This sharp, bitter draught revived me, and my native pride coming to my aid, I stood erect, and boldly confronted the imperialist.
"Who the devil are you?" he asked
I replied, proudly,—
"Osman Rioni, the son of Mostapha. I might have concealed my rank, but I scorn to lie, even unto a race of liars."
Joy flashed in the cruel and cunning eyes of Carlovitch at this announcement; his surprise and satisfaction at the importance of his third prisoner were too great to leave space for anger at my speech. He smiled, and said,—
"Tcherkesse, your wants and your wounds, if you have any, shall be faithfully and kindly attended to; when in better humour I shall see you again, having a little message to you from the emperor. Take him away."
I was conducted to an ancient tomb, under the dome of which I found a Cossack guard, surrounding my two brothers Selim and Karolyi, with several other Circassians, who were all suffering more or less from wounds or scorches ha the explosion. All were dejected, and my appearance among them increased their unhappiness. We communed in whispers, and formed our plans for flight on the first opportunity.
All that night we remained in the cold and dreary tomb, which before morning some of our poor companions exchanged for an actual grave, for they died of their undressed wounds; but about sunrise, we were drawn out by the Cossacks, who truncheoned us with their lances, driving us like a herd of cattle; and then their pioneers proceeded to dig a grave under the dome, which was the resting-place of an ancient king, a proceeding which we beheld with horror, for every strict Mussulman deems sacred for ever the little spot of earth which forms the last resting-place of a departed being.
Then the sound of muffled drums rolled upon the wind and the wail of the Muscovite dead march, as the funeral of Archipp Ossepoff approached; the solemnity of the scene impressed us deeply, and we forgot that it was by the mingled treachery and stern devotion of this determined soldier we had lost Mikhailov and our liberty together.
Six grenadiers of the Tenginski Regiment bore on their shoulders the coffin, the lid of which was off; a veil of fine linen covered the body, which was dressed in uniform, with cross-belts, boots, gloves, epaulettes of red worsted and copper medals. The head was borne forward, not the feet, as in other countries. Then came four soldiers, bearing the coffin lid, on which lay the leather helmet, the musket, and knapsack of the deceased; then followed the regiment of Tenginski Grenadiers, marching with their arms reversed, and preceded by a grand military band of brass trumpets and muffled drums. In front of all marched a priest of the Russian Greek Church, attired in magnificent vestments of muslin, gold, and embroidery. His aspect was venerable; his white beard was full and flowing; he chaunted as he went, and sprinkled frankincense upon the path.