The visitor's daughter forgave the watch box and pardoned it. Captain's daughter
Cheyenne Rye Owensby is a healthy, happy baby girl. She was born beautiful and strong and delighted everyone around with her charming smile.
The girl's parents divorced shortly after her birth, and the father visited his daughter on weekends. That day, Cheyenne's mother Amy handed her ex-husband the baby wrapped in a blanket and asked him to stay with her while she went away for a while on business.
But half an hour later the doctors called the woman. Something terrible happened to her baby.
Dad, angry with his 8-month-old daughter, lost control. He suddenly grabbed the child and began to shake her desperately. The girl's head was still too weak to withstand the strength of an adult. Her skull was cracked and internal bleeding began. Cheyenne's only fault was that she cried too loudly.
The mother was informed that her daughter was taken to the hospital. And that she's not breathing.
Doctors said Cheyenne would never wake up again and would remain in a vegetative state forever. “I cried, I was shaking and vomiting, I prayed to God to take me instead of her. I went to her bed, she was so swollen! Her legs were black with blood clots. The police called me and said that James admitted his guilt and said that he shook her,” the mother recalls.
“The man who was my first love, the man with whom I spent almost ten years of my life, did this to our daughter. My whole life has collapsed."
Cheyenne's father went to prison for twenty years. The mother continued to fight for her daughter’s life. No one believed that the baby would ever be able to emerge from her vegetative state. The doctors thought maybe it would be better for her to die...
But a miracle happened! Cheyenne woke up after undergoing severe brain surgery. At first, the right side of her body remained paralyzed. The girl went through a huge number of medical procedures.
Cheyenne is already four years old. She is a charming child: she enjoys life, makes friends, and has fun. No one can believe what once happened to this girl. Yet she still sees doctors and spends a lot of time in the hospital. Doctors fear that the consequences of the experience will still make themselves felt.
It’s unlikely that the girl’s dad understood the harm he could cause her! Unaccustomed to the whims of a baby, he was literally blinded by anger. Which in no way justifies his behavior. There is nothing more terrible for a child than to suffer at the hands of those closest to him!
Take care of your loved ones!
Life 839
Worldly rumor -
Sea wave.
Proverb.
I was sure that my unauthorized absence from Orenburg was to blame. I could easily justify myself: not only was horse riding never prohibited, but it was also encouraged by all means. I could have been accused of being too hot-tempered, not of disobedience. But my friendly relations with Pugachev could be proven by many witnesses and should have seemed at least very suspicious. All the way I thought about the interrogations awaiting me, pondered my answers and decided to declare the real truth before the court, believing this method of justification to be the simplest, and at the same time the most reliable. I arrived in Kazan, devastated and burned. Along the streets, instead of houses, there were piles of coals and smoky walls without roofs or windows sticking out. Such was the trail left by Pugachev! I was brought to a fortress that had survived in the middle of a burnt city. The hussars handed me over to the guard officer. He ordered to call the blacksmith. They put a chain on my feet and chained it tightly. Then they took me to prison and left me alone in a cramped and dark cell, with only bare walls and a window blocked by an iron grate. This beginning did not bode well for me. However, I did not lose either courage or hope. I resorted to the consolation of all the mourners and, for the first time tasting the sweetness of prayer poured out from a pure but torn heart, I calmly fell asleep, not caring about what would happen to me. The next day the prison guard woke me up with an announcement that they wanted me to serve on the commission. Two soldiers led me across the courtyard to the commandant's house, stopped in the hallway and let one into the inner rooms. I entered a rather large hall. Two people were sitting at a table covered with papers: an elderly general, looking stern and cold, and a young guard captain, about twenty-eight years old, very pleasant in appearance, dexterous and free in his manners. A secretary sat at the window at a special table with a pen behind his ear, leaning over the paper, ready to write down my testimony. The interrogation began. I was asked about my name and rank. The