story no one doubted the necessity of torture, neither the judges nor
the accused themselves. For this reason the Captain's order did not
astonish any of us. Ignatius went for the Bashkir, and a few minutes
later he was brought to the waiting-room. The Commandant ordered him
into the council-room where we were.

The Bashkir crossed the threshold with difficulty, for his feet were
shackled. He took off his high Cossack cap and stood near the door. I
looked at him and shuddered, involuntarily. Never shall I forget that
man; he seemed at least seventy years of age, and had neither nose nor
ears. His head was shaved; a few sparse gray hairs took the place of
beard. He was small of stature, thin and bent; but his Tartar eyes
still sparkled.

"Eh! eh!" said the Commandant, who recognized by these terrible signs
one of the rebels punished in 1741. "You are an old wolf, I see; you
have already been caught in our snares. This is not your first
offense, for your head is so well planed off."

The old Bashkir was silent, and looked at the Commandant with an air
of complete imbecility.

"Well! why are you silent?" continued the Captain; "do you not
understand Russian? Zoulac, ask him, in your tongue, who sent him
into our fortress."

The Kalmouk repeated in the Tartar language the Captain's question.
But the Bashkir looked at him with the same expression and without
answering a word.