This hareskin "touloup" might end at last by making Pugatchef
seriously angry. But the usurper either did not hear or pretended not to
hear 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 village and were taking our course over
a well-marked road. What I felt may be easily imagined. In a few hours I
should see again her whom I had thought lost to me for ever. I imagined
to myself the moment of our reunion, but I also thought of the man in
whose hands lay my destiny, and whom a strange concourse of events bound
to me by a mysterious link.
I recalled the rough cruelty and bloody habits of him who was disposed
to prove the defender of my love. Pugatchef did not know she was the
daughter of Captain Mironoff; Chvabrine, driven to bay, was capable of
telling him all, and Pugatchef might learn the truth in other ways.
Then, what would become of Marya? At this thought a shudder ran through
my 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 and
a gentleman; but yesterday I was waging war with you, and now I am
travelling with you in the same carriage, and the whole happiness of my
life depends on you."
"What," said Pugatchef, "are you afraid?"
I made reply that having already received my life at his hands, I
trusted not merely in his good nature but in his help.
"And you are right--'fore God, you are right," resumed the usurper; "you
saw that my merry men looked askance at you. Even to-day the little old
man wanted to prove indubitably to me that you were a spy, and should be
put to the torture and hung. But I would not agree," added he, lowering
his voice, lest Saveliitch and the Tartar should hear him, "because I
bore in mind your glass of wine and your 'touloup.' You see clearly
that I am not bloodthirsty, as your comrades would make out."
Remembering the taking of Fort Belogorsk, I did not think wise to
contradict him, and I said nothing.
"What do they say of me in Orenburg?" asked Pugatchef, after a short
silence.
"Well, it is said that you are not easy to get the better of. You will
agree 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 know
in Orenburg of the battle of Jouzeiff?[65] Forty Generals were killed,
four armies made prisoners. Do you think the King of Prussia is about my
strength?"