CHAPTER XII
“But enough! It is time for me to pray,” said Hadji Murad drawing from an inner breast-pocket of his Circassian coat Vorontsov’s repeater watch and carefully pressing the spring. The repeater struck twelve and a quarter. Hadji Murad listened with his head on one side, repressing a childlike smile.
“Kunak Vorontsov’s present,” he said, smiling.
“It is a good watch,” said Loris-Melikov. “Well then, to thou and pray, and I will wait.”
“Yakshi. Very well,” said Hadji Murad and went to his bedroom.
Left by himself, Loris-Melikov wrote down in his notebook the chief things Hadji Murad had related, and then lighting a cigarette began to pace up and down the room. On reaching the door opposite the bedroom he heard animated voices speaking rapidly in Tartar. He guessed that the spe
