Pan Andrei fretted in his lodgings like a wounded wildcat. The hellish
revenge of Boguslav Radzivill brought him almost to madness. Not enough
that that prince had sprung out of his hands, killed his men, almost
deprived him of life; he had put upon him besides shame such as no one,
not merely of his name, but no Pole from the beginning of the world,
had ever groaned under.
There were moments when Kmita wished to leave everything—the glory
which was opening before him, the service of the king—and fly away to
avenge himself on that magnate whom he wanted to eat up alive.
But on the other hand, in spite of all his rage and the whirlwind in
his head, he remembered that while the prince lived revenge would not
vanish; and the best means, the only way to hurl back his calumny and
lay bare all the infamy of his accusation, was precisely the service of
the king; for in it he could show the world that not only had he not
thought of raising his hand against the sacred person of Yan Kazimir,
but that among all the nobles of Lithuania and Poland no person more
loyal than Kmita could be found.
But he gnashed his teeth and was boiling like a stew; he tore his
clothing, and long, long was it before he could calm himself. He
gloated over the thought of revenge. He saw this Radzivill again in his
hands; he swore by the memory of his father, that he must reach
Boguslav even if death and torments were awaiting him therefor. And
though the prince was a mighty lord whom not only the revenge of a
common noble, but even the revenge of a king, could not easily touch;
still, whoso knew that unrestrained soul better, would not have slept
calmly, and more than once would have trembled before his vows.
And still Pan Andrei did not know yet that the prince had not merely
covered him with shame and robbed him of repute.
Meanwhile the king, who from the first had conceived a great love for
the young hero, sent Pan Lugovski to him that same day, and on the
morrow commanded Kmita to accompany his majesty to Opol, where at a
general assembly of the senators it was intended to deliberate on the
return of the king to the country. Indeed there was something over
which to deliberate. Lyubomirski, the marshal of the kingdom, had sent
a new letter, announcing that everything in the country was ready for a
general war, and urging earnestly the return. Besides this, news was
spread of a certain league of nobles and soldiers formed for the
defence of the king and the country, concerning which men had really
been thinking for some time, but which, as appeared afterward, was
concluded a little later, under the name of the Confederation of
Tishovtsi.
All minds were greatly occupied by the news, and immediately after a
thanksgiving Mass they assembled in a secret council, to which, at the
instance of the king, Kmita too was admitted, since he had brought news
from Chenstohova.
They began then to discuss whether the return was to take place at
once, or whether it were better to defer it till the army, not only by
wish, but by deed, should abandon the Swedes.
Yan Kazimir put an end to these discussions by saying: “Do not discuss,
your worthinesses, the return, or whether it is better to defer it
awhile, for I have taken counsel already concerning that with God and
the Most Holy Lady. Therefore I communicate to you that whatever may
happen we shall move in person these days. Express your ideas
therefore, your worthinesses, and be not sparing of counsel as to how
our return may be best and most safely accomplished.”
Opinions were various. Some advised not to trust too greatly to the
marshal of the kingdom, who had once shown hesitation and disobedience,
when, instead of giving the crown to the emperor for safe keeping,
according to the order of the king, he had carried it to Lyubovlya.
“Great,” said they, “is the pride and ambition of that lord, and if he
should have the person of the king in his castle, who knows what he
might do, or what he would ask for his services; who knows that he
would not try, or wish to seize the whole government in his own hands,
and become the protector, not only of the entire country, but of the
king?”
These advised the king therefore to wait for the retreat of the Swedes
and repair to Chenstohova, as to the place from which grace and rebirth
had spread over the Commonwealth. But others gave different opinions,—
“The Swedes are yet at Chenstohova, and though by the grace of God they
will not capture the place, still there are no unoccupied roads. All
the districts about there are in Swedish hands. The enemy are at
Kjepitsi, Vyelunie, Cracow; along the boundary also considerable forces
are disposed. In the mountains near the Hungarian border, where
Lyubovlya is situated, there are no troops save those of the marshal;
the Swedes have never gone to that distance, not having men enough nor
daring sufficient. From Lyubovlya it is nearer to Russia, which is free
of hostile occupation, and to Lvoff, which has not ceased to be loyal,
and to the Tartars, who, according to information, are coming with
succor; all these are waiting specially for the decision of the king.”
