My heart, which was beating so loyally for the great empress then ruling over us, suddenly sank. I read the newspaper, and became convinced that the mulla was right. In Paris first, then in Germany, and afterwards in Venice, a person had appeared calling herself “Elizabeth, Princess of all the Russias.” At the time of writing, this adventuress was preparing to go to the Sultan, to ask him to aid her with an army then encamped on the banks of the Danube in enforcing her claims. The mulla remained with me a little longer, and then went out, casting a side glance at me as he left the room. The news which I had just heard troubled me very much. “How so?” thought I. “Is it not enough that fate sent us the horrible insurrection of Pougachoff?” of which I heard in my prison, “and then the Turks? Are we now to be troubled with this pretender? The former burnt and desolated the whole Po-Volga;[9] this one wants to disturb the whole of the south.” I was quite beside myself, and strode from corner to corner of my cell. In my anger, I went up to my window, seized hold of the grating, and shook it with all my might. I was ready to tear it with my teeth. “Oh! for wings! for wings!” I cried to God. I would have flown to the fleet, told them everything, and warned Orloff, who was so devoted to the empress.… My prayers were answered in a most marvellous manner. Never shall I forget it, though I live for a century. Devising a hundred plans for escape, my first idea was to prepare some kind of key to loosen my chains. On an earthenware pot I succeeded in sharpening part of an old nail (upon which I used to hang my clothes, and which I had taken from the wall), and, after much painstaking, fashioned it into a key. It is impossible to describe my joy when, for the first night, I took off my chains and went to bed without them. Next morning I again fettered myself, and carefully hid the key in a crevice in the wall. My plan was this:--after having very quickly loosened my chains, I would kill the renegade mulla with them, and run away from the prison without being seen. But where? Thus I planned; but God, who holds our hearts in His hand, delivered me from this sin. The mulla continued to visit me and to drink the wine, which through his intercession had been provided for me in abundance. At last my chance came. Having chosen an evening, I decided upon telling the mulla that, convinced by his wise teaching, I had resolved to embrace the Mohammedan faith. He was transported with delight, and in his joy partook so heartily of the wine as to become intoxicated and begin to doze. I kept refilling his glass. “No,” he repeated continually, “I cannot. I shall miss the prayers; I shall be denounced.” But I again filled the glass, and he, blinking at me knowingly, again emptied it, threw himself on the floor, and beginning to hum a Bulgarian song, was soon fast asleep. We were both about the same height; my beard, which