I replied that, having already had my life spared by him,
I hoped, not only for his mercy, but even for his assistance.
“And you are right; by God, you are right!” said the impostor. “You saw that my fellows looked askant at you; and this morning the old man persisted in his statement that you were a spy, and that it was necessary that you should be interrogated by means of torture and then hanged. But I would not consent to it,” he added, lowering his voice, so that Savelitch and the Tartar should not be able to hear him, “because I remembered your glass of wine and hareskin pelisse. You see now that I am not such a bloodthirsty creature as your brethren maintain.”
I recalled to mind the capture of the fortress of Bailogorsk but I did not think it advisable to contradict him, and so I made no reply.
“What do they say of me in Orenburg?” asked Pougatcheff, after a short interval of silence.
“They say that it will be no easy matter to get the upper hand of you; and there is no denying that you have made yourself felt.”
The face of the impostor betokened how much his vanity was gratified by this remark.
“Yes,” said he, with a look of self-satisfaction, “I wage war to some purpose. Do you people in Orenburg know about the battle of Youzeiff?[4] Forty general officers killed, four armies taken captive. Do you think the King of Prussia could do as well as that?”
The boasting of the brigand appeared to me to be somewhat amusing.
“What do you think about it yourself?” I said to him: “do you think that you could beat Frederick?”