Chapter XVIII…

Chapter XVIII

Kmita, however, did not start that day, nor the following, for threatening news began to arrive at Kyedani from every side. Toward evening a courier rushed in with tidings that Mirski's squadron and Stankyevich's also were marching to the hetman's residence, prepared to demand with armed hand their colonels; that there was terrible agitation among them, and that the officers had sent deputations to all the squadrons posted near Kyedani, and farther on to Podlyasye and Zabludovo, with news of the hetman's treason, and with a summons to unite in defence of the country. From this it was easy to see that multitudes of nobles would fly to the insurgent squadrons and form an important force, which it would be difficult to resist in unfortified Kyedani, especially since not every regiment which Radzivill had at hand could be relied on with certainty.

This changed all the calculations and plans of the hetman; but instead of weakening, it seemed to rouse his courage still more. He determined to move at the head of his faithful Scottish regiments, cavalry and artillery, against the insurgents, and stamp out the fire at its birth. He knew that the soldiers without colonels were simply an unorganized throng, that would scatter from terror at the mere name of the hetman. He determined also not to spare blood, and to terrify with examples the whole army, all the nobles, nay, all Lithuania, so that it should not dare even to tremble beneath his iron hand. Everything that he had planned must be accomplished, and accomplished with his own forces.

That very day a number of foreign officers went to Prussia to make new enlistments, and Kyedani was swarming with armed men. The Scottish regiments, the foreign cavalry, the dragoons of Myeleshko and Kharlamp, with the "fire people" of Pan Korf, were preparing for the campaign. The prince's haiduks, his servants, and the citizens of Kyedani were obliged to increase the military forces; and it was determined to hasten the transfer of the prisoners to Birji, where it would be safer to keep them than in exposed Kyedani. The prince hoped with reason that to transport the colonels to a remote fortress, in which, according to treaty, there must be a Swedish garrison already, would destroy in the minds of the rebellious soldiers all hope of rescuing them, and deprive the rebellion itself of every basis. Pan Zagloba, the Skshetuskis, and Volodyovski were to share the lot of the others.

It was already evening when an officer with lantern in hand entered the cellar in which they were, and said,--

"Prepare, gentlemen, to follow me."

"Whither?" asked Zagloba, with a voice of alarm.

"That will be seen. Hurry, hurry!"

"We come."

They went out. In the corridor Scottish soldiers armed with muskets surrounded them. Zagloba grew more and more alarmed.

"Still they would not lead us to death without a priest, without confession," whispered he in the ear of Volodyovski. Then he turned to the officer; "What is your rank, I pray?"

"What is my rank to you?"

"I have many relatives in Lithuania, and it is pleasant to know with whom one has to do."

"No time for inquiries, but he is a fool who is ashamed of his name. I am Roh Kovalski, if you wish to know."

"That is an honorable stock! The men are good soldiers, the women are virtuous. My grandmother was a Kovalski, but she made an orphan of me before I came to the world. Are you from the Vyerush, or the Korab Kovalskis?"

"Do you want to examine me as a witness, in the night?"

"Oh, I do this because you are surely a relative of mine, for we have the same build. You have large bones and shoulders, just like mine, and I got my form from my grandmother."

"Well, we can talk about that on the road. We shall have time!"

"On the road?" said Zagloba; and a great weight fell from his breast. He breathed like a bellows, and gained courage at once.

"Pan Michael," whispered he, "did I not say that they would not cut our heads off?"

Meanwhile they had reached the courtyard. Night had fallen completely. In places red torches were burning or lanterns gleaming, throwing an uncertain light on groups of soldiers, horse and foot, of various arms. The whole court was crowded with troops. Clearly they were ready to march, for a great movement was manifest on all sides. Here and there in the darkness gleamed lances and gun-barrels; horses' hoofs clattered on the pavement; single horsemen hurried between the squadrons,--undoubtedly officers giving commands.

Kovalski stopped the convoy and the prisoners before an enormous wagon drawn by four horses, and having a box made as it were of ladders.

"Take your places, gentlemen," said he.

"Some one is sitting there already," said Zagloba, clambering up. "But our packs?"

"They are under the straw," said Kovalski; "hurry, hurry!"

"But who are sitting here?" asked Zagloba, looking at dark figures stretched on the straw.

"Mirski, Stankyevich, Oskyerko," answered voices.

"Volodyovski, Yan and Stanislav Skshetuski, and Zagloba," answered our knights.

"With the forehead, with the forehead!"

"With the forehead! We are travelling in honorable company. And whither are they taking us, do you know, gentlemen?"

"You are going to Birji," said Kovalski.

When he said this, he gave the command. A convoy of fifty dragoons surrounded the wagon and moved on. The prisoners began to converse in a low voice.

"They will give us to the Swedes," said Mirski; "I expected that."

"I would rather sit among enemies than traitors," answered Stankyevich.

"And I would rather have a bullet in my forehead," said Volodyovski, "than sit with folded arms during such an unfortunate war."

"Do not blaspheme, Michael," answered Zagloba, "for from the wagon, should a convenient moment come, you may give a plunge, and from Birji also; but it is hard to escape with a bullet in the forehead. I foresaw that that traitor would not dare to put bullets in our heads."

"Is there a thing which Radzivill does not dare to do?" asked Mirski. "It is clear that you have come from afar and know him not. On whomsoever he has sworn vengeance, that man is as good as in the grave; and I remember no instance of his forgiving any one the slightest offence."

"But still he did not dare to raise hands on me!" answered Zagloba. "Who knows if you have not to thank me for your lives?"

"And how?"

"Because the Khan loves me wonderfully, for I discovered a conspiracy against his life when I was a captive in the Crimea. And our gracious king, Yan Kazimir, loves me too. Radzivill, the son of a such a one, did not wish to break with two such potentates; for they might reach him, even in Lithuania."

"Ah! what are you saying? He hates the king as the devil does holy water, and would be still more envenomed against you did he know you to be a confidant of the king," observed Stankyevich.

"I think this," said Oskyerko. "To avoid odium the hetman would not stain himself with our blood, but I could swear that this officer is bearing an order to the Swedes in Birji to shoot us on the spot."

"Oi!" exclaimed Zagloba.

They were silent for a moment; meanwhile the wagon had rolled into the square of Kyedani. The town was sleeping, there were no lights in the windows, only the dogs before the houses snapped angrily at the passing party.

"Well," said Zagloba, "we have gained time anyhow, and perhaps a chance will serve us, and some stratagem may come to my head." Here he turned to the old colonels: "Gentlemen, you know me little, but ask my comrades about the hot places in which I have been, and from which I have always escaped. Tell me, what kind of officer is this who commands the convoy? Could he be persuaded not to adhere to a traitor, but take the side of his country and join us?"

"That is Roh Kovalski of the Korab Kovalskis," answered Oskyerko.

"I know him. You might as well persuade his horse as him; for as God is bountiful I know not which is more stupid."

"But why did they make him officer?"

"He carried the banner with Myeleshko's dragoons; for this no wit is needed. But he was made officer because his fist pleased the prince; for he breaks horseshoes, wrestles with tame bears, and the man has not yet been discovered whom he cannot bring to the earth."

"Has he such strength?"

"That he has such strength is true; but were his superior to order him to batter down a wall with his head he would fall to battering it without a moment's delay. He is ordered to take us to Birji, and he will take us, even if the earth had to sink."

"'Pon my word," said Zagloba, who listened to this conversation with great attention, "he is a resolute fellow."

"Yes, but with him resolution consists in stupidity alone. When he has time, and is not eating, he is sleeping. It is an astonishing thing, which you will not believe; but once he slept forty-eight hours in the barracks, and yawned when they dragged him from the plank bed."

"This officer pleases me greatly," said Zagloba, "for I always like to know with whom I have to do."

When he had said this he turned to Kovalski. "But come this way, please!" cried he, in a patronizing tone.

"What is it?" asked Kovalski, turning his horse.

"Have you gorailka?"

"I have."

"Give it!"

"How give it?"

"You know, gracious Kovalski, if it were not permitted you would have had an order not to give it; but since you have not an order, give it."

"Ah," said Kovalski, astonished, "as I live! but that is like forcing."

"Forcing or not forcing, it is permitted you; and it is proper to assist a blood relative and an older man, who, if he had married your mother, might have been your father as easily as wink."

"What relative are you of mine?"

"I am, for there are two stocks of Kovalskis,--they who use the seal of Vyerush and have a goat painted on their shield, with upraised hind leg; and they who have on their shield the ship in which their ancestor Kovalski sailed from England across the sea to Poland; and these are my relatives, through my grandmother, and this is why I, too, have the ship on my shield."

"As God lives! you are my relative."

"Are you a Korab (ship)?"

"A Korab."

"My own blood, as God is dear to me!" cried Zagloba. "It is lucky that we have met, for in very truth I have come here to Lithuania to see the Kovalskis; and though I am in bonds while you are on horseback and in freedom I would gladly embrace you, for what is one's own is one's own."

"How can I help you? They commanded me to take you to Birji; I will take you. Blood is blood, but service is service."

"Call me Uncle," said Zagloba.

"Here is gorailka for you, Uncle," said Kovalski; "I can do that much."

Zagloba took the flask gladly, and drank to his liking. Soon a pleasant warmth spread through his members. It began to grow clear in his brain, and his mind became bright.

"Come down from the horse," said he to Kovalski, "and sit here a short time in the wagon; let us talk, for I should like to have you say something about our family. I respect service, but this too is permitted."

Kovalski did not answer for a while.

"This was not forbidden," said he, at last.

Soon after he was sitting at the side of Zagloba, and stretched himself gladly on the straw with which the wagon was filled.

Zagloba embraced him heartily.

"How is the health of thy old father?--God help me,--I've forgotten his name."

"Roh, also."

"That's right, that's right. Roh begat Roh,--that is according to command. You must call your son Roh as well, so that every hoopoo may have his topknot. But are you married?"

"Of course! I am Kovalski, and here is Pani Kovalski; I don't want any other."

So saying, the young officer raised to the eyes of Zagloba the hilt of a heavy dragoon sabre, and repeated, "I don't want any other."

"Proper!" said Zagloba. "Roh, son of Roh, you are greatly pleasing to me. A soldier is best accommodated when he has no wife save such a one, and I will say more,--she will be a widow before you will be a widower. The only pity is that you cannot have young Rohs by her, for I see that you are a keen cavalier, and it would be a sin were such a stock to die out."

"Oh, no fear of that!" said Kovalski; "there are six brothers of us."

"And all Rohs?"

"Does Uncle know that if not the first, then the second, has to be Roh?--for Roh is our special patron."

"Let us drink again."

"Very well."

Zagloba raised the bottle; he did not drink all, however, but gave it to the officer and said, "To the bottom, to the bottom! It is a pity that I cannot see you," continued he. "The night is so dark that you might hit a man in the face, you would not know your own fingers by sight. But hear me, Roh, where was that army going from Kyedani when we drove out?"

"Against the insurgents."

"The Most High God knows who is insurgent,--you or they."

"I an insurgent? How could that be? I do what my hetman commands."

"But the hetman does not do what the king commands, for surely the king did not command him to join the Swedes. Would you not rather slay the Swedes than give me, your relative, into their hands?"

"I might; but for every command there is obedience."

"And Pani Kovalski would rather slay Swedes; I know her. Speaking between us, the hetman has rebelled against the king and the country. Don't say this to any one, but it is so; and those who serve him are rebels too."

"It is not proper for me to hear this. The hetman has his superior, and I have mine; what is his own belongs to the hetman, and God would punish me if I were to oppose him. That is an unheard of thing."

"You speak honestly; but think, Roh, if you were to happen into the hands of those insurgents, I should be free, and it would be no fault of yours, for nec Hercules contra plures!--I do not know where those squadrons are, but you must know, and you see we might turn toward them a little."

"How is that?"

"As if we went by chance to them? It would not be your fault if they rescued us. You would not have me on your conscience,--and to have a relative on a man's conscience, believe me, is a terrible burden."

"Oh Uncle, what are you saying! As God lives, I will leave the wagon and sit on my horse. It is not I who will have uncle on my conscience, but the hetman. While I live, nothing will come of this talk."

"Nothing is nothing!" said Zagloba; "I prefer that you speak sincerely, though I was your uncle before Radzivill was your hetman. And do you know, Roh, what an uncle is?"

"An uncle is an uncle."

"You have calculated very adroitly; but when a man has no father, the Scriptures say that he must obey his uncle. The power of an uncle is as that of a father, which it is a sin to resist. For consider even this, that whoever marries may easily become a father; but in your uncle flows the same blood as in your mother. I am not in truth the brother of your mother, but my grandmother must have been your grandmother's aunt. Know then that the authority of several generations rests in me; for like everything else in the world we are mortal, therefore authority passes from one of us to another, and neither the hetman nor the king can ignore it, nor force any one to oppose it. It is sacred! Has the full hetman or even the grand hetman the right to command not merely a noble or an officer, but any kind of camp-follower, to rise up against his father, his mother, his grandfather, or his blind old grandmother? Answer me that, Roh. Has he the right?"

"What?" asked Kovalski, with a sleepy voice.

"Against his blind old grandmother!" repeated Zagloba. "Who in that case would be willing to marry and beget children, or wait for grandchildren? Answer me that, Roh."

"I am Kovalski, and this is Pani Kovalski," said the still sleepier officer.

"If it is your wish, let it be so," answered Zagloba. "Better indeed that you have no children, there will be fewer fools to storm around in the world. Is it not true, Roh?"

Zagloba held down his ear, but heard nothing,--no answer now.

"Roh! Roh!" called he, in a low voice.

Kovalski was sleeping like a dead man.

"Are you sleeping?" muttered Zagloba. "Wait a bit--I will take this iron pot off your head, for it is of no use to you. This cloak is too tight at the throat; it might cause apoplexy. What sort of relative were I, did I not save you?"

Here Zagloba's hands began to move lightly about the head and neck of Kovalski. In the wagon all were in a deep sleep; the soldiers too nodded in the saddles; some in front were singing in a low voice, while looking out the road carefully,--for the night, though not rainy, was exceedingly dark.

After a time, however, the soldier leading Kovalski's horse behind the wagon saw in the darkness the cloak and bright helmet of his officer. Kovalski, without stopping the wagon, slipped out and nodded to give him the horse. In a moment he mounted.

"Pan Commandant, where shall we stop to feed?" asked the sergeant, approaching him.

Pan Roh gave no word in reply, but moving forward passed slowly those riding in front and vanished in the darkness. Soon there came to the ears of the dragoons the quick tramp of a horse.

"The commandant has gone at a gallop!" said they to one another. "Surely he wants to look around to see if there is some public house near by. It is time to feed the horses,--time."

A half-hour passed, an hour, two hours, and Pan Kovalski seemed to be ahead all the time, for somehow he was not visible. The horses grew very tired, especially those drawing the wagon, and began to drag on slowly. The stars were leaving the sky.

"Gallop to the commandant," said the sergeant; "tell him the horses are barely able to drag along, and the wagon horses are tired."

One of the soldiers moved ahead, but after an hour returned alone.

"There is neither trace nor ashes of the commandant," said the soldier; "he must have ridden five miles ahead."

The soldiers began to grumble.

"It is well for him he slept through the day, and just now on the wagon; but do thou, soldier, pound through the night with the last breath of thy horse and thyself!"

"There is an inn eighty rods distant," said the soldier who had ridden ahead. "I thought to find him there, but no! I listened, trying to hear the horse--Nothing to be heard. The devil knows where he is!"

"We will stop at the inn anyhow," said the sergeant. "We must let the horses rest."

In fact they halted before the inn. The soldiers dismounted. Some went to knock at the door; others untied bundles of hay, hanging at the saddles, to feed the horses even from their hands.

The prisoners woke when the movement of the wagon ceased.

"But where are we going?" asked old Stankyevich.

"I cannot tell in the night," answered Volodyovski, "especially as we are not going to Upita."

"But does not the load from Kyedani to Birji lie through Upita?" asked Pan Yan.

"It does. But in Upita is my squadron, which clearly the prince fears may resist, therefore he ordered Kovalski to take another road. Just outside Kyedani we turned to Dalnovo and Kroki; from the second place we shall go surely through Beysagoli and Shavli. It is a little out of the way, but Upita and Ponyevyej will remain at the right. On this road there are no squadrons, for all that were there were brought to Kyedani, so as to have them at hand."

"But Pan Zagloba," said Stankyevich, "instead of thinking of stratagems, as he promised, is sleeping sweetly, and snoring."

"Let him sleep. It is clear that he was wearied from talk with that stupid commandant, relationship with whom he confessed. It is evident that he wanted to capture him, but with no result. Whoso would not leave Radzivill for his country, will surely not leave him for a distant relative."

"Are they really relatives?" asked Oskyerko.

"They? They are as much relatives as you and I," answered Volodyovski. "When Zagloba spoke of their common escutcheon, I knew it was not true, for I know well that his is called wczele (in the forehead)."

"And where is Pan Kovalski?"

"He must be with the soldiers or in the inn."

"I should like to ask him to let me sit on some soldier's horse," said Mirski, "for my bones are benumbed."

"He will not grant that," said Stankyevich; "for the night is dark, you could easily put spurs to the horse, and be off. Who could overtake?"

"I will give him my word of honor not to attempt escape; besides, dawn will begin directly."

"Soldier, where is the commandant?" asked Volodyovski of a dragoon standing near.

"Who knows?"

"How, who knows? When I ask thee to call him, call him."

"We know not ourselves, Colonel, where he is," said the dragoon. "Since he crawled out of the wagon and rode ahead, he has not come back."

"Tell him when he comes that we would speak with him."

"As the Colonel wishes," answered the soldier.

The prisoners were silent. From time to time only loud yawning was heard on the wagon; the horses were chewing hay at one side. The soldiers around the wagon, resting on the saddles, were dozing; others talked in a low voice, or refreshed themselves each with what he had, for it turned out that the inn was deserted and tenantless.

The night had begun to grow pale. On its eastern side the dark background of the sky was becoming slightly gray; the stars, going out gradually, twinkled with an uncertain, failing light. Then the roof of the inn became hoary; the trees growing near it were edged with silver. The horses and men seemed to rise out of the shade. After a while it was possible to distinguish faces, and the yellow color of the cloaks. The helmets began to reflect the morning gleam.

Volodyovski opened his arms and stretched himself, yawning from ear to ear; then he looked at the sleeping Zagloba. All at once he threw back his arms and shouted,--

"May the bullets strike him! In God's name! Gracious gentlemen, look here!"

"What has happened?" asked the colonels, opening their eyes.

"Look here, look here!" said Volodyovski, pointing at the sleeping form.

The prisoners turned their glances in the direction indicated, and amazement was reflected on every face. Under the burka, and in the cap of Zagloba, slept, with the sleep of the just, Pan Roh Kovalski; but Zagloba was not in the wagon.

"He has escaped, as God is dear to me!" said the astonished Mirski, looking around on every side, as if he did not yet believe his own eyes.

"Oh, he is a finished rogue! May the hangman--" cried Stankyevich.

"He took the helmet and yellow cloak of that fool, and escaped on his horse."

"Vanished as if he had dropped into water."

"He said he would get away by stratagem."

"They will never see him again!"

"Gentlemen," said Volodyovski, with delight, "you know not that man; and I swear to you to-day that he will rescue us yet,--I know not how, when, with what means,--but I swear that he will."

"God grant it! One cannot believe his eyesight," said Pan Stanislav.

The soldiers now saw what had happened. An uproar rose among them. One crowded ahead of the other to the wagon, stared at their commandant, dressed in a camel's hair burka and lynx-skin cap, and sleeping soundly.

The sergeant began to shake him without ceremony. "Commandant! commandant!"

"I am Kovalski, and this is Pani Kovalski," muttered Roh.

"Commandant, a prisoner has fled."

Kovalski sat up in the wagon and opened his eyes. "What?"

"A prisoner has fled,--that bulky noble who was talking with the commandant."

The officer came to his senses. "Impossible!" cried he, with terrified voice. "How was it? What happened? How did he escape?"

"In the helmet and cloak of the commandant; the soldiers did not know him, the night was dark."

"Where is my horse?" cried Kovalski.

"The horse is gone. The noble fled on him."

"On my horse?"

"Yes."

Kovalski seized himself by the head. "Jesus of Nazareth! King of the Jews!"

After a while he shouted, "Give here that dog-faith, that son of a such a one who gave him the horse!"

"Pan Commandant, the soldier is not to blame. The night was dark, you might have struck a man in the face, and he took your helmet and cloak; rode near me, and I did not know him. If your grace had not sat in the wagon, he could not have done it."

"Kill me, kill me!" cried the unfortunate officer.

"What is to be done?"

"Kill him, catch him!"

