"
I turned away my head without answering him. My heart failed me when we
entered the little room I knew so well, where could still be seen on the
wall the commission of the late deceased Commandant, as a sad memorial.
Pugatchef sat down on the same sofa where ofttimes Ivan Kouzmitch had
dozed to the sound of his wife's scolding.
Chvabrine himself brought brandy to his chief. Pugatchef drank a glass
of it, and said to him, pointing to me--
"Offer one to his lordship."
Chvabrine approached me with his tray. I turned away my head for the
second time. He seemed beside himself. With his usual sharpness he had
doubtless guessed that Pugatchef was not pleased with me. He regarded
him with alarm and me with mistrust. Pugatchef asked him some questions
on the condition of the fort, on what was said concerning the Tzarina's
troops, and other similar subjects. Then suddenly and in an unexpected
manner--
"Tell me, brother," asked he, "who is this young girl you are keeping
under watch and ward? Show me her."
Chvabrine became pale as death.
"Tzar," he said, in a trembling voice, "Tzar, she is not under
restraint; she is in bed in her room."
"Take me to her," said the usurper, rising.
It was impossible to hesitate.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149