leave him. We went out together. By Hlopousha's arrangements, the sentry led me into the office, where I found Savelitch, and where I was locked up with him. Savelitch was so wonder-struck at all that was happening, that he never asked a single question. He lay down in the dark, and sighed and groaned for a long time; he then began to snore, and I gave myself over to reflections, which kept me awake throughout the night.
The next morning Pougatcheff sent for me. I went to him. His kibitka, to which a troika of Tartar horses was harnessed, stood ready at the gate. The streets were crowded with people. I met Pougatcheff in the passage; he was dressed for a journey, in a pelisse and Khirghis cap. His companions of the previous day surrounded him, assuming an appearance of servility—a strong contrast to all I had witnessed overnight. Pougatcheff welcomed me cheerfully, and directed me to sit by his side in the kibitka.
We took our places. "To the fortress of Byĕlogorsk," said Pougatcheff to the broad-shouldered Tartar who, in a standing position, drove the troika. My heart beat fast. The horses started, the bells tinkled, our kibitka flew. . . .
"Stop! stop!" cried a voice I knew too well, and I saw Savelitch running towards us. Pougatcheff ordered the yemstchick to pull up. "My little father, Piotr Andrevitch," cried my servant; "do not leave me in my old age amongst these ras. . . ."
"Ah! it is thou, old owl!" said Pougatcheff. "God