"That cannot be done in any way. He is on your horse,--the best horse; ours are terribly road-weary. He fled at the first cock-crow; we cannot overtake him."

"Hunt for a wind in the field!" said Stankyevich.

Kovalski, in a rage, turned to the prisoners. "You helped him to escape! I will--"

Here he balled his gigantic fist, and began to approach them. Then Mirski said threateningly, "Shout not, and remember that you are speaking to superiors."

Kovalski quivered, and straightened himself involuntarily; for really his dignity in presence of such a Mirski was nothing, and all his prisoners were a head above him in rank and significance.

Stankyevich added: "If you have been commanded to take us, take us; but raise no voice, for to-morrow you may be under the command of any one of us."

Kovalski stared and was silent.

"There is no doubt you have fooled away your head, Pan Roh," said Oskyerko. "To say, as you do, that we helped him is nonsense; for, to begin with, we were sleeping, just as you were, and secondly, each one would have helped himself rather than another. But you have fooled away your head. There is no one to blame here but you. I would be the first to order you shot, since being an officer you fell asleep like a badger, and allowed a prisoner to escape in your own helmet and cloak, nay, on your own horse,--an unheard of thing, such as has not happened since the beginning of the world."

"An old fox has fooled the young man!" said Mirski. "Jesus, Mary! I have not even the sabre!" cried Kovalski.

"Will not the sabre be of use to him?" asked Stankyevich, laughing. "Pan Oskyerko has said well,--you have fooled away your head. You must have had pistols in the holsters too?"

"I had!" said Kovalski, as if out of his mind.

Suddenly he seized his head with both hands: "And the letter of the prince to the commandant of Birji! What shall I, unfortunate man, do now? I am lost for the ages! God give me a bullet in the head!"

"That will not miss you," said Mirski, seriously. "How will you take us to Birji now? What will happen if you say that you have brought us as prisoners, and we, superior in rank, say that you are to be thrown into the dungeon? Whom will they believe? Do you think that the Swedish commandant will detain us for the reason simply that Pan Kovalski will beg him to do so? He will rather believe us, and confine you under ground."

"I am lost!" groaned Kovalski.

"Nonsense!" said Volodyovski.

"What is to be done, Pan Commandant?" asked the sergeant.

"Go to all the devils!" roared Kovalski. "Do I know what to do, where to go? God give thunderbolts to slay thee!"

"Go on, go on to Birji; you will see!" said Mirski.

"Turn back to Kyedani," cried Kovalski.

"If they will not plant you at the wall there and shoot you, may bristles cover me!" said Oskyerko. "How will you appear before the hetman's face? Tfu! Infamy awaits you, and a bullet in the head,--nothing more."

"For I deserve nothing more!" cried the unfortunate man.

"Nonsense, Pan Roh! We alone can save you," said Oskyerko. "You know that we were ready to go to the end of the world with the hetman, and perish. We have shed our blood more than once for the country, and always shed it willingly; but the hetman betrayed the country,--he gave this land to the enemy; he joined with them against our gracious lord, to whom we swore allegiance. Do you think that it came easy to soldiers like us to refuse obedience to a superior, to act against discipline, to resist our own hetman? But whoso to-day is with the hetman is against the king. Whoso to-day is with the hetman is a traitor to the king and the Commonwealth. Therefore we cast down our batons at the feet of the hetman; for virtue, duty, faith, and honor so commanded. And who did it? Was it I alone? No! Pan Mirski, Pan Stankyevich, the best soldiers, the worthiest men. Who remained with the hetman? Disturbers. But why do you not follow men better, wiser, and older than yourself? Do you wish to bring infamy on your name, and be trumpeted forth as a traitor? Enter into yourself; ask your conscience what you should do,--remain a traitor with Radzivill, the traitor, or go with us, who wish to give our last breath for the country, shed the last drop of our blood for it. Would the ground had swallowed us before we refused obedience to the hetman; but would that our souls never escaped hell, if we were to betray the king and the country for the profit of Radzivill!"

This discourse seemed to make a great impression on Kovalski. He stared, opened his mouth, and after a while said, "What do you wish of me, gentlemen?"

"To go with us to the voevoda of Vityebsk, who will fight for the country."

"But when I have an order to take you to Birji?"

"Talk with him," said Mirski.

"We want you to disobey the command,--to leave the hetman, and go with us; do you understand?" said Oskyerko, impatiently.

"Say what you like, but nothing will come of that. I am a soldier; what would I deserve if I left the hetman? It is not my mind, but his; not my will, but his. When he sins he will answer for himself and for me, and it is my dog-duty to obey him. I am a simple man; what I do not effect with my hand, I cannot with my head. But I know this,--it is my duty to obey, and that is the end of it."

"Do what you like!" cried Mirski.

"It is my fault," continued Roh, "that I commanded to return to Kyedani, for I was ordered to go to Birji; but I became a fool through that noble, who, though a relative, did to me what a stranger would not have done. I wish he were not a relative, but he is. He had not God in his heart to take my horse, deprive me of the favor of the prince, and bring punishment on my shoulders. That is the kind of relative he is! But, gentlemen, you will go to Birji, let come what may afterward."

"A pity to lose time, Pan Oskyerko," said Volodyovski.

"Turn again toward Birji!" cried Kovalski to the dragoons.

They turned toward Birji a second time. Pan Roh ordered one of the dragoons to sit in the wagon; then he mounted that man's horse, and rode by the side of the prisoners, repeating for a time, "A relative, and to do such a thing!"

The prisoners, hearing this, though not certain of their fate and seriously troubled, could not refrain from laughter; at last Volodyovski said, "Comfort yourself, Pan Kovalski, for that man has hung on a hook persons not such as you. He surpassed Hmelnitski himself in cunning, and in stratagems no one can equal him."

Kovalski said nothing, but fell away a little from the wagon, fearing ridicule. He was shamefaced in presence of the prisoners and of his own soldiers, and was so troubled that he was pitiful to look at.

Meanwhile the colonels were talking of Zagloba, and of his marvellous escape.

"In truth, 'tis astonishing," said Volodyovski, "that there are not in the world straits, out of which that man could not save himself. When strength and bravery are of no avail, he escapes through stratagem. Other men lose courage when death is hanging over their heads, or they commit themselves to God, waiting for what will happen; but he begins straightway to work with his head, and always thinks out something. He is as brave in need as Achilles, but he prefers to follow Ulysses."

"I would not be his guard, though he were bound with chains," said Stankyevich; "for it is nothing that he will escape, but besides, he will expose a man to ridicule."

"Of course!" said Pan Michael. "Now he will laugh at Kovalski to the end of his life; and God guard a man from coming under his tongue, for there is not a sharper in the Commonwealth. And when he begins, as is his custom, to color his speech, then people are bursting from laughter."

"But you say that in need he can use his sabre?" asked Stankyevich.

"Of course! He slew Burlei at Zbaraj, in view of the whole army."

"Well, God save us!" cried Stankyevich, "I have never seen such a man."

"He has rendered us a great service by his escape," said Oskyerko, "for he took the letters of the hetman, and who knows what was written in them against us? I do not think that the Swedish commandant at Birji will give ear to us, and not to Kovalski. That will not be, for we come as prisoners, and he as commanding the convoy. But certainly they will not know what to do with us. In every case they will not cut off our heads, and that is the main thing."

"I spoke as I did merely to confuse Kovalski completely," said Mirski; "but that they will not cut off our heads, as you say, is no great consolation, God knows. Everything so combines that it would be better not to live; now another war, a civil war, will break out, that will be final ruin. What reason have I, old man, to look on these things?"

"Or I, who remember other times?" said Stankyevich.

"You should not say that, gentlemen; for the mercy of God is greater than the rage of men, and his almighty hand may snatch us from the whirlpool precisely when we least expect."

"Holy are these words," said Pan Yan. "And to us, men from under the standard of the late Prince Yeremi, it is grievous to live now, for we were accustomed to victory; and still one likes to serve the country, if the Lord God would give at last a leader who is not a traitor, but one whom a man might trust with his whole heart and soul."

"Oi! true, true!" said Pan Michael. "A man would fight night and day."

"But I tell you, gentlemen, that this is the greatest despair," said Mirski; "for every one wanders as in darkness, and asks himself what to do, and uncertainty stifles him, like a nightmare. I know not how it is with you, but mental disquiet is rending me. And when I think that I cast my baton at the feet of the hetman, that I was the cause of resistance and mutiny, the remnants of my gray hair stand on my head from terror. So it is! But what is to be done in presence of open treason? Happy are they who do not need to give themselves such questions, and seek for answers in their souls."

"A leader, a leader; may the merciful Lord give a leader!" said Stankyevich, raising his eyes toward heaven.

"Do not men say that the voevoda of Vityebsk is a wonderfully honest man?" asked Pan Stanislav.

"They do," replied Mirski; "but he has not the baton of grand or full hetman, and before the king clothes him with the office of hetman, he can act only on his own account. He will not go to the Swedes, or anywhere else; that is certain."

"Pan Gosyevski, full hetman, is a captive in Kyedani."

"Yes, for he is an honest man," said Oskyerko. "When news of that came to me, I was distressed, and had an immediate foreboding of evil."

Pan Michael fell to thinking, and said after a while: "I was in Warsaw once, and went to the king's palace. Our gracious lord, since he loves soldiers and had praised me for the Berestechko affair, knew me at once and commanded me to come to dinner. At this dinner I saw Pan Charnyetski, as the dinner was specially for him. The king grew a little merry from wine, pressed Charnyetski's head, and said at last: 'Even should the time come in which all will desert me, you will be faithful.' With my own ears I heard that said, as it were with prophetic spirit. Pan Charnyetski, from emotion, was hardly able to speak. He only repeated: 'To the last breath! to the last breath!' And then the king shed tears--"

"Who knows if those were not prophetic words, for the time of disaster had already come," said Mirski.

"Charnyetski is a great soldier," replied Stankyevich. "There are no lips in the Commonwealth which do not repeat his name."

"They say," said Pan Yan, "that the Tartars, who are aiding Revera Pototski against Hmelnitski, are so much in love with Charnyetski that they will not go where he is not with them."

"That is real truth," answered Oskyerko. "I heard that told in Kyedani before the hetman. We were all praising at that time Charnyetski wonderfully, but it was not to the taste of Radzivill, for he frowned and said, 'He is quartermaster of the king, but he might be under-starosta with me at Tykotsin.'"

"Envy, it is clear, was gnawing him."

"It is a well-known fact that an apostate cannot endure the lustre of virtue."

Thus did the captive colonels converse; then their speech was turned again to Zagloba. Volodyovski assured them that aid might be looked for from him, for he was not the man to leave his friends in misfortune.

"I am certain," said he, "that he has fled to Upita, where he will find my men, if they are not yet defeated, or taken by force to Kyedani. With them he will come to rescue us, unless they refuse to come, which I do not expect; for in the squadron are Lauda men chiefly, and they are fond of me."

"But they are old clients of Radzivill," remarked Mirski.

"True; but when they hear of the surrender of Lithuania to the Swedes, the imprisonment of the full hetman and Pan Yudytski, of you and me, it will turn their hearts away greatly from Radzivill. Those are honest nobles; Pan Zagloba will neglect nothing to paint the hetman with soot, and he can do that better than any of us."

"True," said Pan Stanislav; "but meanwhile we shall be in Birji."

"That cannot be, for we are making a circle to avoid Upita, and from Upita the road is direct as if cut with a sickle. Even were they to start a day later, or two days, they could still be in Birji before us, and block our way. We are only going to Shavli now, and from there we shall go to Birji directly; but you must know that it is nearer from Upita to Birji than to Shavli."

"As I live, it is nearer, and the road is better," said Mirski, "for it is a high-road."

"There it is! And we are not yet in Shavli."

Only in the evening did they see the hill called Saltuves-Kalnas, at the foot of which Shavli stands. On the road they saw that disquiet was reigning in all the villages and towns through which they passed. Evidently news of the hetman's desertion to the Swedes had run through all Jmud. Here and there the people asked the soldiers if it were true that the country was to be occupied by Swedes; here and there crowds of peasants were leaving the villages with their wives, children, cattle, and effects, and going to the depths of the forest, with which the whole region was thickly covered. In places the aspect of the peasants was almost threatening, for evidently the dragoons were taken for Swedes. In villages inhabited by nobles they were asked directly who they were and where they were going; and when Kovalski, instead of answering, commanded them to leave the road, it came to shouts and threats to such a degree that muskets levelled for firing were barely sufficient to open a passage.

The highway leading from Kovno through Shavli to Mitava was covered with wagons and carriages, in which were the wives and children of nobles wishing to take refuge from war in estates in Courland. In Shavli itself, which was an appanage of the king, there were no private squadrons of the hetman, or men of the quota; but here the captive colonels saw for the first time a Swedish detachment, composed of twenty-five knights, who had come on a reconnoissance from Birji. Crowds of Jews and citizens were staring at the strangers. The colonels too gazed at them with curiosity, especially Volodyovski, who had never before seen Swedes; hence he examined them eagerly with the desiring eyes with which a wolf looks at a flock of sheep.

Pan Kovalski entered into communication with the officer, declared who he was, where he was going, whom he was conveying, and requested him to join his men to the dragoons, for greater safety on the road. But the officer answered that he had an order to push as far as possible into the depth of the country, so as to be convinced of its condition, therefore he could not return to Birji; but he gave assurance that the road was safe everywhere, for small detachments, sent out from Birji, were moving in all directions,--some were sent even as far as Kyedani. After he had rested till midnight, and fed the horses, which were very tired, Pan Roh moved on his way, turning from Shavli to the east through Yohavishkyele and Posvut toward Birji, so as to reach the direct highway from Upita and Ponyevyej.

"If Zagloba comes to our rescue," said Volodyovski, about daylight, "it will be easiest to take this road, for he could start right at Upita."

"Maybe he is lurking here somewhere," said Pan Stanislav.

"I had hope till I saw the Swedes," said Stankyevich, "but now it strikes me that there is no help for us."

"Zagloba has a head to avoid them or to fool them; and he will be able to do so."

"But he does not know the country."

"The Lauda people know it; for some of them take hemp, wainscots, and pitch to Riga, and there is no lack of such men in my squadron."

"The Swedes must have occupied all the places about Birji."

"Fine soldiers, those whom we saw in Shavli, I must confess," said the little knight, "man for man splendid! Did you notice what well-fed horses they had?"

"Those are Livland horses, very powerful," said Mirski. "Our hussar and armored officers send to Livland for horses, since our beasts are small."

"Tell me of the Swedish infantry!" put in Stankyevich. "Though the cavalry makes a splendid appearance, it is inferior. Whenever one of our squadrons, and especially of the important divisions, rushed on their cavalry, the Swedes did not hold out while you could say 'Our Father' twice."

"You have tried them in old times," said the little knight, "but I have no chance of testing them. I tell you, gentlemen, when I saw them now in Shavli, with their beards yellow as flax, ants began to crawl over my fingers. Ei, the soul would to paradise; but sit thou here in the wagon, and sigh."

The colonels were silent; but evidently not Pan Michael alone was burning with such friendly feeling toward the Swedes, for soon the following conversation of the dragoons surrounding the wagon came to the ears of the prisoners.

"Did you see those pagan dog-faiths?" said one soldier; "we were to fight with them, but now we must clean their horses."

"May the bright thunderbolts crush them!" muttered another dragoon.

"He quiet, the Swede will teach thee manners with a broom over thy head!"

"Or I him."

"Thou art a fool! Not such as thou wish to rush at them; thou seest what has happened."

"We are taking the greatest knights to them, as if into the dog's mouth. They, the sons of Jew mothers, will abuse these knights."

"Without a Jew you cannot talk with such trash. The commandant in Shavli had to send for a Jew right away."

"May the plague kill them!"

Here the first soldier lowered his voice somewhat and said, "They say the best soldiers do not wish to fight against their own king."

"Of course not! Did you not see the Hungarians, or how the hetman used troops against those resisting. It is unknown yet what will happen. Some of our dragoons too took part with the Hungarians; these men very likely are shot by this time."

"That is a reward for faithful service!"

"To the devil with such work! A Jew's service!"

"Halt!" cried, on a sudden, Kovalski riding in front.

"May a bullet halt in thy snout!" muttered a voice near the wagon.

"Who is there?" asked the soldiers of one another.

"Halt!" came a second command.

The wagon stopped. The soldiers held in their horses. The day was pleasant, clear. The sun had risen, and by its rays was to be seen, on the highway ahead, clusters of dust rising as if herds or troops were coming.

Soon the dust began to shine, as if some one were scattering sparks in the bunches of it; and lights glittered each moment more clearly, like burning candles surrounded with smoke.

"Those are spears gleaming!" cried Pan Michael.

"Troops are coming."

"Surely some Swedish detachment!"

"With them only infantry have spears; but there the dust is moving quickly. That is cavalry,--our men!"

"Ours, ours!" repeated the dragoons.

"Form!" thundered Pan Roh.

The dragoons surrounded the wagon in a circle. Pan Volodyovski had flame in his eyes.

"Those are my Lauda men with Zagloba! It cannot be otherwise!"

Now only forty rods divided those approaching from the wagon, and the distance decreased every instant, for the coming detachment was moving at a trot. Finally, from out the dust pushed a strong body of troops moving in good order, as if to attack. In a moment they were nearer. In the first rank, a little from the right side, moved, under a bunchuk, some powerful man with a baton in his hand. Scarcely had Volodyovski put eye on him when he cried,--

"Pan Zagloba! As I love God, Pan Zagloba!"

A smile brightened the face of Pan Yan. "It is he, and no one else, and under a bunchuk! He has already created himself hetman. I should have known him by that whim anywhere. That man will die as he was born."

"May the Lord God give him health!" said Oskyerko.

Then he put his hands around his mouth and began to call, "Gracious Kovalski! your relative is coming to visit you!"

But Pan Roh did not hear, for he was just forming his dragoons. And it is only justice to declare that though he had a handful of men, and on the other side a whole squadron was rolling against him, he was not confused, nor did he lose courage. He placed the dragoons in two ranks in front of the wagon; but the others stretched out and approached in a half-circle, Tartar fashion, from both sides of the field. But evidently they wished to parley, for they began to wave a flag and cry,--

"Stop! stop!"

"Forward!" cried Kovalski.

"Yield!" was cried from the road.

"Fire!" commanded in answer Kovalski.

Dull silence followed,--not a single dragoon fired. Pan Roh was dumb for a moment; then he rushed as if wild on his own dragoons.

"Fire, dog-faiths!" roared he, with a terrible voice; and with one blow of his fist he knocked from his horse the nearest soldier.

Others began to draw back before the rage of the man, but no one obeyed the command. All at once they scattered, like a flock of frightened partridges, in the twinkle of an eye.

"Still I would have those soldiers shot!" muttered Mirski.

Meanwhile Kovalski, seeing that his own men had left him, turned his horse to the attacking ranks.

"For me death is there!" cried he, with a terrible voice.

And he sprang at them, like a thunderbolt. But before he had passed half the distance a shot rattled from Zagloba's ranks.

Pan Roh's horse thrust his nose into the dust and fell, throwing his rider. At the same moment a soldier of Volodyovski's squadron pushed forward like lightning, and caught by the shoulder the officer rising from the ground.

"That is Yuzva Butrym," cried Volodyovski, "Yuzva Footless!"

Pan Roh in his turn seized Yuzva by the skirt, and the skirt remained in his hand; then they struggled like two enraged falcons, for both had gigantic strength. Butrym's stirrup broke; he fell to the ground and turned over, but he did not let Pan Roh go, and both formed as it were one ball, which rolled along the road.

Others ran up. About twenty hands seized Kovalski, who tore and dragged like a bear in a net; he hurled men around, as a wild boar hurls dogs; he raised himself again and did not give up the battle. He wanted to die, but he heard tens of voices repeating the words, "Take him alive! take him alive!" At last his strength forsook him, and he fainted.

Meanwhile Zagloba was at the wagon, or rather on the wagon, and had seized in his embraces Pan Yan, the little knight, Mirski, Stankyevich, and Oskyerko, calling with panting voice,--

"Ha! Zagloba was good for something! Now we will give it to that Radzivill. We are free gentlemen, and we have men. We'll go straightway to ravage his property. Well! did the stratagem succeed? I should have got you out,--if not in one way, in another. I am so blown that I can barely draw breath. Now for Radzivill's property, gracious gentlemen, now for Radzivill's property! You do not know yet as much of Radzivill as I do!"

Further outbursts were interrupted by the Lauda men, who ran one after another to greet their colonel. The Butryms, the Smoky Gostsyeviches, the Domasheviches, the Stakyans, the Gashtovts, crowded around the wagon, and powerful throats bellowed continually,--

"Vivat! vivat!"

