what are we to do, when we have no choice in 
 
 the matter ?" reiterated Kirila Petrovitch ; " some of us 
 
 would be glad to shut up our wives in the women's 
 
 apartments, but they are required at the beat of the drum 
 
 * A beverage similar to koass. Tr. 
 
 18
 
 274 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 to appear at the assembly! The husband is ready to 
 handle the whip and the wife adorns herself ! Oh ! 
 these assemblies ! They are God's punishment for our 
 sins." 
 
 Maria Kymitchna sat as if on pins and needles, longing 
 to speak ; at last, unable to contain herself any longer, 
 she turned towards her husband, and asked him with a 
 forced smile, what harm he saw at the assemblies. 
 
 " This is the harm I see in them," replied the irate 
 spouse ; " since they have been introduced, the husbands 
 cannot any longer control their wives ; the wives have 
 forgotten the words of the apostle : and the wife see that 
 she reverence lier husband; they do not look to their house- 
 keeping, only to their finery ; neither do they care how 
 they please their husbands, only how to captivate the 
 giddy officers. And is it becoming, I ask, madam, that a 
 Russian Bayarina or Bayarishna* should associate with 
 German tobacconists and their workmen ? Is it^a heard- 
 of thing, that one should dance late into the night and 
 <;hat with young men ! Good, if they were relatives ; 
 but when they are strangers, people they are not ac- 
 quainted with !" 
 
 " I would also have said something, but that the wolf 
 is not far off," said Gavrilo Aphanasitch, looking cross. 
 " I admit that neither do I care for the assemblies ; one 
 runs up against a drunken man before one can look about 
 him, or is even oneself made drunk for the amusement of 
 the company. One has to look out lest some scamp takes 
 
 * Bayarina, wife, Bayarishna unmarried daughter of a Boyar. 
 Tr.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 275 
 
 liberties with one's daughter ; the young men of the day 
 are so forward that they exceed .all bounds. For instance, 
 at the last assembly, the son of the late Yeograf Serghe- 
 itch, K., played such a trick with Natasha that it brought 
 the colour to my cheeks. The next morning I saw some- 
 body drive right into my yard, and I wondered who it 
 was that God sent to me it was perhaps the Prince 
 Alexander Danilitch ? But no ; it was Ivan Yeografo- 
 vitch ! He could not stop at the gate and walk to the 
 house, not he ! In he rushed, bowed, scraped, and chatted, 
 and enough I had of it ! The fool Yekimovna imitates 
 him in a most laughable manner ; by-the-way, fool that 
 thou art, perform the part of the ape from beyond the 
 seas." 
 
 The fool Yekimovna seized a dish-cover, placed it 
 under her arm as if it were a hat, and commenced cutting 
 capers, scraping and bowing on all sides, muttering : 
 Monssie . . . Mamzelle . . . Assemblee . . . pardon ; 
 the merriment that ensued was evidence of universal 
 approbation. 
 
 "K. to a T. . . ." said old Prince Likoff, wiping away 
 the tears excited by laughter. " We need not hide it from 
 ourselves, he is not the first nor will he be the last to 
 return to holy Russia from those Germans transformed to 
 a perfect buffoon. What are our children to learn among 
 them ? To bow and scrape, to chat goodness knows in 
 what sort of a tongue ; to pay no respect to their elders, 
 and to dance attendance upon other men's wives. Of all 
 the young men educated in foreign parts (God forgive 
 
 182
 
 276 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 me !) the czar's negro looks more like a man than any of 
 them." 
 
 "Good gracious, prince !" said Tatiana Aphanasievna; 
 " 1 have seen him, I have seen him close too ; what a 
 dreadful jowl he has got ! And how he frightened poor, 
 simple me !" 
 
 " He is certainly a steady, well-behaved man," observed 
 Gavrilo Aphanastich, " and not to be compared to the 
 others. . . . But who is that driving through the gate 
 into the courtyard ? Can it again be that ape from be- 
 yond the seas ? What are you gaping at, beasts that you 
 are ?" he continued, turning to the servants, " run and 
 say I cannot receive him, and that he is not in future . . ." 
 " Old beard, art thou raving ?" interrupted the fool 
 Yekimovna, " or art thou blind ; it is the emperor's 
 sledge ; the czar has come." 
 