“As to Pan Lyubomirski,” said the Bishop of Cracow, “his ambition will
be satisfied with this, that he will receive the king first in his
starostaship of Spij, and will surround him with protection. The
government will remain with the king, but the hope itself of great
services will satisfy the marshal. If he wishes to tower above all
others through his loyalty, then, whether his loyalty flows from
ambition or from love to the king and the country, his majesty will
always receive notable profit.”
This opinion of a worthy and experienced bishop seemed the most proper;
therefore it was decided that the king should go through the mountains
to Lyubovlya, and thence to Lvoff, or whithersoever circumstances might
indicate.
They discussed also the day of returning; but the voevoda of Lenchytsk,
who had just come from his mission to the emperor for aid, said that it
was better not to fix the date, but to leave the decision to the king,
so that the news might not be spread and the enemy forewarned. They
decided only this, that the king would move on with three hundred
dragoons, under command of Tyzenhauz, who, though young, enjoyed
already the reputation of a great soldier.
But still more important was the second part of the deliberations, in
which it was voted unanimously that on his arrival in the country,
government and the direction of the war should pass into the hands of
the king, whom nobles, troops, and hetmans were to obey in all things.
They spoke besides of the future, and touched upon the causes of those
sudden misfortunes which, as a deluge, had covered the whole land in
such a brief period. And the primate himself gave no other cause for
this than the disorder, want of obedience, and excessive contempt for
the office and majesty of the king.
He was heard in silence, for each man understood that it was a question
here of the fate of the Commonwealth, and of great, hitherto unexampled
changes in it, which might bring back the ancient power of the State,
and which was long desired by the wise queen who loved her adopted
country.
From the mouth of the worthy prince of the church there came words like
thunderbolts, and the souls of the hearers opened to the truth, almost
as flowers open to the sun.
“Not against ancient liberties do I rise,” said the primate, “but
against that license which with its own hands is murdering the country.
In very truth men have forgotten in this Commonwealth the distinction
between freedom and license; and as excessive pleasure ends in pain, so
freedom unchecked has ended in slavery. You have descended to such
error, citizens of this illustrious Commonwealth, that only he among
you passes for a defender of liberty who raises an uproar, who breaks
diets and opposes the king, not when it is needful, but when for the
king it is a question of saving the country. In our treasury the bottom
of the chest can be seen; the soldier unpaid seeks pay of the enemy;
the diets, the only foundation of this Commonwealth, are dissolved
after having done nothing, for one disorderly man, one evil citizen,
for his own private purpose may prevent deliberation. What manner of
liberty is that which permits one man to stand against all? If that is
freedom for one man, then it is bondage for all others. And where have
we gone with the use of this freedom which seemed such sweet fruit?
Behold one weak enemy, against whom our ancestors gained so many
splendid victories, now _sicut fulgur exit ab occidente et poret usque
ad orientem_ (flashes like lightning from the west, and goes as far as
the east). No one opposes him, traitorous heretics aided him, and he
seized possession of all things; he persecutes the faith, he desecrates
churches, and when you speak of your liberties he shows you the sword.
Behold what your provincial diets have come to, what your veto has come
to, what your license has come to, your degradation of the king at
every step. Your king, the natural defender of the country, you have
rendered, first of all, powerless, and then you complain that he does
not defend you. You did not want your own government, and now the enemy
is governing. And who, I ask, can save us in this fall, who can bring
back ancient glory to this Commonwealth, if not he who has spent so
much of his life and time for it; when the unhappy domestic war with
the Cossacks tore it, who exposed his consecrated person to dangers
such as no monarch in our time has passed through; who at Zborovo, at
Berestechko, and at Jvanyets fought like a common soldier, bearing
toils and hardships beyond his station of king? To him now we will
confide ourselves; to him, with the example of the ancient Romans, we
will give the dictatorship, and take counsel ourselves how to save in
time coming this fatherland from domestic enemies, from vice, license,
disorder, disobedience, and restore due dignity to the government and
the king.”