"Gracious gentlemen," said the little knight when it grew somewhat quieter, "most beloved comrades, I thank you for your love. It is a terrible thing that we must refuse obedience to the hetman, and raise hands against him; but since his treason is clear, we cannot do otherwise. We will not desert our country and our gracious king--Vivat Johannes Casimirus Rex!"

"Vivat Johannes Casimirus Rex!" repeated three hundred voices.

"Attack the property of Radzivill!" shouted Zagloba, "empty his larders and cellars!"

"Horses for us!" cried the little knight.

They galloped for horses.

Then Zagloba said, "Pan Michael, I was hetman over these people in place of you, and I acknowledge willingly that they acted with manfulness; but as you are now free, I yield the command into your hands."

"Let your grace take command, as superior in rank," said Pan Michael, turning to Mirski.

"I do not think of it, and why should I?" said the old colonel.

"Then perhaps Pan Stankyevich?"

"I have my own squadron, and I will not take his from a stranger. Remain in command; ceremony is chopped straw, satisfaction is oats! You know the men, they know you, and they will fight better under you."

"Do so, Michael, do so, for otherwise it would not be well," said Pan Yan.

"I will do so."

So saying, Pan Michael took the baton from Zagloba's hands, drew up the squadron for marching, and moved with his comrades to the head of it.

"And where shall we go?" asked Zagloba.

"To tell the truth, I don't know myself, for I have not thought of that," answered Pan Michael.

"It is worth while to deliberate on what we should do," said Mirski, "and we must begin at once. But may I be permitted first to give thanks to Pan Zagloba in the name of all, that he did not forget us in straits and rescued us so effectually?"

"Well," said Zagloba, with pride, raising his head and twisting his mustache. "Without me you would be in Birji! Justice commands to acknowledge that what no man can think out, Zagloba thinks out. Pan Michael, we were in straits not like these. Remember how I saved you when we were fleeing before the Tartars with Helena?"

Pan Michael might have answered that in that juncture not Zagloba saved him, but he Zagloba; still he was silent, and his mustache began to quiver. The old noble spoke on,--

"Thanks are not necessary, since what I did for you today you certainly would not fail to do for me to-morrow in case of need. I am as glad to see you free as if I had gained the greatest battle. It seems that neither my hand nor my head has grown very old yet."

"Then you went straightway to Upita?" asked Volodyovski.

"But where should I go,--to Kyedani?--crawl into the wolf's throat? Of course to Upita; and it is certain that I did not spare the horse, and a good beast he was. Yesterday early I was in Upita, and at midday we started for Birji, in the direction in which I expected to meet you."

"And how did my men believe you at once? For, with the exception of two or three who saw you at my quarters, they did not know you."

"To tell the truth, I had not the least difficulty; for first of all, I had your ring, Pan Michael, and secondly, the men had just learned of your arrest and the treason of the hetman. I found a deputation to them from Pan Mirski's squadron and that of Pan Stankyevich, asking to join them against the hetman, the traitor. When I informed them that you were being taken to Birji, it was as if a man had thrust a stick into an ant-hill. Their horses were at pasture; boys were sent at once to bring them in, and at midday we started. I took the command openly, for it belonged to me."

"But, father, where did you get the bunchuk?" asked Pan Yan. "We thought from a distance that you were the hetman."

"Of course, I did not look worse than he? Where did I get the bunchuk? Well, at the same time with the deputations from the resisting squadrons, came also Pan Shchyt with a command to the Lauda men to march to Kyedani, and he brought a bunchuk to give greater weight to the command. I ordered his arrest on the spot, and had the bunchuk borne above me to deceive the Swedes if I met them."

"As God lives, he thought all out wisely!" cried Oskyerko.

"As Solomon!" added Stankyevich.

Zagloba swelled up as if he were yeast.

"Let us take counsel at once as to what should be done," said he at last. "If it is agreeable to the company to listen to me with patience, I will tell what I have thought over on the road. I do not advise you to commence war with Radzivill now, and this for two reasons: first, because he is a pike and we are perches. It is better for perches never to turn head to a pike, for he can swallow them easily, but tail, for then the sharp scales protect them. May the devil fix him on a spit in all haste, and baste him with pitch lest he burn overmuch."

"Secondly?" asked Mirski.

"Secondly," answered Zagloba, "if at any time, by any fortune, we should fall into his hands, he would give us such a flaying that all the magpies in Lithuania would have something to scream about. See what was in that letter which Kovalski was taking to the Swedish commandant at Birji, and know the voevoda of Vilna, in case he was unknown to you hitherto."

So saying, he unbuttoned his vest, and taking from his bosom a letter, gave it to Mirski.

"Pshaw! it is in German or Swedish," said the old colonel. "Who can read this letter?"

It appeared that Pan Stanislav alone knew a little German, for he had gone frequently to Torun (Thorn), but he could not read writing.

"I will tell you the substance of it," said Zagloba. "When in Upita the soldiers sent to the pasture for their horses, there was a little time. I gave command to bring to me by the locks a Jew whom every one said was dreadfully wise, and he, with a sabre at his throat, read quickly all that was in the letter and shelled it out to me. Behold the hetman enjoined on the commandant at Birji, and for the good of the King of Sweden directed him, after the convoy had been sent back, to shoot every one of us, without sparing a man, but so to do it that no report might go abroad."

All the colonels began to clap their hands, except Mirski, who, shaking his head, said,--

"It was for me who knew him marvellous, and not find a place in my head, that he would let us out of Kyedani. There must surely be reasons to us unknown, for which he could not put us to death himself."

"Doubtless for him it was a question of public opinion."

"Maybe."

"It is wonderful how venomous he is," said the little knight; "for without mentioning services, I and Ganhof saved his life not so long ago."

"And I," said Stankyevich, "served under his father and under him thirty-five years."

"He is a terrible man!" added Pan Stanislav.

"It is better not to crawl into the hands of such a one," said Zagloba. "Let the devils take him! We will avoid fighting with him, but we will pluck bare these estates of his that lie on our way."

"Let us go to the voevoda of Vityebsk, so as to have some defence, some leader; and on the road we will take what can be had from the larders, stables, granaries, and cellars. My soul laughs at the thought, and it is sure that I will let no one surpass me in this work. What money we can take from land-bailiffs we will take. The more noisily and openly we go to the voevoda of Vityebsk, the more gladly will he receive us."

"He will receive us gladly as we are," said Oskyerko. "But it is good advice to go to him, and better can no one think out at present."

"Will all agree to that?" asked Stankyevich.

"As true as life!" said Pan Mirski. "So then to the voevoda of Vityebsk! Let him be that leader for whom we prayed to God."

"Amen!" said the others.

They rode some time in silence, till at last Pan Michael began to be uneasy in the saddle. "But could we not pluck the Swedes somewhere on the road?" asked he at last, turning his eyes to his comrades.

"My advice is: if a chance comes, why not?" answered Stankyevich. "Doubtless Radzivill assured the Swedes that he had all Lithuania in his hands, and that all were deserting Yan Kazimir willingly; let it be shown that this is not true."

"And properly!" said Mirski. "If some detachment crawls into our way, we will ride over it. I will say also: Attack not the prince himself, for we could not stand before him, he is a great warrior! But, avoiding battles, it is worth while to move about Kyedani a couple of days."

"To plunder Radzivill's property?" asked Zagloba.

"No, but to assemble more men. My squadron and that of Pan Stankyevich will join us. If they are already defeated,--and they may be,--the men will come to us singly. It will not pass either without a rally of nobles to us. We will bring Pan Sapyeha fresh forces with which he can easily undertake something."

In fact, that reckoning was good; and the dragoons of the convoy served as the first example, though Kovalski himself resisted--all his men went over without hesitation to Pan Michael. There might be found more such men in Radzivill's ranks. It might also be supposed that the first attack on the Swedes would call forth a general uprising in the country.

Pan Michael determined therefore to move that night toward Ponyevyej, assemble whom he could of the Lauda nobles in the vicinity of Upita, and thence plunge into the wilderness of Rogovsk, in which, as he expected, the remnants of the defeated resisting squadrons would be in hiding. Meanwhile he halted for rest at the river Lavecha, to refresh horses and men.

They halted there till night, looking from the density of the forest to the high-road, along which were passing continually new crowds of peasants, fleeing to the woods before the expected Swedish invasion.

The soldiers sent out on the road brought in from time to time single peasants as informants concerning the Swedes; but it was impossible to learn much from them. The peasants were frightened, and each repeated separately that the Swedes were here and there, but no one could give accurate information.

When it had become completely dark, Pan Volodyovski commanded the men to mount their horses; but before they started a rather distinct sound of bells came to their ears.

"What is that?" asked Zagloba, "it is too late for the Angelus."

Volodyovski listened carefully, for a while. "That is an alarm!" said he.

Then he went along the line. "And does any one here know what village or town there is in that direction?"

"Klavany, Colonel," answered one of the Gostsyeviches; "we go that way with potash."

"Do you hear bells?"

"We hear! That is something unusual."

Volodyovski nodded to the trumpeter, and in a low note the trumpet sounded in the dark forest. The squadron pushed forward.

The eyes of all were fixed in the direction from which the ringing came each moment more powerful; indeed they were not looking in vain, for soon a red light gleamed on the horizon and increased every moment.

"A fire!" muttered the men in the ranks.

Pan Michael bent toward Skshetuski. "The Swedes!" said he.

"We will try them!" answered Pan Yan.

"It is a wonder to me that they are setting fire."

"The nobles must have resisted, or the peasants risen if they attacked the church."

"Well, we shall see!" said Pan Michael. And he was panting with satisfaction.

Then Zagloba clattered up to him. "Pan Michael?"

"What?"

"I see that the odor of Swedish flesh has come to you. There will surely be a battle, will there not?"

"As God gives, as God gives!"

"But who will guard the prisoner?"

"What prisoner?"

"Of course, not me, but Kovalski. Pan Michael, it is a terribly important thing that he should not escape. Remember that the hetman knows nothing of what has happened, and will learn from no one, if Kovalski does not report to him. It is requisite to order some trusty men to guard him; for in time of battle he might escape easily, especially if he takes up some stratagem."

"He is as capable of stratagems as the wagon on which he is sitting. But you are right; it is necessary to station some one near. Will you have him under your eye during this time?"

"H'm! I am sorry to be away from the battle! It is true that in the night near fire I am as good as blind. If it were in the daytime you would never have persuaded me; but since the public good requires it, let this be so."

"Very well, I will leave you with five soldiers to assist; and if he tries to escape, fire at his head."

"I'll squeeze him like wax in my fingers, never fear!--But the fire is increasing every moment. Where shall I stay with Kovalski?"

"Wherever you like. I've no time now!" answered Pan Michael, and he rode on.

The flames were spreading rapidly. The wind was blowing from the fire and toward the squadron, and with the sound of bells brought the report of firearms.

"On a trot!" commanded Volodyovski.

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Chapter XIX

When near the village, the Lauda men slackened their speed, and saw a broad street so lighted by flames that pins might be picked from the ground; for on both sides a number of cottages were burning, and others were catching fire from these gradually, for the wind was strong and carried sparks, nay, whole clusters of them, like fiery birds, to the adjoining roofs. On the street the flames illuminated greater and smaller crowds of people moving quickly in various directions. The cries of men were mingled with the sounds of the church-bells hidden among trees, with the bellowing of cattle, the barking of dogs, and with infrequent discharges of firearms.

After they had ridden nearer, Volodyovski's soldiers saw troopers wearing round hats, not many men. Some were skirmishing with groups of peasants, armed with scythes and forks; firing at them from pistols, and pushing them beyond the cottages, into the gardens; others were driving oxen, cows, and sheep to the road with rapiers; others, whom it was barely possible to distinguish among whole clouds of feathers, had covered themselves with poultry, with wings fluttering in the agonies of death; some were holding horses, each man having two or three belonging to officers who were occupied evidently in plundering the cottages.

The road to the village descended somewhat from a hill in the midst of a birch-grove; so that the Lauda men, without being seen themselves, saw, as it were, a picture representing the enemy's attack on the village, lighted up by flames, in the glare of which could be clearly distinguished foreign soldiers, villagers, women dragged by troopers, and men defending themselves in disordered groups. All were moving violently, like puppets on springs, shouting, cursing, lamenting.

The conflagration shook a full mane of flame over the village, and roared each moment more terribly.

Volodyovski led his men to the open gate, and ordered them to slacken their pace. He might strike, and with one blow wipe out the invaders, who were expecting nothing; but the little knight had determined "to taste the Swedes" in open battle,--he had so arranged that they might see him coming.

Some horsemen, standing near the gate, saw the approaching squadron first. One of them sprang to an officer, who stood with drawn rapier in the midst of a considerable group of horsemen, in the middle of the road, and began to speak to him, pointing to where Volodyovski was descending with his men. The officer shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed for a time; then he gave a sign, and at once the sharp sound of a trumpet was heard, mingled with various cries of men and beasts.

And here our knight could admire the regularity of the Swedish soldiers; for barely were the first tones of the trumpet heard, when some of the horsemen rushed out in hot haste from the cottages, others left the plundered articles, the oxen and sheep, and ran to their horses. In the twinkle of an eye they stood in regular line; at sight of which the little knight's heart rose with wonder, so select were the men. All were large, sturdy fellows, dressed in coats, with leather straps over the shoulders, and black hats with rim raised on the left side; all had matched bay horses, and stood in line with rapiers at their shoulders, looking sharply, but calmly, at the road.

An officer stepped forth from the line with a trumpeter, wishing apparently to inquire what sort of men were approaching so slowly. Evidently they were thought to be one of Radzivill's squadrons, from which no encounter was expected. The officer began to wave his rapier and his hat; the trumpeter sounded continually, as a sign that they wished to parley.

"Let some one fire at him," said the little knight, "so that he may know what to expect from us."

The report sounded; but the shot did not reach, for the distance was too great. Evidently the officer thought that there was some misunderstanding, for he began to shout and to wave his hat.

"Let him have it a second time!" cried Volodyovski.

After the second discharge the officer turned and moved, though not too hurriedly, toward his own, who also approached him on a trot.

The first rank of Lauda men were now entering the gate.

The Swedish officer, riding up, shouted to his men; the rapiers, hitherto standing upright by the shoulders of the horsemen, dropped and hung at their belts; but all at the same instant drew pistols from the holsters, and rested them on the pommels of their saddles, holding the muzzle upward.

"Finished soldiers!" muttered Volodyovski, seeing the rapidity of their movements, which were simultaneous and almost mechanical. Then he looked at his own men to see if the ranks were in order, straightened himself in the saddle, and cried,--

"Forward!"

The Lauda men bent down to the necks of their horses, and rushed on like a whirlwind.

The Swedes let them come near, and then gave a simultaneous discharge from their pistols; but this did little harm to the Lauda men hidden behind the heads of their horses; only a few dropped the reins and fell backward, the rest rushed on and struck the horsemen, breast to breast.

The Lithuanian light squadrons used lances yet, which in the army of the kingdom the hussars alone used; but Volodyovski expecting a battle at close quarters, had ordered his men to plant their lances at the roadside, therefore it came to sabres at once.

The first impetus was not sufficient to break the Swedes, but it pushed them back, so that they began to retreat, cutting and thrusting with their rapiers; but the Lauda men pushed them furiously along the road. Bodies began to fall thickly. The throng grew denser each moment; the clatter of sabres frightened the peasants out of the broad road, in which the heat from the burning houses was unendurable, though the houses were separated from the road and the fences by gardens.

The Swedes, pressed with increasing vigor, retreated gradually, but still in good order. It was difficult moreover to scatter them, since strong fences closed the road on both sides. At times they tried to stop, but were unable to do so.

It was a wonderful battle, in which, by reason of the relatively narrow place of meeting, only the first ranks fought, those next in order could only push forward those standing in front of them; but just for this reason the struggle was turned into a furious encounter.

Volodyovski, having previously requested the old colonels and Pan Yan to look after the men during the attack, enjoyed himself to the full in the first rank. And every moment some Swedish hat fell before him in the throng, as if it had dived into the ground; sometimes a rapier, torn from the hand of a horseman, flew whistling above the rank, and at the same instant was heard the piercing cry of a man, and again a hat fell; a second took its place, then a third the place of the second; but Volodyovski pushed ever forward. His eyes glittered like two ill-omened sparks, but he was not carried away and did not forget himself; at moments, when he had no one at sword's length in front of him, he turned his face and blade somewhat to the right or left, and destroyed in the twinkle of an eye a horseman, with a movement apparently trifling; and he was terrible through these slight and lightning movements which were almost not human.

As a woman pulling hemp disappears in it and is hidden completely, but by the falling stalks her road is known easily, so he vanished from the eye for a time in the throng of large men; but where soldiers were falling like stalks under the sickle of the harvester who cuts near the ground, there was Pan Michael. Pan Stanislav and the gloomy Yuzva Butrym, called Footless, followed hard in his track.

At length the Swedish rear ranks began to push out from between the fences to the broad grass-plot before the church and the bell-tower, and after them came the front ranks. Now was heard the command of the officer, who wished evidently to bring all his men into action at once; and the oblong rectangular body of horsemen stretched out, deployed in the twinkle of an eye, into a long line to present its whole front.

But Pan Yan, who directed the battle and led the squadron, did not imitate the Swede; he rushed forward with a dense column which, striking the now weaker line, broke it, as if with a wedge, and turned swiftly to the right toward the church, taking with this movement the rear of one half of the Swedes, while on the other half Mirski and Stankyevich sprang with the reserve in which were a part of the Lauda men and all of Kovalski's dragoons.

Two battles now began; but they did not last long. The left wing, on which Pan Yan had struck, was unable to form, and scattered first; the right, in which was the commanding officer, resisted longer, but being too much extended, it began to break, to fall into disorder, and at last followed the example of the left wing.

The grass-plot was broad, but unfortunately was enclosed on all sides by a lofty fence; and the church-servants closed and propped the opposite gate when they saw what was taking place.

The scattered Swedes then ran around, but the Lauda men rushed after them. In some places larger groups fought, a number at a time, with sabres and rapiers; in other places the conflict was turned into a series of duels, and man met man, the rapier crossed the sabre, and at times the report of a pistol burst forth. Here and there a Swedish horseman, escaping from one sabre, ran, as if to a trap, under another. Here and there a Swede or a Lithuanian rose from under a fallen horse and fell that moment under the blow of a weapon awaiting him.

Through the grass-plot terrified horses rushed about riderless, with waving mane and nostrils distended from fear; some bit one another; others, blinded from fright, turned their tails to the groups of fighting men and kicked them.

Pan Volodyovski, hurling down Swedes as he went, searched the whole place with his eyes for the officer in command; at last he saw him defending himself against two Butryms, and he sprang toward him.

"Aside!" cried he to the Butryms, "aside!"

The obedient soldiers sprang aside, the little knight rushed on and closed with the Swede, the horses of the two stood on their haunches.

The officer wished evidently to unhorse his opponent with a thrust; but Volodyovski, interposing the hilt of his sabre, described a half-circle like lightning, and the rapier flew away. The officer bent to his holsters, but, cut through the cheek at that moment, he dropped the reins from his left hand.

"Take him alive!" shouted Volodyovski to the Butryms.

The Lauda men seized the wounded officer and held him tottering in the saddle; the little knight pushed on and rode farther against the Swedes, quenching them before him like candles.

But the Swedes began to yield everywhere before the nobles, who were more adroit in fencing and single combat. Some of the Swedes, seizing their rapier blades, extended the hilts to their opponents; others threw their weapons at their feet; the word "Pardon!" was heard more and more frequently on the field. But no attention was paid to the word, for Pan Michael had commanded to spare but few. The Swedes, seeing this, rushed anew to the struggle, and died as became soldiers after a desperate defence, redeeming richly with blood their own death.

An hour later the last of them were cut down. The peasants ran in crowds from the village to the grass-plot to catch the horses, kill the wounded, and plunder the dead.

Such was the end of the first encounter of Lithuanians with Swedes.

Meanwhile Zagloba, stationed at a distance in the birch-grove with the wagon in which lay Pan Roh, was forced to hear the bitter reproach that, though a relative, he had treated that young man shamefully.

"Uncle, you have ruined me utterly, for not only is a bullet in the head waiting for me at Kyedani, but eternal infamy will fall on my name. Henceforth whoso wants to say, 'Fool,' may say, 'Roh Kovalski!'"

"The truth is that not many will be found to contradict him," answered Zagloba; "and the best proof of your folly is that you wonder at being hung on a hook by me who moved the Khan of the Crimea as a puppet. Well, did you think to yourself, worthless fellow, that I would let you take me and other men of importance to Birji, and throw us, the ornaments of the Commonwealth, into the jaws of the Swedes?"

"I was not taking you of my own will."

"But you were the servant of an executioner, and that for a noble is infamy from which you must purify yourself, or I will renounce you and all the Kovalskis. To be a traitor is worse than to be a crabmonger, but to be the servant of some one worse than a crabmonger is the lowest thing."

