All the crowd
diverged
in that direction, and our
keepers dragged us thither.
keepers dragged us thither.
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
Follow me for a sally!
"
The Commandant, Iwan Ignatiitch, and I found ourselves in a moment
beyond the parapet. But the garrison, afraid, had not stirred.
"What are you doing, my children? " shouted Ivan Kouzmitch. "If we must
die, let us die; it is our duty. "
At this moment the rebels fell upon us and forced the entrance of the
citadel. The drum ceased, the garrison threw down its arms. I had been
thrown down, but I got up and passed helter-skelter with the crowd into
the fort. I saw the Commandant wounded in the head, and hard pressed by
a little band of robbers clamouring for the keys. I was running to help
him, when several strong Cossacks seized me, and bound me with their
"_kuchaks_,"[54] shouting--
"Wait a bit, you will see what will become of you traitors to the Tzar! "
We were dragged along the streets. The inhabitants came out of their
houses, offering bread and salt. The bells were rung. All at once shouts
announced that the Tzar was in the square waiting to receive the oaths
of the prisoners.
All the crowd diverged in that direction, and our
keepers dragged us thither.
Pugatchef was seated in an armchair on the threshold of the Commandant's
house. He wore an elegant Cossack caftan, embroidered down the seams. A
high cap of marten sable, ornamented with gold tassels, came closely
down over his flashing eyes. His face did not seem unknown to me. The
Cossack chiefs surrounded him. Father Garasim, pale and trembling, was
standing, cross in hand, at the foot of the steps, and seemed to be
silently praying for the victims brought before him. In the square a
gallows was being hastily erected. When we came near, some Bashkirs
drove back the crowd, and we were presented to Pugatchef.
The bells ceased clanging, and the deepest silence reigned again.
"Where is the Commandant? " asked the usurper. Our "_ouriadnik_" came
forward and pointed out Ivan Kouzmitch. Pugatchef looked fiercely upon
the old man and said to him, "How was it you dared to oppose me, your
rightful Emperor? "
The Commandant, enfeebled by his wound, collected his remaining
strength, and replied, in a resolute tone--
"You are not my Emperor; you are a usurper and a robber! "
Pugatchef frowned and waved his white handkerchief.
The Commandant, Iwan Ignatiitch, and I found ourselves in a moment
beyond the parapet. But the garrison, afraid, had not stirred.
"What are you doing, my children? " shouted Ivan Kouzmitch. "If we must
die, let us die; it is our duty. "
At this moment the rebels fell upon us and forced the entrance of the
citadel. The drum ceased, the garrison threw down its arms. I had been
thrown down, but I got up and passed helter-skelter with the crowd into
the fort. I saw the Commandant wounded in the head, and hard pressed by
a little band of robbers clamouring for the keys. I was running to help
him, when several strong Cossacks seized me, and bound me with their
"_kuchaks_,"[54] shouting--
"Wait a bit, you will see what will become of you traitors to the Tzar! "
We were dragged along the streets. The inhabitants came out of their
houses, offering bread and salt. The bells were rung. All at once shouts
announced that the Tzar was in the square waiting to receive the oaths
of the prisoners.
All the crowd diverged in that direction, and our
keepers dragged us thither.
Pugatchef was seated in an armchair on the threshold of the Commandant's
house. He wore an elegant Cossack caftan, embroidered down the seams. A
high cap of marten sable, ornamented with gold tassels, came closely
down over his flashing eyes. His face did not seem unknown to me. The
Cossack chiefs surrounded him. Father Garasim, pale and trembling, was
standing, cross in hand, at the foot of the steps, and seemed to be
silently praying for the victims brought before him. In the square a
gallows was being hastily erected. When we came near, some Bashkirs
drove back the crowd, and we were presented to Pugatchef.
The bells ceased clanging, and the deepest silence reigned again.
"Where is the Commandant? " asked the usurper. Our "_ouriadnik_" came
forward and pointed out Ivan Kouzmitch. Pugatchef looked fiercely upon
the old man and said to him, "How was it you dared to oppose me, your
rightful Emperor? "
The Commandant, enfeebled by his wound, collected his remaining
strength, and replied, in a resolute tone--
"You are not my Emperor; you are a usurper and a robber! "
Pugatchef frowned and waved his white handkerchief.
