I strained my eyes in every direction, hoping to see signs of a dwelling, or of a road, but I could only see the whirling of the snow-drift. All at once I thought I saw some thing black. "Halloo! coachman," I cried out, "what is that black thing yonder?"

The coachman looked attentively where I indicated. "God knows, my lord," he replied, re-mounting to his seat; "it is not a kibitka, nor a tree; it seems to be moving. It must be a wolf or a man!"

I ordered him to go in the direction of the unknown object which was coming toward us. In two minutes we were on a line with it, and I recognized a man.

"Halloo! good man!" shouted my coachman; "tell us, do you know the road?"

"This is the road," replied the man. "I am on solid ground, but what the devil is the good of that."

"Listen, my good peasant," said I; "do you know this country? Can you lead us to a shelter for the night?"

"This country! Thank God, I have been over it on foot and in carriage, from one end to the other. But one can not help losing the road in this weather. It is better to stop here and wait till the hurricane ceases: then the sky will clear, and we can find the way by the stars."

His coolness gave me courage. I had decided to trust myself to the mercy of God and pass the night on the steppe, when the traveler, seating himself on the bench which was the coachman's seat, said to the driver: "Thank God, a dwelling is near. Turn to the right and go on."

"Why should I turn to the right?" said the coachman, sulkily, "where do you see a road?"

"Must I say to you these horses, as well as the harness, belong to another? then use the whip without respite."

I thought my coachman's view rational.

"Why do you believe," said I to the new-comer, "that a dwelling is not far off?"

"The wind blows from that quarter," said he, "and I have smelled smoke - proof that a dwelling is near."

His sagacity, the delicacy of his sense of smell, filled me with admiration; I ordered my coachman to go wherever the other wished. The horses walked heavily through the deep snow. The kibitka advanced but slowly, now raised on a hillock, now descending into a hollow, swaying from side like a boat on a stormy sea.

Saveliitch, falling over on me every instant, moaned. I pulled down the hood of the kibitka, wrapped myself up in my pelisse, and fell asleep, rocked by the swaying of the vehicle, and lulled by the chant of the tempest.

The horses stopped. Saveliitch was holding my hand.

"Come out, my lord," said he, "we have arrived."

"Where have we arrived?" said I, rubbing my eyes.

"At the shelter. God has helped us; we have stumbled right upon the hedge of the dwelling. Come out, my lord, quick; come and warm yourself."

I descended from the kibitka; the hurricane had not ceased, but it had moderated; sight was useless, it was so dark. The master of the house met us at the door, holding a lantern under the flaps of his long coat, the Cossack cafetan. He led us into a small, though no untidy room, lighted by a pine torch. In the centre hung a carabine and a high Cossack cap.

Our host, a Cossack from the river Iaik, was a peasant of some sixty years, still fresh and green.

Saveliitch brought in the case containing my tea-service; he asked for fire to make me a few cups of tea, of which I never had greater need. The host hastened to serve us.

"Where is our guide?" I asked of Saveliitch.

"Here, your lordship," replied a voice from above. I raised my eyes to the loft, and saw a black beard and two sparkling black eyes.

"Well, are you cold?"

"How could I help being cold in this little cafetan full of holes. What's the use of concealment? I had a touloup, but I left it yesterday in pledge with the liquor-seller; then the cold did not seem so great."

At this moment our host entered with the portable furnace and boiler, the Russian Somovar. I offered our guide a cup of tea. Down he came at once. As he stood in the glare of the pine torch his appearance was remarkable. A man about forty years of age, medium height, slight but with broad shoulders. His black beard was turning grey; large, quick, restless eyes, gave him an expression full of cunning, and yet not at all disagreeable. He was dressed in wide Tartar pantaloons and an old jacket. His hair was cut evenly round.

I offered him a cup of tea. He tasted it and made a grimace.

"Do me the favor, my lord, to order me a glass of brandy; tea is not the Cossack's drink."

I willingly granted the request. The host took from the shelf of a closet a bottle and a glass, and going up to him, looking him full in the face, said: "Ah! ah! here you are again in our district. Whence has God brought you?"

My guide winked in the most significant fashion and replied by the well-know proverb: "'The sparrow was in the orchard eating flax-seed; the grandmother threw a stone at it, and missed.' And you? how are all yours?"

"How are we?" said the host, and continuing in proverbs: "'They began to ring the bell for Vespers, but the priest's wife forbade it. The priest went visiting, and the devils are in the graveyard.'"

"Be silent, uncle," said the vagabond.

"'When there shall be rain, there will be mushrooms, and when there shall be mushrooms, there will be a basket to put them in. Put thy hatchet behind thy back, the forest guard is out walking.'"