"I was serving the hetman."

"And the hetman the devil. There you have it! You are a fool, Roh: get that into your head once and forever, dispute not, but hold to my skirts, and a man will come of you yet; for know this, that advancement has met more than one personage through me."

The rattle of shots interrupted further conversation, for the battle was just beginning in the village. Then the discharges stopped, but the noise continued, and shouts reached that retreat in the birch-grove.

"Ah, Pan Michael is working," said Zagloba. "He is not big, but he bites like a viper. They are shelling out those devils from over the sea like peas. I would rather be there than here, and through you I must listen here. Is this your gratitude? Is this the act of a respectable relative?"

"What have I to be grateful for?" asked Roh.

"For this, that a traitor is not ploughing with you, as with an ox,--though you are grandly fitted for ploughing, since you are stupid and strong. Understand me? Ai! it is getting hotter and hotter there. Do you hear? That must be the Swedes who are bawling like calves in a pasture."

Here Zagloba became serious, for he was a little disturbed; on a sudden he asked, looking quickly into Pan Roh's eyes,--

"To whom do you wish victory?"

"To ours, of course."

"See that! And why not to the Swedes?"

"I would rather pound them. Who are ours, are ours!"

"Conscience is waking up in you. But how could you take your own blood to the Swedes?"

"For I had an order."

"But now you have no order?"

"True."

"Your superior is now Pan Volodyovski, no one else."

"Well, that seems to be true."

"You must do what Pan Volodyovski commands."

"I must."

"He commands you now to renounce Radzivill for the future, and not to serve him, but the country."

"How is that?" asked Pan Roh, scratching his head.

"A command!" cried Zagloba.

"I obey!" said Kovalski.

"That is right! At the first chance you will thrash the Swedes."

"If it is the order, it is the order!" answered Kovalski, and breathed deeply, as if a great burden had fallen from his breast.

Zagloba was equally well satisfied, for he had his own views concerning Kovalski. They began then to listen in harmony to the sounds of the battle which came to them, and listened about an hour longer, until all was silent.

Zagloba was more and more alarmed. "If they have not succeeded?" asked he.

"Uncle, you an old warrior and can say such things! If they were beaten they would come back to us in small groups."

"True! I see thy wit will be of service."

"Do you hear the tramp, Uncle? They are riding slowly. They must have cut the Swedes to pieces."

"Oi, if they are only ours! Shall I go forward, or not?"

Saying this, Zagloba dropped his sabre at his side, took his pistol in his hand, and moved forward. Soon he saw before him a dark mass moving slowly along the road; at the same time noise of conversation reached him.

In front rode a number of men talking with one another loudly; soon the well-known voice of Pan Michael struck the ear of Zagloba. "They are good men! I don't know what kind of infantry they have, but the cavalry is perfect."

Zagloba touched his horse with the spurs. "Ah! how is it, how is it? Oh, impatience was tearing me, I wanted to fly into the fire! But is no one wounded?"

"All are sound, praise to God; but we have lost more than twenty good soldiers."

"And the Swedes?"

"We laid them down like a pavement."

"Pan Michael, you must have enjoyed yourself as a dog in a spring. But was it a decent thing to leave me, an old man, on guard? The soul came near going out of me, so much did I want Swedish meat. Oh, I should have gnawed them!"

"You may have a roast now if you like, for a number of them are in the fire."

"Let the dogs eat them. And were prisoners taken?"

"A captain, and seven soldiers."

"What do you think to do with them?"

"I would have them hanged, for like robbers they fell on an innocent village and were killing the people. Yan says, however, that that will not do."

"Listen to me, gentlemen, hear what has come to my head just now: there is no good in hanging them; on the contrary, let them go to Birji as soon as possible."

"What for?"

"You know me as a soldier, know me now as a statesman. We will let the Swedes go, but we will not tell them who we are. We will say that we are Radzivill's men, that we have cut off this detachment at command of the hetman, and in future will cut off whom we meet, for the hetman only pretended, through strategy, to join the Swedes. They will break their heads over this, and thus we will undermine the hetman's credit terribly. Just think, this hits the Swedes and hits Radzivill too. Kyedani is far from Birji, and Radzivill is still farther from Pontus de la Gardie. Before they explain to each other what has happened and how, they will be ready to fight. We will set the traitor against the invaders; and who will gain by this, if not the Commonwealth?"

"This is excellent counsel, and quite worth the victory. May the bullets strike him!" said Stankyevich.

"You have the mind of a chancellor," added Mirski, "for this will disturb their plans."

"Surely we should act thus," said Pan Michael. "I will set them free to-morrow; but to-day I do not wish to know of anything, for I am dreadfully wearied. It was as hot in the village as in an oven! Uf! my arms are paralyzed completely. The officer could not go to-day in any case, for his face is cut."

"But in what language shall we tell them all this? What is your counsel, father?" asked Pan Yan.

"I have been thinking of that too," answered Zagloba. "Kovalski told me that there are two Prussians among his dragoons who know how to jabber German, and are sharp fellows. Let them tell in German,--which the Swedes know of course, after fighting so many years in Germany. Kovalski is ours, soul and body. He is a man in a hundred, and we will have no small profit from him."

"Well done!" said Volodyovski. "Will some of you, gentlemen, be so kind as to see to this, for I have no voice in my throat from weariness? I have told the men that we shall stay in this grove till morning. The villagers will bring us food, and now to sleep! My lieutenant will see to the watch. 'Pon my word, I cannot see you, for my eyes are closing."

"Gentlemen," said Zagloba, "there is a stack of hay just outside the birches; let us go to the stack, we shall sleep like susliks, and to the road on the morrow. We shall not come back to this country, unless with Pan Sapyeha against Radzivill."

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Chapter XX

In Lithuania a civil war had begun, which, with two invasions of the Commonwealth and the ever more stubborn war of the Ukraine, filled the measure of misfortune.

The army of the Lithuanian quota, though so small in number that alone it could not offer effectual resistance to any of the enemies, was divided into two camps. Some regiments, and specially the foreign ones, remained with Radzivill; others, forming the majority, proclaimed the hetman a traitor, protested in arms against joining Sweden, but without unity, without a leader, without a plan. Sapyeha might be its leader, but he was too much occupied at that time with the defence of Byhovo and with the desperate struggle in the interior of the country, to be able to take his place immediately at the head of the movement against Radzivill.

Meanwhile the invaders, each considering a whole region as his own, began to send threatening messages to the other. From their misunderstandings might rise in time the salvation of the Commonwealth; but before it came to hostile steps between them there reigned the most terrible chaos in all Lithuania. Radzivill, deceived in the army, determined to bring it to obedience through force.

Volodyovski had barely reached Ponyevyej with his squadron, after the battle of Klavany, when news came to him of the destruction, by Radzivill, of Mirski's squadron, and that of Stankyevich. Some of the men were placed by force among Radzivill's troops; others were cut down or scattered to the four winds; the remainder were wandering singly or in small groups through villages and forests, seeking a place to hide their heads from vengeance and pursuit.

Fugitives came daily to Pan Michael's detachment, increasing his force and bringing news the most varied.

The most important item was news of the mutiny of Lithuanian troops stationed in Podlyasye, near Byalystok and Tykotsin. After the armies of Moscow had occupied Vilno the squadrons from that place had to cover the approach to the territories of the kingdom. But hearing of the hetman's treason, they formed a confederation, at the head of which were two colonels, Horotkyevich and Yakub Kmita, a cousin of Andrei, the most trusty assistant of Radzivill.

The name of the latter was repeated with horror by the soldiers. He mainly had caused the dispersion of Stankyevich's squadron and that of Mirski; he shot without mercy the captured officers. The hetman trusted him blindly, and just recently had sent him against Nyevyarovski's squadron, which, disregarding the example of its colonel, refused obedience.

Volodyovski heard the last account with great attention; then he turned to the officers summoned in counsel, and asked,--

"What would you say to this,--that we, instead of hurrying to the voevoda of Vityebsk, go to those squadrons which have formed a confederacy in Podlyasye?"

"You have taken that out of my mouth!" said Zagloba "It is nearer home there, and it is always pleasanter among one's own people."

"Fugitives mention too a report," added Pan Yan, "that the king has ordered some squadrons to return from the Ukraine, to oppose the Swedes on the Vistula. If this should prove true, we might be among old comrades instead of pounding from corner to corner."

"But who is going to command those squadrons? Does any one know?"

"They say that Charnyetski will," answered Volodyovski; "but people say this rather than know it, for positive intelligence could not come yet."

"However it may be," said Zagloba, "my advice is to hurry to Podlyasye. We can bring to our side those squadrons that have risen against Radzivill, and take them to the king, and that certainly will not be without a reward."

"Let it be so!" said Oskyerko and Stankyevich.

"It is not easy," said the little knight, "to get to Podlyasye, for we shall have to slip through the fingers of the hetman. If fortune meanwhile should grant us to snap up Kmita somewhere on the road, I would speak a couple of words in his ear, from which his skin would grow green."

"He deserves it," said Mirski. "That some old soldiers who have served their whole lives under the Radzivills hold to the hetman, is less to be wondered at; but that swaggerer serves only for his own profit, and the pleasure which he finds in betrayal."

"So then to Podlyasye?" asked Oskyerko.

"To Podlyasye! to Podlyasye!" cried all in one voice.

But still the affair was difficult, as Volodyovski had said; for to go to Podlyasye it was necessary to pass near Kyedani, as near a den in which a lion was lurking.

The roads and lines of forest, the towns and villages were in the hands of Radzivill; somewhat beyond Kyedani was Kmita, with cavalry, infantry, and cannon. The hetman had heard already of the escape of the colonels, the mutiny of Volodyovski's squadron, and the battle of Klavany; the last brought him to such rage that there was fear for his life, since a terrible attack of asthma had for a time almost stopped his breathing.

In truth he had cause enough for anger, and even for despair, since that battle brought on his head a whole Swedish tempest. People began at once after this battle to cut up here and there small Swedish detachments. Peasants did this, and individual nobles independently; but the Swedes laid it to the account of Radzivill, especially as the officers and men sent by Volodyovski to Birji declared before the commandant that one of Radzivill's squadrons had fallen upon them at his command.

In a week a letter came to the prince from the commandant at Birji, and ten days later from Pontus de la Gardie himself, the commander-in-chief of the Swedish forces.

"Either your highness has no power and significance," wrote the latter,--"and in such case how could you conclude a treaty in the name of the whole country!--or it is your wish to bring about through artifice the ruin of the king's army. If that is the case, the favor of my master will turn from your highness, and punishment will come quickly, unless you show obedience and efface your faults by faithful service."

Radzivill sent couriers at once with an explanation of what had happened and how; but the dart had fastened in his haughty soul, and the burning wound began to rankle more and more. He whose word not long before terrified the country more than all Sweden; he for the half of whose property all the Swedish lords might have been bought; he who stood against his own king, thinking himself the equal of monarchs; he who had acquired fame in the whole world by his victories, and who walked in his own pride as in sunshine--must now listen to the threats of one Swedish general, must hear lectures on obedience and faithfulness. It is true that that general was brother-in-law to the king; but the king himself,--who was he? A usurper of the throne belonging by right and inheritance to Yan Kazimir.

Above all, the rage of the hetman was turned against those who were the cause of that humiliation, and he swore to himself to trample Volodyovski and those colonels who were with him and the whole squadron of Lauda. With this object he marched against them; and as hunters to clear out the wolf's nest surround a forest with shares, he surrounded them and began to pursue without rest.

Meanwhile tidings came that Kmita had crushed Nyevyarovski's squadron, cut down or scattered the officers, and joined the men to his own. Radzivill, to strike the more surely, commanded Pan Andrei to send him some of these troops.

"Those men," wrote the hetman, "for whose lives you interceded with us so persistently, and mainly Volodyovski with that other straggler, escaped on the road to Birji. We sent the stupidest officer with them on purpose, so that they might not win him over; but even he either became a traitor, or they fooled him. Now Volodyovski has the whole Lauda squadron, and fugitives are reinforcing him. They cut to pieces one hundred and twenty Swedes at Klavany, saying that they did it at our command, from which great distrust has arisen between us and Pontus. The whole cause may be ruined by those traitors, whose heads, had it not been for your interference, would have been cut off at our command, as God is in heaven. So we have to repent of our mildness, though we hope in God that vengeance will soon overtake them. Tidings have come to us, too, that in Billeviche nobles assemble at the house of the sword-bearer and conspire against us. This must be stopped! You will send all the cavalry to us, and the infantry to Kyedani to guard the castle and the town, for from those traitors anything may be expected. You will go yourself with some tens of horsemen to Billeviche, and bring the sword-bearer and his niece to Kyedani. At present it is important, not only for you, but for us; for whoso has them in hand has the whole Lauda region, in which the nobles, following the example of Volodyovski, are beginning to rise against us. We have sent Harasimovich to Zabludovo with instructions how to begin with those confederates. Of great importance among them is Yakub, your cousin, to whom you will write, if you think you can act on him through a letter. Signifying to you our continual favor, we commit you to the care of God."

When Kmita had read this letter, he was content at heart that the colonels had succeeded in escaping the Swedes, and in secret he wished them to escape Radzivill. Still he carried out all commands of the prince, sent him the cavalry, garrisoned Kyedani with infantry, and began to make trenches along the castle and the town, promising himself to go immediately after this work was done to Billeviche for the sword-bearer and the young woman.

"I will use no force, unless in the last resort," thought he, "and in no case will I urge Olenka. Finally, it is not my will, 'tis the command of the prince. She will not receive me pleasantly, I know; but God grant that in time she will know my intentions, and that I serve Radzivill not against the country, but for its salvation."

Thinking thus, he labored zealously at fortifying Kyedani, which was to be the residence of his Olenka in the future.

Meanwhile Volodyovski was slipping away before the hetman, but the hetman pursued him furiously. It was, however, too narrow for Pan Michael; for from Birji considerable detachments of Swedish troops pushed toward the south, the east of the country was occupied by the legions of the Tsar, and on the road to Kyedani the hetman was lying in wait.

Zagloba was greatly depressed by such a condition of affairs, and he turned with increasing frequency to Pan Michael with questions: "Pan Michael, by the love of God, shall we break through or shall we not break through?"

"There is not even talk of breaking through here," answered the little knight. "You know that I am not lined with cowardice, and that I attack whom I will, even the devil himself. But I cannot meet the hetman, for I am not equal to him. You have said yourself that he is a pike and we perches. I shall do what is in my power to slip out, but if it comes to a battle, I tell you plainly that he will defeat us."

"Then he will command to chop us up and throw us to the dogs. As God lives! into any man's hands save Radzivill's! But in this case why not turn to Pan Sapyeha?"

"It is too late now, for the hetman's troops and the Swedes have closed the roads."

"The devil tempted me when I persuaded Pan Yan and his cousin to go to Radzivill!" said Zagloba, in despair.

But Pan Michael did not lose hope yet, especially since the nobles, and even the peasants, brought him warning of the hetman's movements; for all hearts were turning from Radzivill. Pan Michael twisted out therefore as he knew how,--and he knew how famously, for almost from childhood he had inured himself to war with Tartars and Cossacks. He had been made renowned in the army of Yeremi by descents on Tartar chambuls, by scouting expeditions, unexpected attacks, lightning escapes, in which he surpassed other officers.

At present hemmed in between Upita and Rogova on one side and Nyevyaja on the other, he doubled around on the space of a few miles, avoiding battle continually, worrying the Radzivill squadrons, and even plucking them a little as a wolf hunted by dogs slips by often near the hunters, and when the dogs press him too closely, turns and shows his white gleaming teeth.

But when Kmita's cavalry came up, the hetman closed the narrowest gaps with them, and went himself to see that the two ends of the snare came together.

That was at Nyevyaja.

The regiments of Myeleshko and Ganhoff with two squadrons of cavalry, under the lead of the prince himself, formed as it were a bow, the string of which was the river. Volodyovski with his squadron was in the centre of the bow. He had in front of him, it is true, one ford which led through a swampy stream, but just on the other side of the ford were two Scottish regiments and two hundred of Radzivill's Cossacks, with six fieldpieces, turned in such manner that even one man could not have reached the other side under the fire of them.

Now the bow began to contract. The middle of it was led by the hetman himself.

Happily for Volodyovski, night and a storm with pouring rain stopped the advance; but for the enclosed men there remained not more than a square half-mile of meadow, grown over with willows, in the middle of the half-ring of Radzivill's army, and the river guarded on the other side by the Scots.

Next morning when the early dawn was just whitening the tops of the willows, the regiments moved forward to the river and were struck dumb with amazement.

Volodyovski had gone through the earth,--there was not a living soul in the willows.

The hetman himself was astounded, and then real thunders fell on the heads of the officers commanding at the ford. And again an attack of asthma seized the prince with such force that those present trembled for his life. But rage overcame even the asthma. Two officers, intrusted with guarding the bank, were to be shot; but Ganhoff prevailed on the prince to have inquiries made first as to how the beast had escaped from the toils.

It appeared in fact that Volodyovski, taking advantage of the darkness and rain, had led his whole squadron out of the willows into the river, and swimming or wading with the current had slipped along Radzivill's right wing, which touched the bank at that point. Some horses, sunk to their bellies in the mud, indicated the place where he had come out on the right bank. From farther tracks it was easy to see that he had moved with all horse-breath in the direction of Kyedani. The hetman guessed at once from this that he wished to make his way to Horotkyevich and Yakub Kmita in Podlyasye.

"But in passing near Kyedani would he not burn the town or try to plunder the castle?"

A terrible fear straitened the heart of the prince. The greater part of his ready money and treasures were in Kyedani. Kmita, it is true, was bound to supply it with infantry; but if he had not done so, the undefended castle would easily become plunder for the insolent colonel. Radzivill felt sure that courage would not be wanting Volodyovski to attack the residence of Kyedani itself. It might be that time would not be wanting, for escaping in the beginning of the night he had left pursuit at least six hours behind.

In every case it was imperative to hasten with all breath to the rescue. The prince left the infantry, and pushed on with the cavalry. When he arrived at Kyedani he did not find Kmita, but he found everything quiet; and the opinion which he had of the young colonel's ability increased doubly at sight of the finished trenches and field-cannon standing on them. That same day he reviewed them in company with Ganhoff, to whom he remarked in the evening,--

"He acted thus of his own mind, without my order, and finished those trenches so well that a protracted defence might be made here, even against artillery. If that man does not break his neck too early, he may rise high."

There was another man, at thought of whom the hetman could not restrain a certain kind of admiration, but mingled with rage, for the man was Pan Michael. "I could finish the mutiny soon," said he to Ganhoff, "if I had two such servants. Kmita may be still more alert, but he has not the experience, and the other was brought up in the school of Yeremi, beyond the Dnieper."

"Does your highness give command to pursue him?" asked Ganhoff.

The prince looked at Ganhoff, and said with emphasis, "He would beat you and escape from me." But after a while he frowned, and added, "Everything is quiet here now; but we must move to Podlyasye at once, and finish those there."

"Your highness," said Ganhoff, "as soon as we move a foot out of this place, all will seize arms against the Swedes."

"Which all?"

"The nobles and peasants. And not stopping with the Swedes, they will turn against the dissidents, for they put all the blame of this war on our co-religionists, saying that we sent to the enemy, and in fact brought the enemy in."

"It is a question with me of my cousin Boguslav. I know not whether he is able to hold out against the confederates in Podlyasye."

"It is a question of Lithuania to keep it in obedience to us and the King of Sweden."

The prince began to walk through the room, saying, "If I could in any way get Horotkyevich and Yakub Kmita into my hands! They will devour my property, destroy, plunder it; they will not leave a stone upon a stone."

"Unless we stipulate with General de la Gardie to send hither as many troops as possible, while we are in Podlyasye."

"With Pontus,--never!" answered Radzivill, to whose head a wave of blood rushed. "If with any one, with the king himself. I do not need to treat with servants when I can treat with their master. If the king were to command Pontus to place two thousand cavalry at my disposal, that would be another thing. But I will not ask Pontus for them. It is needful to send some one to the king; it is time to negotiate with him directly."

The lean face of Ganhoff flushed slightly, and his eyes were lighted with desire. "If your highness commanded--"

"You would go; but for you to arrive there is another thing. You are a German, and it is dangerous for a foreigner to enter an uprisen country. Who knows where the king is at this moment, and where he will be in half a month or a month? It is necessary to ride through the whole country. Besides, it cannot be! You will not go, for it is necessary to send one of my own people, a man of high family, so as to convince the king that not all the nobles have left me."

"An inexperienced man might do much harm," said Ganhoff, timidly.

"An envoy will have no work there except to deliver my letter, and bring back an answer; and any man can explain that it was not I who gave orders to beat the Swedes at Klavany."

