“Now, your lordship, we have released the pretty girl, what say you?  Shall we not send for Father Garasim, and have him perform the marriage ceremony for his niece?  If you like, I will be your father by proxy, Alexis your groomsman; then we’ll shut the gates and make merry!”

As I anticipated, Alexis, hearing this speech, lost his self-control.

“Czar,” said he, in a fury, “I am guilty; I have lied to you, but Grineff also deceives you.  This young girl is not Father Garasim’s niece.  She is Ivan Mironoff’s daughter.”

Pougatcheff glared at me.  “What does that mean?” said he to me.

“Alexis says truly,” I replied, firmly.

“You did not tell me that,” said the usurper, whose face darkened.

“Judge of it yourself.  Could I declare before your people that Marie was Captain Mironoff’s daughter?  They would have torn her to pieces.  No one could have saved her.”

“You are right,” said Pougatcheff, “my drunkards would not have spared the child.  Accoulina did well to deceive them.”

“Listen,” I said, seeing his good humor, “I do not know your real name, and I do not want to know it.  But before God, I am ready to pay you with my life, for what you have done for me.  Only, ask me nothing contrary to honor, and my conscience as a Christian.  You are my benefactor.  Let me go with this orphan, and we, whatever happens to you, wherever you may be, we shall pray God to save your soul.”

“Be it as you desire,” said he, “punish to the end, or pardon completely, that’s my way.  Take your promised bride wherever you choose, and may God give you love and happiness.”  He turned to Alexis, and ordered him to write me a passport for all the forts subject to his power.  Alexis was petrified with astonishment.  Pougatcheff went off to inspect the fortress; Alexis followed him; I remained.

I ran up to Marie’s room.  The door was closed.  I knocked.

“Who is there?” asked Polacca.

I gave my name.  I heard Marie say:  “In an instant, Peter, I shall join you at Accoulina’s.”

Father Garasim and Accoulina came out to welcome me.  I was honored with everything at the command of the hostess, whose voluble tongue never ceased.  It was not long before Marie entered, quite pale; she had laid aside the peasant’s dress, and was, as usual, clad in simplicity, but with neatness and taste.  I seized her hand, unable to utter a word.  We were both silent from full hearts.  Our hosts left us, and I could now speak of plans for her safety.  It was impossible that she should stay in a fortress subject to Pougatcheff, and commanded by the infamous Alexis.  Neither could she find refuge at Orenbourg, suffering all the horrors of siege.  I proposed that she should go to my father’s country-seat.  This surprised her.  But I assured her that my father would hold it a duty and an honor to receive the daughter of a veteran who had died for his country.  In conclusion, I said:  “My dear Marie; I consider thee as my wife; these strange events have bound us for ever to each other.”