The sentries stopped us, and to the shout, "Who goes there?" our
postillion replied aloud--
"The Tzar's gossip, travelling with his good woman."
Immediately a party of Russian hussars surrounded us with awful oaths.
"Get out, devil's gossip!" a Quartermaster with thick moustachios said
to me.
"We'll give you a bath, you and your good woman!"
I got out of the "_kibitka_," and asked to be taken before the
authorities.
Seeing I was an officer, the men ceased swearing, and the Quartermaster
took me to the Major's.
Saveliitch followed me, grumbling--
"That's fun--gossip of the Tzar!--out of the frying-pan into the fire!
Oh, Lord! how will it all end?"
The "_kibitka_" followed at a walk. In five minutes we reached a little
house, brilliantly lit up. The Quartermaster left me under the guard,
and went in to announce his capture.
He returned almost directly, and told me "his high mightiness,"[67] had
not time to see me, and that he had bid me be taken to prison, and that
my good woman be brought before him.
"What does it all mean?" I cried, furiously; "is he gone mad?"
"I cannot say, your lordship," replied the Quartermaster, "only his high
mightiness has given orders that your lordship be taken to prison, and
that her ladyship be taken before his high mightiness, your lordship.
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