Asamat was on fire. ‘But my father?’ said he.
‘Does he never leave home?’
‘Well, he does, sometimes.’
‘Then it is done?’
‘Done!’ whispered Asamat, as pale as death. ‘The time?’
‘The first time Kasbitch comes here. He promised to bring ten sheep to the fort. Leave the rest to me. Do you do your part, Asamat.’
And thus they arranged the whole affair between them, no very creditable affair, to say the least of it. I expressed this opinion subsequently to Petchorin; but he merely replied, that the barbarian Circassian girl was very well off to get so good a husband as himself, for according to the way of thinking of her own people, he was in every respect her husband; and that Kasbitch was a robber who deserved to be punished. Judge for yourself, what answer I could make to that? But, at that time, I knew nothing of the preconcerted bargain. Well, behold you! Kasbitch came at last, and asked, did we want sheep or honey? I desired him to bring them on the following day. ‘Asamat,’ said Petchorin, ‘to-morrow Karagos will be in my possession; if Bela is not here this night, you shall never see the horse.’
‘Good,’ said Asamat, and off he ran to the hamlet. In the evening, Petchorin armed himself and rode out of the fort. How they managed the thing I cannot tell; all I know is that the sentinel saw a girl laid crossways on Asamat’s saddle, her hands and feet bound, and her head muffled up in a thick veil.
Next day Kasbitch came with ten sheep for sale. After putting up his horse he came in to me. I entertained him with tea, because, though he was a robber, we were on terms of hospitality. We were chatting about one thing and another, when all on a sudden, I saw Kasbitch start and change colour. ‘What is the matter?’ said I.
‘My horse! my horse!’ he cried, trembling all over.