“For all the people to see,” said the pilgrim, much impressed. “Why were they hanged?”
“They mutinied.”
“Ah, just like in our own country!” said the pilgrim.
“But,” joined in the dark man, “have not you sent away your Gosudar?” (Sovereign).
“I am not from here; I am an Englishman.”
“Ah, but did the people here send away their Gosudar?”
“They did.”
“And was it done,” asked the grey-haired pilgrim, “with God favouring and assisting (Po Bozhemu) or not?”
I hesitated. The brown man thought I did not understand.