168 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 



forgive her for it ! And indeed for that matter, 

 who am I, that she should think of me in her last 

 moments ? 



L. How did Petchorin bear it ? 



M. Petchorin was a long time ill ; he wasted 

 away, poor fellow : we never spoke again of Bela, 

 from that time forth. Three months afterwards he 

 was transferred to another regiment, and left Georgia ; 

 we have never met since. 



L. Did you never hear what became afterwards 

 of Kasbitch ? 



M. Of Kasbitch ? I really do not know. I am 

 told indeed that there is among the Shapsooks, on our 

 right flank, a certain Kasbitch, a wild daredevil, that 

 rides at a foot-pace in his red beshmet, in front of 

 our artillery, and bows politely when a cannon ball 

 whizzes past him ; but it can hardly be the same. 



