The Daughter of the Commandant

Pugatchef was gone.

I long watched the steppe over which his "kibitka" was rapidly

gliding.

The crowd dwindled away; Chvabrine disappeared. I went back to the

pope's house, where all was being made ready for our departure. Our

little luggage had been put in the old vehicle of the Commandant. In a

moment the horses were harnessed.

Marya went to bid a last farewell to the tomb of her parents, buried

behind the church.

I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, and

soon came back, weeping quiet tears.

Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took our

seats, three abreast, inside the "kibitka," and Saveliitch again

perched in front.

"Good-bye, Marya Ivanofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch,

our gay goshawk!" the pope's wife cried to us. "A lucky journey to you,

and may God give you abundant happiness!"

We started. At the Commandant's window I saw Chvabrine standing, with a

face of dark hatred.

I did not wish to triumph meanly over a humbled enemy, and looked away

from him.

At last we passed the principal gate, and for ever left Fort Belogorsk.