Pugatchef was gone.
I long watched the steppe over which his "kibitka" was rapidly
gliding.
The crowd dwindled away; Chvabrine disappeared. I went back to the
pope's house, where all was being made ready for our departure. Our
little luggage had been put in the old vehicle of the Commandant. In a
moment the horses were harnessed.
Marya went to bid a last farewell to the tomb of her parents, buried
behind the church.
I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, and
soon came back, weeping quiet tears.
Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took our
seats, three abreast, inside the "kibitka," and Saveliitch again
perched in front.
"Good-bye, Marya Ivanofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch,
our gay goshawk!" the pope's wife cried to us. "A lucky journey to you,
and may God give you abundant happiness!"
We started. At the Commandant's window I saw Chvabrine standing, with a
face of dark hatred.
I did not wish to triumph meanly over a humbled enemy, and looked away
from him.
At last we passed the principal gate, and for ever left Fort Belogorsk.