"You are not my Emperor; you are a usurper and a robber!"
Pugatchéf frowned and waved his white handkerchief. Several Cossacks immediately seized the old Commandant and dragged him away to the gallows. Astride on the crossbeam, sat the disfigured Bashkir who had been cross-examined on the preceding evening; he held a rope in his hand, and I saw the next moment poor Iván Kouzmitch swinging in the air. Then Iwán Ignatiitch was brought before Pugatchéf.
"Swear fidelity," Pugatchéf said to him, "to the Emperor, Petr' Fédorovitch!"[55]
"You are not our Emperor!" replied the lieutenant, repeating his Commandant's words; "you are a robber, my uncle, and a usurper."
Pugatchéf again gave the handkerchief signal, and good Iwán Ignatiitch swung beside his old chief. It was my turn. Boldly I looked on Pugatchéf and made ready to echo the answer of my outspoken comrades.
Then, to my inexpressible surprise, I saw among the rebels Chvabrine, who had found time to cut his hair short and to put on a Cossack caftan. He approached Pugatchéf, and whispered a few words in his ear.
"Hang him!" said Pugatchéf, without deigning to throw me a look. The rope was passed about my neck. I began saying a prayer in a low voice, offering up to God a sincere repentance for all my sins, imploring Him to save all those who were dear to my heart. I was already at the foot of the gallows.
"Fear nothing! Fear nothing!" the assassins said to me, perhaps to give me courage, when all at once a shout was heard—
"Stop, accursed ones!"
The executioners stayed their hand. I looked up. Savéliitch lay prostrate at the feet of Pugatchéf.