I will not describe our march and the conclusion of the war. I will only say that the campaign was as calamitous as it possibly could be. Law and order came to an end everywhere, and the land-holders concealed themselves in the woods. Bands of robbers scoured the country in all directions; the commanders of isolated detachments punished and pardoned as they pleased; and the condition of the extensive territory in which the conflagration raged, was terrible.... Heaven grant that we may never see such, a senseless and merciless revolt again!
Pougatcheff took to flight, pursued by Ivan Ivanovitch Michelson. We soon heard of his complete overthrow. At last Zourin received news of the capture of the impostor, and, at the same time, orders to halt. The war was ended. At last it was possible for me to return to my parents. The thought of embracing them, and of seeing Maria Ivanovna, again, of whom I had received no information, filled me with delight. I danced about like a child. Zourin laughed and said with a shrug of his shoulders:
“No good will come of it! If you get married, you are lost!”
In the meantime a strange feeling poisoned my joy: the thought of that evil-doer, covered with the blood of so many innocent victims, and of the punishment that awaited him, troubled me involuntarily.
“Emelia, Emelia!”[1] I said to myself with vexation, “why did you not dash yourself against the bayonets, or fall beneath the bullets? That was the best thing you could have done.”[2]
And how could I feel otherwise? The thought of him was inseparably connected with the thought of the mercy which he had shown to me in one of the most terrible moments of my life, and with the deliverance of my bride from the hands of the detested Shvabrin.
Zourin granted me leave of absence. In a few days’ time I should again be in the midst of my family, and should once again set eyes upon the face of my Maria Ivanovna.... Suddenly an unexpected storm burst upon me.
On the day of my departure, and at the very moment when I was preparing to set out, Zourin came to my hut, holding in his hand a paper, and looking exceedingly troubled. A pang went through my heart. I felt alarmed, without knowing why. He sent my servant out of the room, and said that he had something to tell me.
“What is it?” I asked with uneasiness.
“Something rather disagreeable,” replied he, giving me the paper. “Read what I have just received.”