So spoke the primate; and misfortune with the experience of recent
times had changed his hearers in such a degree that no man protested,
for all saw clearly that either the power of the king must be
strengthened, or the Commonwealth must perish without fail. They began
therefore to consider in various ways how to bring the counsels of the
primate into practice. The king and queen listened to them eagerly and
with joy, especially the queen, who had labored long and earnestly at
the introduction of order into the Commonwealth.
The king returned then to Glogov glad and satisfied, and summoning a
number of confidential officers, among whom was Kmita, he said,—
“I am impatient, my stay in this country is burning me, I could wish to
start even to-morrow; therefore I have called you, as men of arms and
experience, to provide ready methods. It is a pity that we should lose
time, when our presence may hasten considerably a general war.”
“In truth,” said Lugovski, “if such is the will of your Royal Grace,
why delay? The sooner the better.”
“While the affair is not noised about and the enemy do not double their
watchfulness,” added Colonel Wolf.
“The enemy are already on their guard, and have taken possession of the
roads so far as they are able,” said Kmita.
“How is that?” asked the king.
“Gracious Lord, your intended return is no news for the Swedes. Almost
every day a report travels over the whole Commonwealth, that your Royal
Grace is already on the road, or even now in your realms, _inter
regna_. Therefore it is necessary to observe the greatest care, and to
hurry by through narrow places stealthily, for Douglas’s scouts are
waiting on the roads.”
“The best carefulness,” said Tyzenhauz, looking at Kmita, “is three
hundred faithful sabres; and if my gracious lord gives me command over
them, I will conduct him in safety, even over the breasts of Douglas’s
scouts.”
“You will conduct if there are just three hundred, but suppose that you
meet six hundred or a thousand, or come upon a superior force waiting
in ambush, what then?”
“I said three hundred,” answered Tyzenhauz, “for three hundred were
mentioned. If however that is too small a party, we can provide five
hundred and even more.”
“God save us from that. The larger the party, the more noise will it
make,” said Kmita.
“I think that the marshal of the kingdom will come out to meet us with
his squadrons,” put in the king.
“The marshal will not come out,” answered Kmita, “for he will not know
the day and the hour, and even if he did know some delay might happen
on the road, as is usual; it is difficult to foresee everything.”
“A soldier says that, a genuine soldier!” said the king. “It is clear
that you are not a stranger to war.”
Kmita laughed, for he remembered his attacks on Hovanski. Who was more
skilled than he in such actions? To whom could the escort of the king
be entrusted with more judgment?
But Tyzenhauz was evidently of a different opinion from the king, for
he frowned and said with sarcasm against Kmita, “We wait then for your
enlightened counsel.”
Kmita felt ill will in the words; therefore he fixed his glance on
Tyzenhauz and answered,—
“My opinion is that the smaller the party the easier it will pass.”
“How is that?”
“The will of your Royal Grace is unfettered,” said Kmita, “and can do
what it likes, but my reason teaches me this: Let Pan Tyzenhauz go
ahead with the dragoons, giving out purposely that he is conducting the
king; this he will do to attract the enemy to himself. His affair is to
wind out, to escape from the trap safely. And we with a small band in a
day or two will move after him with your Royal Grace; and when the
enemy’s attention is turned in another direction it will be easy for us
to reach Lyubovlya.”
The king clapped his hands with delight. “God sent us this soldier!”
cried he. “Solomon could not judge better. I give my vote for this
plan, and there must not be another. They will hunt for the king among
the dragoons, and the king will pass by under their noses. It could not
be better!”
“Gracious King,” cried Tyzenhauz, “that is pastime.”
“Soldier’s pastime!” said the king. “But no matter, I will not recede
from that plan.”
Kmita’s eyes shone from delight because his opinion had prevailed, but
Tyzenhauz sprang from his seat.
“Gracious Lord!” said he, “I resign my command from the dragoons. Let
some one else lead them.”
