"I will make you answer," exclaimed the Captain, with a Tartar oath.
"Come, take off his striped dressing-gown, his fool's garment, and
scourge him well."

Two pensioners commenced to remove the clothing from the shoulders of
the old man. Then, sore distress was vividly depicted on the face of
the unfortunate man. He looked on all sides, like a poor little animal
caught by children. But when one of the pensioners seized his hands to
turn them around his neck and lift up the old man on his shoulders;
when Zoulac took the rods and raised his hand to strike, then the
Bashkir uttered a low, but penetrating moan, and raising his head,
opened his mouth, where, in place of a tongue, moved a short stump!

We were still debating, when Basilia rushed breathlessly into the room
with a terrified air. "What has happened to you?" asked the Commandant,
surprised.

"Misfortune! misfortune!" replied she. "A fort was taken this morning;
Father Garasim's boy has just returned. He saw how it was captured.
The Commandant and all the officers are hanged, all the soldiers made
prisoners, and the rebels are coming here."

This unexpected news made a deep impression on me, for I knew the
Commandant of that fortress. Two months ago, the young man, traveling
with his bride coming from Orenbourg, had paid a visit to Captain
Mironoff. The fort he commanded was only twenty-five versts from ours,
so that from hour to hour we might expect an attack from Pougatcheff.

My imagination pictured the fate of Marie, and I trembled for her.