The Daughter of the Commandant

by Aleksandr Sergeevich Pushkin

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE REBEL CAMP.

  I left the General and made haste to return home.

  Saveliitch greeted me with his usual remonstrances--

  "What pleasure can you find, sir, in fighting with these drunkenrobbers? Is it the business of a _'boyar_?' The stars are not alwayspropitious, and you will only get killed for naught. Now if you weremaking war with Turks or Swedes! But I'm ashamed even to talk of thesefellows with whom you are fighting."

  I interrupted his speech.

  "How much money have I in all?"

  "Quite enough," replied he, with a complacent and satisfied air. "It wasall very well for the rascals to hunt everywhere, but I over-reachedthem."

  Thus saying he drew from his pocket a long knitted purse, all full ofsilver pieces.

  "Very well, Saveliitch," said I. "Give me half what you have there, andkeep the rest for yourself. I am about to start for Fort Belogorsk."

  "Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch," cried my good follower, in atremulous voice; "do you not fear God? How do you mean to travel nowthat all the roads be blocked by the robbers? At least, take pity onyour parents if you have none on yourself. Where do you wish to go?Wherefore? Wait a bit, the troops will come and take all the robbers.Then you can go to the four winds."

  My resolution was fixed.

  "It is too late to reflect," I said to the old man. "I must go; it isimpossible for me not to go. Do not make yourself wretched, Saveliitch.God is good; we shall perhaps meet again. Mind you be not ashamed tospend my money; do not be a miser. Buy all you have need of, even if youpay three times the value of things. I make you a present of the moneyif in three days' time I be not back."

  "What's that you're saying, sir?" broke in Saveliitch; "that I shallconsent to let you go alone? Why, don't dream of asking me to do so. Ifyou have resolved to go I will e'en go along with you, were it on foot;but I will not forsake you. That I should stay snugly behind a stonewall! Why, I should be mad! Do as you please, sir, but I do not leaveyou."

  I well knew it was not possible to contradict Saveliitch, and I allowedhim to make ready for our departure.

  In half-an-hour I was in the saddle on my horse, and Saveliitch on athin and lame "_garron_," which a townsman had given him for nothing,having no longer anything wherewith to feed it. We gained the towngates; the sentries let us pass, and at last we were out of Orenburg.

  Night was beginning to fall. The road I had to follow passed before thelittle village of Berd, held by Pugatchef. This road was deep in snow,and nearly hidden; but across the steppe were to be seen tracks ofhorses each day renewed.

  I was trotting. Saveliitch could hardly keep up with me, and cried to meevery minute--

  "Not so fast, sir, in heaven's name not so fast! My confounded'_garron_' cannot catch up your long-legged devil. Why are you in such ahurry? Are we bound to a feast? Rather have we our necks under the axe.Petr' Andrejitch! Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch! Oh, Lord! this'_boyar's_' child will die, and all for nothing!"

  We soon saw twinkling the fires of Berd. We were approaching the deepravines which served as natural fortifications to the little settlement.Saveliitch, though keeping up to me tolerably well, did not give overhis lamentable supplications. I was hoping to pass safely by thisunfriendly place, when all at once I made out in the dark five peasants,armed with big sticks.

  It was an advance guard of Pugatchef's camp. They shouted to us--

  "Who goes there?"

  Not knowing the pass-word, I wanted to pass them without reply, but inthe same moment they surrounded me, and one of them seized my horse bythe bridle. I drew my sword, and struck the peasant on the head. Hishigh cap saved his life; still, he staggered, and let go the bridle. Theothers were frightened, and jumped aside. Taking advantage of theirscare, I put spurs to my horse, and dashed off at full gallop.

  The fast increasing darkness of the night might have saved me from anymore difficulties, when, looking back, I discovered that Saveliitch wasno longer with me. The poor old man with his lame horse had not beenable to shake off the robbers. What was I to do?

  After waiting a few minutes and becoming certain he had been stopped, Iturned my horse's head to go to his help. As I approached the ravine Iheard from afar confused shouts, and the voice of my Saveliitch.Quickening my pace, I soon came up with the peasants of the advanceguard who had stopped me a few minutes previously. They had surroundedSaveliitch, and had obliged the poor old man to get off his horse, andwere making ready to bind him.

  The sight of me filled them with joy. They rushed upon me with shouts,and in a moment I was off my horse. One of them, who appeared to be theleader, told me they were going to take me before the Tzar.

  "And our father," added he, "will decide whether you are to be hung atonce or if we are to wait for God's sunshine!"

  I offered no resistance. Saveliitch followed my example, and thesentries led us away in triumph.