general inquired if I was the son of Andrei Petrovich Grinev? And to my answer he objected sternly: “It’s a pity that such an honorable man has such an unworthy son!” I calmly replied that whatever the accusations weighing on me, I hoped to dispel them with a sincere explanation of the truth. He didn't like my confidence. “You, brother, are a fool,” he told me, frowning, “but we’ve seen others like him!” Then the young man asked me: on what occasion and at what time did I enter Pugachev’s service and on what orders was I employed by him? I answered with indignation that I, as an officer and a nobleman, could not enter into any service with Pugachev and could not accept any orders from him. “How is it,” my interrogator objected, “that a nobleman and an officer alone were spared by an impostor, while all his comrades were villainously killed?” How does this same officer and nobleman feast in a friendly manner with the rebels, accept gifts, a fur coat, a horse and half a piece of money from the main villain? Why did such a strange friendship arise and on what is it based, if not on betrayal or at least on vile and criminal cowardice? I was deeply offended by the words of the guards officer and eagerly began my justification. I told how my acquaintance with Pugachev began in the steppe, during a snowstorm; how, during the capture of the Belogorsk fortress, he recognized me and spared me. I said that the sheepskin coat and the horse, however, I was not ashamed to accept from the impostor; but that I defended the Belogorsk fortress against the villain to the last extreme. Finally, I referred to my general, who could testify to my zeal during the disastrous siege of Orenburg. The stern old man took an open letter from the table and began to read it aloud: - “In response to your Excellency’s request regarding Ensign Grinev, who was allegedly involved in the current turmoil and entered into relations with the villain, whose service was prohibited and the oath of duty was contrary, I have the honor to explain: this Ensign Grinev was in service in Orenburg from the beginning of October last 1773 until February 24 this year, on which date he left the city and since then has not been on my team. And we hear from defectors that he was with Pugachev in the settlement and went with him to the Belogorsk fortress, where he had previously served; as for his behavior, I can...” Here he interrupted his reading and said to me sternly: “What will you tell yourself now as an excuse?” I wanted to continue as I began and explain my connection with Marya Ivanovna as sincerely as everything else. But suddenly I felt an irresistible disgust. It occurred to me that if I named her, the commission would demand her to answer; and the thought of entangling her name among the vile reports of villains and bringing her herself into a confrontation with them - this terrible thought struck me so much that I hesitated and became confused. My judges, who seemed to begin to listen to my answers with some favor, were again prejudiced against me at the sight of my embarrassment. The guards officer demanded that I be confronted with the main informer. The general ordered to click yesterday's villain. I quickly turned to the door, awaiting the appearance of my accuser. A few minutes later the chains rattled, the doors opened, and Shvabrin walked in. I was amazed at his change. He was terribly thin and pale. His hair, recently jet black, was completely grey; his long beard was unkempt. He repeated his accusations in a weak but bold voice. According to him, I was sent by Pugachev to Orenburg as a spy; went out every day to shootouts in order to convey written news about everything that was happening in the city; that at last he had clearly given himself over to the impostor, he traveled with him from fortress to fortress, trying in every possible way to destroy his fellow traitors in order to take their places and enjoy the rewards distributed from the impostor. I listened to him in silence and was pleased with one thing: Marya Ivanovna’s name was not uttered by the vile villain, perhaps because his pride suffered at the thought of the one who rejected him with contempt; Is it because in his heart was hidden a spark of the same feeling that forced me to remain silent - be that as it may, the name of the daughter of the Belogorsk commandant was not uttered in the presence of the commission. I was even more confirmed in my intention, and when the judges asked how I could refute Shvabrin’s testimony, I answered that I adhered to my first explanation and could not say anything else to justify myself. The general ordered us to be taken out. We went out together. I looked calmly at Shvabrin, but didn’t say a word to