Ganhoff was silent.

The prince began again to walk with unquiet steps through the room; on his forehead was manifest a continual struggle of thought. In truth, he had not known a moment of peace from the time of his treaty with the Swedes. Pride devoured him, his conscience gnawed him, the unexpected resistance of the country and the army gnawed him; the uncertainty of the future, and the threat of ruin terrified him. He struggled, he fought, he passed sleepless nights, he was failing in health. His eyes were sinking, he was growing thin; his face, formerly red, became blue, and almost with every hour silver threads increased in his mustaches and his forelock. In a word, he lived in torment, and bent under the burden.

Ganhoff followed him with his eyes as he walked through the room; he had still a little hope that the prince would bethink himself, and send him.

But the prince halted suddenly, and struck his forehead with his palm. "Two squadrons of cavalry, to horse at once! I will lead them myself."

Ganhoff looked on him with wonderment. "An expedition?" inquired he, involuntarily.

"Move on!" said the prince. "God grant that it be not too late!"

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Chapter XXI

When Kmita had finished the trenches and secured Kyedani from sudden attack, he was unable to delay further his expedition for the sword-bearer and Olenka, especially since the command of the prince to bring them to Kyedani was imperative. But still Pan Andrei loitered, and when at last he did move at the head of fifty dragoons, he was as unquiet as if going on a forlorn hope. He felt that he would not be thankfully received, and he trembled at the thought that the old man might try to resist, even with armed hand, and in such an event it would be necessary to use force. But he determined first to persuade and entreat. With the intent of stripping his visit of all semblance of armed attack, he left the dragoons at an inn a quarter of a mile from the village, and two from the house, and ordering the carriage to follow a little later, rode ahead himself, with only the sergeant and one attendant.

It was in the afternoon, and the sun was already well inclined toward the west, but after a rainy and stormy night the day was beautiful and the sky pure, only here and there was it variegated on the western side by small rosy clouds which pushed slowly beyond the horizon, like a flock of sheep leaving a field. Kmita rode through the village with throbbing heart and as uneasy as the Tartar who entering a village first, in advance of a chambul, looks around on every side to see if he can discover armed men in ambush. But the three horsemen attracted no attention. Barefooted little peasant boys merely jumped out of the road before the horses; peasants seeing the handsome officer, bowed to him, sweeping the ground with their caps. He rode on, and passing the village saw ahead a large dwelling, the old Billevich nest; behind it broad gardens ending far beyond in the flat fields.

Kmita slackened his pace still more, and began to talk with himself, evidently framing answers to questions; and meanwhile he gazed with anxious eye on the buildings rising before him. It was not at all a lordly mansion, but at the first glance it would have been guessed that a noble lived there of more than medium fortune. The house itself, with its back to the gardens and front to the highway, was enormous, but of wood. The pine of the walls had grown so dark with age that the panes in the windows seemed white in contrast. Above the walls rose a gigantic roof with four chimneys in the middle, and two dovecotes at the gables. A whole cloud of white doves were collected on the roof, now flying away with clapping of wings, now dropping, like snowy kerchiefs, on the black ridges, now flapping around the pillars supporting the entrance.

That entrance, adorned with a shield on which the Billevich arms were painted, disturbed the proportions of the house, for it was not in the middle, but toward one side of it. Evidently the house had once been smaller, but new parts were added subsequently from one side, though the added parts had grown so black with the passage of years as not to differ in anything from the old. Two wings, of enormous length, rose on both sides of the house proper, and formed as it were two arms of a horseshoe. In these wings were guest-chambers used in time of great gatherings, kitchens, store-houses, carriage-houses, stables for carriage horses which the masters wished to keep near at hand, rooms for officials, servants, and house Cossacks.

In the middle of the broad yard grew old linden-trees, on them were storks' nests. Among the trees was a bear chained to a pillar. Two well-sweeps at the sides of the yard, a cross with the Passion of the Lord between two spears at the entrance, completed this picture of the residence of a powerful, noble family. At the right of the house, in the middle of frequent linden-trees, rose the straw roofs of stables, cow-houses, sheep-houses, and granaries.

Kmita entered the gate, which was open on both sides; like the arms of a noble awaiting the arrival of a guest. Then two dogs loitering through the yard announced the stranger, and from a wing two boys ran to take the horses.

At the same moment in the door of the main building stood a female figure, in which Kmita recognized Olenka at once. His heart beat more quickly, and throwing the reins to the servant, he went toward the porch with uncovered head, holding in one hand his sabre, and in the other his cap.

She stood before him like a charming vision, shading her eyes with her hand against the setting sun, and then vanished on a sudden, as if frightened by the sight of the approaching guest.

"Bad!" thought Pan Andrei; "she hides from me."

He was pained, and his pain was all the greater since just before the mild sunset, the view of that house, and the calm so spread around it filled his heart with hope, though perhaps Pan Andrei did not note that.

He cherished as it were an illusion that he was going to his betrothed, who would receive him with eyes gleaming from joy and a blush on her cheeks.

And the illusion was broken. Scarcely had she seen him when she rushed away, as if from an evil spirit; and straightway Pan Tomash came out to meet him with a face at once unquiet and cloudy.

Kmita bowed and said, "I have long wished to express duly my devotion to you, my benefactor; but I was unable to do so sooner in these times of disturbance, though surely there was no lack in me of desire."

"I am very grateful, and I beg you to enter," answered the sword-bearer, smoothing the forelock on his head,--an act usual with him when confused or uncertain of himself. And he stepped aside from the door to let the guest pass.

Kmita for a while did not wish to enter first, and they bowed to each other on the threshold; at last Pan Andrei took the step before the sword-bearer, and in a moment they were in the room.

They found there two nobles,--one, a man in the bloom of life, Pan Dovgird of Plemborg, a near neighbor of the Billeviches; the other, Pan Hudzynski, a tenant in Eyragoly. Kmita noticed that they had barely heard his name when their faces changed and they seemed to act like dogs at sight of a wolf; he looked at them first defiantly, and then feigned not to see them.

A disagreeable silence succeeded.

Pan Andrei grew impatient and gnawed his mustaches; the guests looked at him with a fixed frown, and the sword-bearer stroked his forelock.

"Will you drink a glass of poor nobles' mead with us?" asked he at last, pointing to a decanter and a glass. "I request you--"

"I will drink with a gentleman!" said Kmita, rather abruptly.

Dovgird and Hudzynski began to puff, taking the answer as an expression of contempt for them; but they would not begin a quarrel at once in a friendly house, and that with a roisterer who had a terrible reputation throughout all Jmud. Still the insult nettled them.

Meanwhile the sword-bearer clapped his hands for a servant, and ordered him to bring a fourth glass; then he filled it, raised his own to his lips, and said, "Into your hands-- I am glad to see you in my house."

"I should be sincerely glad were that true."

"A guest is a guest," said the sword-bearer, sententiously.

After awhile, conscious evidently of his duty as a host to keep up the conversation, he asked, "What do you hear at Kyedani? How is the health of the hetman?"

"Not strong," answered Kmita, "and in these unquiet times it cannot be otherwise. The prince has a world of troubles and annoyances."

"I believe that!" said Pan Hudzynski.

Kmita looked at him for a while, then turned to the host and continued,--

"The prince, being promised assistance by the Swedish King, expected to move against the enemy at Vilna without delay, and take vengeance for the ashes of that place, which have not yet grown cold. And it must be known also to you that now it is necessary to search for Vilna in Vilna, for it was burning seventeen days. They say that nothing is visible among the ruins but the black holes of cellars from which smoke is still rising continually."

"Misfortune!" said the sword-bearer.

"Of course a misfortune, which if it could not have been prevented should be avenged and similar ruins made of the enemy's capital. In fact, it was coming to this when disturbers, suspecting the best intentions of an honorable man, proclaimed him a traitor, and resisted him in arms instead of aiding him against the enemy. It is not to be wondered, therefore, that the health of the prince totters, since he, whom God predestined to great things, sees that the malice of man is ever preparing new obstacles through which the entire undertaking may come to naught. The best friends of the prince have deceived him; those on whom he counted most have left him, or gone to the enemy."

"So it is," said the sword-bearer, seriously.

"That is very painful," continued Kmita, "and I myself have heard the prince say, 'I know that honorable men pass evil judgments on me; but why do they not come to Kyedani, why do they not tell me to my face what they have against me, and listen to my reasons?'"

"Whom has the prince in mind?" asked the sword-bearer.

"In the first rank you, my benefactor, for whom he has a genuine regard, and he suspects that you belong to the enemy."

The sword-bearer began to smooth his forelock quickly. At last, seeing that the conversation was taking an undesirable turn, he clapped his hands.

A servant appeared in the doorway.

"Seest not that it is growing dark? Bring lights!" cried Pan Tomash.

"God sees," continued Kmita, "that I had intended to lay before you proper assurances of my own devotion separately, but I have come here also at the order of the prince, who would have come in person to Billeviche if the time were more favoring."

"Our thresholds are too lowly," said the sword-bearer.

"Do not say that, since it is customary for neighbors to visit one another; but the prince has no time unoccupied, therefore he said to me, 'Explain in my name to Pan Billevich that I am not able to visit him, but let him come to me with his niece, and that of course without delay, for to-morrow or the day following I know not where I shall be.' So I have come with a request, and I trust that both of you are in good health; for when I drove in here I saw Panna Aleksandra in the door, but she vanished at once, like mist from the field."

"That is true," said the sword-bearer; "I sent her myself to see who had come."

"I am waiting for your reply, my benefactor," said Kmita.

At that moment the attendant brought in a light and placed it on the table; by the shining of the light it was seen that Billevich was greatly confused.

"This is no small honor for me," said he, "but--I cannot go at once. Be pleased to excuse me to the hetman--you see that I have guests."

"Oh, surely that will not hinder, for these gentlemen will yield to the prince."

"We have our own tongues in our mouths, and can answer for ourselves," said Pan Hudzynski.

"Without waiting for others to make decisions concerning us," added Dovgird.

"You see," continued Kmita, pretending to take in good part the churlish words of the nobles, "I knew that these were polite cavaliers. But to avoid slighting any one, I invite them also in the name of the prince to come to Kyedani."

"Too much favor," said both; "we have something else to do."

Kmita looked on them with a peculiar expression, and then said coldly, as if speaking to some fourth person, "When the prince invites, it is not permitted to refuse."

At that they rose from their chairs.

"But is that constraint?" asked the sword-bearer.

"Pan Billevich, my benefactor," answered Kmita, quickly, "those gentlemen will go whether they wish or not, for thus it has pleased me; but I desire not to use force with you, and I beg most sincerely that you will deign to gratify the prince. I am on service, and have an order to bring you; but as long as I do not lose hope of effecting something with entreaty, I shall not cease to entreat,--and I swear to you that not a hair will fall from your head while there. The prince wishes to talk with you, and wishes you to live in Kyedani during these troubled times, when even peasants collect in crowds and plunder. This is the whole affair! You will be treated with fitting respect in Kyedani, as a guest and a friend; I give my word of honor for that."

"As a noble, I protest," said the sword-bearer, "and the law protects me."

"And sabres!" cried Hudzynski and Dovgird.

Kmita laughed, frowned, and said, "Put away your sabres, gentlemen, or I shall give the order to place you both against the barn and put a bullet into the head of each one of you."

At this they grew timid, and began to look at each other and at Kmita; but the sword-bearer cried,--

"The most outrageous violence against the freedom of nobles, against privileges!"

"There will be no violence if you comply of your own will," said Kmita; "and the proof is in this that I left dragoons in the village, and came here alone to invite you as one neighbor another. Do not refuse, for the times are such that it is difficult to pay attention to refusals. The prince himself will excuse you therefore, and know that you will be received as a neighbor and a friend. Understand, too, that could you be received otherwise, I would a hundred times rather have a bullet in my head than come here for you. Not a hair will fall from any Billevich head while I am alive. Call to mind who I am, remember Heraclius Billevich, remember his will, and consider whether the prince would have selected me did he not intend to deal with you in sincerity."

"Why then does he use force, why have I to go under constraint? How am I to trust him, when all Lithuania talks of the oppression under which honorable citizens are groaning in Kyedani?"

Kmita drew breath; for, from his words and voice he knew that Billevich was beginning to weaken in his resistance.

"Worthy benefactor," said he, almost joyously, "constraint among neighbors often rises from affection. And when you order servants to put the carriage-wheel of a welcome guest in the storehouse, or his provision-chest in the larder, is not that constraint? And when you force him to drink, even when wine is flowing out through his nostrils, is not that constraint? And be assured that even had I to bind you and take you bound to Kyedani among dragoons, that would be for your good. Just think, insurgent soldiers are wandering about and committing lawless deeds, peasants are mustering, Swedish troops are approaching, and do you think to save yourself from accident in the uproar, or that some of these will not come to-day or tomorrow, plunder and burn your property, and attack your person? Is Billeviche a fortress? Can you defend yourself here? What does the prince wish for you? Safety; for Kyedani is the only place where you are not in danger. A detachment of the prince's troops will guard your property here, as the eyes in their heads, from all disorder of soldiers; and if one fork is lost, then take my whole fortune."

Billevich began to walk through the room. "Can I trust your word?"

At that moment Panna Aleksandra entered the room. Kmita approached her quickly, but suddenly remembered the events of Kyedani, and her cold face fixed him to the floor; he bowed therefore from a distance, in silence.

Pan Billevich stood before her. "We have to go to Kyedani," said he.

"And for what reason?" asked she.

"For the hetman invites."

"Very kindly,--as a neighbor," added Kmita.

"Yes, very kindly," said Billevich, with a certain bitterness; "but if we do not go of our own will, this cavalier has the order to surround us with dragoons and take us by force."

"God preserve us from that!" said Kmita.

"Have not I told you, Uncle," asked Panna Aleksandra, "that we ought to flee as far as possible, for they would not leave us here undisturbed? Now my words have come true."

"What's to be done, what's to be done? There is no remedy against force," cried Billevich.

"True," answered the lady: "but we ought not to go to that infamous house of our own will. Let murderers take us, bind us, and bear us. Not we alone shall suffer persecution, not us alone will the vengeance of traitors reach; but let them know that we prefer death to infamy."

Here she turned with an expression of supreme contempt to Kmita: "Bind us, sir officer, or sir executioner, and take us with horses, for in another way we will not go."

The blood rushed to Kmita's face; it seemed for a time that he would burst forth in terrible anger, but he restrained himself.

"Ah, gracious lady," said he, with a voice stifled from excitement, "I have not favor in your eyes, since you wish to make me a murderer, a traitor, and a man of violence. May God judge who is right,--whether I serving the hetman, or you insulting me as a dog. God gave you beauty, but a heart venomous and implacable. You are glad to suffer yourself, that you may inflict still greater pain on another. You exceed the measure,--as I live, you exceed it,--and nothing will come of that."

"The maiden speaks well," cried Billevich, to whom daring came suddenly; "we will not go of our own will. Take us with dragoons."

But Kmita paid no attention whatever to him, so much was he excited, and so deeply touched.

"You are in love with the sufferings of people," continued he to Olenka, "and you proclaim me a traitor without judgment, without considering a reason, without permitting me to say a word in my own defence. Let it be so. But you will go to Kyedani,--of your own will or against your will; it is all one. There my intentions will become evident; there you will know whether you have justly accused me of wrong, there conscience will tell you who of us was whose executioner. I want no other vengeance. God be with you, but I want that vengeance. And I want nothing more of you, for you have bent the bow to the breaking. There is a serpent under your beauty as under a flower."

"We will not go!" repeated Billevich, still more resolutely.

"As true as life we will not!" shouted Hudzynski and Dovgird.

Kmita turned to them; but he was very pale now, for rage was throttling him, and his teeth chattered as in a fever.

"Ei! Try now to resist! My horses are to be heard,--my dragoons are coming. Will some one say again that he will not go?"

In fact the tramp of numerous horses was heard. All saw that there was no help, and Kmita said,--

"Young lady, within the time that a man could repeat the Lord's Prayer twice you must be in the carriage, or your uncle will have a bullet in his head."

And it was evident that the wild frenzy of anger was taking possession more and more of Pan Andrei, for suddenly he shouted till the panes rattled in the windows, "To the road!"

That same instant the door of the front chamber opened quietly, and some strange voice inquired,--

"To what place, Cavalier?"

All became as stone from amazement, and every eye was turned to the door, in which stood some small man in armor, and with a naked sabre in his hand.

Kmita retreated a step, as if he had seen an apparition. "Pan Volodyovski!" cried he.

"At your service!" answered the little man. And he advanced into the middle of the chamber; after him entered in a crowd Mirski, Zagloba, Pan Yan, Pan Stanislav, Stankyevich, Oskyerko and Roh Kovalski.

"Ha!" cried Zagloba; "the Cossack caught a Tartar, and the Tartar holds him by the head!"

Billevich began to speak: "Whoever you are, gentlemen, save a citizen whom in spite of law, birth, and office they wish to arrest and confine. Save, brothers, the freedom of a noble, whoever you may be."

"Fear not!" answered Volodyovski, "the dragoons of this cavalier are already in fetters, and now he needs rescue himself more than you do."

"But a priest most of all!" added Zagloba.

"Sir Knight," said Volodyovski, turning to Kmita, "you have no luck with me; a second time I stand in your way. You did not expect me?"

"I did not! I thought you were in the hands of the prince."

"I have just slipped out of those hands,--this is the road to Podlyasye. But enough! The first time that you bore away this lady I challenged you to sabres, is it not true?"

"True," answered Kmita, reaching involuntarily to his head.

"Now it is another affair. Then you were given to fighting,--a thing usual with nobles, and not bringing the last infamy. To-day you do not deserve that an honest man should challenge you."

"Why is that?" asked Kmita; and raising his proud head, he looked Volodyovski straight in the eyes.

"You are a traitor and a renegade," answered Volodyovski, "for you have cut down, like an executioner, honest soldiers who stood by their country,--for it is through your work that this unhappy land is groaning under a new yoke. Speaking briefly, prepare for death, for as God is in heaven your last hour has come."

"By what right do you judge and execute me?" inquired Kmita.

"Gracious sir," answered Zagloba, seriously, "say your prayers instead of asking us about a right. But if you have anything to say in your defence, say it quickly, for you will not find a living soul to take your part. Once, as I have heard, this lady here present begged you from the hands of Pan Volodyovski; but after what you have done now, she will surely not take your part."

Here the eyes of all turned involuntarily to Panna Aleksandra, whose face at that moment was as if cut from stone; and she stood motionless, with downcast lids, icy-cold, but she did not advance a step or speak a word.

The voice of Kmita broke the silence--"I do not ask that lady for intercession."

Panna Aleksandra was silent.

"This way!" called Volodyovski, turning toward the door.

Heavy steps were heard, followed by the gloomy rattle of spurs; and six soldiers, with Yuzva Butrym in front, entered the room.

"Take him!" commanded Volodyovski, "lead him outside the village and put a bullet in his head."

The heavy hand of Butrym rested on the collar of Kmita, after that two other hands.

"Do not let them drag me like a dog!" said Kmita to Volodyovski. "I will go myself."

Volodyovski nodded to the soldiers, who released him at once, but surrounded him; and he walked out calmly, not speaking to any man, only whispering his prayers.

Panna Aleksandra went out also, through the opposite door, to the adjoining rooms. She passed the first and the second, stretching out her hand in the darkness before her; suddenly her head whirled, the breath failed in her bosom, and she fell, as if dead, on the floor.

Among those who were assembled in the first room a dull silence reigned for some time; at last Billevich broke it. "Is there no mercy for him?" asked he.

"I am sorry for him," answered Zagloba, "for he went manfully to death."

To which Mirski said, "He shot a number of officers out of my squadron, besides those whom he slew in attack."

"And from mine too," added Stankyevich; "and he cut up almost all of Nyevyarovski's men."

"He must have had orders from Radzivill," said Zagloba.

"Gentlemen," said Billevich, "you bring the vengeance of Radzivill on my head."

"You must flee. We are going to Podlyasye, for there the squadrons have risen against traitors; go with us. There is no other help. You can take refuge in Byalovyej, where a relative of Pan Skshetuski is the king's hunter. There no one will find you."

"But my property will be lost."

"The Commonwealth will restore it to you."

"Pan Michael," said Zagloba, suddenly, "I will gallop off and see if there are not some orders of the hetman on that unfortunate man. You remember what I found on Roh Kovalski."

"Mount a horse. There is time yet; later the papers will be bloody. I ordered them to take him beyond the village, so that the lady might not be alarmed at the rattle of muskets, for women are sensitive and given to fright."

Zagloba went out, and after a while the tramp of the horse on which he rode away was heard. Volodyovski turned to the host.

"What is the lady doing?"

"Beyond doubt she is praying for that soul which must go before God."

