creased ten-fold. They had more artillery, taken from the small forts
captured by Pougatcheff. Remembering our council, I foresaw a long
captivity behind the walls of Orenbourg, and I was ready to cry with
chagrin. Far from me the intention of describing the siege of Orenbourg,
which belongs to history and not to family memoirs. Suffice it to say,
that this siege was disastrous to the inhabitants, who had to
suffer hunger and privations of every kind. Life at Orenbourg became
insupportable. The decision of fate was awaited with anguish. Food was
scarce; bombshells fell upon the defenseless houses of citizens. The
attacks of Pougatcheff made very little excitement. I was dying of
_ennui_. I had promised Accoulina that I would correspond with her, but
communication was cut off, and I could not send or receive a letter
from Belogorsk. My only pastime consisted in military sorties. Thanks
to Pougatcheff I had an excellent horse, and I shared my meager pittance
with it. I went out every day beyond the ramparts to skirmish with
Pougatcheff's advance guards. The rebels had the best of it; they
had plenty of food and were well mounted. Our poor cavalry were in no
condition to oppose them. Sometimes our half-starved infantry went
into the field; but the depth of the snow hindered them from acting
successfully against the flying cavalry of the enemy. The artillery
vainly thundered from the ramparts, and in the field it could not
advance, because of the weakness of our attenuated horses. This was our
way of making war; this is what the civil service employes of Orenbourg
called prudence and foresight.

One day when we had routed and driven before us quite a large troop, I
overtook a straggling Cossack; my Turkish sabre was uplifted to strike
him when he doffed his cap and cried out: "Good day, Peter, how fares
your health?"

I recognized our Corporal. I was delighted to see him.

"Good day, Maxim. How long since you left Belogorsk?"

"Not long, Peter. I came yesterday. I have a letter for you."

"Where is it?" I cried, delighted.

"Here," replied Maxim, putting his hand in his bosom. "I promised
Polacca to try and give it to you." He gave me a folded paper, and set
off on a gallop. I read with agitation the following lines:

"By the will of God I am deprived of my parents, and except you, Peter,
I know of no one who can protect me; Alexis commands in place of my late
father. He so terrified Father Garasim that I was obliged