 Gavrilo Aphanasitch rose hastily ; all rushed to the 
 windows, and saw that it was indeed the ernperor, who 
 was walking up the steps, leaning on his soldier servant. 
 Great confusion ensued. The host hastened to meet 
 Peter ; the domestics hurried about in a state of excite- 
 ment ; the guests, taken aback, were thinking, some of 
 them, how to get away. Suddenly the loud voice of 
 Peter resounded in the hall; in the midst of perfect 
 silence the czar walked in accompanied by the master of 
 the house, who was beside himself with joy. " Good- 
 day, gentlemen !" said Peter, cheerfully. All bent low. 
 The czar's quick sight had at a glance sought out the 
 host's youthful daughter; he called her to him. Natalia 
 Gavrilovna approached him bravely enough, though
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 217 
 
 blushing to her shoulders. " Thou art becoming more 
 beautiful every hour," said the emperor, kissing her on 
 the head, as was his wont. Then, turning to the guests : 
 "How now? I have disturbed you. You were at dinner; 
 pray be seated again ; as for myself, Gavrilo Aphanasitch, 
 give me some aniseed vodka" The host flew at the 
 majestic butler, seized the tray out of his hands, filled a 
 small gold cup, and presented it to the emperor with a suit- 
 able inclination. Peter emptied it, took a cracknel, and for 
 the second time invited the visitors to continue their 
 meal. They all resumed their places, with the exceptions 
 of the dwarf and the barskaja-barinya, who did not dare 
 to remain at a table honoured by the czar's presence. 
 Peter sat next to the host, and asked for a plate of stchi. 
 The emperor's servant handed to him a wooden spoon, 
 set in ivory, and a knife and fork with bone handles 
 painted green, for Peter never used any others but his 
 own. The dinner-party which a few minutes previously 
 had been so animated and jovial, was now silent and 
 under restraint. So happy and deferential was the host, 
 that he ate nothing ; the guests followed his example, 
 and listened with reverential awe to the emperor's con- 
 versation in German with the Swedish prisoner, on the 
 subject of the campaign of 1701. The fool Yekimovna, 
 whom the emperor had several times addressed, replied 
 with studied timidity, which by-the-way went far to dis- 
 prove any notions of her innate stupidity. 
 
 At last the dinner ended. The emperor rose, the 
 invited doing the same. " Gavrilo Aphanasitch !" said 
 he to his host ; " I must speak to thee alone." And
 
 278 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 taking his arm, he led him into the drawing-room, closing 
 the door behind him. The company remained in the 
 dining-room, and discussed in whispers the cause for this 
 unexpected visit, and fearing that they might be in the 
 way, they dispersed one by one, without waiting to thank 
 their entertainer for his hospitality. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AFTER the lapse of half an hour the door opened, and 
 Peter walked in. A dignified inclination of the head was 
 his sole acknowledgement of the triple bow of the Prince 
 Likoff, Tatiana Aphanasievna, and Natasha, on his way 
 to the hall. The master of the house helped him on with 
 his red touloup, accompanied him to his sledge, and again 
 thanked him for the honour done to him. 
 Peter drove off. 
 
 On his return to the dining-room, Gavrilo Aphanasitch 
 looked very much troubled ; he angrily ordered the ser- 
 vants to clear away the table as quickly as possible, dis- 
 missed Natasha to her own room, and announcing to his 
 sister and father-in-law that he had something to say to 
 them, led them to the bed-chamber where he usually 
 rested after dinner. The old prince threw himself on the 
 oak four-poster; Tatiana Aphanasievna sank into an old- 
 fashioned silk arm-chair, having provided herself with a 
 foot-stool. Gavrilo Aphanasitch closed the door, took his
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 279 
 
 seat on the bed at the feet of Prince Likoff, and in a low 
 voice commenced the following conversation. 
 
 " The emperor did not come to me for nothing ; guess 
 what his communication was about ?" 
 
 "How can we know, brother?" said Tatiana Apha- 
 nasievna. 
 
 " Has the czar perhaps appointed thee a voi'evode ?" 
 said his father-in-law : " it is quite time it should be so ; 
 or has he entrusted to thee an einbassage ? What then ? 
 Are Secretaries of State only to be thus employed, and 
 may not men of birth also be sent to foreign sove- 
 reigns ?" 
 
