arry you, and have a fine junket at your wedding." Then, turning
to Beloborodoff, "Listen, field-marshal," said he, "we are old friends,
his lordship and me; let us sit down to supper. To-morrow we will see
what is to be done with him; one's brains are clearer in the morning
than by night."

I should willingly have refused the proposed honour, but I could not get
out of it. Two young Cossack girls, children of the master of the
"_izba_," laid the table with a white cloth, brought bread, fish, soup,
and big jugs of wine and beer.

Thus for the second time I found myself at the table of Pugatchef and
his terrible companions. The orgy of which I became the involuntary
witness went on till far into the night.

At last drunkenness overcame the guests; Pugatchef fell asleep in his
place, and his companions rose, making me a sign to leave him.

I went out with them. By the order of Khlopusha the sentry took me to
the lockup, where I found Saveliitch, and I was left alone with him
under lock and key.

My retainer was so astounded by the turn affairs had taken that he did
not address a single question to me. He lay down in the dark, and for a
long while I heard him moan and lament. At last, however, he began to
snore, and as for me, I gave myself up to thoughts which did not allow
me to close my eyes for a moment all night.

On the morrow morning Pugatchef sent someone to call me.

I went to his house. Before his door stood a "_kibitka_" with three
Tartar horses. The crowd filled the street. Pugatchef, whom I met in the
ante-room, was dressed in a travelling suit, a pelisse and Kirghiz cap.
His guests of yesterday evening surrounded him, and wore a submissive
air, which contrasted strongly with what I had witnessed the previous
evening.

Pugatchef gaily bid me "good morning," and ordered me to seat myself
beside him in the "_kibitka_." We took our places.

"To Fort Belogorsk!" said Pugatchef to the robust Tartar driver, who
standing guided the team. My heart beat violently.

The horses dashed forward, the little bell tinkled, the "_kibitka_,"
bounded across the snow.

"Stop! stop!" cried a voice which I knew but too well; and I saw
Saveliitch running towards us. Pugatchef bid the man stop.

"Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch," cried my follower, "don't forsake me
in my old age among the rob--"

"Aha! old owl!" said Pugatchef, "so God again brings us together. Here,
seat yourself in front."

"Thanks, Tzar, thanks