The first, as I
afterwards
learnt, was the deserter, Corporal
Beloborodoff.
Beloborodoff.
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
"How are you?
What
in heaven's name brings you here? "
I replied that I had started on a journey on my own business, and that
his people had stopped me.
"And on what business? " asked he.
I knew not what to say. Pugatchef, thinking I did not want to explain
myself before witnesses, made a sign to his comrades to go away. All
obeyed except two, who did not offer to stir.
"Speak boldly before these," said Pugatchef; "hide nothing from them. "
I threw a side glance upon these two confederates of the usurper. One of
them, a little old man, meagre and bent, with a scanty grey beard, had
nothing remarkable about him, except a broad blue ribbon worn cross-ways
over his caftan of thick grey cloth. But I shall never forget his
companion. He was tall, powerfully built, and appeared to be about
forty-five. A thick red beard, piercing grey eyes, a nose without
nostrils, and marks of the hot iron on his forehead and on his cheeks,
gave to his broad face, seamed with small-pox, a strange and indefinable
expression. He wore a red shirt, a Kirghiz dress, and wide Cossack
trousers.
The first, as I afterwards learnt, was the deserter, Corporal
Beloborodoff. The other, Athanasius Sokoloff, nicknamed Khlopusha,[63]
was a criminal condemned to the mines of Siberia, whence he had escaped
three times. In spite of the feelings which then agitated me, this
company wherein I was thus unexpectedly thrown greatly impressed me. But
Pugatchef soon recalled me to myself by his question.
"Speak! On what business did you leave Orenburg? "
A strange idea occurred to me. It seemed to me that Providence, in
bringing me a second time before Pugatchef, opened to me a way of
executing my project. I resolved to seize the opportunity, and, without
considering any longer what course I should pursue, I replied to
Pugatchef--
"I was going to Fort Belogorsk, to deliver there an orphan who is being
oppressed. "
Pugatchef's eyes flashed.
"Who among my people would dare to harm an orphan? " cried he. "Were he
ever so brazen-faced, he should never escape my vengeance! Speak, who
is the guilty one? "
"Chvabrine," replied I; "he keeps in durance the same young girl whom
you saw with the priest's wife, and he wants to force her to become his
wife. "
"I'll give him a lesson, Master Chvabrine!
in heaven's name brings you here? "
I replied that I had started on a journey on my own business, and that
his people had stopped me.
"And on what business? " asked he.
I knew not what to say. Pugatchef, thinking I did not want to explain
myself before witnesses, made a sign to his comrades to go away. All
obeyed except two, who did not offer to stir.
"Speak boldly before these," said Pugatchef; "hide nothing from them. "
I threw a side glance upon these two confederates of the usurper. One of
them, a little old man, meagre and bent, with a scanty grey beard, had
nothing remarkable about him, except a broad blue ribbon worn cross-ways
over his caftan of thick grey cloth. But I shall never forget his
companion. He was tall, powerfully built, and appeared to be about
forty-five. A thick red beard, piercing grey eyes, a nose without
nostrils, and marks of the hot iron on his forehead and on his cheeks,
gave to his broad face, seamed with small-pox, a strange and indefinable
expression. He wore a red shirt, a Kirghiz dress, and wide Cossack
trousers.
The first, as I afterwards learnt, was the deserter, Corporal
Beloborodoff. The other, Athanasius Sokoloff, nicknamed Khlopusha,[63]
was a criminal condemned to the mines of Siberia, whence he had escaped
three times. In spite of the feelings which then agitated me, this
company wherein I was thus unexpectedly thrown greatly impressed me. But
Pugatchef soon recalled me to myself by his question.
"Speak! On what business did you leave Orenburg? "
A strange idea occurred to me. It seemed to me that Providence, in
bringing me a second time before Pugatchef, opened to me a way of
executing my project. I resolved to seize the opportunity, and, without
considering any longer what course I should pursue, I replied to
Pugatchef--
"I was going to Fort Belogorsk, to deliver there an orphan who is being
oppressed. "
Pugatchef's eyes flashed.
"Who among my people would dare to harm an orphan? " cried he. "Were he
ever so brazen-faced, he should never escape my vengeance! Speak, who
is the guilty one? "
"Chvabrine," replied I; "he keeps in durance the same young girl whom
you saw with the priest's wife, and he wants to force her to become his
wife. "
"I'll give him a lesson, Master Chvabrine!
