The Rebel Camp

"What's that you're saying, sir?" broke in Saveliitch; "that I shall
consent to let you go alone? Why, don't dream of asking me to do so. If
you have resolved to go I will e'en go along with you, were it on foot;
but I will not forsake you. That I should stay snugly behind a stone
wall! Why, I should be mad! Do as you please, sir, but I do not leave
you."

I well knew it was not possible to contradict Saveliitch, and I allowed
him to make ready for our departure.

In half-an-hour I was in the saddle on my horse, and Saveliitch on a
thin and lame "garron," which a townsman had given him for nothing,
having no longer anything wherewith to feed it. We gained the town
gates; the sentries let us pass, and at last we were out of Orenburg.

Night was beginning to fall. The road I had to follow passed before the
little village of Berd, held by Pugatchef. This road was deep in snow,
and nearly hidden; but across the steppe were to be seen tracks of
horses each day renewed.

I was trotting. Saveliitch could hardly keep up with me, and cried to me
every minute-"Not so fast, sir, in heaven's name not so fast! My confounded
'garron' cannot catch up your long-legged devil. Why are you in such a
hurry? Are we bound to a feast? Rather have we our necks under the axe.
Petr' Andrejitch! Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch! Oh, Lord! this
'boyar's' child will die, and all for nothing!"