him. He grinned an evil grin and, lifting his chains, got ahead of me and quickened his steps. I was again taken to prison and from then on I was no longer required to be interrogated. I did not witness everything that remains for me to inform the reader about; but I heard stories about it so often that the slightest details were etched into my memory and that it seemed to me as if I was there, invisibly present. Marya Ivanovna was received by my parents with that sincere cordiality that distinguished people of the old century. They saw the grace of God in the fact that they had the opportunity to shelter and caress a poor orphan. Soon they became sincerely attached to her, because it was impossible to recognize her and not love her. My love no longer seemed like an empty whim to my father; and mother only wanted her Petrusha to marry the captain’s sweet daughter. The rumor of my arrest shocked my entire family. Marya Ivanovna told my parents so simply about my strange acquaintance with Pugachev that not only did it not bother them, but it also made them often laugh from the bottom of their hearts. Father did not want to believe that I could be involved in a vile rebellion, whose goal was the overthrow of the throne and the extermination of the noble family. He strictly interrogated Savelich. The uncle did not hide the fact that the master was visiting Emelka Pugachev and that the villain did favor him; but he swore that he had never heard of any treason. The old people calmed down and began to eagerly await favorable news. Marya Ivanovna was greatly alarmed, but remained silent, for she was extremely gifted with modesty and caution. Several weeks have passed... Suddenly the priest receives a letter from our relative Prince B** from St. Petersburg. The prince wrote to him about me. After the usual attack, he announced to him that the suspicions about my participation in the plans of the rebels, unfortunately, turned out to be too solid, that an exemplary execution should have befallen me, but that the empress, out of respect for the merits and advanced years of her father, decided to pardon the criminal son and, sparing him from a shameful execution, she only ordered that he be exiled to the remote region of Siberia for eternal settlement. This unexpected blow almost killed my father. He lost his usual firmness, and his grief (usually silent) poured out in bitter complaints. "How! - he repeated, losing his temper. - My son participated in Pugachev’s plans! Good God, what have I lived to see! The Empress spares him from execution! Does this make it any easier for me? It is not the execution that is terrible: my ancestor died on the execution site, defending what he considered sacred to his conscience; my father suffered along with Volynsky and Khrushchev. But for a nobleman to betray his oath, to unite with robbers, with murderers, with runaway slaves!.. Shame and disgrace to our family!..” Frightened by his despair, his mother did not dare cry in front of him and tried to restore his cheerfulness, talking about the untruthfulness of the rumor, about the unsteadiness human opinion. My father was inconsolable. Marya Ivanovna suffered more than anyone. Being sure that I could justify myself whenever I wanted, she guessed the truth and considered herself to be the culprit of my misfortune. She hid her tears and suffering from everyone and meanwhile constantly thought about ways to save me. One evening the priest was sitting on the sofa, turning over the sheets of the Court Calendar; but his thoughts were far away, and reading did not produce its usual effect on him. He whistled an old march. Mother silently knitted a woolen sweatshirt, and tears occasionally dripped onto her work. Suddenly Marya Ivanovna, who was sitting right there at work, announced that necessity was forcing her to go to St. Petersburg and that she was asking for a way to go. Mother was very upset. “Why do you need to go to St. Petersburg? - she said. “Do you really want to leave us, Marya Ivanovna?” Marya Ivanovna replied that her entire future fate depended on this journey, that she was going to seek protection and help from strong people, as the daughter of a man who had suffered for his fidelity. My father lowered his head: every word reminiscent of his son’s imaginary crime was painful to him and seemed like a caustic reproach. “Go, mother! - he told her with a sigh. “We don’t want to interfere with your happiness.” May God give you a good man as your groom, not a defamed traitor.” He stood up and left the room. Marya Ivanovna, left alone with her mother, partially explained her assumptions to her. Mother hugged her with tears and prayed to God for a successful end to her planned business. Marya