Groups of officers and Cossacks were engaged in heated discussions;the women were shrieking,wailing and talking all in one breath.One of the old women struck my attention by her meaning looks and the frantic despair expressed upon her face.She was sitting on a thick plank,leaning her elbows on her knees and supporting her head with her hands.It was the mother of the murderer.At times her lips moved...Was it a prayer they were whispering,or a curse?
Meanwhile it was necessary to decide upon some course of action and to seize the criminal.
Nobody,however,made bold to be the first to rush forward.
I went up to the window and looked in through a chink in the shutter.The criminal,pale of face,was lying on the floor,holding a pistol in his right hand.The blood-stained sabre was beside him.His expressive eyes were rolling in terror;at times he shuddered and clutched at his head,as if indistinctly recalling the events of yesterday.
I could not read any sign of great determination in that uneasy glance of his,and I told the major that it would be better at once to give orders to the Cossacks to burst open the door and rush in,than to wait until the murderer had quite recovered his senses.
At that moment the old captain of the Cossacks went up to the door and called the murderer by name.The latter answered back.
"You have committed a sin,brother Ephi-
mych!"said the captain,"so all you can do now is to submit.""I will not submit!"answered the Cossack.
"Have you no fear of God!You see,you are not one of those cursed Chechenes,but an honest Christian!Come,if you have done it in an unguarded moment there is no help for it!
You cannot escape your fate!"
"I will not submit!"exclaimed the Cossack menacingly,and we could hear the snap of the cocked trigger.
"Hey,my good woman!"said the Cossack captain to the old woman."Say a word to your son --perhaps he will lend an ear to you...
You see,to go on like this is only to make God angry.And look,the gentlemen here have already been waiting two hours."The old woman gazed fixedly at him and shook her head.
"Vasili Petrovich,"said the captain,going up to the major;"he will not surrender.I know him!If it comes to smashing in the door he will strike down several of our men.Would it not be better if you ordered him to be shot?There is a wide chink in the shutter."At that moment a strange idea flashed through my head --like Vulich I proposed to put fate to the test.
"Wait,"I said to the major,"I will take him alive."Bidding the captain enter into a conversation with the murderer and setting three Cossacks at the door ready to force it open and rush to my aid at a given signal,I walked round the hut and approached the fatal window.My heart was beating violently.
"Aha,you cursed wretch!"cried the captain.
"Are you laughing at us,eh?Or do you think that we won't be able to get the better of you?"He began to knock at the door with all his might.Putting my eye to the chink,I followed the movements of the Cossack,who was not expecting an attack from that direction.Ipulled the shutter away suddenly and threw myself in at the window,head foremost.A shot rang out right over my ear,and the bullet tore off one of my epaulettes.But the smoke which filled the room prevented my adversary from finding the sabre which was lying beside him.I seized him by the arms;the Cossacks burst in;and three minutes had not elapsed before they had the criminal bound and led off under escort.
The people dispersed,the officers congratulated me --and indeed there was cause for congratula-tion.
After all that,it would hardly seem possible to avoid becoming a fatalist?But who knows for certain whether he is convinced of anything or not?And how often is a deception of the senses or an error of the reason accepted as a conviction!...I prefer to doubt everything.
Such a disposition is no bar to decision of character;on the contrary,so far as I am concerned,I always advance more boldly when Ido not know what is awaiting me.You see,nothing can happen worse than death --and from death there is no escape.
On my return to the fortress I related to Maksim Maksimych all that I had seen and experienced;and I sought to learn his opinion on the subject of predestination.
At first he did not understand the word.Iexplained it to him as well as I could,and then he said,with a significant shake of the head:
"Yes,sir,of course!It was a very ingenious trick!However,these Asiatic pistols often miss fire if they are badly oiled or if you don't press hard enough on the trigger.I confess Idon't like the Circassian carbines either.Some-how or other they don't suit the like of us:the butt end is so small,and any minute you may get your nose burnt!On the other hand,their sabres,now --well,all I need say is,my best respects to them!"Afterwards he said,on reflecting a little:
"Yes,it is a pity about the poor fellow!The devil must have put it into his head to start a conversation with a drunken man at night!
However,it is evident that fate had written it so at his birth!"I could not get anything more out of Maksim Maksimych;generally speaking,he had no liking for metaphysical disputations.
