The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

It hurt me to leave Marya behind, especially as Pugatchéf had made Chvabrine commandant of the fort, but there was no help for it. Father Garassim and his wife bade me good-bye. "Except you, poor Marya has no longer any protector or comforter," said the priest's wife.

At Orenburg I was in safety, but the town was soon besieged, and I could not persuade the general to sally out and attack the rebels. All through those dreary weeks of the siege I was wondering anxiously about Marya, and then one day when we had been driving off a party of cossacks, one of the rebels, whom I recognised a former soldier at Bélogorsk, lingered to give me a letter. It was from Marya, and she told me that she was now in the house of Chvabrine, who threatened to kill her or hand her over to the robber camp if she did not marry him, and that she had but three days left before her fate would be sealed. Death would be easier, she said, than to be the wife of a man like Chvabrine.

I rushed off at once to the general, and implored him to give me a battalion of soldiers, and let me march on Bélogorsk; but the general only shook his head, and said the expedition was unreasonable.

I decided to go alone and appeal to Pugatchéf, but the faithful Savélütch insisted on accompanying me, and together we arrived at the rebel camp.

Pugatchéf received me quite cordially, and I told him the truth, that I was in love with Marya, and that Chvabrine was persecuting her. He flared up indignantly at Chvabrine's presumption, and declared he would take me at once to Bélogorsk, and attend my wedding. But on our arrival Chvabrine mentioned that Marya was the daughter of Mironoff, and immediately the countenance of the robber chief clouded over.

"Listen," I said, knowing Pugatchéf was well disposed towards me. "Do not ask of me anything against my honour or my conscience. Let me go with this unhappy orphan whither God shall direct, and whatever befall we will pray every day to God to watch over you."

It seemed as if Pugatchéf's fierce heart was touched. "Be it as you wish," he answered. "Either entirely punish or entirely pardon is my motto. Take your pretty one where you like, and may God give you love and wisdom."

A safe-conduct pass was given us, and I made up my mind to take Marya to my parents' house. I knew my father would think it a duty and an honour to shelter the daughter of a veteran who had died for his country. But Marya said she would never be my wife unless my parents approved of the marriage. We set off, and as we started I saw Chvabrine standing at the commandant's window, with a face of dark hatred.

III.--The Arrest

I parted from Marya two days later, and entrusted her to Savélütch, who promised me to escort her faithfully to my parents. My reason for this was that we had fallen in with a detachment of the army, and the officer in charge persuaded me to join him, and it seemed to me I was bound in honour to serve the tzarina.

So all that winter, and right on till the spring came, we pursued the rebels; and still Pugatchéf remained untaken; and this war with the robbers went on to the destruction of the countryside.

At last Pugatchéf was taken, and the war was at an end. A few days later I should have been in the bosom of my family, when an unforeseen thunderbolt struck me. I was ordered to be arrested and sent to Khasan, to the commission of inquiry appointed to try Pugatchéf and his accomplices.

No sooner had I arrived in Khasan than I was lodged in prison, and irons were placed on my ankles. It was a bad beginning, but I was full of hope and courage, and believed that I could easily explain my dealings with Pugatchéf.

The next day I was summoned to appear before the commission, and asked how long I had been in Pugatchéf's service.

I replied indignantly that I had never been in his service; and then when I was asked how it was he had spared my life and given me a safe-conduct pass I told the story of the guide in the snowstorm and the hair-skin touloup.

Then came the question how was it I had left Orenburg, and gone straight to the rebel camp?

I felt I could not bring in Marya's name, and expose her as a witness to the cross-examination of the commission, and so I stammered and became silent.

The officer of the guard then requested that I should be confronted with my principal accuser, and Chvabrine was brought into court. A great change had come over him. He was pale and thin, and his hair had already turned grey. In a feeble but clear voice Chvabrine went through his story against me; that I had been Pugatchéf's spy in Orenburg, and that after leaving that town I had done all I could to aid the rebels. I was glad of one thing, some spark of feeling kept him from mentioning Marya's name.

I told the judges I could only repeat my former statement that I was entirely innocent of any part in the rebellion; and then I was taken back to prison, and underwent no further examination.

Several weeks passed, and then my father was informed that the tzarina had condescended to pardon his criminal son, and remit the capital punishment, condemning him instead to exile for life in the heart of Siberia.