The Daughter of the Commandant
CHAPTER XII.
THE ORPHAN.
The "_kibitka"_ stopped before the door of the Commandant's house. Theinhabitants had recognized the little bell of Pugatchef's team, and hadassembled in a crowd. Chvabrine came to meet the usurper; he was dressedas a Cossack, and had allowed his beard to grow.
The traitor helped Pugatchef to get out of the carriage, expressing byobsequious words his zeal and joy.
Seeing me he became uneasy, but soon recovered himself.
"You are one of us," said he; "it should have been long ago."
I turned away my head without answering him. My heart failed me when weentered the little room I knew so well, where could still be seen on thewall the commission of the late deceased Commandant, as a sad memorial.
Pugatchef sat down on the same sofa where ofttimes Ivan Kouzmitch haddozed to the sound of his wife's scolding.
Chvabrine himself brought brandy to his chief. Pugatchef drank a glassof it, and said to him, pointing to me--
"Offer one to his lordship."
Chvabrine approached me with his tray. I turned away my head for thesecond time. He seemed beside himself. With his usual sharpness he haddoubtless guessed that Pugatchef was not pleased with me. He regardedhim with alarm and me with mistrust. Pugatchef asked him some questionson the condition of the fort, on what was said concerning the Tzarina'stroops, and other similar subjects. Then suddenly and in an unexpectedmanner--
"Tell me, brother," asked he, "who is this young girl you are keepingunder watch and ward? Show me her."
Chvabrine became pale as death.
"Tzar," he said, in a trembling voice, "Tzar, she is not underrestraint; she is in bed in her room."
"Take me to her," said the usurper, rising.
It was impossible to hesitate. Chvabrine led Pugatchef to MaryaIvanofna's room. I followed them. Chvabrine stopped on the stairs.
"Tzar," said he, "you can constrain me to do as you list, but do notpermit a stranger to enter my wife's room."
"You are married!" cried I, ready to tear him in pieces.
"Hush!" interrupted Pugatchef, "it is my concern. And you," continuedhe, turning towards Chvabrine, "do not swagger; whether she be your wifeor no, I take whomsoever I please to see her. Your lordship, follow me."
At the door of the room Chvabrine again stopped, and said, in a brokenvoice--
"Tzar, I warn you she is feverish, and for three days she has beendelirious."
"Open!" said Pugatchef.
Chvabrine began to fumble in his pockets, and ended by declaring he hadforgotten the key.
Pugatchef gave a push to the door with his foot, the lock gave way, thedoor opened, and we went in. I cast a rapid glance round the room andnearly fainted. Upon the floor, in a coarse peasant's dress, sat Marya,pale and thin, with her hair unbound. Before her stood a jug of waterand a bit of bread. At the sight of me she trembled and gave a piercingcry. I cannot say what I felt. Pugatchef looked sidelong at Chvabrine,and said to him with a bitter smile--
"Your hospital is well-ordered!" Then, approaching Marya, "Tell me, mylittle dove, why your husband punishes you thus?"
"My husband!" rejoined she; "he is not my husband. Never will I be hiswife. I am resolved rather to die, and I shall die if I be notdelivered."
Pugatchef cast a furious glance upon Chvabrine.
"You dared deceive me," cried he. "Do you know, villain, what youdeserve?"
Chvabrine dropped on his knees. Then contempt overpowered in me allfeelings of hatred and revenge. I looked with disgust upon a gentlemanat the feet of a Cossack deserter. Pugatchef allowed himself to bemoved.
"I pardon you this time," he said, to Chvabrine; "but next offence Iwill remember this one." Then, addressing Marya, he said to her, gently,"Come out, pretty one; I give you your liberty. I am the Tzar."
Marya Ivanofna threw a quick look at him, and divined that the murdererof her parents was before her eyes. She covered her face with her hands,and fell unconscious.
I was rushing to help her, when my old acquaintance, Polashka, came veryboldly into the room, and took charge of her mistress.
Pugatchef withdrew, and we all three returned to the parlour.
"Well, your lordship," Pugatchef said to me, laughing, "we havedelivered the pretty girl; what do you say to it? Ought we not to sendfor the pope and get him to marry his niece? If you like I will be your_marriage godfather_, Chvabrine best man; then we will set to and drinkwith closed doors."
What I feared came to pass.
No sooner had he heard Pugatchef's proposal than Chvabrine lost hishead.
"Tzar," said he, furiously, "I am guilty, I have lied to you; butGrineff also deceives you. This young girl is not the pope's niece; sheis the daughter of Ivan Mironoff, who was executed when the fort wastaken."
Pugatchef turned his flashing eyes on me.
"What does all this mean?" cried he, with indignant surprise.
But I made answer boldly--
"Chvabrine has told you the truth."
"You had not told me that," rejoined Pugatchef, whose brow had suddenlydarkened.
"But judge yourself," replied I; "could I declare before all yourpeople that she was Mironoff's daughter? They would have torn her inpieces, nothing could have saved her."
"Well, you are right," said Pugatchef. "My drunkards would not havespared the poor girl; my gossip, the pope's wife, did right to deceivethem."
"Listen," I resumed, seeing how well disposed he was towards me, "I donot know what to call you, nor do I seek to know. But God knows I standready to give my life for what you have done for me. Only do not ask ofme anything opposed to my honour and my conscience as a Christian. Youare my benefactor; end as you have begun. Let me go with the poor orphanwhither God shall direct, and whatever befall and wherever you be wewill pray God every day that He watch over the safety of your soul."
