"Your hospital is well-ordered!" Then, approaching Marya, "Tell me, my little dove, why your husband punishes you thus?"
"My husband!" rejoined she; "he is not my husband. Never will I be his wife. I am resolved rather to die, and I shall die if I be not delivered."
Pugatchéf cast a furious glance upon Chvabrine.
"You dared deceive me," cried he. "Do you know, villain, what you deserve?"
Chvabrine dropped on his knees. Then contempt overpowered in me all feelings of hatred and revenge. I looked with disgust upon a gentleman at the feet of a Cossack deserter. Pugatchéf allowed himself to be moved.
"I pardon you this time," he said, to Chvabrine; "but next offence I will remember this one." Then, addressing Marya, he said to her, gently, "Come out, pretty one; I give you your liberty. I am the Tzar."
Marya Ivánofna threw a quick look at him, and divined that the murderer of her parents was before her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, and fell unconscious.
I was rushing to help her, when my old acquaintance, Polashka, came very boldly into the room, and took charge of her mistress.
Pugatchéf withdrew, and we all three returned to the parlour.
"Well, your lordship," Pugatchéf said to me, laughing, "we have delivered the pretty girl; what do you say to it? Ought we not to send for the pope and get him to marry his niece? If you like I will be your marriage godfather, Chvabrine best man; then we will set to and drink with closed doors."