 "No," answered the other, knitting his brows: "I am one 
 of the old-fashioned ones ; our services are not required 
 nowadays, although, perchance, an orthodox Russian 
 nobleman is worth all the modern upstarts, bakers and 
 heathens. But this is quite another subject." 
 
 " What was it, then, brother ?" said Tatiana Apha- 
 nasievna, "that kept him talking to thee so long ? No 
 evil threatens thee, I trust. God keep and guard us !" 
 
 "It is not an evil exactly, but I confess that I am 
 troubled." 
 
 " But what is it, brother ? What is it about ?" 
 
 "It concerns Natasha: the czar came to ask her in 
 marriage." 
 
 " Thank God !" said Tatiana Aphanisievna, crossing 
 herself. " The girl is marriageable, and such as is the 
 suitor, so must be the bridegroom. May God bless us 
 with love and good counsel; the honour is great. But 
 to whom does the czar want to marry her ?"
 
 280 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 "Hm!" grunted Gavrilo Aphanasitch; "To whom? 
 that's it. To whom ?" 
 
 " Who can it be ?" repeated Prince Likoff, who had 
 already begun to doze. 
 
 "Guess," said Gavrilo Aphanasitch. 
 
 "Goodness me, brother," replied the old lady: "how- 
 can we guess ? As if there are not enough eligible 
 bridegrooms at court; every one of them would be 
 glad to wed thy Natasha. Is it Dolgorouky per- 
 haps ?" 
 
 " No, not Dolgorouky." 
 
 " Well, he's no loss, he is too haughty. Is it Shorn ? 
 Troyekouroff ?" 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other." 
 
 " Well, I do not care about them either ; they are too 
 wild, and are too much imbued with German notions. 
 Well, then Miloslavsky?" 
 
 " No, it is not he." 
 
 " Then we pass him over : he is rich, but stupid. Who, 
 then ? Yeletsky ? L'voff ? Can it be Ragonzinsky ? I 
 can think of no one else. For whom is it, then, that the 
 czar wants Natasha ?" 
 
 " For the Moor, Ibrahim." 
 
 The old lady threw up her hands with an exclamation. 
 Prince Likoff raised his head off the pillow in astonish- 
 ment, and repeated : " For the Moor, Ibrahim !" 
 
 " Brother !" said the old lady in a suffocating voice : 
 " do not ruin thy own dear child, do not deliver Natash- 
 inka into the claws of that black demon." 
 
 " But what am I to do ?" reiterated Gavrilo Apha-
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 281 
 
 nasitch. "Can I refuse the emperor, who, in return, 
 promises to be gracious to me and to all my house." 
 
 " How !" exclaimed the old prince, who was quite 
 awake now : " to marry my grandchild, Natasha, to 
 a bought Moor ?" 
 
 "He is not of mean extraction," said Gavrilo Apha- 
 nasitch ; " he is the son of the Moorish Sultan. The 
 heathens captured and sold him at Constantinople, and 
 it was our ambassador who redeemed and made a present 
 of him to the czar. The Moor's eldest brother came to 
 Russia with a handsome ransom, and " 
 
 " We know the story of Bova Karalievitch and Yeroos- 
 lan Lazarevitch !"* 
 
 "My little father, Gavrilo Aphanasitch," interrupted 
 the old lady : " let us rather know what answer thou 
 gavest to the emperor ?" 
 
 " I told him that we were in his power, and that our 
 duty as serfs was to obey him in all things." 
 
 At that moment a noise was heard behind the door. 
 Gavrilo Aphanasitch essayed to open it, but met with 
 some resistance. He pushed violently it gave way, and 
 they beheld Natasha stretched on the floor bleeding and 
 swooning. 
 
 Her heart had misgiven her when she saw the em- 
 peror closeted with her father. She had a sort of pre- 
 sentiment that their business concerned herself, and 
 when Gavrilo Aphanasitch had dismissed her with the 
 announcement that he had to confer with her aunt and 
 
 * Characters in a popular tale. Tr.
 
 282 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 grandfather, she could not resist the impulse of female 
 curiosity, so, creeping noiselessly through the inner 
 apartments to the bedroom door, she had not let a single 
 word of the fearful conversation escape her; but on 
 hearing her father's last words, the poor girl lost all con- 
 sciousness, and fell, striking (in her fall) her head against 
 the edge of the iron-bound box which served as the re- 
 ceptacle for her dowry. 
 
