Marya saw a lady seated on a little rustic bench opposite the monument,
and she went and seated herself at the other end of the bench. The lady
looked attentively at her, and Marya, who had stolen one glance at her,
could now see her well. She wore a cap and a white morning gown and a
little light cloak. She appeared about 50 years old; her face, full and
high-coloured, expressed repose and gravity, softened by the sweetness
of her blue eyes and charming smile. She was the first to break the
silence.
"Doubtless you are not of this place?" she asked.
"You are right, lady; I only arrived yesterday from the country."
"You came with your parents?"
"No, lady, alone."
"Alone! but you are very young to travel by yourself."
"I have neither father nor mother."
"You are here on business?"
"Yes, lady, I came to present a petition to the Tzarina."
"You are an orphan; doubtless you have to complain of injustice or
wrong."
"No, lady, I came to ask grace, and not justice."
"Allow me to ask a question: Who are you?"
"I am the daughter of Captain Mironoff."
"Of Captain Mironoff? He who commanded one of the forts in the Orenburg
district?"
"Yes, lady."
The lady appeared moved.
"Forgive me," she resumed, in a yet softer voice, "if I meddle in your
affairs; but I am going to Court. Explain to me the object of your
request; perhaps I may be able to help you."
Marya rose, and respectfully saluted her. Everything in the unknown lady
involuntarily attracted her, and inspired trust. Marya took from her
pocket a folded paper; she offered it to her protectress, who ran over
it in a low voice.
When she began she looked kind and interested, but all at once her face
changed, and Marya, who followed with her eyes her every movement, was
alarmed by the hard expression of the face lately so calm and gracious.
"You plead for Grineff," said the lady, in an icy tone. "The Tzarina
cannot grant him grace. He passed over to the usurper, not as an
ignorant and credulous man, but as a depraved and dangerous
good-for-nothing."
"It's not true!" cried Marya.
"What! it's not true?" retorted the lady, flushing up to her eyes.
"It is not true, before God it is not true," exclaimed Marya. "I know
all; I will tell you all. It is for me only that he exposed himself to
all the misfortunes which have overtaken him. And if he did not
vindicate himself before the judges, it is because he did not wish me to
be mixed up in the affair."
And Marya eagerly related all the reader already knows.
The lady listened with deep attention.
"Where do you lodge?" she asked, when the young girl concluded her
story. And when she heard that it was with Anna Vlassiefna, she added,
with a smile: "Ah! I know! Good-bye! Do not tell anyone of our meeting.
I hope you will not have to wait long for an answer to your letter."