It pleased God to deprive me suddenly of my father and mother: I have no family or protectors on earth. I turn to you, knowing that you always wished me well and that you are ready to help any person. I pray to God that this letter somehow reaches you! Maximych has promised to deliver it. Also Palasha has heard from Maximych that he frequently sees you from a distance on sorties, and that you show no regard for yourself at all and do not think of those who pray to God for you in tears. I was sick for a long time; and when I got well, Alexei Ivanovich, who is in command here in place of my late father, forced Father Gerasim to hand me over to him for fear of Pugachev. I live in our house under guard. Alexei Ivanovich is forcing me to marry him. He says he saved my life, because he concealed Akulina Pamfilovna’s deception in telling the villains I was her niece. For me it would be easier to die than to become the wife of a man like Alexei Ivanovich. He treats me with great cruelty and threatens that if I don’t change my mind and consent, he’ll take me to the villains’ camp and it will be the same for me as it was for Lizaveta Kharlova.31 I begged Alexei Ivanovich to let me think it over. He agreed to wait three more days. If I don’t marry him in three days, there will be no mercy. Dearest Pyotr Andreevich, you are the only protector I have! Intercede for a poor girl! Persuade the general and all the commanders to send us help quickly, and come yourself, if you can. I remain obediently yours,
The poor orphan, Marya Mironova.
After reading this letter, I nearly lost my mind. I started back to town, mercilessly spurring on my poor horse. As I rode I kept thinking over one way or another to rescue the poor girl and could not come up with anything. Galloping into town, I went straight to the general’s and burst into his room.
The general was pacing up and down, smoking his meerschaum pipe. Seeing me, he stopped. My look probably struck him; he inquired solicitously about the cause of my hasty arrival.
“Your Excellency,” I said to him, “I come to you as to my own father; for God’s sake don’t deny me my request: it’s a matter of the happiness of my whole life.”
“What is it, dear boy?” asked the astonished old man. “What can I do for you? Tell me.”
“Your Excellency, order me to take a company of soldiers and some fifty Cossacks and let me clear out the Belogorsk fortress.”
The general looked at me intently, probably thinking I had lost my mind (in which he was not far wrong).
“How’s that? Clear out the Belogorsk fortress?” he said finally.
“I guarantee success,” I replied vehemently. “Just let me go.”
“No, young man,” he said, shaking his head. “At such a great distance the enemy will easily cut you off from communications with the main strategic point and obtain a complete victory over you. The suppression of communications…”
I got frightened, seeing him going off into military explanations, and hastened to interrupt him.
“Captain Mironov’s daughter,” I said to him, “has written me a letter: she asks for help; Shvabrin is forcing her to marry him.”
“Really? Oh, that Shvabrin is a great
“Take patience!” I shouted, beside myself. “And meanwhile he’ll marry Marya Ivanovna!…”
“Oh!” objected the general. “That’s not so bad: it’s better for her to be Shvabrin’s wife for a while: he can protect her now; and once we’ve shot him, then, God willing, she’ll find some little suitors for herself. Pretty widows don’t stay old maids for long—that is, I mean to say, a pretty widow will find herself a husband sooner than a maiden.”
“I’d sooner agree to die,” I said in a fury, “than yield her up to Shvabrin!”
“Oh, ho, ho, ho!” the old man said. “Now I see: you’re obviously in love with Marya Ivanovna. Oh, that’s a different matter! Poor fellow! But all the same I can’t give you a company of soldiers and fifty Cossacks. Such an expedition would be unreasonable; I cannot take responsibility for it.”
I hung my head; despair overcame me. Suddenly a thought flashed through my mind: what it was, the reader will see in the next chapter, as old-fashioned novelists say.
CHAPTER ELEVEN The Rebel Camp
The lion, though fierce by nature, was not hungry then.
“Pray tell me why this sudden visit to my den?”
He gently asked.
A. SUMAROKOV32
I left the general and hastened to my quarters. Savelyich met me with his usual admonitions.
“What makes you so eager, sir, to deal with these drunken brigands? Is it fit for a gentleman? Luck is fickle: you may perish for nothing. It would be one thing if it was against the Turks or the Swedes, but it’s sinful even to say who they are.”
I interrupted him with a question: How much money did I have all told?
