Having said these words, she rose and went away by a covered walk.
Marya returned home full of joyful hope.
Her hostess scolded her for her early morning walk--bad, she said, in
the autumn for the health of a young girl. She brought the "samovar,"
and over a cup of tea she was about to resume her endless discussion of
the Court, when a carriage with a coat-of-arms stopped before the door.
A lackey in the Imperial livery entered the room, announcing that the
Tzarina deigned to call to her presence the daughter of Captain
Mironoff.
Anna Vlassiefna was quite upset by this news.
"Oh, good heavens!" cried she; "the Tzarina summons you to Court! How
did she know of your arrival? And how will you acquit yourself before
the Tzarina, my little mother? I think you do not even know how to walk
Court fashion. I ought to take you; or, stay, should I not send for the
midwife, that she might lend you her yellow gown with flounces?"
But the lackey declared that the Tzarina wanted Marya Ivanofna to come
alone, and in the dress she should happen to be wearing. There was
nothing for it but to obey, and Marya Ivanofna started.
She foresaw that our fate was in the balance, and her heart beat
violently. After a few moments the coach stopped before the Palace, and
Marya, after crossing a long suite of empty and sumptuous rooms, was
ushered at last into the boudoir of the Tzarina. Some lords, who stood
around there, respectfully opened a way for the young girl.
The Tzarina, in whom Marya recognized the lady of the garden, said to
her, graciously-"I am delighted to be able to accord you your prayer. I have had it all
looked into. I am convinced of the innocence of your betrothed. Here is
a letter which you will give your future father-in-law." Marya, all in
tears, fell at the feet of the Tzarina, who raised her, and kissed her
forehead. "I know," said she, "you are not rich, but I owe a debt to
the daughter of Captain Mironoff. Be easy about your future."
After overwhelming the poor orphan with caresses, the Tzarina dismissed
her, and Marya started the same day for my father's country house,
without having even had the curiosity to take a look at Petersburg.
Here end the memoirs of Petr' Andrejitch Grineff; but family tradition
asserts that he was released from captivity at the end of the year 1774,
that he was present at the execution of Pugatchef, and that the latter,
recognizing him in the crowd, made him a farewell sign with the head
which, a few moments later, was held up to the people, lifeless and
bleeding.
Soon afterwards Petr' Andrejitch became the husband of Marya Ivanofna.
Their descendants still live in the district of Simbirsk.