in the miserable valley of Jeremina Kuriza, situated in the wildest part of the Ural Mountains, and in its yet more miserable town, Jaiczkoi, knocked at the door of the first Cossack habitation he saw and said that he was a refugee.  He was received with an open heart, and got plenty of kind words and a little bread.  The house-owner was himself poor; the Kirgizians had driven away his sheep.  One of his sons, a priest of the Roskolnik persuasion, had been carried away from him into a lead-mine; the second had been taken to serve as a soldier, and had died; the third was hung because he had been involved in a revolt.  Old Kocsenikoff remained at home without sons or family.  Pugasceff listened to the grievances of his host, and said: 

“These can be remedied.”

“Who can raise for me my dead sons?” said the old man bitterly.

“The one who rose himself in order to kill.”

“Who can that be?”

“The Czar.”

“The murdered Czar?” asked the old soldier, with astonishment.

“He has been killed six times, and yet he lives.  On my way here, whenever I met with people, they all asked me, ’Is it true that the Czar is not dead yet, and that he has escaped from prison?’ I replied to them, ’It is true.  He has found his way here, and ere long he will make his appearance before you.’”

“You say this, but how can the Czar get here?”

“He is already here.”

“Where is he?”

“I am he!”

“Very well—­very well,” replied the old Roskolnik.  “I understand what you want with me.  I shall be on the spot if you wish it.  All is the same to me as long as I have any one to lead me.  But who will believe that you are the Czar?  Hundreds and hundreds have seen him face to face.  Everybody knows that the visage of the Czar was dreadfully pockmarked, whilst yours is smooth.”

“We can remedy that.  Has not some one lately died of black-pox in this district?”

“Every day this happens.  Two days ago my last laborer died.”

“Well, I shall lay in his bed, and I shall rise from it like Czar Peter.”

He did what he said.  He lay in the infected bed.  Two days later he got the black-pox, and six weeks afterwards he rose with the same wan face as one had seen on the unfortunate Czar.

Kocsenikoff saw that a man who could play so recklessly with his life did not come here to idle away his time.  This is a country where, out of ten men, nine have stored away some revenge of their own, for a future time.  Amongst the first ten people to whom Kocsenikoff communicated his scheme, he found nine who were ready to assist in the daring undertaking, even at the cost of their lives; but the tenth was a traitor.  He disclosed the desperate plot to Colonel Simonoff, the commander of Jaiczkoi, and the commander immediately arrested Kocsenikoff; but Pugasceff escaped on the horse which had been sent out with the Cossack who came to arrest him, and he even carried off the Cossack himself!  He jumped into the saddle, patted and spurred the horse, and made his way into the forest.