Alexander Pushkin

“ Ivan Ignatitch threw open the door, exclaiming triumphantly:
“Here they are!”
Vassilissa Egorovna came towards us.
“What is the meaning of all this, my dears? A plot to commit murder in our fortress! Ivan Kouzmitch, put them under arrest immediately! Peter Andreitch! Alexei Ivanitch! Give up your swords—give them up at once! Palashka, take the swords into the pantry. Peter Andreitch, I did not expect this of you! Are you not ashamed? As regards Alexei Ivanitch, he was turned out of the Guards for killing a man; he does not believe in God. Do you wish to be like him?” ”

“ The Commandant, weakened by his wound, summoned ill his remaining strength and replied in a firm voice:
“You are not my emperor; you are a robber and a pretender, that is what you are!”
Pougatcheff frowned savagely and waved his white handkerchief. Several Cossacks seized the old captain and dragged him towards the gallows. Astride upon the cross-beam could be seen the mutilated Bashkir whom we had examined the day before. He held in his hand a rope, and a minute afterwards I saw poor Ivan Kouzmitch suspended in the air. Then Ivan Ignatitch was brought before Pougatcheff. ”

“ The carriage drove up, Father Gherassim and his wife came out. We three, Maria Ivanovna, Paláshka, and I, took our places inside the kibitka. Savelitch scrambled into the rumble. "Farewell, Maria Ivanovna, my little dove! farewell Piotr Andrevitch, our falcon bird!" the good priest's wife said. "A happy journey to you and God bless you both!" We left. I saw Shvabrine standing at a window of the commandant's house. His look was one of dark hatred. I had no desire to triumph over a humiliated foe, and turned my face away. We emerged from the fortress, and left Byĕlogorsk behind us for ever. ”

“ Why is Bailogorsk not safe? Thank God, we have lived in it for two-and-twenty years! We have seen Bashkirs and Kirghises; perhaps we shall also escape the clutches of Pougatcheff.”
“Well, mother,” replied Ivan Kouzmitch, “stay if you like, if you have such confidence in our fortress. But what shall we do with Masha? All well and good if we offer a successful resistance, or can hold out till we obtain help; but what if the villains should take the fortress?”
“Why, then——”
But at this juncture Vassilissa Egorovna began to stammer and then remained silent, evidently agitated by deep emotion. ”

“ If you wish to hang Shvabrin, then hang this young fellow on the same gallows, that they may have nothing to reproach each other with.”
The words of the accursed old man seemed to produce an effect upon Pougatcheff. Fortunately, Khlopousha began to contradict his companion.
“That will do, Naoumitch,” said he to him: “you only think of strangling and hanging. What sort of a hero are you? To look at you, one is puzzled to imagine how your body and soul contrive to hang together. You have one foot in the grave yourself, and you want to kill others. Haven’t you enough blood on your conscience?” ”

“ Well, be it so. But is not success the reward of the bold? Did not Grishka Otrepieff [2] reign in former days? Think of me what you please, but do not leave me. What does it matter to you one way or the other? Whoever is pope is father. Serve me faithfully and truly, and I will make you a field-marshal and a prince. What do you say?”
“No,” I replied with firmness. “I am by birth a nobleman; I have taken the oath of fealty to the empress: I cannot serve you. If you really wish me well, send me back to Orenburg.”
Pougatcheff reflected. ”

“ Let us send her to Orenburg, to her godmother; there are plenty of soldiers and cannon there, and the walls are of stone. And I would advise you to go there with her; for although you are an old woman, think what might happen to you if the fortress should be taken by storm.”
“Very well,” replied the Commandant’s wife; “let it be so: we will send Masha away. As for me, you need not trouble yourself about asking me to go; I will remain here. Nothing shall make me part from you in my old age to go and seek a lonely grave in a strange country. Together we have lived, together we will die.” ”

“ Speak! who is the culprit?”
“Shvabrin is the culprit,” replied I. “He holds captive the young girl whom you saw ill at the priest’s house, and wants to force her to marry him.”
“I will soon put Shvabrin in his right place,” said Pougatcheff fiercely. “He shall learn what it is to oppress my people according to his own will and pleasure. I will have him hanged.”
“Allow me to speak a word,” said Khlopousha in a hoarse; voice. “You were in too great a hurry in appointing Shvabrin to the command of the fortress, and now you are in too great a hurry to hang him. ”

