Day was breaking. I was hurrying down the street when I heard myself
called by someone. I stopped.
"Where are you going, if I may presume to ask you?" said Iwan
Ignatiitch, catching me up. "Ivan Kouzmitch is on the ramparts, and has
sent me to seek you. The '_pugatch_'[52] has come."
"Is Marya Ivanofna gone?" I asked, with an inward trembling.
"She hasn't had time," rejoined Iwan Ignatiitch. "The road to Orenburg
is blocked, the fort surrounded, and it's a bad look-out, Petr'
Andrejitch."
We went to the ramparts, a little natural height, and fortified by a
palisade. We found the garrison here under arms. The cannon had been
dragged hither the preceding evening. The Commandant was walking up and
down before his little party; the approach of danger had given the old
warrior wonderful activity. Out on the steppe, and not very far from the
fort, could be seen about twenty horsemen, who appeared to be Cossacks;
but amongst them were some Bashkirs, easily distinguished by their high
caps and their quivers. The Commandant passed down the ranks of the
little army, saying to the soldiers--
"Now, children, let us do well to-day for our mother, the Empress, and
let us show all the world that we are brave men, and true to our
oaths.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93