 The servants assembled ; Natasha was lifted and car- 
 ried to her own room and laid on the bed. After a few 
 minutes she opened her eyes, but did not recognize either 
 her father or her aunt. A violent fever declared itself; 
 she raved continually about the czar's negro, and of a 
 wedding, and would suddenly cry out, in a plaintive and 
 piercing voice : " Valerian, dear Valerian ! my life ! save 
 me : here they come ! they come !...." 
 
 Tatiana Aphanasievna looked anxiously at her brother, 
 who, turning pale, left the room in silence. He returned 
 to the old prince, who had remained below, unable to 
 ascend the stairs. 
 
 " How is Natasha ?" asked he. "Very ill," answered 
 the grieved father ; " worse than I imagined. She is un- 
 conscious, and raves about Valerian." 
 
 " What Valerian ?" asked the old gentleman, in alarm. 
 "Can it be possible that it is the orphan, the son of the 
 Strelitz whom thou had'st educated ?" 
 
 " Himself, unhappily for me," replied Gavrilo Apha- 
 nasitch. " His father had saved my life during the in- 
 surrection, and it was the devil who induced me to take 
 into my house the rascally little wolf. When I, at his
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 28 
 
 entreaty, got him into the regiment two years ago, 
 Natasha cried bitterly at parting with him, and he him- 
 self stood as if petrified. It struck me then as suspicious, 
 and I spoke of it to my sister. But Natasha has never 
 named him since, and he has given no signs of life. I 
 therefore concluded that she had forgotten him ; but she 
 has not. However, it is settled ; she is to marry the 
 Moor." 
 
 Prince Likoff said nothing in opposition ; it would 
 have been useless ; he went home. Tatiana Aphanasievna 
 remained by Natasha's bedside. Gavrilo Aphanasitch, 
 having sent for a medical man, shut himself up in his 
 room, and the house became still and gloomy. 
 
 The unexpected proposition had astonished Ibrahim 
 fully as much as it had Gavrilo Aphanasitch. It hap- 
 pened thus. Whilst at his work with Ibrahim, Peter 
 said to him, " I have noticea my boy, that thou art out 
 of spirits ; say, what is it thou wishest for ?" 
 
 Ibrahim assured the emperor that he was perfectly 
 contented, and could desire nothing. 
 
 " Very good/' said the emperor, " if thou mopest with- 
 out cause, then I know how to cheer thee up." 
 
 When the work was over, Peter asked Ibrahim, " Does 
 the girl thou didst dance the minuet with at the last 
 assembly please thee ?" 
 
 "She is very charming, sire, and appears to be a 
 modest, good girl." 
 
 " Then I shall contrive that you should know each 
 other better. What sayest thou to marrying her ?" 
 
 " I, sire ?"
 
 284 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 " Just listen to me, Ibrahim ; thou art a lonely man, 
 of no birth or parentage, a stranger to all but me. Were 
 I to die to-morrow, what would become of thee, my poor 
 Moor ? Thou must make thyself a home, whilst there is 
 yet time; thou must find support in new ties, by entering 
 into union with the Russian Boyars." 
 
 " Sire, I am happy under your protection, and in the 
 favour of your majesty ; God grant that I may not out- 
 live my czar and benefactor. I wish for no more; but 
 were I even to entertain the idea of marrying, would the 
 young girl and her relations consent ? My exterior " 
 
 " Thy exterior ? What nonsense ! What is there wrong 
 about thee ? A young girl must submit to the will of 
 her parents ; and we shall see what old Gavrilo Aphana- 
 sitch has to say when I myself shall appear to him as 
 thy suitor." 
 
 So saying, the emperor ordered the sledge and left 
 Ibrahim plunged in thought. 
 
 " Marry !" thought the African, " and why not ? Can 
 it be that I am to spend my life in solitude ; that I am 
 not destined to know the noblest joys and the holiest 
 duties of man, simply because I was born under a burn- 
 ing zone ? I cannot hope to be loved : childish argument 
 For can one believe in love ? Does it exist in the frivo- 
 lous heart of woman ? Having for ever renounced 
 such fascinating delusions, I had devoted myself to 
 other and more real pursuits. The emperor is right ; I 
 must think of the future. By marrying this young girl 
 I shall become connected with the proud Russian no- 
 bility, and shall thus cease to be an intruder in my new
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 285 
 
 fatherland. I shall not exact any love from my wife ; I 
 shall remain satisfied with her fidelity ; I shall secure her 
 friandship by unremitting devotion, trust, and tender- 
 ness." 
 
