“You plead for Peter Grineff!” she said coldly.  “The tzarina cannot grant him mercy.  He passed over to this rebel not in ignorance, but because he is depraved.”

“It is not true!” cried Marya.  “Before God it is not true!  I know all; I will tell you everything.  It was only on my account that he exposed himself to the misfortunes which have overtaken him.  And if he did not vindicate himself before the judges, it was because he did not wish me to be mixed up in the affair.”

And Marya went on to relate all that had taken place at Belogorsk.

When she had finished, the lady asked her where she lodged, and told her she would not have to wait long for an answer to the letter.

Marya went back to the post-house full of hope, and presently, to the consternation of her hostess, a lackey in the imperial livery entered and announced that the tzarina condescended to summon to her presence the daughter of Captain Mironoff.

“Good heavens!” cried the postmaster’s wife.  “The tzarina summons you to court!  And I’m sure you don’t even know how to walk in court fashion.  Shall I send for a dressmaker I know who will lend you her yellow gown with flounces?  I think I ought to take you.”

But the lackey explained that the tzarina wanted Marya to come alone, and in the dress she should happen to be wearing.  There was nothing for it but to obey, and, with a beating heart, Marya got into the carriage and was driven to the palace.  Presently she was ushered into the boudoir of the tzarina, and recognised the lady of the garden.

The tzarina spoke graciously to her, telling Marya that it was a happiness to grant her prayer.

“I have had it all looked into, and I am convinced of the innocence of your betrothed.  Here is a letter for your father-in-law.  Do not be uneasy about the future.  I know you are not rich, but I owe a debt to the daughter of Captain Mironoff.”

Marya, all in tears, fell at the feet of the tzarina, who raised her and kissed her forehead.  The tzarina almost overwhelmed the orphan before she dismissed her.

That same day Marya hastened back to my father’s house in the country, without even having the curiosity to see the sights of Petersburg.

I was released from captivity at the end of the year 1774, and, as it happened, I was present in Moscow when Pugatchef was executed in the following year.  The famous robber chief recognised me as I stood in the crowd, and bade me farewell with a silent movement of his head.  A few moments later and the executioner held up the lifeless head for all the people to look upon.

Chvabrine I never saw again after the day I was confronted with him at my trial.

Soon after Pugatchef’s death, Marya and I were married from my father’s house.

An autograph letter from the tzarina, Catherine II., framed and glazed, is carefully preserved.  It is addressed to the father of Peter Grineff, and contains, with the acquittal of his son, many praises of the intelligence and good heart of the daughter of Captain Mironoff.