Short Fiction, Xavier de Maistre [books to read in your 20s txt] 📗

and I have yet fifty cartouches for my enemies, and the traitor who has brought them.” While he said this, and during the short dialogue which followed, he aimed at the Major.

“Thou art not betrayed,” anxiously answered the faithful servant. “It is not my fault that I do not return alone, but, though accompanied, I am ready to give thee the stipulated ransom.”

“Command the Cossacks to retire, or I pull my trigger.”

At that critical moment, Kascambo cried to the officer of the Cossacks to retire; and they retreated to some distance, accompanied by Ivan, who, however, soon returned to his master. But the suspicious Tchetcheng would not permit him to approach. He obliged him to count the money on the road, at some distance from the house, and to retire as soon as he had done so.

The Tchetcheng went to take the ransom, and then returned to the terrace, where kneeling at the Major’s feet, he craved his pardon, and begged him to forget the ill-treatment which, for sake of his own safety, he had been obliged to make him endure. “I shall only remember,” answered Kascambo, “that I have been thy guest, and that thou hast kept thy word. But stop, thou hast not yet given me my liberty.” Ivan approaching anew, the Tchetcheng, instead of loosening the Major’s bonds, sprang from the terrace on the ground and ran off at full speed.

On the same day, honest Ivan had the glory and satisfaction to see his master surrounded by friends, who had long abandoned all hope of his deliverance.

The narrator of this anecdote happening, some months after the Major’s final rescue, to pass, in the night, before a small but neat house of Iegroviesky,22 alighted from his coach to inquire the occasion of the gay scene, which was passing within. A young Sergeant was standing near the window, apparently also an unbidden spectator of the dance.

“Who gives the ball?” inquired the traveller.

“It is our Major’s wedding.”

“What is your Major’s name?”

“Kascambo.”

The traveller, who had heard the Major’s eventful story, was glad that he had yielded to his curiosity, and desired to know which of the officers, assembled in the room, was Kascambo. The individual to whom the Sergeant pointed, did not then seem to have ever endured any suffering. — “Pray, show me also the honest soldier, who delivered him.”

The Sergeant, after a little hesitation, answered: “Sir, I am the person.” The traveller, greatly pleased with the fortunate accident which had procured him the personal acquaintance of the brave soldier, was much struck with his youthful appearance. He had not indeed attained his twentieth year, and had just been advanced to his present rank, and received a sum of money, as a reward for his courage and fidelity. When the stranger expressed his surprise at not seeing him among the guests, assembled at the Major’s wedding, and, on that account, taxed the latter with ingratitude, Ivan, without uttering a word, but frowning angrily at the censor, and whistling the burden of his favourite song, “Hai luli! hai luli!” entered the house; and when the traveller looked again into the room, he saw him proudly moving among his officers.

The Young Siberian

When they thrust me from my native land,
Didst thou stand forth, my firm and faithful guide.
And now, beloved daughter, to thy sire
What errand dost thou bear? What weighty cause
Moved thee to quit thy home?
Toil is light
When we but labour in a parent’s cause.

—⁠Oedipus at Colonos

The pious fortitude and courage of a poor girl, who, towards the end of the reign of the Emperor Paul, wandered from Siberia to St. Petersburg to obtain the liberty of her exiled parents, attracted sufficient public attention, to induce a celebrated authoress to transform her into the heroine of a novel. But those who knew her personally, are apt to regret, that adventures and ideas of a romantic nature had been ascribed to a generous but sober-minded girl, who never felt any other passion than the most exalted fondness for her parents, and who derived from that exclusive feeling, the first impulse for attempting a most adventurous undertaking, and the strength to carry it into execution.

The simple and unadorned narrative of her toils, is perhaps not fitted to produce the breathless interest, which we feel sometimes for imaginary vicissitudes, and for beings of unreal existence; but we believe that her story, though possessing only the merit of truth, will be read by many with some pleasure.

Her name was Prascovia Lopouloff. Her father belonged to a noble family of Ukraine, was born in Hungary, whither accidents conducted his parents, and served for some time in the Black-Hussars; but went early in life to Russia, married, and engaged in the military service of that country, which was in fact his own. He made several campaigns against the Turks, and was at the storming of Ismail and Otchakoff. His gallant conduct won him the esteem of his regiment. The cause of his exile to Siberia is not known, his trial, and the reexamination of it in latter times, having remained a secret. Some persons pretended to know that he had been accused of insubordination by his commanding officer, who was unfriendly to him. Whatever may have been the cause of it, he had been in Siberia fourteen years, when his daughter undertook her journey to St. Petersburgh. The place of his banishment was Ischim,23 a village on the frontiers of the government of Tobolsk: he lived there with his wife and daughter, up on the small allowance of ten kopecks a day, which is paid to the prisoners who are not condemned to hard labour.

Young Prascovia contributed by her industry to the subsistence of her parents. She lent her services to the laundresses of the village, or made herself useful, at harvest time, in the fields, and worked as hard as her strength permitted. Rye, eggs, and vegetables, were the reward of her exertions. She was