Alexéi Petróvitch was touched; he walked agitatedly several times up and down the tent; then seated himself, and continued--"Never, in spite of all this, never has it been so difficult to me to punish as this day. He who, like me, has lived much among the Asiatics, ceases to trust in Lavater, and places no more confidence in a handsome face than in a letter of recommendation; but the look, the expression, the demeanour of this Ammalát, have produced on me an unusual impression. I am sorry for him." "A generous heart," said I, "is a better oracle than reason." "The heart of a conscientious man, my dear friend, ought to be under the command of reason. I certainly _can_ pardon Ammalát, but I _ought_ to punish him. Daghestán is still filled with the enemies of Russia, notwithstanding their assurances of submission; even Tarki is ready to revolt at the first movement in the mountains: we must rivet their chains by punishment, and show the Tartars that no birth can screen the guilty--that all are equal in the sight of the Russian law. If I pardon Ammalát, all his relations will begin to boast that Yermóloff is afraid of the Shamkhál." I remarked, that indulgence shown to so extensive a clan would have a good effect on the country--in particular the Shamkhál. "The Shamkhal is an Asiatic," interrupted Alexéi Petróvitch; "he would be delighted that this heir to the Shamkhalát should be sent to the Elysian fields. Besides, I care very little to guess or gratify the wishes of his kinsmen." I saw that the commander-in-chief began to waver, and I urged him more pressingly. "Let me serve for three years," said I; "do not give me leave of absence this year--only have mercy on this young man. He is young, and Russia may find in him a faithful servant. Generosity is never thrown away." Alexéi Petróvitch shook his head. "I have made many ungrateful," said he, "already; but be it so. I pardon him, and not by halves--that is not my way. I thank you for having helped me to be merciful, not to say weak. Only remember my words: You wish to take him to yourself--do not trust him; do not warm a serpent in your bosom." I was so delighted with my success, that, hastily quitting the commander-in-chief, I ran to the tent in which Ammalát Bek was confined. Three sentinels were guarding him; a lantern was burning in the midst. I entered; the prisoner was lying wrapped up in his boúrka, and tears were sparkling on his face. He did not hear my entrance, so profoundly was he buried in thought. To whom is it pleasant to part with life? I was rejoiced that I brought comfort to him at so melancholy a moment. "Ammalát," said I, "Allah is great, and the Sardár is merciful; he has granted you your life!"