When they had left the king’s chamber the two knights walked on in
silence. Volodyovski did not wish to speak; Kmita was unable to utter a
word, for pain and rage were gnawing him. They broke through the crowds
of people who had collected in great numbers on the streets in
consequence of tidings that the first detachment of the Tartars
promised by the Khan had arrived, and was to enter the city to be
presented to the king. The little knight led on; Kmita hastened after
him like one beside himself, with his cap pulled over his eyes and
stumbling against men on the way.
When they had come to a more spacious place Pan Michael seized Kmita by
the wrist and said,—
“Control yourself! Despair will do nothing.”
“I am not in despair,” answered Kmita, “but I want his blood.”
“You may be sure to find him among the enemies of the country.”
“So much the better,” answered Kmita, feverishly; “but even should I
find him in a church—”
“In God’s name, do not commit sacrilege!” interrupted the little
colonel, quickly.
“That traitor will bring me to sin.”
They were silent for a time. Then Kmita asked, “Where is he now?”
“Maybe in Taurogi, and maybe not. Kharlamp will know better.”
“Let us go.”
“It is not far. The squadron is outside the town, but we are here; and
Kharlamp is with us.”
Then Kmita began to breathe heavily like a man going up a steep
mountain. “I am fearfully weak yet,” said he.
“You need moderation all the more, since you will have to deal with
such a knight.”
“I had him once, and here is what remained.” Kmita pointed to the scar
on his face.
“Tell me how it was, for the king barely mentioned it.”
Kmita began to tell; and though he gritted his teeth, and even threw
his cap on the ground, still his mind escaped from misfortune, and he
calmed himself somewhat.
“I knew that you were daring,” said Volodyovski; “but to carry off
Radzivill from the middle of his own squadron, I did not expect that,
even of you.”
Meanwhile they arrived at the quarters. Pan Yan and Pan Stanislav,
Zagloba, Jendzian, and Kharlamp were looking at Crimean coats made of
sheepskin, which a trading Tartar had brought. Kharlamp, who knew Kmita
better, recognized him at one glance of the eye, and dropping the coat
exclaimed,—
“Jesus, Mary!”
“May the name of the Lord be praised!” cried Jendzian.
But before all had recovered breath after the wonder, Volodyovski
said,—
“I present to you, gentlemen, the Hector of Chenstohova, the faithful
servant of the king, who has shed his blood for the faith, the country,
and the sovereign.”
When astonishment had grown still greater, the worthy Pan Michael began
to relate with enthusiasm what he had heard from the king of Kmita’s
services, and from Pan Andrei himself of the seizure of Prince
Boguslav; at last he finished thus,—
“Not only is what Prince Boguslav told of this knight not true, but the
prince has no greater enemy than Pan Kmita, and therefore he has taken
Panna Billevich from Kyedani, so as to pour out on him in some way his
vengeance.”
“And this cavalier has saved our lives and warned the confederates
against Prince Yanush,” cried Zagloba. “In view of such services,
previous offences are nothing. As God lives, it is well that he came to
us with you, Pan Michael, and not alone; it is well also that our
squadron is outside the city, for there is a terrible hatred against
him among the Lauda men, and before he could have uttered a syllable
they would have cut him to pieces.”
“We greet you with full hearts as a brother and future comrade,” said
Pan Yan.
Kharlamp seized his head.
“Such men never sink,” said he; “they swim out on every side, and
besides bring glory to the shore.”
“Did I not tell you that?” cried Zagloba. “The minute I saw him in
Kyedani I thought at once, ‘That is a soldier, a man of courage.’ And
you remember that we fell to kissing each other straightway. It is true
that Radzivill was ruined through me, but also through him. God
inspired me in Billeviche not to let him be shot. Worthy gentlemen, it
is not becoming to give a dry reception to a cavalier like him; he may
think that we are hypocrites.”
When he heard this Jendzian packed off the Tartar with his coats, and
bustled around with the servant to get drinks.
But Kmita was thinking only how to hear most quickly from Kharlamp
about the removal of Olenka.
“Where were you then?” asked he.
“I scarcely ever left Kyedani,” answered Great Nose. “Prince Boguslav
came to our prince voevoda. He so dressed himself for supper that one’s
eyes ached in looking at him; it was clear that Panna Billevich had
pleased him mightily, for he was almost purring from pleasure, like a
cat rubbed on the back. It is said that a cat repeats prayers, but if
Boguslav prayed he was praising the devil. Oh, but he was agreeable,
and sweet and pleasant spoken.”
