VII. THE ASSAULT.


I could not sleep during the night, and did not even undress. I
intended to be at the fortress gates at day-dawn to see Marie set out,
and bid her a last adieu. I was completely changed. Excitement was
less painful than my former melancholy, for with the grief of
separation there mingled vague but secret hope, impatient expectation
of danger, and a high ambition. Night passed quickly. I was on the
point of going out, when my door opened, and the Corporal entered,
saying that our Cossacks had deserted the fortress during the night,
forcing with them Zoulac, the Christian Kalmouk, and that all around
our ramparts, unknown people were riding. The idea that Marie had not
been able to get off, froze me with terror. I gave, in haste, a few
instructions to the Corporal, and ran to the Commandant's.

Day was breaking. I was going down the street swiftly when I heard my
name called. I stopped.

"Where are you going, dare I ask?" said Ignatius, catching up with
me; "the Captain is on the rampart and sends me for you. Pougatcheff
is here."

"Is Marie gone?" I said, shuddering.

"She was not ready in time; communication with Orenbourg is cut off;