"To your lordship's health." Taking the glass, he made the sign of the cross, and at one gulp swallowed his brandy. He then saluted me and remounted to his loft. I did not understand a word of this thief's slang. It was only in the sequel that I learned that they spoke of the affairs of the army of the Iaik, which had just been reduced to obedience after the revolt of 1772. Saveliitch listened and glanced suspiciously from host to guide.

The species of inn where we were sheltered was in the very heart of the steppes, far from the road and every inhabited spot, and looked very much like a rendezvous of robbers. But to set off again on our journey was impossible. The disgust of Saveliitch amused not a little; however, he finally decided to mount upon the roof of the stove, the ordinary bed of the Russian peasant. The warm bricks of the hot-air chamber of the stove diffused a grateful heat, and soon the old man and the host, who had laid himself on the floor, were snoring. I stretched myself upon a bench, and slept like a dead. Awaking next morning quite late, I saw that the hurricane was over. The sun shone out, the snow extended in the distance like a sheet of dazzling white damask. The horses were already at the door, harnessed. I paid our host, who asked so small a pittance that even Saveliitch did not, as usual, haggle over the price. His suspicions of the evening before had entirely disappeared. I called the guide to thank him for the service he had done us, and told Saveliitch to give him half a rouble. Saveliitch frowned.

"Half a rouble," said he; "What for? Because you yourself deigned to bring him to the inn? Your will be done, my lord, but we have not a rouble to spare. If we begin by giving drink money to every one we shall end by dying of hunger."

It was useless to argue with him; my money, according to my promise, was entirely at his discretion. But it was very unpleasant not to be able to reward a man who had extricated me from danger, perhaps death.

"Well," said I, coolly, "if you will not give him half a rouble, give one of my coats - he is too thinly clad; give him the hare-skin touloup."

"Have mercy on me! My dear Peter," said Saveliitch, "what does he want with your touloup? He will drink its price, the dog, at the first inn."

"That, my good old man, is none of your business," said the vagabond; "his lordship following the custom of royalty to vassals, gives me a coat from his own back, and your duty as serf is not to dispute, but to obey."

"You have not the fear of God, brigand that you are," said Saveliitch, angrily; "you see that the child has not yet attained to full reason, and there you are, glad to pillage him, thanks to his kind heart. You can not even wear the pelisse on your great, cursed shoulders."

"Come," said I, "do not play the logician; bring the touloup quickly."

"Oh, Lord!" said the old man, moaning - "a touloup of hare-skin! Quite new, - to give it to a drunkard in rags."

It was brought, however, and the vagabond began to get into it. It was rather tight for me, and was much too small for him. He put it on, nevertheless, but with great difficulty, bursting all the seams. Saveliitch uttered something like a smothered howl, when he heard the threads crack. As for the vagabond, he was well pleased with my present. He re-conducted me to my kibitka, and said, with a profound bow: "Thanks, my lord, may god reward you. I shall never forget your goodness."

He went his way, - I set out on mine, paying no attention to the sullenness of Saveliitch. I soon forgot the hurricane and the guide, as well as the touloup of hare-skin.

Arrived at Orenbourg, I presented myself at once to the General. He was a tall man, bent by age, with long hair quite white. An old, worn-out uniform, recalled the soldier of the times of the Empress Anne, and his speech betrayed a strong German accent.

I gave him my father's letter.

Reading my name, he glanced at me quickly. "Mein Gott," said he, "it is so short a time since Andrew Grineff was your age, and now, see what a fine fellow of a son he has. Ah! time! time!" He opened the letter and began to run it over with a commentary of remarks.

"'Sir, I hope your Excellency,' - What is this; what is the meaning of this ceremony? discipline, of course before all, but is this the way to write to an old friend? Hum - 'Field-marshal Munich - little Caroline - brother.' Ah! then he remembers - 'Now to business. I send you my son; hold him with porcupine gloves.'

"What does that mean?" said he, "that must be a Russian proverb."

"It means," said I, with an air of innocence, "to treat a person mildly, to give one liberty."

"Hum!" said he, reading, "'and give him no liberty.' No," he continued, "your proverb does not mean liberty. Well, my son," said he, having finished the letter, "every thing shall be done for you. You shall be an officer in the -- regiment, and not to lose time, go tomorrow to the fort of Belogorsk, where you will serve under Captain Mironoff, a brave and honest man. There you will see service and learn discipline. You have nothing to do here at Orenbourg, and amusements are dangerous to a young man. Today I invite you to dine with me."

From bad to worse, thought I. What was the use of being a Sergeant in the Guards almost from my mother's womb? To what has it led? To the regiment of -- , and an abandoned fortress on the frontier of the steppes!

