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Updated: May 18, 2025
Astride on the crossbeam, sat the disfigured Bashkir who had been cross-examined on the preceding evening; he held a rope in his hand, and I saw the next moment poor Iván Kouzmitch swinging in the air. Then Iwán Ignatiitch was brought before Pugatchéf. "Swear fidelity," Pugatchéf said to him, "to the Emperor, Petr' Fédorovitch!"
Here end the memoirs of Petr' Andréjïtch Grineff; but family tradition asserts that he was released from captivity at the end of the year 1774, that he was present at the execution of Pugatchéf, and that the latter, recognizing him in the crowd, made him a farewell sign with the head which, a few moments later, was held up to the people, lifeless and bleeding.
I ended by feeling certain that he and Pugatchéf were one and the same man, and I then understood why he had shown me mercy. I was filled with astonishment at the extraordinary connection of events. A boy's "touloup," given to a vagabond, saved my neck from the hangman, and a drunken frequenter of pothouses besieged forts and shook the Empire.
We remained alone together, and for a few moments neither spoke. Pugatchéf looked sharply at me, winking from time to time his left eye with an indefinable expression of slyness and mockery. At last he gave way to a long burst of laughter, and that with such unfeigned gaiety that I myself, regarding him, began to laugh without knowing why.
Pugatchéf gave me leave to depart in safety, but before Savélütch and I left the fort, the rebel bade me come and see him. He laughed aloud when I presented myself. "Who would have thought," he said, "that the man who guided you to a lodging on that night of the snowstorm was the great tzar himself? But you shall see better things; I will load you with favours when I have recovered my empire."
I shall pray God all my life for you, and I'll never talk about the hareskin 'touloup." This hareskin "touloup" might end at last by making Pugatchéf seriously angry. But the usurper either did not hear or pretended not to hear this ill-judged remark. The horses again galloped. The people stopped in the street, and each one saluted us, bowing low. Pugatchéf bent his head right and left.
The banter of Pugatchéf in some measure restored me to myself. I quietly replied that I was in his power, and that he could do with me as he listed. "Very well," said Pugatchéf; "now tell me in what state is your town?" "Thank God," replied I, "all is in good order." "In good order!" repeated Pugatchéf, "and the people are dying of hunger there."
Of these false Peters, the sixth and most dangerous was a Cossack of the Don, whose actual name was Pugatchef, but whose face seemed capable of calling up an army wherever it appeared, and who, if his ability had been equal to his fortune, might easily have seated himself on the throne. The impostor proved to be his own worst foe, and defeated himself by his innate barbarity.
"Well," I said to Pugatchéf, "would it not be better to forsake them yourself, ere it be too late, and throw yourself on the mercy of the Tzarina?" Pugatchéf smiled bitterly. "No," said he, "the day of repentance is past and gone; they will not give me grace. I must go on as I have begun. Who knows? It may be. Grischka Otrépieff certainly became Tzar at Moscow." "But do you know his end?
Has she not hooked your young affections, eh?" "She is my betrothed," I replied, as I observed the favourable change taking place in Pugatchéf, and seeing no risk in telling him the truth. "Your betrothed!" cried Pugatchéf. "Why didn't you tell me before? We will marry you, and have a fine junket at your wedding."
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