Ivanovna was equipped, and a few days later she set off on the road with the faithful Palash and with the faithful Savelich, who, being forcibly separated from me, was consoled at least by the thought that he was serving my betrothed bride. Marya Ivanovna arrived safely in Sofia and, having learned at the post office that the Court was at that time in Tsarskoe Selo, she decided to stop here. She was given a corner behind a partition. The caretaker's wife immediately started talking to her, announced that she was the niece of the court stoker, and initiated her into all the mysteries of court life. She told what time the empress usually woke up, ate coffee, and took a walk; what nobles were with her at that time; that she deigned to speak at her table yesterday, who she received in the evening - in a word, Anna Vlasyevna’s conversation was worth several pages of historical notes and would be precious for posterity. Marya Ivanovna listened to her with attention. They went to the garden. Anna Vlasyevna told the story of each alley and each bridge, and, having walked around, they returned to the station very pleased with each other. The next day, early in the morning, Marya Ivanovna woke up, got dressed and quietly went into the garden. The morning was beautiful, the sun illuminated the tops of the linden trees, which had already turned yellow under the fresh breath of autumn. The wide lake shone motionless. The awakened swans swam importantly from under the bushes that shaded the shore. Marya Ivanovna walked near a beautiful meadow, where a monument had just been erected in honor of the recent victories of Count Pyotr Alexandrovich Rumyantsev. Suddenly a white dog of the English breed barked and ran towards her. Marya Ivanovna got scared and stopped. At that very moment a pleasant female voice rang out: “Don’t be afraid, she won’t bite.” And Marya Ivanovna saw a lady sitting on a bench opposite the monument. Marya Ivanovna sat down at the other end of the bench. The lady looked at her intently; and Marya Ivanovna, for her part, casting several indirect glances, managed to examine her from head to toe. She was in a white morning dress, a nightcap and a shower jacket. She seemed to be about forty years old. Her face, plump and rosy, expressed importance and calmness, and her blue eyes and light smile had an inexplicable charm. The lady was the first to break the silence. -You're not from here, are you? - she said. - Exactly so, sir: I just arrived from the provinces yesterday. — Did you come with your family? - No way, sir. I came alone. - One! But you are still so young. - I have neither father nor mother. - You are here, of course, on some business? - Exactly so, sir. I came to submit a request to the Empress. - You are an orphan: probably you complain about injustice and insult? - No way, sir. I came to ask for mercy, not justice. - Let me ask, who are you? - I am the daughter of Captain Mironov. - Captain Mironov! the same one who was the commandant in one of the Orenburg fortresses?- Exactly so, sir. The lady seemed touched. “Excuse me,” she said in an even more affectionate voice, “if I interfere in your affairs; but I am at court; Explain to me what your request is, and maybe I will be able to help you.” Marya Ivanovna stood up and thanked her respectfully. Everything about the unknown lady involuntarily attracted the heart and inspired confidence. Marya Ivanovna took a folded paper out of her pocket and handed it to her unfamiliar patron, who began to read it to herself. At first she read with an attentive and supportive look; but suddenly her face changed, and Marya Ivanovna, who followed all her movements with her eyes, was frightened by the stern expression of this face, so pleasant and calm for a minute. -Are you asking for Grinev? - said the lady with a cold look. “The Empress cannot forgive him.” He stuck to the impostor not out of ignorance and gullibility, but as an immoral and harmful scoundrel. - Oh, that’s not true! - Marya Ivanovna screamed. - How untrue! - the lady objected, flushing all over. - It’s not true, by God it’s not true! I know everything, I will tell you everything. For me alone, he was exposed to everything that befell him. And if he did not justify himself before the court, it was only because he did not want to confuse me. “Here she eagerly told everything that my reader already knew. The lady listened to her with attention. "Where are you staying?" - she asked later; and hearing what Anna Vlasyevna had, said with a smile: “Ah! I know. Goodbye, don't tell anyone about our meeting. I hope that you will not wait long for an answer to your letter." With this word, she stood up and entered the covered alley, and Marya Ivanovna returned