"I am not with a comrade; I am . . . . with a lady."
"With a lady! Where didst thou hook her? Aha! sir!"
With these words, Zourine whistled in such an extraordinary manner, that all burst out laughing. I got quite confused.
"Very well," continued Zourine, "thou shalt have a lodging. But it is a pity . . . . We should have feasted as in old times . . . . I say, boy! why don't they bring Pougatcheff's kouma here? Or is she capricious? Tell her not to be afraid; the master is a kind man, he will not offend her—lead her in by the shoulders."
"What art thou talking about?" said I to Zourine. "What kouma of Pougatcheff? It is the daughter of the late Captain Mironoff. I delivered her out of captivity, and am now taking her to my father's house, where I shall leave her."
"What? then it was thee they reported just now? Gracious! what is the meaning of it all?"
"I shall tell thee by-and-by; but at present, for God's sake, come and reassure the poor girl, whom thy hussars have frightened."
Zourine immediately made the necessary arrangements. He went out himself to apologise to Maria Ivanovna for the involuntary misunderstanding, and ordered the sergeant-major to take her to the best lodgings in the town. I remained his guest for the night.
We supped, and when we were left alone I related to him my adventures. Zourine listened very attentively. When I had concluded, he shook his head and said:—