“Let that go!” said Pan Michael, “you cause too great pain to the
knight.”
“On the contrary. Speak! speak!” cried Kmita.
“He said then at table,” continued Kharlamp, “that it was no derogation
even to a Radzivill to marry the daughter of a common noble, and that
he himself would prefer such a lady to one of those princesses whom the
King and Queen of France wished to give him, and whose names I cannot
remember, for they sounded as when a man is calling hounds in the
forest.”
“Less of that!” said Zagloba.
“He said it evidently to captivate the lady; we, knowing that, began
one after another to look and mutter, thinking truly that he was
setting traps for the innocent.”
“But she? but she?” asked Kmita, feverishly.
“She, like a maiden of high blood and lofty bearing, showed no
satisfaction, did not look at him; but when Boguslav began to talk
about you, she fixed her eyes on him quickly. It is terrible what
happened when he said that you offered for so many ducats to seize the
king and deliver him dead or alive to the Swedes. We thought the soul
would go out of her; but her anger against you was so great that it
overcame her woman’s weakness. When he told with what disgust he had
rejected your offer, she began to respect him, and look at him
thankfully; afterward she did not withdraw her hand from him when he
wished to escort her from the table.”
Kmita covered his eyes with his hands. “Strike, strike, whoso believes
in God!” said he. Suddenly he sprang from his place. “Farewell,
gentlemen!”
“How is this? Whither?” asked Zagloba, stopping the way.
“The king will give me permission; I will go and find him,” said Kmita.
“By God’s wounds, wait! You have not yet learned all, and to find him
there is time. With whom will you go? Where will you find him?”
Kmita perhaps might not have obeyed, but strength failed him; he was
exhausted from wounds, therefore he dropped on the bench, and resting
his shoulders against the wall, closed his eyes. Zagloba gave him a
glass of wine; he seized it with trembling bands, and spilling some on
his beard and breast, drained it to the bottom.
“There is nothing lost,” said Pan Yan; “but the greatest prudence is
needed, for you have an affair with a celebrated man. Through hurried
action and sudden impulse you may ruin Panna Billevich and yourself.”
“Hear Kharlamp to the end,” said Zagloba.
Kmita gritted his teeth. “I am listening with patience.”
“Whether the lady went willingly I know not,” said Kharlamp, “for I was
not present at her departure. I know that the sword-bearer of Rossyeni
protested when they urged him previously; then they shut him up in the
barracks, and finally he was allowed to go to Billeviche without
hindrance. The lady is in evil hands; this cannot be concealed, for
according to what they say of the young prince no Mussulman has such
greed of the fair sex. If any fair head strikes his eye, though she be
married, he is ready to disregard even that.”
“Woe! woe!” repeated Kmita.
“The scoundrel!” cried Zagloba.
“But it is a wonder to me that the prince voevoda gave her to
Boguslav,” said Pan Yan.
“I am not a statesman, therefore I repeat only what the officers said,
and namely Ganhoff, who knew all the secrets of the prince; I heard
with my own ears how some one cried out in his presence, ‘Kmita will
have nothing after our young prince!’ and Ganhoff answered, ‘There is
more of politics in this removal than love. Prince Boguslav,’ said he,
‘lets no one off; but if the lady resists he will not be able to treat
her like others, in Taurogi, for a noise would be made. Yanush’s
princess is living there with her daughter; therefore Boguslav must be
very careful, for he seeks the hand of his cousin. It will be hard for
him to simulate virtue,’ said he, ‘but he must in Taurogi.’”
“A stone has of course fallen from your heart,” cried Zagloba, “for
from this it is clear that nothing threatens the lady.”
“But why did they take her away?” cried Kmita.
“It is well that you turn to me,” said Zagloba, “for I reason out
quickly more than one thing over which another would break his head for
a whole year in vain. Why did he take her away? I do not deny that she
must have struck his eye; but he took her away to restrain through her
all the Billeviches, who are numerous and powerful, from rising against
the Radzivills.”
“That may be!” said Kharlamp. “It is certain that in Taurogi he must
curb himself greatly; there he cannot go to extremes.”
“Where is he now?”