to Anna Vlasyevna, filled with joyful hope. The hostess scolded her for an early autumn walk, which, according to her, was harmful to the young girl’s health. She brought a samovar and, over a cup of tea, was just about to begin endless stories about the court, when suddenly the court carriage stopped at the porch, and the chamberlain came in with the announcement that the empress would deign to invite the maiden Mironova. Anna Vlasyevna was amazed and worried. “Oh my God! - she screamed. - The Empress demands you to come to court. How did she find out about you? But how will you, mother, introduce yourself to the empress? You, I am tea, don’t even know how to step like a courtier... Should I escort you? Still, I can at least warn you about something. And how can you travel in a traveling dress? Should I send to the midwife for her yellow robron?” The chamberlain announced that the empress wanted Marya Ivanovna to travel alone and in what she would be found wearing. There was nothing to do: Marya Ivanovna got into the carriage and went to the palace, accompanied by the advice and blessings of Anna Vlasyevna. Marya Ivanovna foresaw the decision of our fate; her heart beat strongly and sank. A few minutes later the carriage stopped at the palace. Marya Ivanovna walked up the stairs with trepidation. The doors opened wide in front of her. She passed a long row of empty, magnificent rooms; the chamberlain showed the way. Finally, approaching the locked doors, he announced that he would now report on her, and left her alone. The thought of seeing the Empress face to face frightened her so much that she could hardly stand on her feet. A minute later the doors opened and she entered the empress’s dressing room. The Empress was sitting at her toilet. Several courtiers surrounded her and respectfully let Marya Ivanovna through. The Empress addressed her kindly, and Marya Ivanovna recognized her as the lady with whom she had spoken so frankly a few minutes ago. The Empress called her over and said with a smile: “I am glad that I could keep my word to you and fulfill your request. Your business is over. I am convinced of your fiance's innocence. Here is a letter that you yourself will take the trouble to take to your future father-in-law.” Marya Ivanovna accepted the letter with a trembling hand and, crying, fell at the feet of the Empress, who picked her up and kissed her. The Empress got into conversation with her. “I know that you are not rich,” she said, “but I am indebted to the daughter of Captain Mironov. Don't worry about the future. I take it upon myself to arrange your condition.” Having treated the poor orphan kindly, the empress released her. Marya Ivanovna left in the same court carriage. Anna Vlasyevna, impatiently awaiting her return, showered her with questions, to which Marya Ivanovna answered somehow. Although Anna Vlasyevna was dissatisfied with her unconsciousness, she attributed it to provincial shyness and generously excused her. That same day, Marya Ivanovna, not interested in looking at St. Petersburg, went back to the village... The notes of Pyotr Andreevich Grinev stop here. From family legends it is known that he was released from prison at the end of 1774, by personal order; that he was present at the execution of Pugachev, who recognized him in the crowd and nodded his head to him, which a minute later, dead and bloody, was shown to the people. Soon afterwards, Pyotr Andreevich married Marya Ivanovna. Their descendants prosper in the Simbirsk province. Thirty miles from *** there is a village owned by ten landowners. In one of the master's wings they show a handwritten letter from Catherine II behind glass and in a frame. It was written to the father of Pyotr Andreevich and contains justification for his son and praise for the mind and heart of Captain Mironov’s daughter. The manuscript of Pyotr Andreevich Grinev was delivered to us from one of his grandchildren, who learned that we were busy with work dating back to the times described by his grandfather. We decided, with the permission of our relatives, to publish it separately, adding a decent epigraph to each chapter and allowing ourselves to change some of our own names.
Oct 19 1836.
This work has entered the public domain. The work was written by an author who died more than seventy years ago, and was published during his lifetime or posthumously, but more than seventy years have also passed since publication. It may be freely used by anyone without anyone's consent or permission and without payment of royalties.
Oh you girl, you red girl!
Don’t go, girl, you’re young to get married;
You ask, girl, father, mother,
Father, mother, clan-tribe;
Save up your mind, girl,
Mind-blowing, dowry.