"May the Lord give him eternal rest!" said Pan Yan. "Were it not for his willing service with Radzivill, I should be the first to speak in his favor; but if he did not wish to stand by his country, he might at least not have sold his soul to Radzivill."

"That is true!" added Volodyovski.

"He is guilty and deserves what has come upon him," said Pan Stanislav; "but I would that Radzivill were in his place, or Opalinski--oh, Opalinski!"

"Of how far he is guilty, you have best proof here," put in Oskyerko; "this lady, who was his betrothed, did not find a word in his favor. I saw clearly that she was in torment, but she was silent; for how could she take the part of a traitor."

"She loved him once sincerely, I know that," said Billevich. "Permit me, gentlemen, to go and see what has befallen her, as this is a grievous trial for a woman."

"Make ready for the road!" cried the little knight, "for we shall merely give rest to the horses. We move farther. Kyedani is too near this place, and Radzivill must have returned already."

"Very well!" said the noble, and he left the room.

After a while his piercing cry was heard. The knights sprang toward the sound, not knowing what had happened; the servants also ran in with the lights, and they saw Billevich raising Olenka, whom he had found lying senseless on the floor.

Volodyovski sprang to help him, and together they placed her on the sofa. She gave no sign of life. They began to rub her. The old housekeeper ran in with cordials, and at last the young lady opened her eyes.

"Nothing is the matter," said the old housekeeper; "go ye to that room, we will take care of her."

Billevich conducted his guests. "Would that this had not happened!" said the anxious host. "Could you not take that unfortunate with you, and put him out of the way somewhere on the road, and not on my place? How can I travel now, how flee, when the young woman is barely alive, on the brink of serious illness?"

"The illness is all over now," answered Volodyovski. "We will put the lady in a carriage; you must both flee, for the vengeance of Radzivill spares no man."

"The lady may recover quickly," said Pan Yan.

"A comfortable carriage is ready, with horses attached, for Kmita brought it with him," said Volodyovski. "Go and tell the lady how things are, and that it is impossible to delay flight. Let her collect her strength. We must go, for before to-morrow morning Radzivill's troops may be here."

"True," answered Billevich; "I go!"

He went, and after a while returned with his niece, who had not only collected her strength, but was already dressed for the road. She had a high color on her face, and her eyes were gleaming feverishly.

"Let us go, let us go!" repeated she, entering the room.

Volodyovski went out on the porch for a moment to send men for the carriage; then he returned, and all began to make ready for the road.

Before a quarter of an hour had passed, the roll of wheels was heard outside the windows, and the stamping of horses' hoofs on the pavement with which the space before the entrance was covered.

"Let us go!" said Olenka.

"To the road!" cried the officers.

That moment the door was thrown open, and Zagloba burst into the room like a bomb.

"I have stopped the execution!" cried he.

Olenka from being ruddy became in one moment as white as chalk; she seemed ready to faint again; but no one paid attention to her, for all eyes were turned on Zagloba, who was panting like a whale, trying to catch breath.

"Have you stopped the execution?" inquired Volodyovski. "Why was that?"

"Why?--Let me catch breath. This is why,--without Kmita, without that honorable cavalier, we should all of us be hanging on trees at Kyedani. Uf! we wanted to kill our benefactor, gentlemen! Uf!"

"How can that be?" cried all, at once.

"How can it be? Read this letter; in it is the answer."

Here Zagloba gave a letter to Volodyovski. He began to read, stopping every moment and looking at his comrades; for it was in fact the letter in which Radzivill reproached Kmita bitterly because by his stubborn persistence he had freed the colonels and Zagloba from death at Kyedani.

"Well, what do you think?" repeated Zagloba, at each interval.

The letter ended, as we know, with the commission for Kmita to bring Billevich and his niece to Kyedani. Pan Andrei had the letter with him, apparently to show it to the sword-bearer in case of necessity, and it had not come to that.

Above all there remained no shadow of doubt that but for Kmita the two Skshetuskis, Volodyovski, and Zagloba would have been killed without mercy in Kyedani, immediately after the famous treaty with Pontus de la Gardie.

"Worthy gentlemen," said Zagloba, "if you wish now to shoot him, as God is dear to me, I will leave your company and know you no longer."

"There is nothing more to be said here!" replied Volodyovski.

"Ah!" said Skshetuski, seizing his head with both hands, "what a happiness that father read that letter at once, instead of bringing it to us!"

"They must have fed you with starlings from childhood!" cried Mirski.

"Ha! what do you say to that?" asked Zagloba. "Every one else would have put a bullet in his head. But the moment they brought me the paper which they found on him, something touched me, because I have by nature a universal curiosity. Two men were going ahead of me with lanterns, and they were already in the field. Said I to them, 'Give me light here; let me know what is in this!' I began to read. I tell you, gentlemen, there was darkness before me as if some man had thumped my bald head with his fist. 'In God's name!' said I, 'why did you not show this letter?' And he answered, 'Because it did not suit me!' Such a haughty fellow, even at the point of death! But didn't I seize him, embrace him? 'Benefactor,' cried I, 'without you the crows would have eaten us already!' I gave orders to bring him back and lead him here; and I almost drove the breath out of the horse to tell you what had happened as quickly as possible. Uf!"

"That is a wonderful man, in whom it is clear as much good as evil resides," said Pan Stanislav. "If such would not--"

But before he had finished, the door opened and the soldiers came in with Kmita.

"You are free," said Volodyovski, at once; "and while we are alive none of us will attack you. What a desperate man you are, not to show us that letter immediately! We would not have disturbed you."

Here he turned to the soldiers: "Withdraw, and every man to horse!"

The soldiers withdrew, and Pan Andrei remained alone in the middle of the room. He had a calm face; but it was gloomy, and he looked at the officers standing before him, not without pride.

"You are free!" repeated Volodyovski; "go whithersoever you please, even to Radzivill, though it is painful to see a man of honorable blood aiding a traitor to his country."

"Reflect well," answered Kmita, "for I say beforehand that I shall go nowhere else but to Radzivill."

"Join us; let the thunderbolt crush that tyrant of Kyedani!" cried Zagloba. "You will be to us a friend and dear comrade; the country, your mother, will forgive your offences against her."

"It is no use," said Kmita, with energy. "God will decide who serves the country better,--you who begin civil war on your own responsibility, or I, serving a lord who alone can save this ill-fated Commonwealth. Go your own way, I will go mine. It is not time to convert you, and the attempt is vain; but I tell you from the depth of my soul that you are ruining the country,--you who stand in the way of its salvation. I do not call you traitors, for I know that your intentions are honorable; but this is the position,--the country is perishing, Radzivill stretches a hand to it, and you thrust swords into that hand, and in blindness make traitors of him and all those who stand by him."

"As God is true!" said Zagloba, "if I had not seen how manfully you went to meet death, I should think that terror had disturbed your mind. To whom have you given oath,--to Radzivill or Yan Kazimir, to Sweden or the Commonwealth? You have lost your wits!"

"I knew that it would be vain to attempt to convert you. Farewell!"

"But wait," said Zagloba; "for here is a question of importance. Tell me, did Radzivill promise that he would spare us when you interceded for us in Kyedani?"

"He did," said Kmita. "You were to remain during the war in Birji."

"Know now your Radzivill, who betrays not only the country, not only the king, but his own servants." When he had said this, Zagloba gave the hetman's letter to Kmita. He took it, and began to run over it with his eyes; and as he read, the blood came to his face, and a blush of shame for his own leader covered his forehead more and more. All at once he crushed the letter in his hand, and threw it on the floor.

"Farewell!" said he. "Better I had perished at your hands!" and he went out of the room.

"Gentlemen," said Pan Yan, after a moment's silence, "an affair with that man is difficult, for he believes in his Radzivill as a Turk in Mohammed. I thought myself, as you do, that he was serving him for profit or ambition, but that is not the case. He is not a bad man, only an erring one."

"If he has had faith in his Mohammed hitherto, I have undermined that faith infernally," said Zagloba. "Did you see how he threw down the letter as soon as he had read it? There will be no small work between them, for that cavalier is ready to spring at the eyes, not only of Radzivill, but the devil. As God is dear to me, if a man had given me a herd of Turkish horses I should not be so well pleased as I am at having saved him from death."

"It is true he owes his life to you," said Billevich; "no one will deny that."

"God be with him!" said Volodyovski; "let us take counsel what to do."

"But what? Mount and take the road; the horses have rested a little," answered Zagloba.

"True, we should go as quickly as possible! Are you going with us?" asked Mirski of the sword-bearer.

"I cannot remain here in peace, I must go. But if you wish to take the road at once, gentlemen, I say sincerely that it is not convenient to tear away now with you. Since that man has left here alive, they will not burn me up immediately, neither will they kill any one; and before such a journey it is necessary to provide one's self with this thing and that. God knows when I shall return. It is necessary to make one arrangement and another,--to secrete the most valuable articles, send my cattle to the neighbors, pack trunks. I have also a little ready money which I would take with me. I shall be ready to-morrow at daybreak; but to go now, in seize-grab fashion, I cannot."

"On our part we cannot wait, for the sword is hanging over our heads," said Volodyovski. "And where do you wish to take refuge?"

"In the wilderness, as you advised. At least, I shall leave the maiden there; for I am not yet old, and my poor sabre may be of use to the country and the king."

"Farewell! God grant us to meet in better times!"

"God reward you, gentlemen, for coming to rescue me. Doubtless we shall see one another in the field."

"Good health!"

"Happy journey!"

They began to take farewell of one another, and then each came to bow down before Panna Billevich.

"You will see my wife and little boys in the wilderness: embrace them for me, and bloom in good health," said Pan Yan.

"Remember at times the soldier, who, though he had no success in your eyes, is always glad to bend the skies for you."

After them others approached, and last Zagloba.

"Receive, charming flower, farewell from an old man too. Embrace Pani Skshetuski and my little stumps. They are boys in a hundred!"

Instead of an answer, Olenka seized his hand, and pressed it in silence to her lips.

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Chapter XXII

That night, at the latest two hours after the departure of Volodyovski's detachment, Radzivill himself came to Billeviche at the head of his cavalry. He came to the assistance of Kmita, fearing lest he might fall into the hands of Volodyovski. When he learned what had happened he took the sword-bearer and Olenka and returned to Kyedani, without even giving rest to the horses.

The hetman was enraged beyond measure when he heard the story from the mouth of the sword-bearer, who told everything in detail, wishing to turn from himself the attention of the terrible magnate. He dared not protest, for the same reason, against the journey to Kyedani, and was glad in his soul that the storm ended thus. Radzivill, on his part, though suspecting Billevich of "practices" (conspiracy), had in fact too many cares to remember the matter at that moment.

The escape of Volodyovski might change affairs in Podlyasye. Horotkyevich and Yakub Kmita, who were there at the head of squadrons confederated against the hetman, were good soldiers, but not important; hence the whole confederacy had no weight. But now with Volodyovski had fled such men as Mirski, Stankyevich, and Oskyerko, without counting the little knight himself,--all excellent officers, enjoying universal respect.

But in Podlyasye was Prince Boguslav also, who with the castle squadrons was opposing the confederates, waiting meanwhile for aid from his uncle the elector; but the elector delayed, evidently waiting for events; and the confederated forces were gaining strength, and adherents came to them every day.

For some time the hetman had been wishing to march to Podlyasye himself, and crush the insurgents with one blow, but he was restrained by the thought that let him set foot over the boundary of Jmud the whole country would rise, and the importance of the Radzivills be reduced in the eyes of the Swedes to zero. The prince was meditating whether it were not better to abandon Podlyasye altogether for the time, and bring Prince Boguslav to Jmud.

That was necessary and urgent. On the other hand threatening news came touching the deeds of the voevoda of Vityebsk. The hetman had tried to negotiate and bring him over to his plans, but Sapyeha sent back the letters unanswered; and besides, as report said, the voevoda was selling his effects at auction, disposing of what he could, melting silver into coin, selling his cattle for ready money, pawning tapestry and valuables to the Jews, renting his lands and collecting troops.

The hetman, greedy by nature and incapable of making sacrifices of money, refused to believe, at first, that any man would cast his whole fortune without hesitation on the altar of the country; but time convinced him that this was really the case, for Sapyeha's military power increased daily. Fugitives, settled nobles, patriots gathered around him,--enemies of the hetman, and still worse, his blood relatives, such as Prince Michael Radzivill, of whom news came that he had ordered all the income of his estates still unoccupied by the enemy to be given to the voevoda of Vityebsk.

In this way then did the edifice, built by the pride of Yanush Radzivill, crack from its foundations and totter. The whole Commonwealth was to find a place in that edifice, but now it appeared in advance that it could not contain even Jmud.

The condition was becoming more and more like a vicious circle; for Radzivill might summon against the voevoda of Vityebsk Swedish forces which were occupying the country by degrees, but that would be to acknowledge his own weakness. Besides, the relations of the hetman with the generalissimo of the Swedes were strained since the affair at Klavany, thanks to the plan of Zagloba; and in spite of all explanations, irritation and distrust reigned between them.

The hetman, when setting out to aid Kmita, had hope that perhaps he might yet seize Volodyovski and destroy him; therefore, when his reckoning was at fault, he returned to Kyedani angry and frowning. It astonished him too that he did not meet Kmita on the road to Billeviche; this happened because Pan Andrei, whose dragoons Volodyovski did not fail to take with him, returned alone, and therefore chose the shortest road through the forest, avoiding Plemborg and Eyragoly.

After a night spent entirely on horseback the hetman came back to Kyedani on the following day at noon with his troops, and his first question was about Kmita. He was informed that Pan Andrei had returned, but without soldiers. Of that last circumstance the prince knew already; but he was curious to hear from the lips of Kmita himself the story, therefore he gave command to call him at once.

"There was no success for you, as there was none for me," said he, when Kmita stood before him. "The sword-bearer told me that you fell into the hands of that little devil."

"That is true," answered Kmita.

"And my letter saved you?"

"Of what letter are you speaking, your highness? For when they had read themselves the one found on me, they read to me in return another letter, written to the commandant of Birji."

The gloomy face of Radzivill was covered as it were with a bloody skin. "Then do you know?"

"I know!" answered Kmita, emphatically. "Your highness, how could you act so with me? For a common noble it is a shame to break his word, but what is it for a prince and a leader?"

"Silence!" cried Radzivill.

"I will not be silent, for before the eyes of those men I had to take your place. They were urging me to join them; but I would not, and said, 'I serve Radzivill; for with him is justice, with him virtue.' Then they showed me that letter: 'See what a man your Radzivill is!' I had to shut my mouth and gulp shame."

The hetman's lips began to quiver from fury. A wild desire seized him to wring that insolent head from its shoulders, and he was already raising his hands to clap for the servants. Rage closed his eyes, stopped the breath in his breast; and surely Kmita would have paid dearly for his outburst were it not for the sudden attack of asthma which at that moment seized the prince. His face grew black, he sprang up from the chair and began to beat the air with his hands, his eyes were coming out of his head, and from his throat rose a hoarse bellow, in which Kmita barely heard the word, "Choking!"

At the alarm the servants and the castle physicians ran in. They tried to restore the prince, who had lost consciousness. They roused him in about an hour; and when he showed signs of life Kmita left the room.

In the corridor he met Kharlamp, who had recovered from the wounds and bruises received in the battle with Oskyerko's insurgent Hungarians.

"What news?" asked Great Mustache.

"He has come to himself," answered Kmita.

"H'm! But any day he may not come! Bad for us, Colonel; for when the prince dies they will grind out his deeds on us. My whole hope is in Volodyovski. I trust that he will shield his old comrades; therefore I tell you" (here Kharlamp lowered his voice) "that I am glad he escaped."

"Was he cornered so closely, then?"

"What, cornered! From that willow grove in which we surrounded him wolves could not have sprung out, and he sprang out. May the bullets strike him! Who knows, who knows that we shall not have to grasp hold of his skirts, for there is something bad about us here. The nobles are turning away terribly from our prince, and all say that they would rather have a real enemy, a Swede, even a Tartar, than a renegade. That is the position. And, besides, the prince gives more and more orders to seize and imprison citizens,--which, speaking between us, is against law and liberty. To-day they brought in the sword-bearer of Rossyeni."

"Have they indeed?"

"Yes, with his niece. The lady is a beauty. You are to be congratulated!"

"Where are they lodged?"

"In the right wing. Five rooms are assigned them; they cannot complain, unless of this,--that a guard walks before their doors. And when will the wedding be, Colonel?"

"The music is not yet engaged for it. Farewell!" added Kmita.

Pan Andrei went from Kharlamp to his own room. A sleepless night with its stormy events, and his last meeting with the prince had wearied him to such a degree that he was barely able to stand. And as every touch causes pain to a wearied, bruised body, so had he a soul full of anguish. Kharlamp's simple question 'When will the wedding be?' pierced him sorely; for before his eyes at once appeared, as if alive, the icy face of Olenka, and her fixed lips when their silence confirmed the death-sentence against him. Even a word from her would have saved him. Volodyovski would have respected it. All the sorrow and pain which Kmita felt at that moment consisted in this, that she did not say that word. Still she had not hesitated to save him twice before. Such now was the precipice between them, so utterly quenched in her heart was not merely love, but simple kind feeling, which it was possible to have even for a stranger,--simple pity, which it is incumbent to have for every one. The more Kmita thought over this, the more cruel did Olenka seem to him, the greater his complaint against her, and the deeper his wrong. "What have I done of such character," asked he of himself, "that I am scorned, like one cursed by the church? Even if it were evil to serve Radzivill, still I feel innocent, since I can answer on my conscience, that not for promotion, not for gain, nor for bread do I serve him, but because I see profit to the country from my service. Why am I condemned without trial? Well, well! Let it be so! I will not go to clear myself of uncommitted offences, nor to beg love," repeated he for the thousandth time.

Still the pain did not cease; it increased. On returning to his quarters Pan Andrei cast himself on the bed and tried to sleep; but he could not, despite all his weariness. After a while he rose and began to walk through the room. From time to time he raised his hands to his forehead and said aloud to himself,--

"Oh, the heart of that woman is hard!"

And again,--

"I did not expect that of you, young lady,--May God reward you!"

In these meditations an hour passed, and a second. At last he tired himself out and began to doze, sitting on the bed; but before he fell asleep an attendant of Radzivill, Pan Skillandz, roused him and summoned him to the prince.

Radzivill felt better already, and breathed more freely, but on his leaden face could be seen a great weakening. He sat in a deep armchair, covered with leather, having before him a physician whom he sent out immediately after Kmita entered.

"I had one foot in the other world and through you," said he to Pan Andrei.

"Your highness, it was not my fault; I said what I thought."

"Let no further mention be made of this. But do not add to the weight of the burden which I bear; and know this, that what I have forgiven you I would not forgive another."

Kmita was silent.

"If I gave order," added the prince, after a while, "to execute in Birji these men whom at your request I pardoned in Kyedani, it was not because I wanted to deceive you, but to spare you pain. I yielded apparently, because I have a weakness for you. But their death was imperative. Am I an executioner, or do you think that I spill blood merely to feast my eyes on red? But when older you will know that if a man would achieve anything in this world, he is not free to sacrifice great causes to smaller. It was imperative that these men should die here in Kyedani, for see what has happened through your prayers: resistance is increased in the country, civil war begun, friendship with the Swedes is strained, an evil example given to others, from which mutiny is spreading like a plague. More than this, I had to go on a later expedition in my own person, and be filled with confusion in the presence of the whole army; you came near death at their hands, and now they will go to Podlyasye and become chiefs of an uprising. Behold and learn! If they had perished in Kyedani, nothing of all this would have happened; but when imploring for them you were thinking only of your own feelings. I sent them to die at Birji, for I am experienced, I see farther; for I know from practice that whoso in running stumbles, even against a small stone, will easily fall, and whoso falls may not rise again, and the faster he was running the less likely is he to rise. God save us, what harm these people have done!"

"They are not so important as to undo the whole work of your highness."

"Had they done no more than rouse distrust between me and Pontus, the harm would be incalculable. It has been explained that they, not my men, attacked the Swedes; but the letter with threats which Pontus wrote to me remains, and I do not forgive him that letter. Pontus is brother-in-law of the king, but it is doubtful whether he could become mine, and whether the Radzivill thresholds are not too high for him."

"Let your highness treat with the king himself, and not with his servant."

"So I intend to do; and if vexation does not kill me I will teach that little Swede modesty,--if troubles do not kill me; and would that that were all, for no one here spares me thorns or pain. It is grievous to me, grievous! Who would believe that I am the man who was at Loyovo, Jechytsa, Mozyr, Turoff, Kieff, Berestechko? The whole Commonwealth gazed at me and Vishnyevetski, as at two suns. Everything trembled before Hmelnitski, but he trembled before me. And the very men whom in time of universal disaster I led from victory to victory, forsake me to-day and raise their hands against me as against a parricide."

