ched the neighbouring fort,
which also belonged to Pugatchef. We changed horses there.

By the alertness with which we were served and the eager zeal of the
bearded Cossack whom Pugatchef had appointed Commandant, I saw that,
thanks to the talk of the postillion who had driven us, I was taken for
a favourite of the master.

When we again set forth it was getting dark. We were approaching a
little town where, according to the bearded Commandant, there ought to
be a strong detachment on the march to join the usurper.

The sentries stopped us, and to the shout, "Who goes there?" our
postillion replied aloud--

"The Tzar's gossip, travelling with his good woman."

Immediately a party of Russian hussars surrounded us with awful oaths.

"Get out, devil's gossip!" a Quartermaster with thick moustachios said
to me.

"We'll give you a bath, you and your good woman!"

I got out of the "_kibitka_," and asked to be taken before the
authorities.

Seeing I was an officer, the men ceased swearing, and the Quartermaster
took me to the Major's.

Saveliitch followed me, grumbling--

"That's fun--gossip of the Tzar!--out of the frying-pan into the fire!
Oh, Lord! how will it all end?"

The "_kibitka_" followed at a walk. In five minutes we reached a little
house, brilliantly lit up. The Quartermaster left me under the guard,
and went in to announce his capture.

He returned almost directly, and told me "his high mightiness,"[67] had
not time to see me, and that he had bid me be taken to prison, and that
my good woman be brought before him.

"What does it all mean?" I cried, furiously; "is he gone mad?"

"I cannot say, your lordship," replied the Quartermaster, "only his high
mightiness has given orders that your lordship be taken to prison, and
that her ladyship be taken before his high mightiness, your lordship."

I ran up the steps. The sentries had not time to stop me, and I entered
straightway the room, where six hussar officers were playing
"_faro_."[68]

The Major held the bank.

What was my surprise when, in a momentary glance at him, I recognized in
him that very Ivan Ivanovitch Zourine who had so well fleeced me in the
Simbirsk inn!

"Is it possible?" cried I. "Ivan Ivanovitch, is it you?"

"Ah, bah! Petr' Andrejitch! By what chance, and where do you drop from?
Good day, brother, won't you punt a card?"

"Thanks--rather give me a lodging."

"What, lodging do you want? Stay with me."

"I cannot. I am