I offered no resistance. Saveliitch followed my example, and the

sentries led us away in triumph.

We crossed the ravine to enter the settlement. All the peasants' houses

were lit up. All around arose shouts and noise. I met a crowd of people

in the street, but no one paid any attention to us, or recognized in me

an officer of Orenburg. We were taken to a "izba," built in the angle

of two streets. Near the door were several barrels of wine and two

cannons.

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

you."

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He entered the "izba." I glanced at Saveliitch; the old man was making

the sign of the cross, and muttering prayers. We waited a long time. At

last 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 was

lighted by two tallow candles, and the walls were hung with gold paper.

All the rest of the furniture, the benches, the table, the little

washstand jug hung to a cord, the towel on a nail, the oven fork

standing up in a corner, the wooden shelf laden with earthen pots, all

was just as in any other "izba. Pugatchef sat beneath the holy

pictures in a red caftan and high cap, his hand on his thigh. Around

him stood several of his principal chiefs, with a forced expression of

submission and respect. It was easy to see that the news of the arrival

of an officer from Orenburg had aroused a great curiosity among the

rebels, and that they were prepared to receive me in pomp. Pugatchef

recognized me at the first glance. His feigned gravity disappeared at

once.

"Ah! it is your lordship," said he, with liveliness. "How are you? What

in heaven's name brings you here?"

I replied that I had started on a journey on my own business, and that

his people had stopped me.

"And on what business?" asked he.

I knew not what to say. Pugatchef, thinking I did not want to explain

myself before witnesses, made a sign to his comrades to go away. All

obeyed 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 of

them, a little old man, meagre and bent, with a scanty grey beard, had

nothing remarkable about him, except a broad blue ribbon worn cross-ways

over his caftan of thick grey cloth. But I shall never forget his

companion. He was tall, powerfully built, and appeared to be about

forty-five. A thick red beard, piercing grey eyes, a nose without

nostrils, 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 indefinable

expression. He wore a red shirt, a Kirghiz dress, and wide Cossack

trousers. The first, as I afterwards learnt, was the deserter, Corporal

Beloborodoff. The other, Athanasius Sokoloff, nicknamed Khlopusha,[63]

was a criminal condemned to the mines of Siberia, whence he had escaped

three times. In spite of the feelings which then agitated me, this

company wherein I was thus unexpectedly thrown greatly impressed me. But

Pugatchef soon recalled me to myself by his question.




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