CHAPTER XIII. — THE ARREST.
Reunited in so marvellous a manner to the young girl who, that very morning even, had caused me so much unhappy disquiet, I could not believe in my happiness, and I deemed all that had befallen me a dream.
Marya looked sometimes thoughtfully upon me and sometimes upon the road, and did not seem either to have recovered her senses. We kept silence—our hearts were too weary with emotion.
At the end of two hours we had already reached the neighbouring fort, which also belonged to Pugatchéf. We changed horses there.
By the alertness with which we were served and the eager zeal of the bearded Cossack whom Pugatchéf had appointed Commandant, I saw that, thanks to the talk of the postillion who had driven us, I was taken for a favourite of the master.
When we again set forth it was getting dark. We were approaching a little town where, according to the bearded Commandant, there ought to be a strong detachment on the march to join the usurper.
The sentries stopped us, and to the shout, "Who goes there?" our postillion replied aloud—
"The Tzar's gossip, travelling with his good woman."