  We crossed the ravine to enter the settlement. All the peasants' houseswere lit up. All around arose shouts and noise. I met a crowd of peoplein the street, but no one paid any attention to us, or recognized in mean officer of Orenburg. We were taken to a "_izba_," built in the angleof two streets. Near the door were several barrels of wine and twocannons.

  "Here is the palace!" said one of the peasants; "we will go and announceyou."

  He entered the "_izba_." I glanced at Saveliitch; the old man was makingthe sign of the cross, and muttering prayers. We waited a long time. Atlast the peasant reappeared, and said to me--

  "Come, our father has given orders that the officer be brought in."

  I entered the "_izba_," or the palace, as the peasant called it. It waslighted by two tallow candles, and the walls were hung with gold paper.All the rest of the furniture, the benches, the table, the littlewashstand jug hung to a cord, the towel on a nail, the oven forkstanding up in a corner, the wooden shelf laden with earthen pots, allwas just as in any other "_izba_. Pugatchef sat beneath the holypictures in a red caftan and high cap, his hand on his thigh. Aroundhim stood several of his principal chiefs, with a forced expression ofsubmission and respect. It was easy to see that the news of the arrivalof an officer from Orenburg had aroused a great curiosity among therebels, and that they were prepared to receive me in pomp. Pugatchefrecognized me at the first glance. His feigned gravity disappeared atonce.

  "Ah! it is your lordship," said he, with liveliness. "How are you? Whatin heaven's name brings you here?"

  I replied that I had started on a journey on my own business, and thathis people had stopped me.

  "And on what business?" asked he.

  I knew not what to say. Pugatchef, thinking I did not want to explainmyself before witnesses, made a sign to his comrades to go away. Allobeyed except two, who did not offer to stir.

  "Speak boldly before these," said Pugatchef; "hide nothing from them."

  I threw a side glance upon these two confederates of the usurper. One ofthem, a little old man, meagre and bent, with a scanty grey beard, hadnothing remarkable about him, except a broad blue ribbon worn cross-waysover his caftan of thick grey cloth. But I shall never forget hiscompanion. He was tall, powerfully built, and appeared to be aboutforty-five. A thick red beard, piercing grey eyes, a nose withoutnostrils, and marks of the hot iron on his forehead and on his cheeks,gave to his broad face, seamed with small-pox, a strange and indefinableexpression. He wore a red shirt, a Kirghiz dress, and wide Cossacktrousers. The first, as I afterwards learnt, was the deserter, CorporalBeloborodoff. The other, Athanasius Sokoloff, nicknamed Khlopusha,[63]was a criminal condemned to the mines of Siberia, whence he had escapedthree times. In spite of the feelings which then agitated me, thiscompany wherein I was thus unexpectedly thrown greatly impressed me. ButPugatchef soon recalled me to myself by his question.

  "Speak! On what business did you leave Orenburg?"

  A strange idea occurred to me. It seemed to me that Providence, inbringing me a second time before Pugatchef, opened to me a way ofexe
cuting my project. I resolved to seize the opportunity, and, withoutconsidering any longer what course I should pursue, I replied toPugatchef--

  "I was going to Fort Belogorsk, to deliver there an orphan who is beingoppressed."

  Pugatchef's eyes flashed.

  "Who among my people would dare to harm an orphan?" cried he. "Were heever so brazen-faced, he should never escape my vengeance! Speak, whois the guilty one?"

  "Chvabrine," replied I; "he keeps in durance the same young girl whomyou saw with the priest's wife, and he wants to force her to become hiswife."

  "I'll give him a lesson, Master Chvabrine!" cried Pugatchef, with afierce air. "He shall learn what it is to do as he pleases under me, andto oppress my people. I'll hang him."

  "Bid me speak a word," broke in Khlopusha, in a hoarse voice. "You weretoo hasty in giving Chvabrine command of the fort, and now you are toohasty in hanging him. You have already offended the Cossacks by givingthem a gentleman as leader--do not, therefore, now affront the gentlemenby executing them on the first accusation."

  "They need neither be overwhelmed with favours nor be pitied," thelittle old man with the blue ribbon now said, in his turn. "There wouldbe no harm in hanging Chvabrine, neither would there be any harm incross-examining this officer. Why has he deigned to pay us a visit? Ifhe do not recognize you as Tzar, he needs not to ask justice of you; if,on the other hand, he do recognize you, wherefore, then, has he stayedin Orenburg until now, in the midst of your enemies. Will you order thathe be tried by fire?[64] It would appear that his lordship is sent to usby the Generals in Orenburg."

  The logic of the old rascal appeared plausible even to me. Aninvoluntary shudder thrilled through me as I remembered in whose hands Iwas.

  Pugatchef saw my disquiet.

