s about Marie,
rendered his conversation very disagreeable to me. I had no other
society than this family in the fortress, and I desired no other. All
predictions to the contrary, the Bashkirs did not revolt, and peace
reigned around us.

I have already said that I busied myself somewhat with literature. One
day I happened to write a little song, of which I was proud. It is well
known that authors, under pretext of asking advice, willingly seek a
kindly audience. I copied my little song and took it to Alexis, the
only one in the fortress who could appreciate a poetical work. After
preluding a little, I drew my pages from my pocket and read my verses to
him.

"How do you like that?" said I, expecting praise as a tribute due me. To
my great annoyance, Alexis, who was generally pleased with my writings,
declared frankly that my song was worth nothing.

"What do you mean?" said I, with forced calmness. He took the paper out
of my hand and began to criticize without pity, every verse, every word,
tearing me up in the most malicious fashion. It was too much. I snatched
the paper from him, declaring that never again would I show him any of
my compositions.

"We shall see," said he, "if you can keep your word; poets need a
listener as Ivan Mironoff needs a decanter of brandy before dinner. Who
is this Marie to whom you declare your tender feelings? Might it not be
Marie Mironoff?"

"That is none of your business," said I, frowning. "I want neither your
advice nor supposition."

"Oh! oh! vain poet; discreet lover," continued Alexis, irritating me
more and more, "listen to friendly counsel: if you want to succeed do
not confine yourself to songs."

"What do you mean, sir? Explain!"

"With pleasure," he replied. "I mean that if you wish to form an
intimacy with Marie Mironoff, you have only to give her a pair of
earrings instead of your lackadaisical verses."

All my blood boiled. "Why have you this opinion of her?" I asked, with
much effort restraining my anger.

"Because," said he, "of my own experience."

"You lie, wretch," I cried, with furry, "you lie, shamelessly."

Alexis was enraged.

"That shall not pass so," he said, grasping my hand. "You shall give me
satisfaction."

"When ever you like," I replied, joyfully, for at that moment I was
ready to tear him to pieces. I ran at once to see Ivan Ignatius, whom
I found with a needle in his hand. According to orders from the
Commandant's wife, he was stringin