"But all are not thus, for there are some who believe in your highness yet," said Kmita, abruptly.

"They believe till they stop," added Radzivill, with bitterness. "Great is the love of the nobles! God grant that I be not poisoned by it! Stab after stab does each one of you give me, though it occurs not to any that--"

"Consider intentions, not words, your highness."

"I give thanks for the counsel. Henceforth I will consider carefully what face each common man shows me, and endeavor with care to please all."

"Those are bitter words, your highness."

"But is life sweet? God created me for great things, and look at me; I must wear out my powers in district struggles, which village might wage against village. I wanted to measure myself with mighty monarchs, and I have fallen so low that I must hunt some Volodyovski through my own estates. Instead of astonishing the world with my power, I astonish it with my weakness; instead of paying for the ashes of Vilna with the ashes of Moscow, I have to thank you for digging trenches around Kyedani. Oh, it is narrow for me, and I am choking,--not alone because the asthma is throttling me; helplessness is killing me, inactivity is killing me! It is narrow for me and heavy for me! Do you understand?"

"I thought myself that affairs would go differently," answered Kmita, gloomily.

Radzivill began to breathe with effort.

"Before another crown can come to me they have crowned me with thorns. I commanded the minister, Aders, to look at the stars. He made a figure and said that the conjunctions were evil, but that they would pass. Meanwhile I am suffering torments. In the night there is something which will not let me sleep; something walks in the room, faces of some kind stare at me in the bed, and at times a sudden cold comes. This means that death is walking around me. I am suffering. I must be prepared for more treason and apostasy, for I know that there are men still who waver."

"There are no longer such," answered Kmita, "for whoso was to go has gone."

"Do not deceive yourself; you see that the remnant of the Polish people are beginning to take thought."

Kmita remembered what he had heard from Kharlamp and was silent.

"Never mind!" continued Radzivill, "it is oppressive and terrible, but it is necessary to endure. Tell no one of what you have heard from me. It is well that this attack came to-day, for it will not be repeated; and especially to-day I need strength, for I wish to have a feast, and show a glad face to strengthen the courage of people. And do you brighten your face and tell nothing to any man, for what I say to you is for this purpose only, that you at least refrain from tormenting me. Anger carried me away to-day. Be careful that this happen not again, for it is a question of your head. But I have forgiven you. Of those trenches with which you surrounded Kyedani, Peterson himself would not be ashamed. Go now and send me Myeleshko. They have brought in deserters from his squadron,--common soldiers. I shall order them hanged to a man. We need to give an example. Farewell! It must be joyful to-day in Kyedani."

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Chapter XXIII

The sword-bearer of Rossyeni had a difficult struggle with Panna Aleksandra before she consented to go to that feast which the hetman had prepared for his people. He had to implore almost with tears the stubborn, bold girl, and swear that it was a question of his head; that all, not only the military, but citizens dwelling in the region of Kyedani, as far as Radzivill's hand reached, were obliged to appear under terror of the prince's wrath: how then could they oppose who were subject to the favor and disfavor of the terrible man? Olenka, not to endanger her uncle, gave way.

The company was really not small, for he had forced many of the surrounding nobles to come with their wives and daughters. But the military were in the majority, and especially officers of the foreign regiments, who remained nearly all with the prince. Before he showed himself to the guests he prepared an affable countenance, as if no care had weighed on him previously; he wished with that banquet to rouse courage, not only in his adherents and the military, but to show that most of the citizens were on his side, and only turbulent people opposed the union with Sweden. He did not spare therefore trouble or outlay to make the banquet lordly, that the echo of it might spread as widely as possible through the land. Barely had darkness covered the country when hundreds of barrels were set on fire along the road leading to the castle and in the courtyard; from time to time cannons were thundering, and soldiers were ordered to give forth joyous shouts.

Carriages and covered wagons followed one another on the road, bringing personages of the neighborhood and the "cheaper" (smaller) nobility. The courtyard was filled with equipages, horses, and servants, who had either come with guests or belonged to the town. Crowds dressed in velvet, brocade, and costly furs filled the so-called "Golden Hall;" and when the prince appeared at last, all glittering from precious stones, and with a welcoming smile on his face, usually gloomy, and besides wrinkled at that time by sickness, the first officers shouted in one voice,--

"Long live the prince hetman! Long live the voevoda of Vilna!"

Radzivill cast his eyes suddenly on the assembled citizens, wishing to convince himself whether they repeated the cries of the soldiers. In fact a few tens of voices from the most timid breasts repeated the cry; the prince on his part began at once to bow, and to thank them for the sincere and "unanimous" love.

"With you, gracious gentlemen!" said he, "we will manage those who would destroy the country. God reward you! God reward you!"

And he went around through the hall, stopped before acquaintances, not sparing titles in his speech,--"Lord brother," "dear neighbor;" and more than one gloomy face grew bright under the warm rays of the magnate's favor.

"But it is not possible," said those who till recently looked on his deeds with dislike, "that such a lord, such a lofty senator should wish ill to his country; either he could not act differently from what he has acted, or there is some secret in this, which will come out for the good of the Commonwealth."

"In fact, we have more rest already from one enemy who does not wish to light about us with the Swedes."

"God grant that all turn out for the best."

Some, however, shook their heads, or said with a look to one another, "We are here because they put the knife to our throats."

But these were silent; meanwhile others, more easily brought over, said in loud voices, to be heard by the prince,--

"It is better to change the king than ruin the Commonwealth."

"Let the kingdom think of itself, but we will think of ourselves."

"Besides, who has given us an example, if not Great Poland? Extrema necessitas, extremis nititur rationibus! Tentanda omnia!"

"Let us put all confidence in our prince, and trust him in everything. Let him have Lithuania and the government in his hands."

"He deserves both. If he will not save us, we perish,--in him is salvation."

"He is nearer to us than Yan Kazimir, for he is our blood."

Radzivill caught with an eager ear those voices, dictated by fear or flattery, and did not consider that they came from the mouths of weak persons, who in danger would be the first to desert him,--from the mouths of persons whom every breath of wind might bend as a wave. And he was charmed with those expressions, and tempted himself, or his own conscience, repeating from the maxims he had heard that which seemed to excuse him the most: "Extrema necessitas, extremis nititur rationibus!"

But when passing a large group of nobles he heard from the lips of Pan Yujits, "He is nearer to us than Yan Kazimir," his face grew bright altogether. To compare him with the king, and then to prefer him, flattered his pride; he approached Pan Yujits at once and said,--

"You are right, brothers, for in Yan Kazimir, in one pot of blood there is a quart of Lithuanian, but in me there is nothing but Lithuanian. If hitherto the quart has commanded the potful, it depends on you, brothers, to change that condition."

"We are ready to drink a potful to your health," answered Pan Yujits.

"You have struck my mind. Rejoice, brothers; I would gladly invite hither all Lithuania."

"It would have to be trimmed still better," said Pan Shchanyetski of Dalnovo,--a bold man, and cutting with the tongue as with the sword.

"What do you mean by that?" asked the prince, fixing his eyes on him.

"That the heart of your highness is wider than Kyedani."

Radzivill gave a forced laugh and went farther.

At this moment the marshal of the castle approached him with the announcement that the banquet was ready. Crowds began to flow, like a river, after the prince to the same hall in which not long before the union with Sweden was declared. The marshal seated the guests according to dignity, calling each one by name and rank. But it was evident that the orders of the prince had been issued in advance on this point, for Kmita's place was between Billevich and Panna Aleksandra.

The hearts jumped in both when they heard their names called in succession, and both hesitated at the first moment; but it occurred to them that to refuse would be to draw on themselves the eyes of all present, therefore they sat side by side. They were angry and ill at ease. Pan Andrei determined to be as indifferent as if a stranger were sitting next him; but soon he understood that he could not be so indifferent, and that his neighbor was not such a stranger that they could begin an ordinary conversation. But both saw that in that throng of persons of the most varied feelings, interests, and passions, he thinks only of her and she of him. For this very reason it was awkward for them. They would not and could not tell sincerely, clearly, and openly, what lay on their hearts. They had the past, but no future. Recent feelings, confidence, even acquaintance, were all broken. There was nothing between them save the feeling of disappointment and offence. If this link should burst, they would be freer; but time only could bring forgetfulness: it was too soon for that.

For Kmita it was so disagreeable that he almost suffered torments; still he would not have yielded, for anything in the world, the place which the marshal had given him. He caught with his ear the rustle of her dress; he watched every movement of hers,--he watched while feigning not to watch; he felt the warmth beating from her, and all this caused him a certain painful delight.

At the same moment he discovered that she too was equally on the alert, though she was as if not paying attention. An unconquerable desire of looking at her drew him on; therefore he glanced sidewise, until he saw her clear forehead, her eyes covered with dark lashes, and her fair face, not touched by paint, as were those of other ladies. For him there had always been something attractive in that face, so that the heart in the poor knight was shivering from sorrow and pain. "To think that such animosity could find a place with such beauty," thought he. But the offence was too deep; hence he added soon in his soul, "I have nothing to do with you; let some other man take you."

And he felt suddenly that if that "other" were merely to try to make use of the permission, he would cut him into pieces as small as chopped straw. At the very thought terrible anger seized him; but he calmed himself when he remembered that he was still alone, that no "other" was sitting near her, and that no one, at least at that moment, was trying to win her.

"I will look at her once more and turn to the other side," thought he.

And again he cast a sidelong glance; but just at that moment she did the same, and both dropped their eyes with all quickness, terribly confused, as if they had been caught in a crime.

Panna Aleksandra too was struggling with herself. From all that had happened, from the action of Kmita at Billeviche, from the words of Zagloba and Pan Yan, she learned that Kmita erred, but that he was not so guilty and did not deserve such contempt, such unreserved condemnation, as she had thought previously. Besides, he had saved those worthy men from death, and there was so much in him of a certain grand pride that when he had fallen into their hands, having a letter on his person sufficient to vindicate him, or at least to save him from execution, he did not show that letter, he said not a word, but went to death with head erect.

Olenka, reared by an old soldier who placed contempt for death above all virtues, worshipped courage with her whole heart; therefore she could not resist an involuntary admiration for that stern knightly daring which could be driven from the body only with the soul.

She understood also that if Kmita served Radzivill he did so in perfect good faith; what a wrong therefore to condemn him for intentional treason! And still she had put that wrong on him, she had spared him neither injustice nor contempt, she would not forgive him even in the face of death.

"Right the wrong," said her heart; "all is finished between you, but it is thy duty to confess that thou hast judged him unjustly. In this is thy duty to thyself also."

But there was in this lady no little pride, and perhaps something of stubbornness; therefore it came at once to her mind that that cavalier was not worth such satisfaction, and a flush came to her face.

"If he is not worth it, let him go without it," said her mind.

But conscience said further that whether the injured one is worth satisfaction or not, it is needful to give it; but on the other side her pride brought forth continually new arguments,--

"If--which might be--he was unwilling to listen, she would have to swallow her shame for nothing. And secondly, guilty or not guilty, whether he acts purposely or through blindness, it is enough that he holds with traitors and enemies of the country, and helps them to ruin it. It is the same to the country whether he lacks reason or honesty. God may forgive him; men must and ought to condemn, and the name of traitor will remain with him. That is true! If he is not guilty, is she not right in despising a man who has not the wit to distinguish wrong from right, crime from virtue?"

Here anger began to carry the lady away, and her cheeks flushed.

"I will be silent!" said she to herself. "Let him suffer what he has deserved. Until I see penitence I have the right to condemn him."

Then she turned her glance to Kmita, as if wishing to be convinced whether penitence was yet to be seen in his face. Just then it was that the meeting of their eyes took place, at which both were so shame-stricken.

Olenka, it may be, did not see penitence in the face of the cavalier, but she saw pain and suffering; she saw that face pale as after sickness; therefore deep pity seized her, tears came perforce to her eyes, and she bent still more over the table to avoid betraying emotion.

Meanwhile the banquet was becoming animated. At first all were evidently under a disagreeable impression, but with the cups came fancy. The bustle increased. At last the prince rose,--

"Gracious gentlemen, I ask leave to speak."

"The prince wishes to speak! The prince wishes to speak!" was called from every side.

"I raise the first toast to the Most Serene King of Sweden, who gives us aid against our enemies, and ruling meanwhile this country, will not leave it till he brings peace. Arise, gentlemen, for that health is drunk standing."

The guests rose, except ladies, and filled their glasses, but without shouts, without enthusiasm. Pan Shchanyetski of Dalnovo muttered something to his neighbors, and they bit their mustaches to avoid laughter. It was evident that he was jeering at the King of Sweden.

It was only when the prince raised the other toast to his "beloved guests" kind to Kyedani, who had come even from distant places to testify their confidence in the intentions of the host, that they answered him with a loud shout,--

"We thank you from our hearts!"

"The health of the prince!"

"Our Hector of Lithuania!"

"May he live! Long life to the prince hetman, our voevoda."

Now Pan Yujits, a little drunk already, cried with all the strength of his lungs, "Long life to Yanush I., Grand Prince of Lithuania!"

Radzivill blushed like a young lady at her betrothal, but remarking that those assembled were stubbornly silent and looking at him with astonishment, he said,--

"That is in your power; but your wishes are premature, Pan Yujits, premature."

"Long live Yanush I., Grand Prince of Lithuania!" repeated Pan Yujits, with the stubbornness of a drunken man.

Pan Shchanyetski rose in his turn and raised his glass. "True," said he, coolly, "Grand Prince of Lithuania, King of Poland, and Emperor of Germany!"

Again an interval of silence. Suddenly the company burst out into laughter. All were staring, their mustaches were dancing on their reddened faces, and laughter shook their bodies, echoed from the arches of the hall, and lasted long; and as suddenly as it rose so suddenly did it die on the lips of all at sight of the hetman's face, which was changing like a rainbow.

Radzivill restrained the terrible anger which had seized his breast and said, "Low jests, Pan Shchanyetski."

The noble pouted, and not at all disconcerted answered: "That also is an elective throne, and we cannot wish your highness too much. If as a noble your highness may become King of Poland, as a prince of the Gorman Empire you might be raised to the dignity of Emperor. It is as far or near for you to the one as to the other; and who does not wish this to you, let him rise. I will meet him with the sabre." Here he turned to the company: "Rise, whoso does not wish the crown of the German Empire to the voevoda of Vilna!"

Of course no one rose. They did not laugh either, for in the voice of Pan Shchanyetski there was so much insolent malice that an involuntary disquiet came upon all as to what would happen.

Nothing happened, save that relish for the banquet was spoiled. In vain did the servants of the castle fill the glasses every moment. Wine could not scatter gloomy thoughts in the minds of the banqueters, nor the disquiet increasing every moment. Radzivill concealed his anger with difficulty, for he felt that, thanks to the toasts of Pan Shchanyetski, he was belittled in the eyes of the assembled nobles, and that, intentionally or not, that man had forced the conviction on those present that the voevoda of Vilna was no nearer the throne of grand prince than the crown of Germany. Everything was turned into jests, into ridicule, while the banquet was given mainly to accustom men's minds to the coming rule of the Radzivills. What is more, Radzivill was concerned lest this ridicule of his hopes should make a bad impression on the officers, admitted to the secret of his plans. In fact, deep dissatisfaction was depicted on their faces.

Ganhoff filled glass after glass, and avoided the glance of the prince. Kmita, however, did not drink, but looked at the table before him with frowning brow, as if he were thinking of something, or lighting an internal battle. Radzivill trembled at the thought that a light might flash into that mind any moment, and bring forth truth from the shadows, and then that officer, who furnished the single link binding the remnants of the Polish squadrons with the cause of Radzivill, would break the link, even if he had at the same time to drag the heart out of his own breast.

Kmita had annoyed Radzivill already over much; and without the marvellous significance given him by events, he would long since have fallen a victim to his own impetuosity and the wrath of the hetman. But the prince was mistaken in suspecting him of a hostile turn of thought, for Pan Andrei was occupied wholly with Olenka and that deep dissension which separated them.

At times it seemed to him that he loved that woman sitting at his side beyond the whole world; then again he felt such hatred that he would give death to her if he could but give it to himself as well.

Life had become so involved that for his simple nature it was too difficult, and he felt what a wild beast feels when entangled in a net from which it cannot escape.

The unquiet and gloomy humor of the whole banquet irritated him in the highest degree. It was simply unendurable.

The banquet became more gloomy every moment. It seemed to those present that they were feasting under a leaden roof resting on their heads.

At that time a new guest entered the hall. The prince, seeing him, exclaimed,--

"That is Pan Suhanyets, from Cousin Boguslav! Surely with letters!"

The newly arrived bowed profoundly. "True, Most Serene Prince, I come straight from Podlyasye."

"But give me the letters, and sit at the table yourself. The worthy guests will pardon me if I do not defer the reading, though we are sitting at a banquet, for there may be news which I shall need to impart to you. Sir Marshal, pray think of the welcome envoy there."

Speaking thus, he took from the hands of Pan Suhanyets a package of letters, and broke the seal of the first in haste.

All present fixed curious eyes on his face, and tried to divine the substance of the letter. The first letter did not seem to announce anything favorable, for the face of the prince was filled with blood, and his eyes gleamed with wild anger.

"Brothers!" said the hetman, "Prince Boguslav reports to me that those men who have chosen to form a confederation rather than march against the enemy at Vilna, are ravaging at this moment my villages in Podlyasye. It is easier of course to wage war with peasant women in villages. Worthy knights, there is no denying that!--Never mind! Their reward will not miss them."

Then he took the second letter, but had barely cast his eyes on it when his face brightened with a smile of triumph and delight,--

"The province of Syeradz has yielded to the Swedes!" cried he, "and following Great Poland, has accepted the protection of Karl Gustav."

And after a while another,--

"This is the latest dispatch. Good for us, worthy gentlemen, Yan Kazimir is beaten at Vidava and Jarnov. The army is leaving him! He is retreating on Cracow; the Swedes are pursuing. My cousin writes that Cracow too must fall."

"Let us rejoice, gracious gentlemen," said Shchanyetski, with a strange voice.

"Yes, let us rejoice!" repeated the hetman, without noticing the tone in which Shchanyetski had spoken. And delight issued from the whole person of the prince, his face became in one moment as it were younger, his eyes gained lustre; with hands trembling from happiness, he broke the seal of the last letter, looked, became all radiant as the sun, and cried,--

"Warsaw is taken! Long life to Karl Gustav!"

Here he first noticed that the impression which these tidings produced on those present was entirely different from that which he felt himself. For all sat in silence, looking forward with uncertain glance. Some frowned; others covered their faces with their hands. Even courtiers of the hetman, even men of weak spirit, did not dare to imitate the joy of the prince at the tidings that Warsaw was taken, that Cracow must fall, and that the provinces, one after the other, would leave their legal king and yield to the enemy. Besides, there was something monstrous in the satisfaction with which the supreme leader of half the armies of the Commonwealth, and one of its most exalted senators, announced its defeats. The prince saw that it was necessary to soften the impression.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I should be the first to weep with you, if harm were coming to the Commonwealth; but here the Commonwealth suffers no harm, it merely changes kings. Instead of the ill-fated Yan Kazimir we shall have a great and fortunate warrior. I see all wars now finished, and enemies vanquished."

"Your highness is right," answered Shchanyetski. "Cup for cup, the same thing that Radzeyovski and Opalinski held forth at Uistsie. Let us rejoice, gracious gentlemen! Death to Yan Kazimir!"

When he had said this, Shchanyetski pushed back his chair with a rattle, and walked out of the hall.

"The best of wines that are in the cellar!" cried the prince.

The marshal hastened to carry out the order. In the hall it was as noisy as in a hive. When the first impression had passed, the nobles began to talk of the news and discuss. They asked Pan Suhanyets for details from Podlyasye, and adjoining Mazovia, which the Swedes had already occupied.

After a while pitchy kegs were rolled into the hall and opened. Spirits began to grow brighter and improve by degrees.

More and more frequently voices were heard to repeat: "All is over! perhaps it is for the best!" "We must bend to fortune!" "The prince will not let us be wronged." "It is better for us than for others. Long life to Yanush Radzivill, our voevoda, hetman, and prince!"

"Grand Prince of Lithuania!" cried again Pan Yujits.

But at this time neither silence nor laughter answered him; but a number of tens of hoarse throats roared at once,--

"That is our wish,--from heart and soul our wish! Long life to him! May he rule!"

The magnate rose with a face as red as purple. "I thank you, brothers," said he, seriously.

In the hall it had become as suffocating and hot, from lights and the breath of people, as in a bath.

Panna Aleksandra bent past Kmita to her uncle. "I am weak," said she; "let us leave here."

