That same night some peasants found a deserted carriage on the highway, near Kherson, and were soon satisfied on examining it, that a crime had been committed in it. Several pieces of silver coin were scattered in the straw, as if some one had forgotten them there in his haste, and copious marks of blood were discernible on the ground and in the carriage. These facts were communicated to the police, inquiries were instituted, and the courier's body, with a deep gash in the head, was found in a ditch two or three versts from the station. The driver had disappeared, and the postmaster, an unfortunate Jew, who was perhaps innocent of all participation in the crime, was immediately taken to prison. Such was the state of the case when we arrived at the station and found it all in confusion, and filled with Cossacks.
This tragic event threw the whole country into agitation, but it was not until six weeks afterwards that the police at last succeeded in arresting the perpetrator of the deed, in consequence of quite new information, which gave a still stranger complexion to the whole story. By the murderer's own statement, it appeared that he belonged to a family of shopkeepers, and that he had given up his business only to execute a long cherished project. Some months before the murder he had gone into the Crimea, where he had taken pains to conceal his identity and baffle any attempt to track his steps, by letting his beard grow, adopting the habits and appearance of a mujik, and frequently changing his place of abode. When he thought his measures complete in this respect, he went and hired himself as postillion to the Jew, who kept the post-station before mentioned. He had been waiting more than a month for a favourable opportunity, when the unfortunate courier, who was his victim, arrived. He confessed he had hesitated for some moments before committing the murder, not from horror of the deed itself, but because he recognised in the courier an old companion of his boyhood. Twice, perceiving that the man was asleep, he had left his seat and got up behind the carriage with the intention of knocking him on the head; but twice his courage failed him; the third time, however, he drew the courier's own sabre and cleft his skull with it at a blow. Having secured the valise, he threw the corpse into a ditch, and continued his journey to within a short distance of Kherson, where he left the kibitka, changed his dress, cut off his beard, and then entered the city on foot. His family received him without the least suspicion, never doubting but that he came straight from the Crimea, and for more than six weeks he lived quite at his ease, making like every body else numberless conjectures respecting the event which was the constant theme of conversation. Meanwhile, several persons having been struck by the resemblance of his features to those of the postillion who had disappeared, they put the police on the alert, and he was arrested just as he was setting out for Bessarabia. He was condemned to a hundred strokes of the knout, and the postmaster was sent to Siberia. The children of the latter were enrolled as soldiers, and all he was worth became the booty of the police.
With such penal laws, Russia has little to fear from malefactors. Notwithstanding its vast extent and its thinly scattered population, the traveller is safer there than in any other country. But this state of things is to be ascribed rather to the political situation of the people, than to the strict administration of the police, and it is easy to conceive that in a country, in which there are none but slaves bound to the soil, highway robberies, generally speaking, are morally impossible, because they can scarcely ever yield any gain to their authors. There existed, nevertheless, in Bessarabia, from 1832 to 1836, a very formidable gang of robbers, of which the police found it extremely difficult to rid the country. The captain, of whom a thousand extraordinary tales are told, was a revolted slave, unconsciously playing the part of Fra Diavolo, in a corner of Russia. He waged war not against individuals, but against society. It is alleged, that he never killed any one, and that many a peasant found with him an asylum and protection. He was a daring fellow, beloved by his gang, and a merciless plunderer of landlords, and above all of Jews. It was not until the close of 1836 that he was taken, through the treachery of a girl he was attached to, who betrayed him to the officers of justice. He died under the knout; the death of their leader dispersed his gang, and they fell one by one into the hands of the police.