“ Nijniosern was about twenty-five versts from our fortress. We might therefore expect to be attacked by Pougatcheff at any moment. The fate in store for Maria Ivanovna presented itself vividly to my imagination, and my heart sank within me.
“Listen, Ivan Kouzmitch,” said I to the Commandant; “our duty is to defend the fortress to the last gasp; there is no question about that. But we must think about the safety of the women. Send them on to Orenburg, if the road be still open, or to some safer and more distant fortress where these villains will not be able to make their way.” ”

“ Pougatcheff was struck by my sincerity.
"Be it so," he said, slapping me on the shoulder; "one must either execute or fully pardon. Go—the four quarters are open to thee, and do as seemeth thee best. Come and bid me good-bye to-morrow, and now get thee to bed, for sleep also oppresses me."
I left Pougatcheff and emerged into the street. The night was still and frosty. The moon and stars shone brightly, illuminating the square and the gallows. All was quiet and dark within the fortress. In the public-house only were there lights, whence issued the shouts of lingering idlers. ”

“ Suddenly she caught sight of the gibbet and recognized her husband.
“Villains!” she cried, almost beside herself; “what have you done to him? My Ivan Kouzmitch! light of my life! brave soldier heart! Neither Prussian bayonets nor Turkish bullets have touched you; not in honourable fight have you yielded up your life; you received your death at the hand of a runaway galley-slave!”
“Make the old witch hold her tongue!” said Pougatcheff.
A young Cossack struck her on the head with his sabre, and she fell dead at the foot of the steps. Pougatcheff rode off; the crowd followed him. ”

“ All times are not alike; thou shalt perish heedlessly. Well, it would be different if thou foughtest against the Turk or the Swede; but just now, it is a sin even to name who the enemy is."
I interrupted him by asking how much money I had altogether.
"Enough for thee," he answered, with a satisfied air. "However well the robbers searched for it, still I managed to conceal it." With these words he pulled out of his pocket a long knitted purse full of silver.
"Well, Savelitch," I said, "give me one-half and take the rest thyself. I go to the fortress of Byĕlogorsk." ”

“ Well, my little father, Piotr Andrevitch! Canst thou believe it! the rascals have plundered us of everything—clothes, linen, crockery—nothing is left to us. But that does not matter! Thank God that they let thee off with thy life! Well, sir, and hast thou recognized the ataman?" [2]
"No, I have not. Who is he?"
"How, sir? hast thou forgotten the drunkard who coaxed the touloup out of thee at the inn? The little bran new hare-skin touloup; and he, the beast, split it by forcing himself into it!"
I was amazed. Indeed the resemblance between Pougatcheff and my guide was startling. ”

“ The shot had taken effect in the midst of the crowd. The rebels divided, and fell back a little. Their leader alone remained in the front. He was waving his sword, and appeared to be encouraging his men with energy. The shouts and shrieks which had ceased for but a moment, were renewed.
"Now then, boys," said the commandant, "open the gates, beat the drum. Advance! follow me!"
The commandant, Ivan Ignatitch, and I were in an instant without the palisade; but the terrified garrison did not stir.
"Why do you stand there, boys?" shouted Ivan Kouzmitch. "If we are to die, let us die. ”

“ There are a great number of marriageable men at Court, each of whom would be glad to take your Natasha for his wife. Is it Dolgorouky?”
“No, it is not Dolgorouky.”
“God be with him: he is too overbearing. Schein? Troekouroff?”
“No, neither the one nor the other.”
“I do not care for them either; they are flighty, and too much imbued with the German spirit. Well, is it Miloslavsky?”
“No, not he.”
“God be with him, he is rich and stupid. Who then? Eletsky? Lvoff? It cannot be Ragouzinsky? I cannot think of anybody else. For whom, then, does the Czar want Natasha?”
“For the negro Ibrahim.” ”

“ The yemstchick walked round and round, and not being able to do anything else, kept adjusting the harness. Savelitch grumbled. I kept looking in all directions, in the hope of discovering some trace of a dwelling or of a road, but could discern nothing but the confused chasing of the snow-flakes. . . . Suddenly I perceived something black.
"There, yemstchick!" I cried; "look; what is that black object there?"
The yemstchick strained his eyes.
"Goodness knows, sir," said he, taking his seat; "it is neither a waggon nor a tree, for it appears to move. It must be either a wolf or a man." ”

