"Is Marya Ivánofna gone?" I asked, with an inward trembling.

"She hasn't had time," rejoined Iwán Ignatiitch. "The road to Orenburg
is blocked, the fort surrounded, and it's a bad look-out, Petr'
Andréjïtch."

We went to the ramparts, a little natural height, and fortified by a
palisade. We found the garrison here under arms. The cannon had been
dragged hither the preceding evening. The Commandant was walking up and
down before his little party; the approach of danger had given the old
warrior wonderful activity. Out on the steppe, and not very far from the
fort, could be seen about twenty horsemen, who appeared to be Cossacks;
but amongst them were some Bashkirs, easily distinguished by their high
caps and their quivers. The Commandant passed down the ranks of the
little army, saying to the soldiers--

"Now, children, let us do well to-day for our mother, the Empress, and
let us show all the world that we are brave men, and true to our
oaths."

The soldiers by loud shouts expressed their goodwill and assent.
Chvabrine remained near me, attentively watching the enemy. The people
whom we could see on the steppe, noticing doubtless some stir in the
fort, gathered into parties, and consulted together. The Commandant
ordered Iwán Ignatiitch to point the cannon at them, and himself applied
the match. The ball passed whistling over their heads without doing them
any harm. The horsemen at once dispersed at a gallop, and the steppe was
deserted.