“Lead me to her,” said the impostor, rising from his seat.
Refusal was impossible. Shvabrin conducted Pougatcheff to Maria Ivanovna’s room. I followed behind them.
Shvabrin stopped upon the stairs.
“Czar,” said he: “you may demand of me whatever you please; but do not permit a stranger to enter my wife’s bedroom.”
I shuddered.
“So you are married!” I said to Shvabrin, ready to tear him to pieces.
“Silence!” interrupted Pougatcheff: “that is my business. And you,” he continued, turning to Shvabrin, “keep your airs and graces to yourself: whether she be your wife or whether she be not, I will take to her whomsoever I please. Your lordship, follow me.”
At the door of the room Shvabrin stopped again, and said in a faltering voice:
“Czar, I must inform you that she is in a high fever, and has been raving incessantly for the last three days.”
“Open the door!” said Pougatcheff.