I dined at the General's in company with his old Aid-de-camp. Severe German economy reigned at table, and I think the fear of having an occasional guest the more had something to do with sending me to a distant garrison.

The next day I took my leave of the General and set out for Belogorsk.

III. THE FORTRESS.

The fortress of Belogorsk is situated forty versts from Orenbourg. The route from this city is along the high banks of the river Iaik. The stream was not yet frozen, and its lead-colored waters took a black tint between banks whitened by the snow. Before me lay the Kirghis steppes. I fell into a moody train of thought, for to me garrison life offered few attractions. I tried to picture my future chief, Captain Mironoff. I imagined a severe, morose old man, knowing nothing outside of the service, ready to arrest me for the least slip. Dusk was falling; we were advancing rapidly.

"How far is it from here to the fortress?" said I to the coachman.

"You can see it now," he answered.

I looked on all sides, expecting to see high bastions, a wall, and a ditch. I saw nothing but a little village surrounded by a wooden palisade. On one side stood some hay-stacks half covered with snow; on the other a wind-mill, leaning to one side; the wings of the mill, made of the heavy bark of the linden tree, hung idle.

"Where is the fortress?" I asked, astonished.

"There it is," said the coachman, pointing to the village which we had just entered. I saw near the gate an old iron cannon. The streets were narrow and winding, and nearly all the huts were thatched with straw. I ordered the coachman to drive to the Commandant's, and almost immediately my kibitka stopped before a wooden house built on an eminence near the church, which was also of wood. From the front door I entered the waiting-room. An old pensioner, seated on a table, was sewing a blue piece on the elbow of a green uniform. I told him to announce me.

"Enter, my good sir," said he, "our people are at home."

I entered a very neat room, furnished in the fashion of other days. On one side stood a cabinet containing the silver. Against the wall hung the diploma of an officer, with colored engravings arranged around its frame; notably, the "Choice of the Betrothed," the "Taking of Kurstrin," and the "Burial of the Cat by the Mice." Near the window sat an old woman in a mantilla, her head wrapped in a handkerchief. She was winding a skein of thread held on the separated hands of a little old man, blind of one eye, who was dressed like an officer.

"What do you desire, my dear sir?" said the woman to me, without interrupting her occupation. I told her that I had come to enter the service, and that, according to rule, I hastened to present myself to the captain. In saying this, I turned to the one-eyed old man, whom I took for the commandant. The good lady interrupted the speech which I had prepared in advance: "Ivan Mironoff is not at home; he is gone to visit Father Garasim; but it is all the same; I am his wife. Deign to love us and have us in favor! Take a seat, my dear sir." She ordered a servant to send her the Corporal. The little old man gazed at me curiously, with his only eye.

"May I dare to ask," said he, "in what regiment you have deigned to serve?"

I satisfied him on that point.

"And may I dare to ask why you changed from the Guards to our garrison?"

I replied that it was by the orders of authority.

"Probably for actions little becoming an officer of the Guards?" resumed the persistent questioner.

"Will you stop your stupidities?" said the Captain's wife to him. "You see the young man is fatigued by the journey; he has something else to do besides answering you. Hold your hands better! And you my dear sir," continued she, turning to me, "do not be too much afflicted that you are thrust into our little town; you are not the first, and will not be the last. Now, there is Alexis Chabrine, who has been transferred to us for a term of four years for murder. God knows what provocation he had. He and a lieutenant went outside the city with their swords, and before two witnesses Alexis killed the lieutenant. Ah! misfortune has no master."

Just then the Corporal entered, a young and handsome Cossack. "Maxim," said the Captain's wife, "give this officer a clean lodging."

"I obey, Basilia," replied the Cossack; "shall I lodge him with Ivan Pologoff?"

"You are doting, Maxim, he has too little space now; besides, he is my child's godfather; and, moreover, he never forgets that we are his chiefs. What is your name, my dear sir?"

"Peter Grineff."

"Then conduct Peter Grineff to the quarters of Simeon Kieff. That rascal let his horse into my vegetable garden. Is all right, Maxim?"

"Thank God, all is quiet, except that Corporal Kourzoff quarreled with the woman Augustina about a pail of warm water."

"Ignatius," said the Captain's wife to the one-eyed man, "judge between the two - decide which one is guilty, and punish both. Go, Maxim, God be with you. Peter Grineff, Maxim will conduct you to your lodgings."

