No More Learning

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TRIAL.


I did not doubt that the cause of my arrest was my departure from
Orenburg without leave. Thus I could easily exculpate myself, for not
only had we not been forbidden to make sorties against the enemy, but
were encouraged in so doing.

Still my friendly understanding with Pugatchef seemed to be proved by a
crowd of witnesses, and must appear at least suspicious. All the way I
pondered the questions I should be asked, and mentally resolved upon my
answers. I determined to tell the judges the whole truth, convinced
that it was at once the simplest and surest way of justifying myself.

I reached Khasan, a miserable town, which I found laid waste, and
well-nigh reduced to ashes. All along the street, instead of houses,
were to be seen heaps of charred plaster and rubbish, and walls without
windows or roofs. These were the marks Pugatchef had left. I was taken
to the fort, which had remained whole, and the hussars, my escort,
handed me over to the officer of the guard.

He called a farrier, who coolly rivetted irons on my ankles.

Then I was led to the prison building, where I was left alone in a
narrow, dark cell, which had but its four walls and a little skylight,
with iron bars.

Such a beginning augured nothing good. Still I did not lose either hope
or courage.
I had recourse to the consolation of all who suffer, and,
after tasting for the first time the sweetness of a prayer from an
innocent heart full of anguish, I peacefully fell asleep without giving
a thought to what might befall me.

On the morrow the gaoler came to wake me, telling me that I was summoned
before the Commission.

Two soldiers conducted me across a court to the Commandant's house,
then, remaining in the ante-room, left me to enter alone the inner
chamber. I entered a rather large reception room. Behind the table,
covered with papers, were seated two persons, an elderly General,
looking severe and cold, and a young officer of the Guard, looking, at
most, about thirty, of easy and attractive demeanour; near the window at
another table sat a secretary with a pen behind his ear, bending over
his paper ready to take down my evidence.

The cross-examination began. They asked me my name and rank. The
General inquired if I were not the son of Andrej Petrovitch Grineff, and
on my affirmative answer, he exclaimed, severely--

"It is a great pity such an honourable man should have a son so very
unworthy of him! "

I quietly made answer that, whatever might be the accusations lying
heavily against me, I hoped to be able to explain them away by a candid
avowal of the truth.

My coolness displeased him.

"You are a bold, barefaced rascal," he said to me, frowning. "However,
we have seen many of them. "

Then the young officer asked me by what chance and at what time I had
entered Pugatchef's service, and on what affairs he had employed me.

I indignantly rejoined that, being an officer and a gentleman, I had
not been able to enter Pugatchef's service, and that he had not employed
me on any business whatsoever.

"How, then, does it happen," resumed my judge, "that the officer and
gentleman be the only one pardoned by the usurper, while all his
comrades are massacred in cold blood? How does it happen, also, that the
same officer and gentleman could live snugly and pleasantly with the
rebels, and receive from the ringleader presents of a '_pelisse_,' a
horse, and a half rouble?