Folk song
If you find me better, you will forget me,
If you find me worse, you will remember.
Same
When I woke up, I could not come to my senses for some time and did not understand what had happened to me. I lay on the bed, in an unfamiliar room, and felt very weak. Savelich stood in front of me with a candle in his hands. Someone carefully developed the slings with which my chest and shoulder were tied. Little by little my thoughts became clearer. I remembered my fight and guessed that I was wounded. At that moment the door creaked open. "What? What?" – said a voice in a whisper, which made me tremble. “Everyone is in the same position,” Savelich answered with a sigh, “everyone is without memory, this is already the fifth day.” I wanted to turn around, but I couldn’t. "Where I am? Who is there?" – I said with effort. Marya Ivanovna came up to my bed and leaned towards me. "What? How are you feeling?" - she said. “Thank God,” I answered in a weak voice. - Is it you, Marya Ivanovna? tell me...” I was unable to continue and fell silent. Savelich gasped. Joy appeared on his face. “I came to my senses! I came to my senses! - he repeated. - Glory to you, lord! Well, Father Pyotr Andreich! you scared me! Is it easy? fifth day!..” Marya Ivanovna interrupted his speech. “Don’t talk to him much, Savelich,” she said. “He’s still weak.” She went out and quietly closed the door. My thoughts were worried. So, I was in the commandant’s house, Marya Ivanovna came in to see me. I wanted to ask Savelich some questions, but the old man shook his head and covered his ears. I closed my eyes in annoyance and soon fell asleep.
When I woke up, I called Savelich and instead of him I saw Marya Ivanovna in front of me; her angelic voice greeted me. I cannot express the sweet feeling that took possession of me at that moment. I grabbed her hand and clung to it, shedding tears of tenderness. Masha didn’t tear her away... and suddenly her lips touched my cheek, and I felt their hot and fresh kiss. Fire ran through me. “Dear, kind Marya Ivanovna,” I told her, “be my wife, agree to my happiness.” - She came to her senses. “For God’s sake, calm down,” she said, taking her hand away from me. “You are still in danger: the wound may open.” Save yourself at least for me." With that word she left, leaving me in a rapture of delight. Happiness resurrected me. She will be mine! she loves Me! This thought filled my entire existence.
From then on, I got better hour by hour. I was treated by the regimental barber, for there was no other doctor in the fortress, and, thank God, he did not act clever. Youth and nature hastened my recovery. The entire family of the commandant looked after me. Marya Ivanovna did not leave my side. Of course, at the first opportunity, I began the interrupted explanation, and Marya Ivanovna listened to me more patiently. Without any affectation, she confessed to me her heartfelt inclination and said that her parents, of course, would be glad of her happiness. “But think carefully,” she added, “will there be any obstacles from your relatives?”
I thought about it. I had no doubt about my mother’s tenderness; but, knowing my father’s character and way of thinking, I felt that my love would not touch him too much and that he would look at it as a whim of a young man. I sincerely admitted this to Marya Ivanovna and decided, however, to write to my father as eloquently as possible, asking for my parent’s blessing. I showed the letter to Marya Ivanovna, who found it so convincing and touching that she had no doubt about its success and surrendered to the feelings of her tender heart with all the trustfulness of youth and love.
A. S. Pushkin. Captain's daughter. Audiobook
I made peace with Shvabrin in the first days of my recovery. Ivan Kuzmich, reprimanding me for the fight, told me: “Eh, Pyotr Andreich! I should have put you under arrest, but you are already punished. And Alexey Ivanovich is still sitting in the bread store under guard, and Vasilisa Yegorovna has his sword under lock and key. Let him come to his senses and repent.” I was too happy to keep a feeling of hostility in my heart. I began to plead for Shvabrin, and the good commandant, with the consent of his wife, decided to release him. Shvabrin came to me; he expressed deep regret for what happened between us; admitted that he was all to blame and asked me to forget about the past. Being by nature not vindictive, I sincerely forgave him both our quarrel and the wound I received from him. In his slander I saw the annoyance of offended pride and rejected love and generously excused my unfortunate rival.