 Ibrahim was about to return to his occupations, but his 
 imagination had been too much excited. He dropped the 
 papers, and walked out on the quay of the Neva. He 
 suddenly heard Peter's voice, and turning round saw the 
 emperor, who, having dismissed the sledge, walked to- 
 wards him with gaiety in his air. 
 
 " It is all over," said Peter, taking his arm ; " I have 
 made the proposal for thee. To-morrow thou must go to 
 thy father-in-law, but be mindful that thou flatterest his 
 Boyar vanity. Leave thy sledge at the gate, and walk 
 up to the house on foot ; talk to him about his merits, 
 and his high name, and he will be delighted with thee. 
 Now," he continued, swinging his cane, " accompany me 
 to that rogue Danilitch with whom I have to settle for 
 his last break out." 
 
 Ibrahim having thanked Peter warmly for his fatherly 
 solicitude, attended him as far as Prince MenshikofFs 
 magnificent mansion, and then returned home. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE lamp was dimly burning before the glass kivott* in 
 which glittered the gold and silver mountings of the 
 
 * A glass case made to contain images, and thus becoming a 
 shrine. Tr.
 
 286 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 family heirlooms, the Holy Images. The flickering light 
 feebly illuminated the curtained bed and small table, on 
 which stood the medicine bottles with their long slip 
 labels. 
 
 A serving-woman was sitting by the stove at a spin- 
 ning-wheel, and the gentle sound of her spindle alone 
 broke the deep stillness of the room. 
 
 " Who is there ?" uttered a faint voice. 
 
 The woman instantly rose, approached the bed, and 
 softly raised the curtain. 
 
 " Will it soon be day ?" asked Natasha. 
 
 " It is already noon," replied the servant. 
 
 " Oh ! dear me ; but why is it so dark ?" 
 
 " The shutters are closed, miss." 
 
 " Help me to dress at once." 
 
 " No, miss ; it is against the doctor's orders." 
 
 " Am I ill, then ? How long have I been ill ?" 
 
 " Two weeks already." 
 
 " Is it possible ? To me it seems that I lay down only 
 yesterday." 
 
 Natasha relapsed into silence; she endeavoured to 
 collect her scattered thoughts ; something had happened 
 to her, but what it actually was she could not remember. 
 The servant awaited her orders. Just then dull sounds 
 were heard proceeding from below. 
 
 " What is that ?' asked the patient. 
 
 " The masters have dined, they rise from table. Tati- 
 ana Aphanasievna will be here directly." 
 
 Natasha looked pleased. She waved her feeble hand.
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE ORE AT. 287 
 
 The servant dropped the curtain and again sat at her 
 spinning-wheel. 
 
 A few minutes later, a head in a large white cap with 
 dark ribbons peeped in at the door, and asked in a whis- 
 per, " How is Natasha ?' 
 
 " Good-day, aunty," said the patient in a debilitated 
 voice, and Tatiana Aphanasievna hurried to her. 
 
 " Miss is conscious," said the servant, gently pushing an 
 arm-chair towards her. The old lady, with tears in her 
 eyes, kissed the pale worn face of her niece, and sat by 
 her side. She was followed by a German doctor in a 
 black caftan and a sage-looking wig, who felt Natasha's 
 pulse, and announced in Latin, then in Russian, that all 
 danger was over. He called for paper and ink, wrote out 
 a new prescription, and took his leave; the old lady 
 again kissed Natasha and hastened downstairs to Gavrilo 
 Aphanasitch with the pleasing intelligence. 
 
 The czar's Moor, in uniform and sword, hat in hand, 
 sat in the drawing-room in respectful conversation with 
 Gavrilo Aphanasitch. K., lounging on the luxurious sofa, 
 an inattentive listener, was teasing an old harrier; having 
 tired of this occupation, he approached the mirror, the 
 usual resort of idlers, and in it saw reflected Tatiana 
 Aphanasievna looking in at the door, and making signs to 
 her brother, which however he did not notice. 
 
 "You are wanted, Gavrilo Aphanasitch," said K., turn- 
 ing to him and interrupting Ibrahim. 
 