I seemed to have touched Pugatchef's fierce heart.
"Be it even as you wish," said he. "Either entirely punish or entirelypardon; that is my motto. Take your pretty one, take her away whereveryou like, and may God grant you love and wisdom."
He turned towards Chvabrine, and bid him write me a safe conduct passfor all the gates and forts under his command. Chvabrine remained still,and as if petrified.
Pugatchef went to inspect the fort; Chvabrine followed him, and I stayedbehind under the pretext of packing up. I ran to Marya's room. The doorwas shut; I knocked.
"Who is there?" asked Polashka.
I gave my name. Marya's gentle voice was then heard through the door.
"Wait, Petr' Andrejitch," said she, "I am changing my dress. Go toAkoulina Pamphilovna's; I shall be there in a minute."
I obeyed and went to Father Garasim's house.
The pope and his wife hastened to meet me. Saveliitch had already toldthem all that had happened.
"Good-day, Petr' Andrejitch," the pope's wife said to me; "here has Godso ruled that we meet again. How are you? We have talked about you everyday. And Marya Ivanofna, what has she not suffered anent you, my pigeon?But tell me, my father, how did you get out of the difficulty withPugatchef? How was it that he did not kill you? Well, for _that_, thanksbe to the villain."
"There, hush, old woman," interrupted Father Garasim; "don't gossipabout all you know; too much talk, no salvation. Come in, Petr'Andrejitch, and welcome. It is long since we have seen each other."
The pope's wife did me honour with everything she had at hand, withoutceasing a moment to talk.
She told me how Chvabrine had obliged them to deliver up Marya Ivanofnato him; how the poor girl cried, and would not be parted from them; howshe had had continual intercourse with them through the medium ofPolashka, a resolute, sharp girl who made the _"ouriadnik"_ himselfdance (as they say) to the sound of her flageolet; how she hadcounselled Marya Ivanofna to write me a letter, etc. As for me, in a fewwords I told my story.
The pope and his wife crossed themselves when they heard that Pugatchefwas aware they had deceived h
im.
"May the power of the cross be with us!" Akoulina Pamphilovna said. "MayGod turn aside this cloud. Very well, Alexey Ivanytch, we shall see! Oh!the sly fox!"
At this moment the door opened, and Marya Ivanofna appeared, with asmile on her pale face. She had changed her peasant dress, and wasdressed as usual, simply and suitably. I seized her hand, and could notfor a while say a single word. We were both silent, our hearts were toofull.
Our hosts felt we had other things to do than to talk to them; they leftus. We remained alone. Marya told me all that had befallen her since thetaking of the fort; painted me the horrors of her position, all thetorment the infamous Chvabrine had made her suffer. We recalled to eachother the happy past, both of us shedding tears the while.
At last I could tell her my plans. It was impossible for her to stay ina fort which had submitted to Pugatchef, and where Chvabrine was incommand. Neither could I dream of taking refuge with her in Orenburg,where at this juncture all the miseries of a siege were being undergone.Marya had no longer a single relation in the world. Therefore I proposedto her that she should go to my parents' country house.
She was very much surprised at such a proposal. The displeasure myfather had shown on her account frightened her. But I soothed her. Iknew my father would deem it a duty and an honour to shelter in hishouse the daughter of a veteran who had died for his country.
"Dear Marya," I said, at last, "I look upon you as my wife. Thesestrange events have irrevocably united us. Nothing in the whole worldcan part us any more."
Marya heard me in dignified silence, without misplaced affectation. Shefelt as I did, that her destiny was irrevocably linked with mine; still,she repeated that she would only be my wife with my parents' consent. Ihad nothing to answer. We fell in each other's arms, and my projectbecame our mutual decision.
An hour afterwards the "_ouriadnik_" brought me my safe-conduct pass,with the scrawl which did duty as Pugatchef's signature, and told me theTzar awaited me in his house.
I found him ready to start.
How express what I felt in the presence of this man, awful and cruel forall, myself only excepted? And why not tell the whole truth? At thismoment I felt a strong sympathy with him. I wished earnestly to draw himfrom the band of robbers of which he was the chief, and save his headere it should be too late.
The presence of Chvabrine and of the crowd around us prevented me fromexpressing to him all the feelings which filled my heart.
We parted friends.
Pugatchef saw in the crowd Akoulina Pamphilovna, and amicably threatenedher with his finger, with a meaning wink. Then he seated himself in his_"kibitka"_ and gave the word to return to Berd. When the horsesstarted, he leaned out of his carriage and shouted to me--
"Farewell, your lordship; it may be we shall yet meet again!"
We did, indeed, see one another once again; but under whatcircumstances!
Pugatchef was gone.
I long watched the steppe over which his _"kibitka"_ was rapidlygliding.
The crowd dwindled away; Chvabrine disappeared. I went back to thepope's house, where all was being made ready for our departure. Ourlittle luggage had been put in the old vehicle of the Commandant. In amoment the horses were harnessed.
Marya went to bid a last farewell to the tomb of her parents, buriedbehind the church.
I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, andsoon came back, weeping quiet tears.
Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took ourseats, three abreast, inside the "_kibitka_," and Saveliitch againperched in front.
"Good-bye, Marya Ivanofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch,our gay goshawk!" the pope's wife cried to us. "A lucky journey to you,and may God give you abundant happiness!"
We started. At the Commandant's window I saw Chvabrine standing, with aface of dark hatred.
I did not wish to triumph meanly over a humbled enemy, and looked awayfrom him.
At last we passed the principal gate, and for ever left Fort Belogorsk.