“And why is that?”
“For if your Royal Grace will go without defence, exposed to the play
of fortune, to every destructive chance which may happen, I wish to be
near your person to expose my breast for you and to die should the need
be.”
“I thank you for your sincere intention,” answered Yan Kazimir; “but
calm yourself, for in just such a way as Babinich advises shall I be
least exposed.”
“Let Pan Babinich, or whatever his name may be, take what he advises on
his own responsibility! It may concern him that your Royal Grace be
lost in the mountains. I take as witness God and my companions here
present that I advised against it from my soul.”
Scarcely had he finished speaking when Kmita sprang up, and standing
face to face with Tyzenhauz asked, “What do you mean by these words?”
Tyzenhauz measured him haughtily with his eyes from head to foot, and
said, “Do not strain your head, little man, toward mine, the place is
too high for you.”
To which Kmita with lightning in his eyes replied, “It is not known for
whom it would be too high if—”
“If what?” asked Tyzenhauz, looking at him quickly.
“If I should reach higher people, than you.”
Tyzenhauz laughed. “But where would you seek them?”
“Silence!” said the king suddenly, with a frown. “Do not begin a
quarrel in my presence.”
Yan Kazimir made an impression of such dignity on all surrounding him,
that both young men were silent and confused, remembering that in the
presence of the king unseemly words had escaped them. But the king
added,—
“No one has the right to exalt himself above that cavalier who burst
the siege gun and escaped from Swedish hands, even though his father
lived in a village, which, as I see, was not the case, for a bird from
his feathers, and blood from deeds are easily known. Drop your
offences.” Here the king turned to Tyzenhauz. “You wish it; then remain
with our person. We may not refuse that. Wolf or Denhoff will lead the
dragoons. But Babinich too will remain, and we will go according to his
counsel, for he has pleased our heart.”
“I wash my hands!” said Tyzenhauz.
“Only preserve the secret, gentlemen. Let the dragoons go to Ratibor
to-day, and spread as widely as possible the report that I am with
them. And then be on the watch, for you know not the day nor the
hour—Go, Tyzenhauz, give the order to the captain of the dragoons.”
Tyzenhauz went out wringing his hands from anger and sorrow; after him
went other officers.
That same day the news thundered through all Glogov that the king had
already gone to the boundaries of the Commonwealth. Even many
distinguished senators thought that the departure had really taken
place. Couriers, sent purposely, took the report to Opol and to the
roads on the boundary.
Tyzenhauz, though he had declared that he washed his hands, did not
give up the affair as lost; as attendant of the king, he had access to
the person of the monarch every moment made easy. That very day
therefore, after the dragoons had gone, he stood before the face of Yan
Kazimir, or rather before both royal persons, for Marya Ludvika was
present.
“I have come for the order,” said he; “when do we start?”
“The day after to-morrow, before dawn.”
“Are many people to go?”
“You will go; Lugovski with the soldiers. The castellan of Sandomir
goes also with me. I begged him to take as few men as possible; but we
cannot dispense with a few trusty and tried sabres. Besides, his
holiness the nuncio wishes to accompany me; his presence will add
importance, and will touch all who are faithful to the true church. He
does not hesitate therefore to expose his sacred person to hazard. Do
you have a care that there are not more than forty horses, for that is
Babinich’s counsel.”
“Gracious Lord!” said Tyzenhauz.
“And what do you wish yet?”
“On my knees I implore one favor. The question is settled, the dragoons
have gone,—we shall travel without defence, and the first scouting
party of a few tens of horses may capture us. Listen, your Royal Grace,
to the prayer of your servant, on whose faithfulness God is looking,
and do not trust in everything to that noble. He is an adroit man,
since he has been able in so short a time to steal into your heart and
favor; but—”
“Do you envy him?” interrupted the king.
“I do not envy him, Gracious Lord; I do not wish even to suspect him of
treason positively; but I would swear that his name is not Babinich.
Why does he hide his real name? Why is it somehow inconvenient to tell
what he did before the siege of Chenstohova? Why specially has he
insisted upon dragoons going out first, and that your Royal Grace
should go without an escort?”