 Gavrilo Aphanasitch instantly joined his sister, and 
 closed the door after him. 
 
 " I admire thy patience," said K. to Ibrahim ; " to have
 
 288 RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 to listen for hours to such rantings on the antiquity of 
 the race of the Likoffs and R'jevskys, and even to have to 
 add thy instructive observations ! In th y place, faurais 
 plant^ Id the old liar and all his breed, Natasha Gavril- 
 ovna included, so full of affectation and feigning to be ill 
 une petite sante. Tell me frankly, is it possible that 
 thou art in love with that little mijauree ?" 
 
 " No," said Ibrahim, " I certainly do not marry from 
 love, but as a speculation, and this only in the event of 
 of her not entertaining a decided dislike to me." 
 
 " Now see here, Ibrahim," observed K., " take my ad- 
 vice this once only ; really I am a much more sensible 
 fellow than I appear to be. Give up this silly idea; do 
 not marry. Methinks thy intended has no particular 
 liking for thee. Do not odd things take place in this 
 world ? For instance, I am certainly not a bad-looking 
 fellow, and yet it has so happened that I have deceived 
 husbands, who, by Jove, were no worse than I. Take thy 
 own case ; dost thou remember our Parisian friend, Count 
 L. ? One cannot rely upon woman's fidelity ; happy he 
 who can take such things coolly. But then ? Is it for 
 thee, with thy excitable, melancholy, and suspicious dis- 
 position, with thy flattened nose and thick lips, with that 
 woolly head, is it for thee to plunge into all the hazards 
 of married life ?" 
 
 " I thank thee for thy friendly advice," interrupted 
 Ibrahim coldly ; " dost thou know the proverb : it is not 
 thy charge to rock strangers' children to sleep." 
 
 " Beware, Ibrahim," replied K., mirthfully, " lest thou 
 should'st have to realize that proverb in its literal sense."
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 289 
 
 In the meantime the conversation in the adjoining 
 room was waxing warm. 
 
 "Thou wilt kill her," the old lady was saying; "she 
 will not survive the sight of him." 
 
 " But judge for thyself," retorted the obstinate brother ; 
 " he has been calling at the house for the last fortnight as. 
 an accepted suitor, and has not seen his intended yet. 
 He might come to the conclusion that her illness is a 
 mere sham, and that we only seek to gain time so as to 
 get rid of him somehow. What will the czar say ? As it 
 is, he has already sent three times to inquire after Na- 
 tasha's health. Please thyself, but I do not mean to quarrel 
 with him." 
 
 " My God !" said Tatiana Aphanasievna, " what will 
 become of her, poor thing ? Allow me, at least, to pre- 
 pare her for such a visit." 
 
 Gavrilo Aphanasitch assented, and returned to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 " God be praised !" said he to Ibrahim ; " all danger is 
 over ; Natasha is much better. I am unwilling to leave 
 my esteemed visitor, Ivan Yeografitch, alone, or I would 
 have conducted thee upstairs to have a look at thy bride 
 elect." 
 
 K congratulated Gavrilo Aphanasitch, begged that 
 
 he would not mind him, assured him that he was obliged 
 to leave just then, and ran out into the ante-room with- 
 out permitting his host to accompany him. 
 
 Tatiana Aphanasievna had hurried to prepare the 
 patient for the reception of the strange visitor. She 
 entered the room, and sitting down out of breath by the 
 
 19
 
 2!X> RUSSIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 fireside, took Natasha's hand, but before she had time to- 
 utter a single word, the door was opened. 
 
 Natasha inquired, " Who has come ?" 
 
 The old lady started. Gavrilo Aphanasitch drew aside 
 the curtain, looked frigidly at the patient, and asked her 
 how she felt. The sick girl made an effort to smile ; she 
 was struck by her father's stern manner, and was op- 
 pressed with anxiety. She now fancied ,she saw some 
 person standing at the head of the bed. Raising her head 
 with an exertion, she recognized the czar's Moor. Then 
 it was that she recollected all, the frightful prospect of 
 the future presented itself vividly before her. But ex- 
 hausted nature received no visible shock. Natasha let 
 her head drop on the pillow, and closed her eyes . . . her 
 heart beat feverishly. Tatiana Aphanasievna motioned 
 to her brother that the patient wanted to sleep, and all 
 left the room noiselessly with the exception of the ser- 
 vant, who returned to her spinning-wheel. 
 
