No More Learning

"What a rascal," cried the Commandant's wife. "Just look what he dares
to propose to us! To go out to meet him and lay our colours at his feet!
Oh! the son of a dog! He doesn't then know that we have been forty
years in the service, and that, thank heaven, we have had a taste of all
sorts! Is it possible that there can have been commandants base and
cowardly enough to obey this robber? "

"Such a thing should not be possible," rejoined Ivan Kouzmitch;
"nevertheless, they say the scoundrel has already got possession of
several forts. "

"It appears that he is in strength, indeed," observed Chvabrine.

"We shall know directly the amount of his strength," resumed the
Commandant. "Vassilissa Igorofna, give me the key of the barn. Ivan
Ignatiitch, bring up the Bashkir and tell Joulai to fetch the rods. "[50]

"Wait a bit, Ivan Kouzmitch," said the Commandant's wife, rising; "let
me take Masha out of the house. Without I do so she would hear the
cries, and they would frighten her. And as for me, to tell the truth, I
am not over curious about such matters.
So hoping to see you again--"

Torture was then so rooted in the practice of justice that the
beneficial ukase[51] ordaining its abolition remained a long time of
none effect. It was thought that the confession of the accused was
indispensable to condemnation, an idea not merely unreasonable, but
contrary to the dictates of the simplest good sense in legal matters,
for, if the denial of the accused be not accepted as proof of his
innocence, the extorted confession should still less serve as proof of
his guilt. Yet even now I still hear old judges sometimes regret the
abolition of this barbarous custom.

But in those days no one ever doubted of the necessity for torture,
neither the judges nor the accused themselves. That is why the
Commandant's order did not arouse any surprise or emotion among us. Iwan
Ignatiitch went off to seek the Bashkir, who was under lock and key in
the Commandant's barn, and a few minutes later he was brought into the
ante-room. The Commandant ordered him to be brought before him.

The Bashkir crossed the sill with difficulty, owing to the wooden
shackles he had on his feet. I glanced at him and involuntarily
shuddered.

He lifted his high cap and remained near the door. I shall never forget
that man; he seemed to be at least seventy years old, and he had neither
nose nor ears. His head was shaven, and his beard consisted of a few
grey hairs. He was little of stature, thin and bent; but his Tartar eyes
still sparkled.

"Eh! eh! " said the Commandant, who recognized by these terrible marks
one of the rebels punished in 1741, "you are an old wolf, by what I see.