Early in the morning I was awakened by the drumroll. I went to the place of assembly. There Pugachev’s crowds were already lining up by the gallows, where yesterday’s victims were still hanging. The Cossacks were on horseback, the soldiers under arms. Banners were flying. Several cannon, among which I recognized ours, were set up on mobile gun-carriages. All the inhabitants were there awaiting the impostor. By the porch of the commandant’s house, a Cossack was holding a fine white Kirghiz horse by the bridle. I searched with my eyes for the body of the commandant’s wife. It had been carried slightly to one side and covered with a bast mat. Finally Pugachev came out. The people took their hats off. Pugachev stopped on the porch and greeted them all. One of the chiefs gave him a sack of copper coins, and he started casting them around by the handful. With shouts, the people rushed to pick them up, and the matter did not end without serious injury. Pugachev was surrounded by his chief confederates. Among them stood Shvabrin. Our eyes met; in mine he could read contempt, and he turned away with an expression of genuine malice and feigned mockery. Pugachev, seeing me in the crowd, nodded his head to me and called me to him.
“Listen,” he said to me. “Go to Orenburg at once and tell the governor and all the generals from me to expect me there in a week. Advise them to meet me with childlike love and obedience; otherwise they will not escape a cruel death. Good journey, Your Honor!”
Then he turned to the people and said, pointing at Shvabrin:
“Here, dear children, is your new commander: obey him in all things; he is answerable to me for you and for the fortress.”
I heard these words with horror: Shvabrin was made commander of the fortress; Marya Ivanovna remained in his power! My God, what would happen to her! Pugachev went down the steps. The horse was brought to him. He leaped nimbly into the saddle, without waiting for the Cossacks who wanted to help him up.
Just then I saw my Savelyich step out of the crowd, approach Pugachev, and hand him a sheet of paper. I could not imagine what it could be about.
“What is this?” Pugachev asked imposingly.
“Read it and you’ll kindly see,” replied Savelyich.
Pugachev took the paper and studied it for a long time with a significant air.
“What’s this queer handwriting?” he said finally. “Our princely eyes can make nothing of it. Where is my head secretary?”
A young fellow in a corporal’s uniform swiftly ran up to Pugachev.
“Read it aloud,” said the impostor, handing him the paper. I was very curious to know what my tutor had decided to write to Pugachev about. The head secretary loudly began to recite the following:
“Two dressing gowns, one calico and the other of striped silk: six roubles.”
“What does that mean?” said Pugachev, frowning.
“Order him to read further,” Savelyich replied calmly.
The head secretary went on:
“A uniform jacket of fine green broadcloth: seven roubles.
“White broadcloth britches: five roubles.
“Twelve shirts of Dutch linen with cuffs: ten roubles.
“A cellaret with a tea service: two roubles fifty…”
“What’s this blather?” Pugachev interrupted. “What have I got to do with cellarets and britches with cuffs?”
Savelyich cleared his throat and began to explain:
“This, my dear man, if you please, is a list of my master’s possessions stolen by the villains…”
“What villains?” Pugachev asked menacingly.
“Sorry, it just slipped out,” Savelyich replied. “Villains or not, your boys ransacked the place and took everything. Don’t be angry: a horse has four legs and still he stumbles. Tell him to finish reading.”
“Finish reading,” said Pugachev. The secretary went on:
“A chintz blanket, another of taffeta lined with cotton: four roubles.
“A crimson ratteen coat lined with fox fur: forty roubles.
“Also the hareskin coat given to Your Grace at the inn: fifteen roubles.”
“What’s this now?” Pugachev shouted, flashing his fiery eyes.
I confess I was afraid for my poor tutor. He was about to launch into his explanations again, but Pugachev interrupted him:
“How dare you get at me with such nonsense?” he cried, snatching the paper from the secretary’s hand and flinging it in Savelyich’s face. “Stupid old man! You’ve been robbed: too bad! You old geezer, you ought to pray to God eternally for me and my boys: you and your master could be hanging here with the disobedient ones…A hareskin coat! I’ll give you a hareskin coat! You know what, I’ll skin you alive and have coats made out of your hide!”
“As you please,” replied Savelyich, “but I’m a dependent man and must answer for my master’s property.”
Pugachev was obviously in a fit of magnanimity. He turned away and rode off without another word. Shvabrin and the Cossack chiefs followed him. The band left the fortress in orderly fashion. The people went to accompany Pugachev. I remained alone on the square with Savelyich. My tutor was holding his inventory and studying it with a look of deep regret.