“ I imagined her in the hands of the robbers.... My heart sank within me.... I wept bitterly, most bitterly, and called aloud the name of my beloved.... At that moment I heard a slight noise, and from behind the ward-robe appeared Palasha, pale and trembling.
“Ah, Peter Andreitch!” said she, clasping her hands, “What a day! what horrors!”
“And Maria Ivanovna?” I asked impatiently. “What has become of Maria Ivanovna?”
“The young lady is alive,” replied Palasha; “she is hiding in the house of Akoulina Pamphilovna.”
“With the priest’s wife!” I exclaimed in alarm. “My God! Pougatcheff is there!” ”

“ Alexander Sergeivitch Pushkin, the first of the great Russian writers, was born at Moscow on Ascension Day, 1799. His father was a Russian nobleman, an officer, a courtier, and a wit, but so fiery-tempered that he threw up his commission in a rage at being reprimanded on parade for having used his cane to poke the fire. Pushkin's mother was the granddaughter of a negro slave named Abraham Hannibal, whom Peter the Great had made a favourite and at last had raised to be an admiral—a piece of history stranger than romance. ”

“ Can it be that you are threatened with some misfortune? The Lord save and defend us!”
“No misfortune, certainly, but I confess that it is a matter for reflection.”
“Then what is it, brother? What is the matter about?”
“It is about Natasha: the Czar came to ask for her hand.”
“God be thanked!” said Tatiana Afanassievna, crossing herself. “The maiden is of a marriageable age, and as the matchmaker is, so must the bridegroom be. God give them love and counsel, the honour is great. For whom does the Czar ask her hand?”
“H’m!” exclaimed Gavril Afanassievitch: “for whom? That’s just it for whom!” ”

“ They searched about in Zeneida's boudoir until they found Pushkin's poem, The Gypsy Girl. This, of course, they had not read before; for, according to the dictum of "good" society in Russia, a well-bred girl up to her fifteenth year may indeed see, but not read, romances. Moreover, that poem was not to be had in print, only manuscript. Alexander Pushkin had created quite a distinct calling which had never existed before, that of transcriber. In every town were men who made a livelihood by copying out Pushkin's verses, sold, despite the Censor, by the booksellers. ”

“ The droshky stopped in front of a three-storeyed house, close to the entrance, and the Hussar ran up the steps. A happy thought flashed through the mind of the Postmaster. He returned, and, approaching the coachman:
“Whose horse is this, my friend?” asked he: “Doesn’t it belong to Minsky?”
“Exactly so,” replied the coachman: “what do you want?”
“Well, your master ordered me to carry a letter to his Dounia, and I have forgotten where his Dounia lives.”
“She lives here, on the second floor. But you are late with your letter, my friend; he is with her himself just now.” ”

“ I left the General and hastened to my own quarters. Savelitch received me with his usual admonitions.
“What pleasure do you find, my lord, in fighting against drunken robbers? Is that the kind of occupation for a nobleman? All hours are not alike, and you will sacrifice your life for nothing. It would be all well and good if you were fighting against the Turks or the Swedes, but it is a shame to mention the name of the enemy that you are dealing with now.” ”

“ The Commandant ordered Ivan Ignatitch to point the cannon at them, and then applied the match to it with his own hand. The ball whistled over their heads, without doing any harm. The horsemen dispersed, galloping out of sight almost immediately, and the steppe was deserted.
At that moment Vassilissa Egorovna appeared upon the rampart, followed by Masha, who was unwilling to leave her.
“Well,” said the Commandant’s wife, “how goes the battle? Where is the enemy?”
“The enemy is not far off,” replied Ivan Kouzmitch. “God grant that all may go well!... Well, Masha, do you feel afraid?” ”

“ The retirement of Kirila Petrovitch gave to the company more freedom and animation. The gentlemen ventured to sit near the ladies; the girls laughed and spoke in whispers to their neighbours; the ladies spoke in loud voices across the table; the gentlemen drank, disputed, and laughed boisterously. In a word, the supper was exceedingly merry, and left behind it a very agreeable impression.
One man only did not share in the general joy. Anton Pafnoutitch sat gloomy and silent in his place, ate absently, and seemed extremely uneasy. ”