The king thought awhile, and began, according to his custom, to pout
his lips repeatedly.
“If it were a question of collusion with the Swedes,” said he at last,
“what could three hundred dragoons do? What power would they be, and
what protection? Babinich would need merely to notify the Swedes to
dispose a few hundred infantry along the roads, and they could take us
as in a net. But only think if there can be a question of treason here.
He would have had to know beforehand the date of our journey, and to
inform the Swedes in Cracow; and how could he do so, since we move the
day after to-morrow? He could not even guess that we would choose his
plan; we might have gone according to your suggestion or that of
others. It was at first decided to go with the dragoons; then if he
wished to talk with the Swedes this special party would have confused
his arrangements, for he would have to send out new messengers and give
fresh notice. All these are irrefragable reasons. And besides he did
not insist at all on his opinion, as you say; he only offered, as did
others, what seemed to him best. No, no! Sincerity is looking forth
from the eyes of that noble, and his burned side bears witness that he
is ready to disregard even torture.”
“His Royal Grace is right,” said the queen, on a sudden; “these points
are irrefragable, and the advice was and is good.”
Tyzenhauz knew from experience that when the queen gave her opinion it
would be vain for him to appeal to the king, Yan Kazimir had such
confidence in her wit and penetration. And it was a question now with
the young man only that the king should observe needful caution.
“It is not my duty,” answered he, “to oppose my king and queen. But if
we are to go the day after to-morrow, let this Babinich not know of it
till the hour of departure.”
“That may be,” said the king.
“And on the road I will have an eye on him, and should anything happen
he will not go alive from my hands.”
“You will not have to act,” said the queen. “Listen; not you will
preserve the king from evil happenings on the road, from treason, and
snares of the enemy; not you, not Babinich, not the dragoons, not the
powers of earth, but the Providence of God, whose eye is turned
continually on the shepherds of nations and the anointed of the Lord.
It will guard him. It will protect him and bring him safely; and in
case of need, send him assistance, of which you do not even think, you
who believe in earthly power only.”
“Most Serene Lady!” answered Tyzenhauz, “I believe, too, that without
the will of God not a hair will fall from the head of any man; but to
guard the king’s person through fear of traitors is no sin for me.”
Marya Ludvika smiled graciously. “But you suspect too hastily, and thus
cast shame on a whole nation, in which, as this same Babinich has said,
there has not yet been found one to raise his hand against his own
king. Let it not astonish you that after such desertion, after such a
breaking of oaths and faith as the king and I have experienced, I say
still that no one has dared such a terrible crime, not even those who
to-day serve the Swedes.”
“Prince Boguslav’s letter, Gracious Lady?”
“That letter utters untruth,” said the queen, with decision. “If there
is a man in the Commonwealth ready to betray even the king, that man is
Prince Boguslav, for he in name only belongs to this people.”
“Speaking briefly, do not put suspicion on Babinich,” said the king.
“As to his name, it must be doubled in your head. Besides, we may ask
him; but how can we say to him here, how inquire, ‘If you are not
Babinich, then what is your name?’ Such a question might pain an honest
man terribly, and I’ll risk my head that he is an honest man.”
“At such a price, Gracious Lord, I would not convince myself of his
honesty.”
“Well, well, we are thankful for your care. To-morrow for prayer and
penance, and the day after to the road, to the road!”
Tyzenhauz withdrew with a sigh, and in the greatest secrecy began
preparations that very day for the journey. Even dignitaries who were
to accompany the king were not all informed of the time. But the
servants were ordered to have horses in readiness, for they might start
any day for Ratibor.
The king did not show himself the entire following day, even in the
church; but he lay in the form of a cross in his own room till night,
fasting and imploring the King of kings for aid, not for himself, but
for the Commonwealth.
Marya Ludvika, together with her ladies-in-waiting, was also in prayer.
Then the following night freshened the strength of the wearied ones;
and when in darkness the Glogov church-bell sounded to matins, the hour
had struck for the journey.