 The unhappy beauty opened her eyes, and finding that 
 she was alone, despatched the maid for her nurse. At 
 the same moment a rotund little mite of a woman rolled 
 like a ball towards the bed. Ldstotchka (it was the nurse's 
 nickname) had followed Gavrilo Aphanasitch and Ibra- 
 him upstairs as fast as her short legs could carry her, and 
 had concealed herself behind the door, faithful to the 
 innate curiosity of the fair sex. On perceiving her, 
 Natasha dismissed the maid, and the nurse took her seat 
 on a footstool. Never had so much energy of mind dwelt 
 in so small a body. She mixed herself up in everything, 
 knew everything, fidgeted about everything. She had
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREA T. 291 
 
 succeeded, by her cunning and insinuating ways, in 
 securing the love of her masters and the hatred of the 
 
 o 
 
 whole household, over which she ruled absolutely. Gavrilo 
 Aphauasitch hearkened to her reports, complaints, and 
 petty solicitations ; Tatiana Aphanasievna was continually 
 inviting her opinion, and suffered herself to be guided by 
 her advice ; and Natasha, whose attachment to her was 
 unlimited, confided to her all her thoughts, all the sensa- 
 tions of her youthful heart. 
 
 " Dost thou know, Lastotchka," said she, " my father 
 weds me to the Moor ?" 
 
 The nurse heaved a deep sigh, and her wrinkled face 
 became still more wrinkled. 
 
 " Is there no hope ?" continued Natasha ; " will my 
 father have no pity on me ?" 
 
 The nurse shook her capped head. 
 
 " Will not my grandfather or aunty intercede for me ?" 
 
 " No, miss ; the Moor has bewitched everybody during 
 thy illness. The master's head is turned; the prince 
 raves about him, and Tatiana Aphanasievna says, ' What 
 a pity it is that he is a negro, for it would be a sin ta 
 wish for a better bridegroom.' " 
 
 " My God ! my God !" groaned poor Natasha. 
 
 " Do not grieve, my pretty one," said the nurse, kissing 
 her emaciated hand. " Even if thou art fated to wed the 
 Moor, yet thou shalt be free. It is not now as in olden 
 times ; husbands do not lock up their wives. The negro, 
 I hear, is rich ; your house will be like a full cup you 
 will live merrily." 
 
 192
 
 252 XirSSIAtf ROMANCE. 
 
 " Poor Valerian !" said Natasha, but in so low a voice 
 that the nurse could only guess and not hear the words. 
 
 "That's just it, miss," she whispered, mysteriously; 
 " if thou hadst thought less of the orphan of the Strelitz, 
 thou wouldst not have raved about him in thy illness, 
 and thy father would not have been angry." 
 
 " What !" said the frightened Natasha ; " I raved about 
 Valerian ? My father heard it ? My father was angry ?" 
 
 " That's just the misfortune," replied the nurse. " If 
 thou wert to beseech him now not to give thee to the 
 Moor, he would only think that Valerian was the cause. 
 There is nothing to be done ; try to submit to thy parent's 
 will, for what is to be, must be." 
 
 Natasha made no reply. The idea that her secret was 
 known to her father acted powerfully on her imagination. 
 One hope still remained : to die before the fulfilment of 
 this hateful marriage. This reflection consoled her. She 
 resigned herself to her lot, dejected and sorrow-stricken. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THERE was in the house of Gavrilo Aphanasitch, to the 
 right of the lobby, a small one-windowed room. A com- 
 mon bed, covered with a flannel blanket, stood in it ; 
 before the bed was a little table, on which burned a 
 tallow candle, and lay an open music-book. An old dark 
 blue uniform coat and a cocked-hat, its contemporary, 
 hung on the wall; above the latter was attached, with
 
 THE MOOR OF PETER THE GREAT. 293' 
 
 three nails, a coarse engraving representing Charles XII. 
 on horseback. The sounds of a flute filled this humble 
 abode ; its lonely occupier the captive dancing-master, in 
 his dressing-gown and night-cap, was whiling away the 
 dull winter evening by playing old Swedish marches. 
 Having devoted two whole hours to this pastime, the 
 Swede took his flute to pieces, put it into its case, and 
 proceeded to undress. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BILLIKO, PB1HTKB. GU1LDFOBD, SUBBKY.
 
 I