“Your Excellency, act subornatively.”

“Eh! eh!  Your opinion is judicious,” said the General; “subornative acts—­that is to say, indirect acts—­are also admitted by the science of tactics, and we will profit by your counsel.  We might offer for the rascal’s head seventy or even a hundred roubles, to be taken out of the secret funds.”

“And then,” interrupted the man in silk, “may I be a Kirghis ram, instead of a College Director, if the thieves do not bring their chief to you, chained hand and foot.”

“We can think about it,” said the General.  “But let us, in any case, take some military measures.  Gentlemen, give your votes in legal order.”

All the opinions were contrary to mine.  All agreed, that it was better to stay behind a strong stone wall, protected by cannon, than to tempt fortune in the open field.  Finally, when all the opinions were known, the General shook the ashes from his pipe and pronounced the following discourse: 

“Gentlemen, I am of the Ensign’s opinion, for it is according to the science of military tactics, which always prefers offensive movements to defensive.”  He stopped and stuffed the tobacco into his pipe.  I glanced exultingly at the civil service employes, who, with discontented looks, were whispering to each other.

“But, gentlemen,” continued he, giving out with a sigh a long puff of smoke, “I dare not assume the responsibility.  I go with the majority, which has decided that we await in this city the threatened siege, and repulse the enemy by the power of artillery, and if possible, by well-directed sorties.”

The council broke up.  I could not but deplore the weakness of the worthy soldier, who, contrary to his own convictions, decided to follow the opinion of ignorant inexperience.

Some days after this famous council of war, Pougatcheff, true to his word, approached Orenbourg.  From the top of the city walls I made a reconnaissance of the rebel army.  It seemed to me that their number had increased ten-fold.  They had more artillery, taken from the small forts captured by Pougatcheff.  Remembering our council, I foresaw a long captivity behind the walls of Orenbourg, and I was ready to cry with chagrin.  Far from me the intention of describing the siege of Orenbourg, which belongs to history and not to family memoirs.  Suffice it to say, that this siege was disastrous to the inhabitants, who had to suffer hunger and privations of every kind.  Life at Orenbourg became insupportable.  The decision of fate was awaited with anguish.  Food was scarce; bombshells fell upon the defenseless houses of citizens.  The attacks of Pougatcheff made very little excitement.  I was dying of ennui.  I had promised Accoulina that I would correspond with her, but communication was cut off, and I could not send or receive a letter from Belogorsk.  My only pastime consisted in military sorties.  Thanks to Pougatcheff I had an excellent