My mother brought the certificate, which she kept in a little box with
my baptismal robe, and handed it to my father. He read it, placed it
before him on the table, and commenced his letter.

I was devoured by curiosity. Where am I going, thought I, if not to
Saint Petersburg? I did not take my eyes from the pen which my father
moved slowly across the paper.

At last, the letter finished, he put it and my certificate under the
same envelope, took off his spectacles, called me and said:

"This letter is addressed to Andrew Karlovitch, my old friend and
comrade. You are going to Orenbourg to serve under orders."

All my brilliant dreams vanished. In place of the gay life of Saint
Petersburg, ennui awaited me in a wild and distant province of the
empire. Military life seemed now a calamity.

The next morning a kibitka was at the door; my trunk was placed on
it, and also a case holding tea and a tea-service, with some napkins
full of rolls and pastry, the last sweet bits of the paternal home.
Both my parents gave me their solemn benediction. My father said,
"Adieu, Peter. Serve faithfully him to whom your oath is given;
obey your chiefs; neither seek favor, nor solicit service, but do
not reject them; and remember the proverb: 'Take care of thy coat
whilst it is new, and thy honor whilst it is fresh.'"

My darling mother, all in tears, told me to take care of my health;
and counseled Saveliitch to guard her child from danger.