“The prince voevoda supposed in Tykotsin that he must be at Elblang
with the King of Sweden, to whom he had to go for reinforcements. It is
certain that he is not in Taurogi at present, for envoys did not find
him there.”
Here Kharlamp turned to Kmita. “If you wish to listen to a simple
soldier I will tell you what I think. If any misadventure has happened
to Panna Billevich in Taurogi, or if the prince has been able to arouse
in her affection, you have no reason to go; but if not, if she is with
Yanush’s widow and will go with her to Courland, it will be safer there
than elsewhere, and a better place could not be found for her in this
whole Commonwealth, covered with the flame of war.”
“If you are a man of such courage as they say, and as I myself think,”
added Pan Yan, “you have first to get Boguslav, and when you have him
in your hands, you have all.”
“Where is he now?” repeated Kmita, turning to Kharlamp.
“I have told you already,” answered Great Nose, “but you are forgetful
from sorrow; I suppose that he is in Elblang, and certainly will take
the field with Karl Gustav against Charnyetski.”
“You will do best if you go with us to Charnyetski, for in this way you
will soon meet Boguslav,” said Volodyovski.
“I thank you, gentlemen, for kindly advice,” cried Kmita. And he began
to take hasty farewell of all, and they did not detain him, knowing
that a suffering man is not good for the cup or for converse; but Pan
Michael said,—
“I will attend you to the archbishop’s palace, for you are so reduced
that you may fall somewhere on the street.”
“And I!” said Pan Yan.
“Then we will all go!” put in Zagloba.
They girded on their sabres, put on warm burkas, and went out. On the
streets there were still more people than before. Every moment the
knights met groups of armed nobles, soldiers, servants of magnates and
nobles, Armenians, Jews, Wallachians, Russian peasants from the suburbs
burned during the two attacks of Hmelnitski.
Merchants were standing before their shops; the windows of the houses
were filled with heads of curious people. All were repeating that the
chambul had come, and would soon march through the city to be presented
to the king. Every living person wished to see that chambul, for it was
a great rarity to look on Tartars marching in peace through the streets
of a city. In other temper had Lvoff seen these guests hitherto; the
city had seen them only beyond the walls, in the form of impenetrable
clouds on the background of flaming suburbs and neighboring villages.
Now they were to march in as allies against Sweden. Our knights were
barely able to open a way for themselves through the throng. Every
moment there were cries; “They are coming, they are coming!” People ran
from street to street, and were packed in such masses that not a step
forward was possible.
“Ha!” said Zagloba, “let us stop a little, Pan Michael. They will
remind us of the near past, for we did not look sidewise but straight
into the eyes of these bull-drivers. And I too have been in captivity
among them. They say that the future Khan is as much like me as one cup
is like another. But why talk of past follies?”
“They are coming, they are coming!” cried the people again.
“God has changed the hearts of the dog-brothers,” continued Zagloba,
“so that instead of ravaging the Russian borders they come to aid us.
This is a clear miracle! For I tell you that if for every pagan whom
this old hand has sent to hell, one of my sins had been forgiven, I
should be canonized now, and people would have to fast on the eve of my
festival, or I should have been swept up living to heaven in a chariot
of fire.”
“And do you remember,” asked Volodyovski, “how it was with them when
they were returning from the Valadynka from Rashkoff to Zbaraj?”
“Of course I do, Pan Michael; but somehow you fell into a hole, and I
chased through the thick wood to the high-road. And when we came back
to find you, the knights could not restrain their astonishment, for at
each bush lay a dead beast of a Tartar.”
Pan Volodyovski remembered that at the time in question it was just the
opposite; but he said nothing, for he was wonderfully astonished, and
before he could recover breath voices were shouting for the tenth time;
“They are coming, they are coming!”
The shout became general; then there was silence, and all heads were
turned in the direction from which the chambul was to come. Now
piercing music was heard in the distance, the crowds began to open from
the middle of the street toward the walls of the houses, and from the
end appeared the first Tartar horsemen.
“See! they have a band even; that is uncommon with Tartars!”
“They wish to make the best impression,” said Pan Yan; “but still some
chambuls after they have lived long in camp, have their own musicians.
That must be a choice body.”