I soon recovered and was able to move into my apartment. I eagerly awaited an answer to the letter sent, not daring to hope and trying to drown out sad forebodings. I have not yet explained to Vasilisa Egorovna and her husband; but my proposal should not have surprised them. Neither I nor Marya Ivanovna tried to hide our feelings from them, and we were already sure of their agreement in advance.
Finally, one morning Savelich came in to see me, holding a letter in his hands. I grabbed it with trepidation. The address was written by the priest's hand. This prepared me for something important, because my mother usually wrote letters to me, and he added a few lines at the end. For a long time I did not open the package and re-read the solemn inscription: “To my son Pyotr Andreevich Grinev, to the Orenburg province, to the Belogorsk fortress.” I tried to guess from the handwriting the mood in which the letter was written; I finally decided to print it out and from the first lines I saw that the whole thing had gone to hell. The contents of the letter were as follows:
“My son Peter! We received your letter, in which you ask us for our parental blessing and consent to marry Marya Ivanova, Mironova’s daughter, on the 15th of this month, and not only do I not intend to give you either my blessing or my consent, but I also intend to to get to you and for your pranks to teach you a lesson like a boy, despite your officer rank: for you have proven that you are still unworthy of wearing a sword, which was granted to you to defend the fatherland, and not for duels with the same brats as you yourself. I will immediately write to Andrei Karlovich, asking him to transfer you from the Belogorsk fortress somewhere further away, where your nonsense will go away. Your mother, having learned about your fight and that you were wounded, fell ill with grief and is now lying down. What will you become? I pray to God that you will improve, although I do not dare hope for his great mercy.
Your father A.G.”
Reading this letter aroused different feelings in me. The cruel expressions, which the priest did not skimp on, deeply offended me. The disdain with which he mentioned Marya Ivanovna seemed to me as obscene as it was unfair. The thought of my transfer from the Belogorsk fortress terrified me; But what saddened me most was the news of my mother’s illness. I was indignant at Savelich, having no doubt that my fight became known to my parents through him. Walking back and forth in my cramped room, I stopped in front of him and said, looking at him menacingly: “Apparently, you are not satisfied that, thanks to you, I was wounded and was on the edge of the grave for a whole month: you want to kill my mother too.” . Savelich was struck like thunder. “For mercy, sir,” he said, almost bursting into tears, “what do you want to say? I'm the reason you were hurt! God knows, I ran to shield you with my chest from Alexei Ivanovich’s sword! Damn old age got in the way. What did I do to your mother?” - "What did you do? - I answered. -Who asked you to write denunciations against me? Are you assigned to me as a spy? - "I? wrote denunciations against you? - Savelich answered with tears. - Lord, the king of heaven! So please read what the master writes to me: you will see how I denounced you.” Then he took a letter out of his pocket, and I read the following:
“Shame on you, old dog, that you, despite my strict orders, did not inform me about my son Pyotr Andreevich and that strangers are forced to notify me of his mischief. Is this how you fulfill your position and the will of your master? I love you, old dog! I will send pigs to graze for hiding the truth and conniving with the young man. Having received this, I order you to immediately write to me, what is his health now, about which they write to me that he has recovered; and where exactly was he wounded and whether he was well treated.”
It was obvious that Savelich was right in front of me and that I needlessly insulted him with reproach and suspicion. I asked him for forgiveness; but the old man was inconsolable. “This is what I have lived to see,” he repeated, “this is what favors I have received from my masters! I am an old dog and a swineherd, and am I also the cause of your wound? No, Father Pyotr Andreich! It’s not me, the damned monsieur, who is to blame for everything: he taught you to poke and stomp with iron skewers, as if by poking and stomping you can protect yourself from an evil person! It was necessary to hire a monsieur and spend extra money!”
