LGOV
the gun went off, and I lost half my chin, and the first finger of my right hand.'
We reached Lgov. Vladimir and Yermolaï had both decided that we could not shoot without a boat.
'Sutchok (i.e. the twig) has a punt,' observed Vladimir, 'but I don't know where he has hidden it. We must go to him.'
'To whom?' I asked.
'The man lives here; Sutchok is his nickname.'
Vladimir went with Yermolaï to Sutchok's. I told them I would wait for them at the church. While I was looking at the tombstones in the churchyard, I stumbled upon a blackened, four-cornered urn with the following inscription, on one side in French: 'Ci-git Theophile-Henri, Vicomte de Blangy'; on the next; 'Under this stone is laid the body of a French subject. Count Blangy; born 1737, died 1799, in the 62nd year of his age': on the third, 'Peace to his ashes': and on the fourth:—
'Under this stone there lies from France an emigrant.
Of high descent was he, and also of talent.
A wife and kindred murdered he bewailed,
And left his land by tyrants cruel assailed;
The friendly shores of Russia he attained,
And hospitable shelter here he gained;
Children he taught; their parents' cares allayed:
Here, by God's will, in peace he has been laid.'
The approach of Yermolaï with Vladimir and
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