The interrogation began:  “Your name and profession?” The General asked if I was the son of Andrew Grineff, and upon my replying in the affirmative, exclaimed:  “It is a pity so honorable a man should have a son so unworthy of him!”

I replied that I hoped to refute all charges against me, by a sincere avowal of the truth.  My assurance displeased him.

“You are a bold fellow,” said he, frowning; “but we have seen others like you.”

The young officer asked how, and for what purpose I had entered the rebel service.

I replied indignantly, that being an officer and a noble, I was incapable of enlisting in the usurper’s army, and had never served him in any way.

“How is it,” said my judge, “that the ‘officer and noble’ is the only one spared by Pougatcheff?  How is it that the ‘officer and noble’ received presents from the chief rebel, of a horse and a pelisse?  Upon what is this intimacy founded, if not on treason, or at least unpardonable cowardice?”

The words wounded me, and I undertook with warmth my own defense, finally invoking the name of my General who could testify to my zeal during the siege of Orenbourg.  The severe old man took from the table an open letter, and read: 

* * * “With regard to Ensign Griness, I have the honor to declare, that he was in the service at Orenbourg from the month of October, 1773, till the following February.  Since then, he has not presented himself.” * * *

Here the General said harshly:  “What can you say now to justify your conduct?”

My judges had listened with interest and even kindness, to the recital of my acquaintance with the usurper, from the meeting in the snowdrift to the taking of Belogorsk, where he gave me my life through gratitude.  I was going to continue my defense, by relating frankly my relations with Marie, and her rescue.  But if I spoke of her the Commission would force her to appear, and her name would become the theme of no very delicate remarks by the interrogated witnesses.  These thoughts so troubled me that I stammered, and at last was silent.

The judges were prejudiced against me by my evident confusion.  The young Guardsman asked that I should be confronted by my chief accuser.  Some minutes later the clank of iron fetters resounded, and Alexis entered.

He was pale and thin.  His hair, formerly black as a raven’s wing, was turning gray.  He repeated his accusation in a weak but decided tone.

According to him, I was Pougatcheff’s spy.  I heard him to the end in silence, and rejoiced at one thing:  he never pronounced the name of Marie Mironoff.  Was it that his self-love smarted from her contemptuous rejection of him? or was there in his heart a spark of that same feeling which made me also silent on that point?  This confirmed me in my resolution, and when asked what I had to answer to the charges of Alexis, I merely said that I held to my first declaration, and had nothing more to add.