"No," said he, "the day of
repentance
is past and gone; they will not
give me grace.
give me grace.
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
" I said to him.
"Could you beat Frederick?
"
"Fedor Fedorovitch,[66] eh! why not? I can beat your Generals, and your
Generals have beaten him. Until now my arms have been victorious. Wait a
bit--only wait a bit--you'll see something when I shall march on
Moscow? "
"And you are thinking of marching on Moscow? "
The usurper appeared to reflect. Then he said, half-aloud--
"God knows my way is straight. I have little freedom of action. My
fellows don't obey me--they are marauders. I have to keep a sharp look
out--at the first reverse they would save their necks with my head. "
"Well," I said to Pugatchef, "would it not be better to forsake them
yourself, ere it be too late, and throw yourself on the mercy of the
Tzarina? "
Pugatchef smiled bitterly.
"No," said he, "the day of repentance is past and gone; they will not
give me grace. I must go on as I have begun. Who knows? It may be.
Grischka Otrepieff certainly became Tzar at Moscow. "
"But do you know his end? He was cast out of a window, he was massacred,
burnt, and his ashes blown abroad at the cannon's mouth, to the four
winds of heaven. "
The Tartar began to hum a plaintive song; Saveliitch, fast asleep,
oscillated from one side to the other. Our "_kibitka_" was passing
quickly over the wintry road. All at once I saw a little village I knew
well, with a palisade and a belfry, on the rugged bank of the Yaik. A
quarter of an hour afterwards we were entering Fort Belogorsk.
CHAPTER XII.
THE ORPHAN.
The "_kibitka"_ stopped before the door of the Commandant's house. The
inhabitants had recognized the little bell of Pugatchef's team, and had
assembled in a crowd. Chvabrine came to meet the usurper; he was dressed
as a Cossack, and had allowed his beard to grow.
"Fedor Fedorovitch,[66] eh! why not? I can beat your Generals, and your
Generals have beaten him. Until now my arms have been victorious. Wait a
bit--only wait a bit--you'll see something when I shall march on
Moscow? "
"And you are thinking of marching on Moscow? "
The usurper appeared to reflect. Then he said, half-aloud--
"God knows my way is straight. I have little freedom of action. My
fellows don't obey me--they are marauders. I have to keep a sharp look
out--at the first reverse they would save their necks with my head. "
"Well," I said to Pugatchef, "would it not be better to forsake them
yourself, ere it be too late, and throw yourself on the mercy of the
Tzarina? "
Pugatchef smiled bitterly.
"No," said he, "the day of repentance is past and gone; they will not
give me grace. I must go on as I have begun. Who knows? It may be.
Grischka Otrepieff certainly became Tzar at Moscow. "
"But do you know his end? He was cast out of a window, he was massacred,
burnt, and his ashes blown abroad at the cannon's mouth, to the four
winds of heaven. "
The Tartar began to hum a plaintive song; Saveliitch, fast asleep,
oscillated from one side to the other. Our "_kibitka_" was passing
quickly over the wintry road. All at once I saw a little village I knew
well, with a palisade and a belfry, on the rugged bank of the Yaik. A
quarter of an hour afterwards we were entering Fort Belogorsk.
CHAPTER XII.
THE ORPHAN.
The "_kibitka"_ stopped before the door of the Commandant's house. The
inhabitants had recognized the little bell of Pugatchef's team, and had
assembled in a crowd. Chvabrine came to meet the usurper; he was dressed
as a Cossack, and had allowed his beard to grow.
