The Daughter of the Commandant Read online

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE UNEXPECTED VISIT.

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

  My uncertainty about Marya Ivanofna's fate tormented me more than I cansay. Where was she? What had become of her? Had she had time to hideherself? Was her place of refuge safe and sure? Full of these oppressivethoughts, I went to the Commandant's house. All was empty. The chairs,the tables, the presses were burned, and the crockery in bits; theplace was in dreadful disorder. I quickly ran up the little stair whichled to Marya's room, where I was about to enter for the first time in mylife.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "I saluted the robber down to the ground.

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

  "'And your niece, is she young?'

  "'She is young, Tzar.'

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

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

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

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

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

  At this moment up rose the vinous shouts of the guests and the voice ofFather Garasim. The guests wanted more wine, and the pope was callinghis wife.

  "Go home, Petr' Andrejitch," she said to me, in great agitation, "I havesomething else to do than chatter to you. Some ill will befall you ifyou come across any of them now. Good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch. What mustbe, must be; and it may be God will not forsake us."

  The pope's wife went in; a little relieved, I returned to my quarters.Crossing the square I saw several Bashkirs crowding round the gallows inorder to tear off the high boots of the hanged men. With difficulty Iforbore showing my anger, which I knew would be wholly useless.

  The robbers pervaded the fort, and were plundering the officers'quarters, and the shouts of the rebels making merry were heardeverywhere. I went home. Saveliitch met me on the threshold.

  "Thank heaven!" cried he, upon seeing me, "I thought the villains hadagain laid hold on you. Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch, would youbelieve it, the robbers have taken everything from us: clothes, linen,crockery and goods; they have left nothing. But what does it matter?Thank God that they have at least left you your life! But oh! my master,did you recognize their '_ataman_?'"[57]

  "No, I did not recognize him. Who is he?"

  "What, my little father, you have already forgotten the drunkard whodid you out of your '_touloup_' the day of the snowstorm, a hareskin'_touloup_,' brand new. And he, the rascal, who split all the seamsputting it on."

  I was dumbfounded. The likeness of Pugatchef to my guide was indeedstriking. I ended by feeling certain that he and Pugatchef were one andthe same man, and I then understood why he had shown me mercy. I wasfilled with astonishment at the extraordinary connection of events. Aboy's "_touloup_," given to a vagabond, saved my neck from the hangman,and a drunken frequenter of pothouses besieged forts and shook theEmpire.

  "Will you not eat something?" asked Saveliitch, faithful to his oldhabits. "There is nothing in the house, it is true; but I shall lookabout everywhere, and I will get something ready for you."

  Left alone, I began to reflect. What could I do? To stay in the fort,which was now in the hands of the robber, or to join his band werecourses alike unworthy of an officer. Duty prompted me to go where Icould still be useful to my country in the critical circumstances inwhich it was now situated.

  But my love urged me no less strongly to stay by Marya Ivanofna, to beher protector and her champion. Although I foresaw a new and inevitablechange in the state of things, yet I could not help trembling as Ithought of the dangers of her situation.

  My reflections were broken by the arrival of a Cossack, who came runningto tell me that the great Tzar summoned me to his presence.

  "Where is he?" I asked, hastening to obey.

  "In the Commandant's house," replied the Cossack. "After dinner ourfather went to the bath; now he is resting. Ah, sir! you can see he is aperson of importance--he deigned at dinner to eat two roastsucking-pigs; and then he went into the upper part of the vapour-bath,where it was so hot that Tarass Kurotchkin himself could not stand it;he passed the broom to Bikbaieff, and only recovered by dint of coldwater. You must agree; his manners are very majestic, and in the bath,they say, he showed his marks of Tzar--on one of his breasts adouble-headed eagle as large as a petak,[58] and on the other his ownface."

  I did not think it worth while to contradict the Cossack, and I followedhim into the Commandant's house, trying to imagine beforehand myinterview with Pugatchef, and to guess how it would end.

  The reader will easily believe me when I say that I did not feel whollyreassured.

  It was getting dark when I reached the house of the Commandant.

  The gallows, with its victims, stood out black and terrible; the body ofthe Commandant's poor wife still lay beneath the porch, close by twoCossacks, who were on guard.

  He who had brought me went in to announce my arrival. He came backalmost directly, and ushered me into the room where, the previousevening, I had bidden good-bye to Marya Ivanofna.

  I saw a strange scene before me. At a table covered with a cloth andladen with bottles and glasses was seated Pugatchef, surrounded by tenCossack chiefs, in high caps and coloured shirts, heated by wine, withflushed faces and sparkling eyes. I did not see among them the newconfederates lately sworn in, the traitor Chvabrine and the"_ouriadnik_."

  "Ah, ah! so it is you, your lordship," said Pugatchef, upon seeing me."You are welcome. All honour to you, and a pl
ace at our feast."

  The guests made room. I sat down in silence at the end of the table.

  My neighbour, a tall and slender young Cossack, with a handsome face,poured me out a bumper of brandy, which I did not touch. I was busynoting the company.