  "Eh, eh! your lordship," said he, winking, "it appears to me myfield-marshal is right. What do you think of it?"

  The banter of Pugatchef in some measure restored me to myself.

  I quietly replied that I was in his power, and that he could do with meas he listed.

  "Very well," said Pugatchef; "now tell me in what state is your town?"

  "Thank God," replied I, "all is in good order."

  "In good order!" repeated Pugatchef, "and the people are dying of hungerthere."

  The usurper spoke truth; but, according to the duty imposed on me by myoath, I assured him it was a false report, and that Orenburg was amplyvictualled.

  "You see," cried the little old man, "that he is deceiving you. All thedeserters are unanimous in declaring famine and plague are in Orenburg,that they are eating carrion there as a dish of honour. And his lordshipassures us there is abundance of all. If you wish to hang Chvabrine,hang on the same gallows this lad, so that they need have naughtwherewith to reproach each other."

  The words of the confounded old man seemed to have shaken Pugatchef.

  Happily, Khlopusha began to contradict his companion.

  "Hold your tongue, Naumitch," said he; "you only think of hanging andstrangling. It certainly suits you well to play the hero. Already youhave one foot in the grave, and you want to kill others. Have you notenough blood on your conscience?"

  "But are you a saint yourself?" retorted Beloborodoff. "Wherefore, then,this pity?"

  "Without doubt," replied Khlopusha, "I am also a sinner, and this hand"(he closed his bony fist, and turning back his sleeve displayed hishairy arm), "and this hand is guilty of having shed Christian blood. But_I_ killed my enemy, and not my host, on the free highway and in thedark wood, but not in the house, and behind the stove with axe and club,neither with old women's gossip."

  The old man averted his head, and muttered between his teeth--

  "Branded!"

  "What are you muttering there, old owl?" rejoined Khlopusha. "I'll brandyou! Wait a bit, your turn will come. By heaven, I hope some day you maysmell the hot pincers, and till then have a care that I do not tear outyour ugly beard."

  "Gentlemen," said Pugatchef, with dignity, "stop quarrelling. It wouldnot be a great misfortune if all the mangy curs of Orenburg dangledtheir legs beneath the same cross-bar, but it would be a pity if ourgood dogs took to biting each other."

  Khlopusha and Beloborodoff said nothing, and exchanged black looks.

  I felt it was necessary to change the subject of the interview, whichmight end in a very disagreeable manner for me. Turning towardPugatchef, I said to him, smiling--

  "Ah! I had forgotten to thank you for your horse and '_touloup_.' Had itnot been for you, I should never have reached the town, for I shouldhave died of cold on the journey."

  My stratagem succeeded. Pugatchef became good-humoured.

  "The beauty of a debt is the payment!" said he, with his usual wink."Now, tell me the whole story. What have you to do with this young girlwhom Chvabrine is persecuting? Has she not hooked your youngaffections, eh?"

  "She is my betrothed," I replied, as I observed the favourable changetaking place in Pugatchef, and seeing no risk in telling him the truth.

  "Your betrothed!" cried Pugatchef. "Why didn't you tell me before? Wewill marry you, and have a fine junket at your wedding." Then, turningto Beloborodoff, "Listen, field-marshal," said he, "we are old friends,his lordship and me; let us sit down to supper. To-morrow we will seewhat is to be done with him; one's brains are clearer in the morningthan by night."

  I should willingly have refused the proposed honour, but I could not getout of it. Two young Cossack girls, children of the master of the"_izba_," laid the table with a white cloth, brought bread, fish, soup,and big jugs of wine and beer.

  Thus for the second time I found myself at the table of Pugatchef andhis terrible companions. The orgy of which I became the involuntarywitness went on till far into the night.

  At last drunkenness overcame the guests; Pugatchef fell asleep in hisplace, and his companions rose, making me a sign to leave him.

  I went out with them. By the order of Khlopusha the sentry took me tothe lockup, where I found Saveliitch, and I was left alone with himunder lock and key.

  My retainer was so astounded by the turn affairs had taken that he didnot address a single question to me. He lay down in the dark, and for along while I heard him moan and lament. At last, however, he began tosnore, and as for me, I gave myself up to thoughts which did not allowme to close my eyes for a moment all night.

  On the morrow morning Pugatchef sent someone to call me.

  I went to his house. Before his door stood a "_kibitka_" with threeTartar horses. The crowd filled the street. Pugatchef, whom I met in theante-room, was dressed in a travelling suit, a pelisse and Kirghiz cap.His guests of yesterday evening surrounded him, and wore a submissiveair, which contrasted strongly with what I had witnessed the previousevening.

