hanged, all the soldiers made
prisoners, and the rebels are coming here."

This unexpected news made a deep impression on me, for I knew the
Commandant of that fortress. Two months ago, the young man, traveling
with his bride coming from Orenbourg, had paid a visit to Captain
Mironoff. The fort he commanded was only twenty-five versts from ours,
so that from hour to hour we might expect an attack from Pougatcheff.

My imagination pictured the fate of Marie, and I trembled for her.

"Listen, Captain Mironoff," said I to the Commandant, "our duty is to
defend the fortress to our last breath; that is understood, but the
safety of the women must be thought of; send them to a more distant
fortress,--to Orenbourg, if the route be still open."

Mironoff turned to his wife. "You see my dear! indeed it would be well
to send you somewhere farther off until we shall have defeated the
rebels."

"What nonsense!" replied she. "Where is the fortress that balls have
not reached? In what respect is our fortress unsafe? Thank God, we have
lived here twenty and one years. We have seen Bashkirs and Kirghis;
Pougatcheff can not be worse than they."

"My dear, stay if you will, since your faith is so great in our
fortress. But what shall we do with Marie? It will be all well if we
can keep off the robber, or if help reach us in time. If the fortress,
however, be taken--"

Basilia could only stammer a few words, and was silent, choked by her
feelings.

"No, Basilia," continued the Commandant, who remarked that his words
made a deep impression on his wife, perhaps for the first time in his
life, "it is not advisable that Marie stay here. Let us send her to
Orenbourg, to her god-mother's. That is a well-manned fortress, with
stone walls and plenty of cannon. I would advise you to go there
yourself; think what might happen to you were your fortress to be taken
by assault."

"Well! well! let us send Marie away," said the Captain's wife, "but do
not dream of asking me to go, for I will do nothing of the kind. It is
not becoming, in my old age, to separate myself from thee and seek a
solitary grave in a strange place. We have lived together; let us die
together."

"You are right," said the Commandant. "Go, and equip Marie; there is no
time to lose; tomorrow, at the dawn of day, she shall set out; she must
have a convoy, though indeed there is no one to spare. Where is she?"

"She is at Accoulina's," said his wife. "She fainted upon h