Meanwhile the horsemen had come up and begun to ride past. In front on
a pied horse sat a Tartar holding two pipes in his mouth, and as tawny
as if he had been dried and smoked. Bending his head backward and
closing his eyes, he ran his fingers over those pipes, obtaining from
them notes squeaking, sharp, and so quick that the ear could barely
catch them. After him rode two others holding staffs furnished at the
ends with brass rattles, and they were shaking these rattles as if in
frenzy; farther back some were making shrill sounds with brass plates,
some were beating drums, while others were playing in Cossack fashion
on teorbans; and all, with the exception of the pipers were singing, or
rather howling, from moment to moment, a wild song, at the same time
showing their teeth and rolling their eyes. After that chaotic music,
which went like a brawl past the dwellers in Lvoff, clattered horses
four abreast; the whole party was made up of about four hundred men.
This was in fact a chosen body, as a specimen, and to do honor to the
King of Poland, for his own use, and as an earnest sent by the Khan.
They were led by Akbah Ulan, of the Dobrudja, therefore of the
sturdiest Tartars in battle, an old and experienced warrior, greatly
respected in the Uluses (Tartar villages), because of his bravery and
severity. He rode between the music and the rest of the party, dressed
in a shuba of rose-colored velvet, but greatly faded, and too narrow
for his powerful person; it was lined with tattered marten-skin, he
held in front of him a baton, like those used by Cossack colonels. His
red face had become blue from the cold wind, and he swayed somewhat on
his lofty saddle; from one moment to another he looked from side to
side, or turned his face around to his Tartars, as if not perfectly
sure that they could restrain themselves at sight of the crowds, the
women, the children, the open shops, the rich goods, and that they
would not rush with a shout at those wonders.
But they rode on quietly, like dogs led by chains and fearing the lash,
and only from their gloomy and greedy glances might it be inferred what
was passing in the souls of those barbarians. The crowds gazed on them
with curiosity, though almost with hostility, so great in those parts
of the Commonwealth was hatred of the Pagan. From time to time cries
were heard: “Ahu! ahu!” as if at wolves. Still there were some who
expected much from them.
“The Swedes have a terrible fear of the Tartars, and the soldiers tell
wonders of them, from which their fear increases,” said some, looking
at the Tartars.
“And justly,” answered others. “It is not for the cavalry of Karl to
war with the Tartars, who, especially those of the Dobrudja, are equal
sometimes to our cavalry. Before a Swedish horseman can look around,
the Tartar will have him on a lariat.”
“It is a sin to call sons of Pagans to aid us,” said some voice.
“Sin or no sin, they will serve us.”
“A very decent chambul!” said Zagloba.
Really the Tartars were well dressed in white, black, and party-colored
sheepskin coats, the wool on the outside; black bows, and quivers full
of arrows were shaking on their shoulders; each had besides a sabre,
which was not always the case in large chambuls, for the poorest were
not able to obtain such a luxury, using in hand-to-hand conflict a
horse-skull fastened to a club. But these were men, as was said, to be
exhibited; therefore some of them had even muskets in felt cases, and
all were sitting on good horses, small, it is true, rather lean and
short, with long forelocks on their faces, but of incomparable
swiftness.
In the centre of the party went also four camels: the crowd concluded
that in their packs were presents from the Khan to the king; but in
that they were mistaken, for the Khan chose to take gifts, not give
them; he promised, it is true, reinforcements, but not for nothing.
When they had passed, Zagloba said: “That aid will cost dear. Though
allies, they will ruin the country. After the Swedes and them, there
will not be one sound roof in the Commonwealth.”
“It is sure that they are terribly grievous allies,” said Pan Yan.
“I have heard on the road,” said Pan Michael, “that the king has made a
treaty, that to every five hundred of the horde is to be given one of
our officers, who is to have command and the right of punishment.
Otherwise these friends would leave only heaven and earth behind them.”
“But this is a small chambul; what will the king do with it?”
“The Khan sent them to be placed at the disposal of the king almost as
a gift; and though he will make account of them, still the king can do
what he likes with them, and undoubtedly he will send them with us to
Charnyetski.”
“Well, Charnyetski will be able to keep them in bounds.”
“Not unless he is among them, otherwise they will plunder. It cannot
be, but they will give them an officer at once.”
“And will he lead them? But what will that big Agá do?”
“If he does not meet a fool, he will carry out orders.”
“Farewell, gentlemen!” cried Kmita, on a sudden.
“Whither in such haste?”
“To fall at the king’s feet, and ask him to give me command of these
people.”