  Pugatchef gaily bid me "good morning," and ordered me to seat myselfbeside him in the "_kibitka_." We took our places.

  "To Fort Belogorsk!" said Pugatchef to the robust Tartar driver, whostanding guided the team. My heart beat violently.

  The horses dashed forward, the little bell tinkled, the "_kibitka_,"bounded across the snow.

  "Stop! stop!" cried a voice which I knew but too well; and I sawSaveliitch running towards us. Pugatchef bid the man stop.

  "Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch," cried my follower, "don't forsake mein my old age among the rob--"

  "Aha! old owl!" said Pugatchef, "so God again brings us together. Here,seat yourself in front."

  "Thanks, Tzar, thanks my own father," replied Saveliitch, taking hisseat. "May God give you a hundred years of life for having reassured apoor old man. I shall pray God all my life for you, and I'll never talkabout the hareskin '_touloup_.'"

  This hareskin "_touloup_" might end at last by making Pugatchefseriously angry. But the usurper either did not hear or pretended not tohear this ill-judged remark. The horses again galloped.

  The people stopped in the street, and each one saluted us, bowing low.Pugatchef bent his head right and left.

  In a moment we were out of the vi
llage and were taking our course overa well-marked road. What I felt may be easily imagined. In a few hours Ishould see again her whom I had thought lost to me for ever. I imaginedto myself the moment of our reunion, but I also thought of the man inwhose hands lay my destiny, and whom a strange concourse of events boundto me by a mysterious link.

  I recalled the rough cruelty and bloody habits of him who was disposedto prove the defender of my love. Pugatchef did not know she was thedaughter of Captain Mironoff; Chvabrine, driven to bay, was capable oftelling him all, and Pugatchef might learn the truth in other ways.Then, what would become of Marya? At this thought a shudder ran throughmy body, and my hair seemed to stand on end.

  All at once Pugatchef broke upon my reflections.

  "What does your lordship," said he, "deign to think about?"

  "How can you expect me to be thinking?" replied I. "I am an officer anda gentleman; but yesterday I was waging war with you, and now I amtravelling with you in the same carriage, and the whole happiness of mylife depends on you."

  "What," said Pugatchef, "are you afraid?"

  I made reply that having already received my life at his hands, Itrusted not merely in his good nature but in his help.

  "And you are right--'fore God, you are right," resumed the usurper; "yousaw that my merry men looked askance at you. Even to-day the little oldman wanted to prove indubitably to me that you were a spy, and should beput to the torture and hung. But I would not agree," added he, loweringhis voice, lest Saveliitch and the Tartar should hear him, "because Ibore in mind your glass of wine and your '_touloup_.' You see clearlythat I am not bloodthirsty, as your comrades would make out."

  Remembering the taking of Fort Belogorsk, I did not think wise tocontradict him, and I said nothing.

  "What do they say of me in Orenburg?" asked Pugatchef, after a shortsilence.

  "Well, it is said that you are not easy to get the better of. You willagree we have had our hands full with you."

  The face of the usurper expressed the satisfaction of self-love.

  "Yes," said he, with a glorious air, "I am a great warrior. Do they knowin Orenburg of the battle of Jouzeiff?[65] Forty Generals were killed,four armies made prisoners. Do you think the King of Prussia is about mystrength?"

  This boasting of the robber rather amused me.

  "What do you think yourself?" I said to him. "Could you beat Frederick?"

  "Fedor Fedorovitch,[66] eh! why not? I can beat your Generals, and yourGenerals have beaten him. Until now my arms have been victorious. Wait abit--only wait a bit--you'll see something when I shall march onMoscow?"

  "And you are thinking of marching on Moscow?"

  The usurper appeared to reflect. Then he said, half-aloud--

  "God knows my way is straight. I have little freedom of action. Myfellows don't obey me--they are marauders. I have to keep a sharp lookout--at the first reverse they would save their necks with my head."

  "Well," I said to Pugatchef, "would it not be better to forsake themyourself, ere it be too late, and throw yourself on the mercy of theTzarina?"

  Pugatchef smiled bitterly.

  "No," said he, "the day of repentance is past and gone; they will notgive me grace. I must go on as I have begun. Who knows? It may be.Grischka Otrepieff certainly became Tzar at Moscow."

  "But do you know his end? He was cast out of a window, he was massacred,burnt, and his ashes blown abroad at the cannon's mouth, to the fourwinds of heaven."

  The Tartar began to hum a plaintive song; Saveliitch, fast asleep,oscillated from one side to the other. Our "_kibitka_" was passingquickly over the wintry road. All at once I saw a little village I knewwell, with a palisade and a belfry, on the rugged bank of the Yaik. Aquarter of an hour afterwards we were entering Fort Belogorsk.