We soon began to notice a certain stir among the Cossacks in the
garrison. They gathered in all the streets in little groups, spoke among
themselves in low voices, and dispersed directly they caught sight of a
dragoon or any other Russian soldier. They were watched. Joulai, a
baptized Kalmuck, revealed to the Commandant something very serious.
According to him the "ouriadnik" had made a false report. On his
return the perfidious Cossack had told his comrades that he had advanced
upon the rebels, and that he had been presented to their chief, and that
this chief gave him his hand to kiss and had had a long interview with
him. At once the Commandant put the "ouriadnik" in arrest, and
declared Joulai his substitute. This change was received by the Cossacks
with manifest discontent. They grumbled aloud, and Iwan Ignatiitch, who
executed the Commandant's orders, heard them with his own ears say
pretty clearly-"Only wait a bit, you garrison rat!"
The Commandant had intended to cross-examine his prisoner that same day,
but the "ouriadnik" had escaped, doubtless with the connivance of his
accomplices.
Another thing occurred to augment the Commandant's disquiet; a Bashkir
was taken bearing seditious letters. Upon this occasion the Commandant
decided upon assembling his officers anew, and in order to do that he
wished again to get rid of his wife under some plausible pretext. But as
Ivan Kouzmitch was one of the most upright and sincere of men he could
not think of any other way than that which he had already employed on a
previous occasion.
"Do you know, Vassilissa Igorofna," said he to her, while clearing his
throat once or twice, "it is said that Father Garosim has received from
the town--"
"Hold your tongue," interrupted his wife; "you want again to call a
council of war, and talk without me about Emelian Pugatchef; but you
will not deceive me this time."
Ivan Kouzmitch opened his eyes wide.
"Well, little mother," said he, "if you know all, stay; there is nothing
more to be done, we will talk before you."
"Yes, you are quite right, my little father," rejoined she; "it is of
no use your trying to play the sly fox. Send for the officers."
We again met. Ivan Kouzmitch read to us, before his wife, Pugatchef's
proclamation, drawn up by some illiterate Cossack. The robber proclaimed
his intention of marching directly upon our fort, inviting the Cossacks
and the soldiers to join him, and counselling the chiefs not to
withstand him, threatening them, should they do so, with the utmost
torture.
The proclamation was written in coarse but emphatic terms, and was
likely to produce a great impression on the minds of simple people.
"What a rascal," cried the Commandant's wife. "Just look what he dares
to propose to us! To go out to meet him and lay our colours at his feet!
Oh! the son of a dog! He doesn't then know that we have been forty
years in the service, and that, thank heaven, we have had a taste of all
sorts! Is it possible that there can have been commandants base and
cowardly enough to obey this robber?"