he time of our story no
one doubted the necessity of torture, neither the judges nor the accused
themselves. For this reason the Captain's order did not astonish any
of us. Ignatius went for the Bashkir, and a few minutes later he
was brought to the waiting-room. The Commandant ordered him into the
council-room where we were.

The Bashkir crossed the threshold with difficulty, for his feet were
shackled. He took off his high Cossack cap and stood near the door. I
looked at him and shuddered, involuntarily. Never shall I forget that
man; he seemed at least seventy years of age, and had neither nose nor
ears. His head was shaved; a few sparse gray hairs took the place of
beard. He was small of stature, thin and bent; but his Tartar eyes still
sparkled.

"Eh! eh!" said the Commandant, who recognized by these terrible signs
one of the rebels punished in 1741. "You are an old wolf, I see; you
have already been caught in our snares. This is not your first offense,
for your head is so well planed off."

The old Bashkir was silent, and looked at the Commandant with an air of
complete imbecility.

"Well! why are you silent?" continued the Captain; "do you not
understand Russian? Zoulac, ask him, in your tongue, who sent him into
our fortress."

The Kalmouk repeated in the Tartar language the Captain's question. But
the Bashkir looked at him with the same expression and without answering
a word.

"I will make you answer," exclaimed the Captain, with a Tartar oath.
"Come, take off his striped dressing-gown, his fool's garment, and
scourge him well."

Two pensioners commenced to remove the clothing from the shoulders of
the old man. Then, sore distress was vividly depicted on the face of
the unfortunate man. He looked on all sides, like a poor little animal
caught by children. But when one of the pensioners seized his hands to
turn them around his neck and lift up the old man on his shoulders; when
Zoulac took the rods and raised his hand to strike, then the Bashkir
uttered a low, but penetrating moan, and raising his head, opened his
mouth, where, in place of a tongue, moved a short stump!

We were still debating, when Basilia rushed breathlessly into the room
with a terrified air. "What has happened to you?" asked the Commandant,
surprised.

"Misfortune! misfortune!" replied she. "A fort was taken this morning;
Father Garasim's boy has just returned. He saw how it was captured.
The Commandant and all the officers are