to her room. I gently approached the bed. I was struck by the frightful
change in her face. The sick girl did not know me. Motionless before
her, it was long ere I understood the words of Father Garasim and his
wife, who apparently were trying to comfort me.

Gloomy thoughts overwhelmed me. The position of a poor orphan left
solitary and friendless in the power of rascals filled me with fear,
while my own powerlessness equally distressed me; but Chvabrine,
Chvabrine above all, filled me with alarm. Invested with all power by
the usurper, and left master in the fort, with the unhappy girl, the
object of his hatred, he was capable of anything. What should I do? How
could I help her? How deliver her? Only in one way, and I embraced it.
It was to start with all speed for Orenburg, so as to hasten the
recapture of Bélogorsk, and to aid in it if possible.

I took leave of the pope and of Akoulina Pamphilovna, recommending
warmly to them her whom I already regarded as my wife. I seized the hand
of the young girl and covered it with tears and kisses.

"Good-bye," the pope's wife said to me, as she led me away. "Good-bye,
Petr' Andréjïtch; perhaps we may meet again in happier times. Don't
forget us, and write often to us. Except you, poor Marya Ivánofna has no
longer stay or comforter."

Out in the Square I stopped a minute before the gallows, which I
respectfully saluted, and I then took the road to Orenburg, accompanied
by Savéliitch, who did not forsake me.

As I thus went along, deep in thought, I heard all at once a horse
galloping behind me. I turned round, and saw a Cossack coming up from