But who took the trouble to notify my father about my behavior? General? But he didn't seem to care much about me; and Ivan Kuzmich did not consider it necessary to report on my fight. I was at a loss. My suspicions settled on Shvabrin. He alone had the benefit of denunciation, the consequence of which could have been my removal from the fortress and a break with the commandant’s family. I went to announce everything to Marya Ivanovna. She met me on the porch. “What happened to you? – she said when she saw me. “How pale you are!” - "Everything is over!" - I answered and gave her my father’s letter. She turned pale in turn. Having read it, she returned the letter to me with a trembling hand and said in a trembling voice: “Apparently, I am not destined... Your relatives do not want me into their family. Let the Lord's will be in everything! God knows better than we do what we need. There is nothing to do, Pyotr Andreich; At least be happy..." - "This won't happen! - I cried, grabbing her hand, - you love me; I'm ready for anything. Let's go, let's throw ourselves at the feet of your parents; they are simple people, not hard-hearted and proud... They will bless us; we will get married... and then, over time, I am sure, we will beg my father; mother will be for us; he will forgive me...” “No, Pyotr Andreich,” answered Masha, “I will not marry you without the blessing of your parents. Without their blessing you will not be happy. Let us submit to the will of God. If you find yourself a betrothed, if you fall in love with another, God be with you, Pyotr Andreich; and I am for both of you...” Then she began to cry and left me; I wanted to follow her into the room, but I felt that I was unable to control myself, and I returned home.
I was sitting immersed in deep thought, when suddenly Savelich interrupted my thoughts. “Here, sir,” he said, handing me a sheet of paper covered in writing, “see if I’m an informer on my master and if I’m trying to confuse my son with his father.” I took the paper from his hands: it was Savelich’s response to the letter he had received. Here it is word by word:
“Sovereign Andrei Petrovich,
our merciful father!
I received your gracious writing, in which you deign to be angry with me, your servant, that I am ashamed of not fulfilling the master’s orders, but I, not an old dog, but your faithful servant, obey the master’s orders and have always served you diligently and lived to see gray hair I didn’t write anything to you about Pyotr Andreich’s wound, so as not to scare you unnecessarily, and, I hear, the lady, our mother Avdotya Vasilyevna, already fell ill with fright, and I will pray to God for her health. And Pyotr Andreich was wounded under the right shoulder, in the chest right under the bone, one and a half inches deep, and he lay in the commandant’s house, where we brought him from the shore, and he was treated by the local barber Stepan Paramonov; and now Pyotr Andreich, thank God, is healthy, and there is nothing but good things to write about him. The commanders are heard to be pleased with him; and to Vasilisa Yegorovna he is like his own son. And the fact that such an accident happened to him is not a reproach for the fellow: the horse has four legs, but it stumbles. And you deign to write that you will send me to herd pigs, and that is your boyar will. For this I bow slavishly.
Your faithful servant
Arkhip Savelyev."
I couldn’t help but smile several times while reading the good old man’s letter. I was unable to answer the priest; and to calm my mother down, Savelich’s letter seemed sufficient to me.
Since then my position has changed. Marya Ivanovna hardly spoke to me and tried in every possible way to avoid me. The commandant's house became hateful to me. Little by little I learned to sit alone at home. At first Vasilisa Egorovna blamed me for this; but, seeing my stubbornness, she left me alone. I saw Ivan Kuzmich only when the service required it. I met Shvabrin rarely and reluctantly, especially since I noticed in him a hidden hostility towards myself, which confirmed my suspicions. My life has become unbearable to me. I fell into a gloomy reverie, fueled by loneliness and inaction. My love flared up in solitude and hour by hour it became more painful for me. I lost the desire for reading and literature. My spirit fell. I was afraid of either going crazy or falling into debauchery. Unexpected events that had an important impact on my whole life suddenly gave my soul a strong and beneficial shock.
