170 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 



[It was so. Petchorin's passion was beginning to 

 cool, and Bela was growing unhappy. One day, 

 when Petchorin was away hunting, she walked out 

 with the captain on the ramparts.] 



Our fort stood on high ground, and the view from 

 the ramparts was very fine. On the one side was an 

 open tract, bounded by ravines, beyond which was a 

 wood, stretching up to the crest of the mountain ; 

 here and there hamlets were seen smoking, and horses 

 grazing. On the other side ran a small stream scat- 

 tering its spray over the thick copse that clothed a 

 rocky hill, an offshoot from the main chain of the Cau- 

 casus. We sat on the angle of a bastion, so that we 

 had a full view on both sides. Suddenly I saw a 

 man ride out of the wood on a grey horse. He came 

 towards us, stopped on the other side of the brook, 

 and began to make his horse caper about as if he 

 was mad. ' What the deuce is that ? ' said I. 

 ' Look yonder, Bela, your eyes are younger than 

 mine ; what sort of a zhighit is that ? For whose 

 amusement is he playing such antics ?' 



She looked towards the horseman, and cried out, 

 * It is Kasbitch ! And that is my father's horse !' she 

 said, grasping my hand. She trembled like an aspen 

 leaf, and her eyes flashed. ' Ha ! the robber !' cried 

 I, and, looking more closely, I saw sure enough it was 