I took my leave; the Corporal led me to a cabin placed on the high bank near the river's edge, at the end of the fortress. Half of the cabin was occupied by the family of Simeon Kieff, the other was given up to me. My half of the cabin was a large apartment divided by a partition. Saveliitch began at once to install us, whilst I looked out of the narrow window. Before me stretched the bleak and barren steppe; nearer rose some cabins; at the threshold of one stood a woman with a bowl in her hand calling the pigs to feed; no other objects met my sight, save a few chickens scratching for stray kernels of corn in the street. And this was the country to which I was condemned to pass my youth! I turned from the window, seized by bitter sadness, and went to bed without supper, notwithstanding the supplications of Saveliitch, who with anguish cried aloud: "Oh! he will not deign to eat! O Lord! what will my mistress say, if the child should fall ill!"

The next morning I had scarcely begun to dress, when a young officer entered my room. He was of small size, with irregular features, but his sun-burned face had remarkable vivacity. "Pardon me," said he in French, "that I come so unceremoniously to make your acquaintance. I learned yesterday of your arrival, and the desire of seeing at last a human face so took possession of me that I could wait no longer. You will understand this when you shall have lived here some time!"

I easily guessed that he was the officer dismissed from the Guards for the affair of the duel - Alexis Chabrine. He was very intelligent; his conversation was sprightly and interesting. He described with impulse and gayety the Commandant's family, society, and in general the whole country round. I was laughing heartily, when Ignatius, the same old pensioner whom I had seen mending his uniform in the Captain's waiting-room, entered, and gave me an invitation to dinner from Basilia Mironoff, the Captain's wife. Alexis declared that he would accompany me.

Approaching the Commandant's house we saw on the square some twenty little old pensioners, with long queues and three-cornered hats. These old men were drawn up in line of battle. Before them stood the Commandant, a fresh and vigorous old man of high stature, in dressing-gown and cotton cap. As soon as he saw us, he approached, addressed me a few affable words, and then resumed his drill. We were going to stay to see the manoeuvering, but he begged us to go on immediately to the house, promising to join us at once; "for," said he, "there is really nothing to be seen here."

Basilia received us kindly, and with simplicity, treating me like an old acquaintance. The pensioner and the maid Polacca were laying the table-cloth.

"What is the matter with my dear Ivan Mironoff, today, that he is so long instructing his troops?" said the mistress. "Polacca, go and bring him to dinner. And where is my child, Marie?" Scarcely had she pronounced this name, than a young girl about sixteen entered the room; - a rosy, round-faced girl, wearing her hair in smooth bandeaux caught behind her ears, which were red with modesty and shyness. She did not please me very much at the first glance; I was prejudiced against her by Alexis, who had described the Captain's daughter to me as a fool. Marie seated herself in a corner and began to sew. The soup was brought on the table. Basilia, not seeing her husband coming, sent the maid a second time to call him.

"Tell the master that his inspection can wait; the soup is cooling. Thank God! the drills need not be lost; there will be time enough yet to use his voice at his leisure."

The captain soon appeared with his one-eyed officer.

"What's this, my dear," said Basilia; "the table has been served some time, and no one could make you come."

"You see, Basilia, I was busy with the service, instructing my good soldiers."

"Come, come, Ivan Mironoff, that's boasting. The service does not suit them, and as for you, you know nothing about it. You should have stayed at home and prayed God, that suits you much better. My dear guests, to table."

We took our places for dinner. Basilia was not silent a moment; she overwhelmed me with questions: Who were my parents? Were they living? Where did they reside? What was their fortune? When she learned that my father owned three hundred serfs, she exclaimed: "You see there are some rich people in the world - and we, my dear sir, in point of souls, we possess only the maid Polacca. Yet, thank God, we live, somehow or other. We have but one care, that is Marie, a girl that must be married off. And what fortune has she? The price of two baths per annum. If only she could find a worthy husband. If not, there she is, eternally a maid."

I glanced at Marie; she blushed, tears were dropping into her soup. I pitied her, and hastened to change the conversation. "I have heard that the Bashkirs intend to attack your fortress?"

"Who said so," replied Ivan Mironoff.

"I heard it at Orenbourg."

"All nonsense," said Ivan, "we have not heard the least word about it; the Bashkirs are an intimidated people; and the Kirghis have also had some good lessons. They dare not attack us, and if they should even dream of it, I would give them so great a fright that they would not move again for ten years."

"Do you not fear," I continued, addressing Basilia, "to stay in a fortress exposed to these dangers?"

"A matter of habit, my dear," she replied, "twenty years ago, when we were transferred here from the regiment, you could not believe how I feared the pagans. If I chanced to see their fur caps, if I heard their shouts, believe me, my heart was ready to faint; but now I am so used to this life, that if told that the brigands were prowling around us, I would not stir from the fortress."

"Basilia is a very brave lady," observed Alexis, gravely. "Ivan Mironoff knows some thing about it."

"Oh, you see," said Ivan, "she does not belong to the regiment of poltroons."

"And Marie," I asked of her mother "is she as bold as you?"