  Pugatchef was seated in the place of honour, his elbows on the table,and resting his black beard on his broad fist. His features, regular andagreeable, wore no fierce expression. He often addressed a man of aboutfifty years old, calling him sometimes Count, sometimes Timofeitsh,sometimes Uncle.

  Each man considered himself as good as his fellow, and none showed anyparticular deference to their chief. They were talking of the morning'sassault, of the success of the revolt, and of their forthcomingoperations.

  Each man bragged of his prowess, proclaimed his opinions, and freelycontradicted Pugatchef. And it was decided to march upon Orenburg, abold move, which was nearly crowned with success. The departure wasfixed for the day following.

  The guests drank yet another bumper, rose from table, and took leave ofPugatchef. I wished to follow them, but Pugatchef said--

  "Stay there, I wish to speak to you!"

  We remained alone together, and for a few moments neither spoke.

  Pugatchef looked sharply at me, winking from time to time his left eyewith an indefinable expression of slyness and mockery. At last he gaveway to a long burst of laughter, and that with such unfeigned gaietythat I myself, regarding him, began to laugh without knowing why.

  "Well, your lordship," said he, "confess you were afraid when my fellowscast the rope about your neck. I warrant the sky seemed to you the sizeof a sheepskin. And you would certainly have swung beneath thecross-beam but for your old servant. I knew the old owl again directly.Well, would you ever have thought, sir, that the man who guided you to alodging in the steppe was the great Tzar himself?" As he said thesewords he assumed a grave and mysterious air. "You are very guilty asregards me," resumed he, "but I have pardoned you on account of yourcourage, and because you did me a good turn when I was obliged to hidefrom my enemies. But you shall see better things; I will load you withother favours when I shall have recovered my empire. Will you promise toserve me zealously?"

  The robber's question and his impudence appeared to be so absurd that Icould not restrain a smile.

  "Why do you laugh?" he asked, frowning. "Do you not believe me to be thegreat Tzar? Answer me frankly."

  I did not know what to do. I could not recognize a vagabond as Emperor;such conduct was to me unpardonably base. To call him an impostor to hisface was to devote myself to death; and the sacrifice for which I wasprepared on the gallows, before all the world, and in the first heat ofmy indignation, appeared to me a useless piece of bravado. I knew notwhat to say.

  Pugatchef awaited my reply in fierce silence. At last (and I yet recallthat moment with satisfaction) the feeling of duty triumphed in me overhuman weakness, and I made reply to Pugatchef--

  "Just listen, and I will tell you the whole truth. You shall be judge.Can I recognize in you a Tzar? You are a clever man; you would seedirectly that I was lying."

  "Who, then, am I, according to you?"

  "God alone knows; but whoever you be, you are playing a dangerous game."

  Pugatchef cast at me a quick, keen glance.

  "You do not then think that I am the Tzar Peter? Well, so let it be. Isthere no chance of success for the bold? In former times did notGrischka Otrepieff[59] reign? Think of me as you please, but do notleave me. What does it matter to you whether it be one or the other? Hewho is pope is father. Serve me faithfully, and I will make you afield-marshal and a prince. What do you say to this?"

  "No," I replied, firmly. "I am a gentleman. I have sworn fidelity to HerMajesty the Tzarina; I cannot serve you. If you really wish me well,send me back to Orenburg."

  Pugatchef reflected.

  "But if I send you away," said he, "will you promise me at least not tobear arms against me?"

  "How can you expect me to promise you that?" replied I. "You knowyourself that that does not depend upon me. If I be ordered to marchagainst you I must submit. You are a chief now--you wish yoursubordinates to obey you. How can I refuse to serve if I am wanted? Myhead is at your disposal; if you let me go free, I thank you; if youcause me to die, may God judge you. Howbeit, I have told you the truth."

  My outspoken candour pleased Pugatchef.

  "E'en so let it be," said he, clapping me on the shoulder; "eitherentirely punish or entirely pardon. Go to the four winds and do whatseems good in your eyes, but come to-morrow and bid me good-bye; and nowbegone to bed--I am sleepy myself."

  I left Pugatchef, and went out into the street. The night was still andcold, the moon and stars, sparkling with all their brightness, lit upthe square and the gallows. All was quiet and dark in the rest of thefort. Only in the tavern were lights still to be seen, and from withinarose the shouts of the lingering revellers.

  I threw a glance at the pope's house. The doors and the shutters wereclosed; all seemed perfectly quiet there. I went home and foundSaveliitch deploring my absence. The news of my regained libertyoverwhelmed him with joy.

  "Thanks be to Thee, O Lord!" said he, making the sign of the cross. "Wewill leave the fort to-morrow at break of day and we will go in God'scare. I have prepared something for you; eat, my father, and sleep tillmorning quietly, as though in the pocket of Christ!"

  I took his advice, and, after having supped with a good appetite, I wentto sleep on the bare boards, as weary in mind as in body.