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Updated: August 1, 2024
Petr' Andréjïtch has been wounded in the chest, beneath the right shoulder, under one rib, to the depth of a verchok and a half, and he has been taken care of in the Commandant's house, whither we brought him from the river bank, and it was the barber here, Stépan Paramonoff, who treated him; and now Petr' Andréjïtch, thank God, is going on well, and there is nothing but good to tell of him.
My heart failed me; I burst into tears and murmured the name of my loved one. At this moment I heard a slight noise, and Polashka, very pale, came out from behind the press. "Oh, Petr' Andréjïtch," said she, wringing her hands; "what a day, what horrors!" "Marya Ivánofna," cried I, impatiently, "where is Marya Ivánofna?"
"Iwán Ignatiitch," said the Commandant's wife to the little one-eyed man, "you must decide between Prokoroff and Oustinia which is to blame, and punish both of them; and you, Maximitch, go, in heaven's name! Petr' Andréjïtch, Maximitch will take you to your lodging." I took leave.
I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, and soon came back, weeping quiet tears. Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took our seats, three abreast, inside the "kibitka," and Savéliitch again perched in front. "Good-bye, Marya Ivánofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andréjïtch, our gay goshawk!" the pope's wife cried to us.
At this moment up rose the vinous shouts of the guests and the voice of Father Garasim. The guests wanted more wine, and the pope was calling his wife. "Go home, Petr' Andréjïtch," she said to me, in great agitation, "I have something else to do than chatter to you. Some ill will befall you if you come across any of them now. Good-bye, Petr' Andréjïtch.
I did not write to you about Petr' Andréjïtch's wound in order not to frighten you without cause, and now we hear that our mistress, our mother, Avdotia Vassiliéva is ill of fright, and I shall go and pray heaven for her health.
The body of William was found in the forest by the country people, and was buried without any pomp or ceremony at Winchester. The whole is said by Order. H. Hunt. p. 378. M. Paris, p. 37. Petr. He seems to have been a violent and tyrannical prince; a perfidious, encroaching, and dangerous neighbour; an unkind and ungenerous relation.
After reading the letter she gave it me back, and said, in a voice broken by emotion "It was not my fate. Your parents do not want me in your family; God's will be done! God knows better than we do what is fit for us. There is nothing to be done, Petr' Andréjïtch; may you at least be happy." "It shall not be thus!" I exclaimed, seizing her hand. "You love me; I am ready for anything.
"Shame on you, you old dog, for never writing and telling me anything about my son, Petr' Andréjïtch, in spite of my strict orders, and that it should be from strangers that I learn his follies! Is it thus you do your duty and act up to your master's wishes? I shall send you to keep the pigs, old rascal, for having hid from me the truth, and for your weak compliance with the lad's whims.
"Good-day, Petr' Andréjïtch," the pope's wife said to me; "here has God so ruled that we meet again. How are you? We have talked about you every day. And Marya Ivánofna, what has she not suffered anent you, my pigeon? But tell me, my father, how did you get out of the difficulty with Pugatchéf? How was it that he did not kill you? Well, for that, thanks be to the villain."
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