Never will I be his
wife. I am resolved rather to die, and I shall die if I be not
delivered."
Pugatchef cast a furious glance upon Chvabrine.
"You dared deceive me," cried he. "Do you know, villain, what you
deserve?"
Chvabrine dropped on his knees. Then contempt overpowered in me all
feelings of hatred and revenge. I looked with disgust upon a gentleman
at the feet of a Cossack deserter. Pugatchef allowed himself to be
moved.
"I pardon you this time," he said, to Chvabrine; "but next offence I
will remember this one." Then, addressing Marya, he said to her, gently,
"Come out, pretty one; I give you your liberty. I am the Tzar."
Marya Ivanofna threw a quick look at him, and divined that the murderer
of her parents was before her eyes. She covered her face with her hands,
and fell unconscious.
I was rushing to help her, when my old acquaintance, Polashka, came very
boldly into the room, and took charge of her mistress.
Pugatchef withdrew, and we all three returned to the parlour.
"Well, your lordship," Pugatchef said to me, laughing, "we have
delivered the pretty girl; what do you say to it? Ought we not to send
for the pope and get him to marry his niece? If you like I will be your
_marriage godfather_, Chvabrine best man; then we will set to and drink
with closed doors.
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