him; "thou seest that the young man is fatigued after his journey; he has other things to think about. . . . Hold thy hands out straighter. . . . And thou, my little father," continued she, turning to me; "don't fret at being banished to our wilderness. Thou art not the first, nor wilt thou be the last. One learns to love what one has to endure.[1] It is now five years since Shvabrine, Aleksey Ivanovitch[2] Shvabrine was sent here for manslaughter. Goodness knows what possessed him; he went, thou seest, into the country with a sub-lieutenant; they both took up their swords, and began to poke at each other, until Aleksey Ivanovitch run the sub-lieutenant through, and that in the presence of witnesses! What's to be done! Sin has not found its master."[1]
At that moment, the orderly, a young good-looking Cossack, came into the room.
"Maksymitch!"[3] said the captain's wife; "show this officer to his billet, and see that all is clean."
"I obey, Vassilissa Yegorovna,"[4] answered the orderly. "Would it not do to place his honour with Ivan Polejaeff?"
"Nonsense, Maksymitch," said she; "Polejaeff has no room to spare; besides, he is my koum, and does not forget that we are his superiors. Conduct the officer. . . . What is your and your father's name, sir?"
"Piotr Andrevitch."
"Take Piotr Andrevitch to Semion Koúzoff. The rascal