In truth her face was pale, and on her forehead glittered drops of perspiration; but the sword-bearer of Rossyeni cast an unquiet glance at the hetman, fearing lest it be taken ill of him to leave the table. In the field he was a gallant soldier, but he feared Radzivill with his whole soul.

At that moment, to complete the evil, the hetman said,--

"He is my enemy who will not drink all my toasts to the bottom, for I am joyful to-day."

"You have heard?" asked Billevich.

"Uncle, I cannot stay longer, I am faint," said Olenka, with a beseeching voice.

"Then go alone," answered Pan Tomash.

The lady rose, wishing to slip away unobserved; but her strength failed, and she caught the side of the chair in her weakness.

Suddenly a strong knightly arm embraced her, and supported the almost fainting maiden.

"I will conduct you," said Pan Andrei.

And without asking for permission he caught her form as if with an iron hoop. She leaned on him more and more; before they reached the door, she was hanging powerless on his arm.

Then he raised her as lightly as he would a child, and bore her out of the hall.

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Chapter XXIV

That evening after the banquet, Pan Andrei wished absolutely to see the prince, but he was told that the prince was occupied in a secret interview with Pan Suhanyets.

He went therefore early next morning, and was admitted at once.

"Your highness," said he "I have come with a prayer."

"What do you wish me to do for you?"

"I am not able to live here longer. Each day increases my torment. There is nothing for me here in Kyedani. Let your highness find some office for me, send me whithersoever it please you. I have heard that regiments are to move against Zolotarenko; I will go with them."

"Zolotarenko would be glad to have an uproar with us, but he cannot get at us in any way, for Swedish protection is here already, and we cannot go against him without the Swedes. Count Magnus advances with terrible dilatoriness because he does not trust me. But is it so ill for you here in Kyedani at our side?"

"Your highness is gracious to me, and still my suffering is so keen that I cannot describe it. To tell the truth, I thought everything would take another course,--I thought that we should fight, that we should live in fire and smoke, day and night in the saddle. God created me for that. But to sit here, listen to quarrels and disputes, rot in inactivity, or hunt down my own people instead of the enemy,--I cannot endure it, simply I am unable. I prefer death a hundred times. As God is dear to me, this is pure torture!"

"I know whence that despair comes. From love,--nothing more. When older, you will learn to laugh at these torments. I saw yesterday that you and that maiden were more and more angry with each other."

"I am nothing to her, nor she to me. What has been is ended."

"But what, did she fall ill yesterday?"

"She did."

The prince was silent for a while, then said: "I have advised you already, and I advise once more, if you care for her take her. I will give command to have the marriage performed. There will be a little screaming and crying,--that's nothing! After the marriage take her to your quarters; and if next day she still cries, that will be the most."

"I beg, your highness, for some office in the army, not for marriage," said Kmita, roughly.

"Then you do not want her?"

"I do not. Neither I her, nor she me. Though it were to tear the soul within me, I will not ask her for anything. I only wish to be as far away as possible, to forget everything before my mind is lost. Here there is nothing to do; and inactivity is the worst of all, for trouble gnaws a man like sickness. Remember, your highness, how grievous it was for you yesterday till good news came. So it is with me to-day, and so it will be. What have I to do? Seize my head, lest bitter thoughts split it, and sit down? What can I wait for? God knows what kind of times these are, God knows what kind of war this is, which I cannot understand nor grasp with my mind,--which causes me still more grief. Now, as God is dear to me, if your highness will not use me in some way, I will flee, collect a party, and fight."

"Whom?" asked the prince.

"Whom? I will go to Vilna, and attack as I did Hovanski. Let your highness permit my squadron to go with me, and war will begin."

"I need your squadron here against internal enemies."

"That is the pain, that is the torment, to watch in Kyedani with folded arms, or chase after some Volodyovski whom I would rather have as a comrade by my side."

"I have an office for you," said the prince. "I will not let you go to Vilna, nor will I give you a squadron; and if you go against my will, collect a squadron and fight, know that by this you cease to serve me."

"But I shall serve the country."

"He serves the country who serves me,--I have convinced you of that already. Remember also that you have taken an oath to me. Finally, if you go as a volunteer you will go also from under my jurisdiction, and the courts are waiting for you with sentences. In your own interest you should not do this."

"What power have courts now?"

"Beyond Kovno none; but here, where the country is still quiet, they have not ceased to act. It is true you may not appear, but decisions will be given and will weigh upon you until times of peace. Whom they have once declared they will remember even in ten years, and the nobles of Lauda will see that you are not forgotten."

"To tell the truth to your highness, when it comes to atonement I will yield. Formerly I was ready to war with the whole Commonwealth, and to win for myself as many sentences as the late Pan Lashch, who had a cloak lined with them. But now a kind of galled spot has come out on my conscience. A man fears to wade farther than he wished, and mental disquiet touching everything gnaws him."

"Are you so squeamish? But a truce to this! I will tell you, if 'tis your wish to go hence, I have an office for you and a very honorable one. Ganhoff is creeping into my eyes for this office, and talks of it every day. I have been thinking to give it to him. Still 'tis impossible to do so, for I must have a man of note, not with a trifling name, not a foreigner, but a Pole, who by his very person will bear witness that not all men have left me, that there are still weighty citizens on my side. You are just the man; you have so much good daring, are more willing to make others bend than to bow down yourself."

"What is the task?"

"To go on a long journey."

"I am ready to-day!"

"And at your own cost, since I am straitened for money. Some of my revenues the enemy have taken; others, our own people are ravaging, and no part comes in season; besides, all the army which I have here, has fallen to my expense. Of a certainty the treasurer, whom I have now behind a locked door, does not give me a copper,--first, because he has not the wish to do so; second; because he has not the coin. Whatever public money there is, I take without asking; but is there much? From the Swedes you will get anything sooner than money, for their hands tremble at sight of a farthing."

"Your highness need not explain. If I go, it will be at my own expense."

"But it will be necessary to appear with distinction, without sparing."

"I will spare nothing."

The hetman's face brightened; for in truth he had no ready money, though he had plundered Vilna not long before, and, besides, he was greedy by nature. It was also true that the revenues from his immense estates, extending from Livonia to Kieff and from Smolensk to Mazovia, had really ceased to flow in, and the cost of the army increased every day.

"That suits me," said he; "Ganhoff would begin at once to knock on my coffers, but you are another kind of man. Hear, then, your instructions."

"I am listening with care."

"First, you will go to Podlyasye. The road is perilous; for the confederates, who left the camp, are there and acting against me. How you will escape them is your own affair. Yakub Kmita might spare you; but beware of Horotkyevich, Jyromski, and especially of Volodyovski with his Lauda men."

"I have been in their hands already, and no evil has happened to me."

"That is well. You will go to Zabludovo, where Pan Harasimovich lives; you will order him to collect what money he can from my revenues, the public taxes and whencesoever it is possible, and send it to me,--not to this place, however, but to Tyltsa, where there are effects of mine already. What goods or property he can pawn, let him pawn; what he can get from the Jews, let him take. Secondly, let him think how to ruin the confederates. But that is not your mission; I will send him instructions under my own hand. You will give him the letter and move straight to Tykotsin, to Prince Boguslav--"

Here the hetman stopped and began to breathe heavily, for continuous speaking tortured him greatly. Kmita looked eagerly at Radzivill, for his own soul was chafing to go, and he felt that the journey, full of expected adventures, would be balsam to his grief.

After a while the hetman continued: "I am astonished that Boguslav is loitering still in Podlyasye. As God is true, he may ruin both me and himself. Pay diligent attention to what he says; for though you will give him my letters, you should supplement them with living speech, and explain that which may not be written. Now understand that yesterday's intelligence was good, but not so good as I told the nobles,--not so good, in fact, as I myself thought at first. The Swedes have the upper hand, it is true; they have occupied Great Poland, Mazovia, Warsaw; the province of Syeradz has yielded to them, they are pursuing Yan Kazimir to Cracow, and as God is in heaven, they will besiege the place. Charnyetski is to defend it. He is a newly baked senator, but, I must confess, a good soldier. Who can foresee what will happen? The Swedes, of course, know how to take fortresses, and there was no time to fortify Cracow. Still, that spotted little castellan[22] (Charnyetski) may hold out there a month, two, three. Such wonders take place at times, as we all remember in the case of Zbaraj. If he will stand obstinately, the devil may turn everything around. Learn now political secrets. Know first that in Vienna they will not look with willing eye on the growing power of Sweden, and may give aid. The Tartars, too, I know this well, are inclined to assist Yan Kazimir, and to move against the Cossacks and Moscow with all force; and then the armies in the Crimea under Pototski would assist. Yan Kazimir is in despair, but tomorrow his fortune may be preponderant."

Here the prince was forced to give rest again to his wearied breast, and Pan Andrei experienced a wonderful feeling which he could not himself account for at once. Behold, he, an adherent of Radzivill and Sweden, felt as it were a great joy at the thought that fortune might turn from the Swedes!

"Suhanyets told me," said the prince, "how it was at Vidava and Jarnov. There in the first onset our advance guard--I mean the Polish--ground the Swedes into the dust. They were not general militia, and the Swedes lost courage greatly."

"Still victory was with the Swedes, was it not?"

"It was, for the squadrons mutinied against Yan Kazimir, and the nobles declared that they would stand in line, but would not fight. Still it was shown that the Swedes are no better in the field than the quarter soldiers. Only let there be one or two victories and their courage may change. Let money come to Yan Kazimir to pay wages, and the troops will not mutiny. Pototski has not many men, but they are sternly disciplined and as resolute as hornets. The Tartars will come with Pototski, but the elector will not move with his reinforcement."

"How is that?"

"Boguslav and I concluded that he would enter at once into a league with the Swedes and with us, for we know how to measure his love for the Commonwealth. He is too cautious, however, and thinks only of his own interest. He is waiting to see what will happen; meanwhile he is entering into a league, but with the Prussian towns, which remain faithful to Yan Kazimir. I think that in this there will be treason of some kind, unless the elector is not himself, or doubts Swedish success altogether. But until all this is explained, the league stands against Sweden; and let the Swedes stumble in Little Poland, Great Poland and Mazovia will rise, the Prussians will go with them, and it may come to pass--" Here the prince shuddered as if terrified at his supposition.

"What may come to pass?" asked Kmita.

"That not a Swedish foot will go out of the Commonwealth," answered the prince, gloomily.

Kmita frowned and was silent.

"Then," continued the hetman, in a low voice, "our fortune will have fallen as low as before it was high."

Pan Andrei, springing from his seat, cried with sparkling eyes and flushed face: "What is this? Why did your highness say not long ago that the Commonwealth was lost,--that only in league with the Swedes, through the person and future reign of your highness, could it possibly be saved? What have I to believe,--what I heard then, or what I hear now? If what your highness says to-day is true, why do we hold with the Swedes, instead of beating them?--and the soul laughs at the thought of this."

Radzivill looked sternly at Kmita. "You are over bold!" said he.

But Kmita was careering on his own enthusiasm as on a horse. "Speak later of what kind of man I am; but now answer my question, your highness."

"I will give this answer," said Radzivill, with emphasis: "if things take the turn that I mention, we will fall to beating the Swedes."

Pan Andrei ceased distending his nostrils, slapped his forehead with his palm, and cried, "I am a fool! I am a fool!"

"I do not deny that," answered the prince. "I will say more: you exceed the measure of insolence. Know then that I send you to note the turns of fortune. I desire the good of the country, nothing else. I have mentioned to you suppositions which may not, which certainly will not, come true. But there is need to be cautious. Whoso wishes that water should not bear him away must know how to swim, and whoso goes through a pathless forest must stop often to note the direction in which he should travel. Do you understand?"

"As clearly as sunshine."

"We are free to draw back, and we are bound to do so if it will be better for the country; but we shall not be able if Prince Boguslav stays longer in Podlyasye. Has he lost his head, or what? If he stays there, he must declare for one side or the other,--either for the Swedes or Yan Kazimir,--and that is just what would be worst of all."

"I am dull, your highness, for again I do not understand."

"Podlyasye is near Mazovia; and either the Swedes will occupy it or reinforcements will come from the Prussian towns against the Swedes. Then it will be necessary to choose."

"But why does not Prince Boguslav choose?"

"Until he chooses, the Swedes will seek us greatly and must win our favor; the same is true of the elector. If it comes to retreating and turning against the Swedes, he is to be the link between me and Yan Kazimir. He is to ease my return, which he could not do if previously he had taken the side of the Swedes. But since he will be forced to make a final choice if he remains in Podlyasye, let him go to Prussia, to Tyltsa, and wait there for events. The elector stays in Brandenburg. Boguslav will be of greater importance in Prussia; he may take the Prussians in hand altogether, increase his army, and stand at the head of a considerable force. And then both the Swedes and Yan Kazimir will give what we ask in order to win us both; and our house will not only not fall, but will rise higher, and that is the main thing."

"Your highness said that the good of the country was the main thing."

"But do not break in at every word, since I told you at first that the two are one; and listen farther. I know well that Prince Boguslav, though he signed the act of union with Sweden here in Kyedani, does not pass as an adherent of theirs. Though the report will be baseless, do you declare along the road that I forced him to sign it against his heart. People will believe this readily, for it happens frequently that even full brothers belong to different parties. In this way he will be able to gain the confidence of the confederates, invite the leaders to his camp as if for negotiations, and then seize and take them to Prussia. That will be a good method, and salutary for the country, which those men will ruin completely unless they are stopped."

"Is this all that I have to do?" asked Kmita, with a certain disillusion.

"This is merely a part, and not the most important. From Prince Boguslav you will go with my letters to Karl Gustav himself. I cannot come to harmony with Count Magnus from the time of that battle at Klavany. He looks at me askance, and does not cease from supposing that if the Swedes were to stumble, if the Tartars were to rush at the other enemy, I would turn against the Swedes."

"By what your highness has said just now, his supposition is correct."

"Correct or not, I do not wish it held, or wish him to see what trumps I have in my hand. Besides, he is ill-disposed toward me personally. Surely he has written more than once against me to the king, and beyond a doubt one of two things,--either that I am weak, or that I am not reliable. This must be remedied. You will give my letter to the king. If he asks about the Klavany affair, tell the truth, neither adding nor taking away. You may confess that I condemned those officers to death, and you obtained their pardon. That will cost you nothing, but the sincerity may please him. You will not complain against Count Magnus directly in presence of the king, for he is his brother-in-law. But if the king should ask, so, in passing, what people here think, say that they are sorry because Count Magnus does not repay the hetman sufficiently, in view of his sincere friendship for the Swedes; that the prince himself (that is I) grieves greatly over this. If he asks if it is true that all the quota troops have left me, say that 'tis not true; and as proof offer yourself. Tell him that you are colonel; for you are. Say that the partisans of Pan Gosyevski brought the troops to mutiny, but add that there is a mortal enmity between us. Say that if Count Magnus had sent me cannon and cavalry I should have crushed the confederates long ago,--that this is the general opinion. Finally, take note of everything, give ear to what they are saying near the person of the king, and report, not to me, but, if occasion offers, to Prince Boguslav in Prussia. You may do so even through the elector's men, should you meet them. Perhaps you know German?"

"I had an officer, a noble of Courland, a certain Zend, whom the Lauda men slew; from him I learned German not badly. I have also been often in Livonia."

"That is well."

"But, your highness, where shall I find the King of Sweden?"

"You will find him where he will be. In time of war he may be here to-day and there to-morrow. Should you find him at Cracow, it would be better, for you will take letters to other persons who live in those parts."

"Then I am to go to others?"

"Yes. You must make your way to the marshal of the kingdom, Pan Lyubomirski. It is of great moment to me that he come to our views. He is a powerful man, and in Little Poland much depends on him. Should he declare sincerely for the Swedes, Yan Kazimir would have no place in the Commonwealth. Conceal not from the King of Sweden that you are going from me to Lyubomirski to win him for the Swedes. Do not boast of this directly, but speak as it were inadvertently. That will influence him greatly in my favor. God grant that Lyubomirski declare for us. He will hesitate, that I know; still I hope that my letters will turn the scale, for there is a reason why he must care greatly for my good will. I will tell you the whole affair, that you may know how to act. You see Pan Lyubomirski has been coming around me for a long time, as men go around a bear in a thicket, and trying from afar to see if I would give my only daughter to his son Heraclius. They are children yet, but the contract might be made,--which is very important for the marshal, more than for me, since there is not another such heiress in the Commonwealth, and if the two fortunes were united, there would not be another such in the world. That is a well-buttered toast! But if the marshal were to conceive the hope that his son might receive the crown of the Grand Principality as the dower of my daughter! Rouse that hope in him and he will be tempted, as God is in heaven, for he thinks more of his house than he does of the Commonwealth."

"What have I to tell him?"

"That which I cannot write. But it must be placed before him with skill. God preserve you from disclosing that you have heard from me how I desire the crown,--it is too early for that yet,--but say, 'All the nobles in Lauda and Lithuania talk of crowning Radzivill, and rejoice over it; the Swedes themselves mention it, I have heard it near the person of the king.' You will observe who of his courtiers is the marshal's confidant, and suggest to that courtier the following thought: 'Let Lyubomirski join the Swedes and ask in return the marriage of Heraclius and Radzivill's daughter, then let him support Radzivill as Grand Prince. Heraclius will be Radzivill's heir.' That is not enough; suggest also that once Heraclius has the Lithuanian crown he will be elected in time to the throne of Poland, and so the two crowns may be united again in these two families. If they do not grasp at this idea with both hands, they will show themselves petty people. Whoso does not aim high and fears great plans, should be content with a little baton, with a small castellanship; let him serve, bend his neck, gain favor through chamber attendants, for he deserves nothing better! God has created me for something else, and therefore I dare to stretch my hands to everything which it is in the power of man to reach, and to go to those limits which God alone has placed to human effort."

Here the prince stretched his hands, as if wishing to seize some unseen crown, and gleamed up altogether, like a torch; from emotion the breath failed in his throat again.

After a while he calmed himself and said with a broken voice,--

"Behold--where my soul flies--as if to the sun--Disease utters its warning--let it work its will--I would rather death found me on the throne--than in the antechamber of a king."

"Shall the physician be called?" asked Kmita.

Radzivill waved his hand.

"No need of him--I feel better now--That is all I had to say--In addition keep your eyes open, your ears open--See also what the Pototskis will do. They hold together, are true to the Vazas (that is, to Yan Kazimir)--and they are powerful--It is not known either how the Konyetspolskis and Sobyeskis will turn--Observe and learn--Now the suffocation is gone. Have you understood everything clearly?"

"Yes. If I err, it will be my own fault."

"I have letters written already; only a few remain. When do you wish to start?"

"To-day! As soon as possible."

"Have you no request to make?"

"Your highness," began Kmita, and stopped suddenly. The words came from his mouth with difficulty, and on his face constraint and confusion were depicted.

"Speak boldly," said the hetman.

"I pray," said Kmita, "that Billevich and she--suffer no harm while here."

"Be certain of that. But I see that you love the girl yet."

"Impossible," answered Kmita. "Do I know! An hour I love her, an hour I hate her. The devil alone knows! All is over, as I have said,--suffering only is left. I do not want her, but I do not want another to take her. Your highness, pardon me, I know not myself what I say. I must go,--go with all haste! Pay no heed to my words, God will give back my mind the moment I have gone through the gate."

"I understand that, because till love has grown cold with time, though not wanting her yourself, the thought that another might take her burns you. But be at rest on that point, for I will let no man come here, and as to going away they will not go. Soon it will be full of foreign soldiers all around, and unsafe. Better, I will send her to Tanrogi, near Tyltsa, where my daughter is. Be at rest, Yendrek. Go, prepare for the road, and come to me to dine."

Kmita bowed and withdrew, and Radzivill began to draw deep breaths. He was glad of the departure of Kmita. He left him his squadron and his name as an adherent; for his person the prince cared less.

But Kmita in going might render him notable services; in Kyedani he had long since grown irksome to the hetman, who was surer of him at a distance than near at hand. The wild courage and temper of Kmita might at any instant bring an outburst in Kyedani and a rupture very dangerous for both. The departure put danger aside.

"Go, incarnate devil, and serve!" muttered the prince, looking at the door through which the banneret of Orsha had passed. Then he called a page and summoned Ganhoff.

"You will take Kmita's squadron," said the prince to him, "and command over all the cavalry. Kmita is going on a journey."

Over the cold face of Ganhoff there passed as it were a ray of joy. The mission had missed him, but a higher military office had come. He bowed in silence, and said,--

"I will pay for the favor of your highness with faithful service." Then he stood erect and waited.

"And what will you say further?" asked the prince.

"Your highness, a noble from Vilkomir came this morning with news that Pan Sapyeha is marching with troops against your highness."

Radzivill quivered, but in the twinkle of an eye he mastered his expression.

"You may go," said he to Ganhoff.

Then he fell into deep thought.

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