Zagloba in unbroken despair betook himself to Charnyetski, with a
request that he would send to the Swedes to see what had happened to
Kovalski. Is he alive yet, is he groaning in captivity, or has he paid
with his life for his daring?
Charnyetski agreed to this willingly, for he loved Zagloba. Then
comforting him in his suffering, he said,—
“I think your sister’s son must be alive, otherwise the water would
have brought him ashore.”
“God grant that he is!” answered Zagloba; “still it would be hard for
the water to raise him, for not only had he a heavy hand, but his wit
was like lead, as is shown by his action.”
“You speak justly,” answered Charnyetski. “If he is alive I ought to
give orders to drag him with a horse over the square, for disregard of
discipline. He might alarm the Swedish army, but he has alarmed both
armies; besides, he was not free to touch the Swedes without command
and my order. Is this a general militia or what the devil, that every
man has a right to act on his own account?”
“He has offended, I agree; I will punish him myself, if only the Lord
will bring him back.”
“But I forgive him in remembrance of the Rudnik affair. I have many
prisoners to exchange, and more distinguished officers than Kovalski.
Do you go to the Swedes and negotiate about exchange; I will give two
or three for him if need be, for I do not wish to make your heart
bleed. Come to me for a letter to the king, and go quickly.”
Zagloba sprang with rejoicing to Kmita’s tent, and told his comrades
what had happened. Pan Andrei and Volodyovski exclaimed at once that
they too would go with him, for both were curious to see the Swedes;
besides Kmita might be very useful, since he spoke German almost as
fluently as Polish.
Preparations did not delay them long. Charnyetski, without waiting for
the return of Zagloba, sent the letter by a messenger; then they
provided a piece of white cloth fixed to a pole, took a trumpeter, sat
in a boat, and moved on.
At first they went in silence, nothing save the plash of oars was to be
heard; at last Zagloba was somewhat alarmed and said,—
“Lot the trumpeter announce us immediately, for those scoundrels are
ready to fire in spite of the white flag.”
“What do you say?” answered Volodyovski; “even barbarians respect
envoys, and this is a civilized people.”
“Let the trumpeter sound, I say. The first soldier who happens along
will fire, make a hole in the boat, and we shall get into the water;
the water is cold, and I have no wish to get wet through their
courtesy.”
“There, a sentry is visible!” said Kmita.
The trumpeter sounded. The boat shot forward quickly; on the other
shore a hurried movement began, and soon a mounted officer rode up,
wearing a yellow leather cap. When he had approached the edge of the
water he shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look against the
light. A few yards from the shore Kmita removed his cap in greeting;
the officer bowed to him with equal politeness.
“A letter from Pan Charnyetski to the Most Serene King of Sweden!”
cried Pan Andrei, showing the letter.
The guard standing on the shore presented arms. Pan Zagloba was
completely reassured; presently he fixed his countenance in dignity
befitting his position as an envoy, and said in Latin,—
“The past night a certain cavalier was seized on this shore; I have
come to ask for him.”
“I cannot speak Latin,” answered the officer.
“Ignoramus!” muttered Zagloba.
The officer turned then to Pan Andrei,—
“The king is in the farther end of the camp. Be pleased, gentlemen, to
stay here; I will go and announce you.” And he turned his horse.
The envoys looked around. The camp was very spacious, for it embraced
the whole triangle formed by the San and the Vistula. At the summit of
the triangle lay Panyev, at the base Tarnobjeg on one side, and
Rozvadov on the other. Apparently it was impossible to take in the
whole extent at a glance; still, as far as the eye could reach, were to
be seen trenches, embankments, earthworks, and fascines at which were
cannons and men. In the very centre of the place, in Gojytsi, were the
quarters of the king; there also the main forces of the army.
“If hunger does not drive them out of this place, we can do nothing
with them,” said Kmita. “The whole region is fortified. There is
pasture for horses.”
“But there are not fish for so many mouths,” said Zagloba. “Lutherans
do not like fasting food. Not long since they had all Poland, now they
have this wedge; let them sit here in safety, or go back to Yaroslav.”
“Very skilful men made these trenches,” added Volodyovski, looking with
the eye of a specialist on the work. “We have more swordsmen, but fewer
learned officers; and in military art we are behind others.”
“Why is that?” asked Zagloba.
“Why? It does not beseem me as a soldier who has served all his life in
the cavalry, to say this, but everywhere infantry and cannon are the
main thing; hence those campaigns and military manœuvres, marches, and
countermarches. A man in a foreign army must devour a multitude of
books and turn over a multitude of Roman authors before he becomes a
distinguished officer; but there is nothing of that with us. Cavalry
rushes into the smoke in a body, and shaves with its sabres; and if it
does not shave off in a minute, then they shave it off.”
“You speak soundly, Pan Michael; but what nation has won so many famous
victories?”
“Yes, because others in old times warred in the same way, and not
having the same impetus they were bound to lose; but now they have
become wiser, and see what they are doing.”
“Wait for the end. Place for me now the wisest Swedish or German
engineer, and against him I will put Roh, who has never turned over
books, and let us see.”
“If you could put him,” interrupted Kmita.
“True, true! I am terribly sorry for him. Pan Andrei, jabber a little
in that dog’s language of those breeches fellows, and ask what has
happened to Roh.”
“You do not know regular soldiers. Here no man will open his lips to
you without an order; they are stingy of speech.”
“I know that they are surly scoundrels. While if to our nobles, and
especially to the general militia, an envoy comes, immediately talk,
talk, they will drink gorailka with him, and will enter into political
discussion with him; and see how these fellows stand there like posts
and bulge out their eyes at us! I wish they would smother to the last
man!”
In fact, more and more foot-soldiers gathered around the envoys,
looking at them curiously. The envoys were dressed so carefully in
elegant and even rich garments, that they made an imposing appearance.
Zagloba arrested most attention, for he bore himself with almost
senatorial dignity; Volodyovski was less considered, by reason of his
stature.
Meanwhile the officer who received them first on the bank returned with
another of higher rank, and with soldiers leading horses. The superior
officer bowed to the envoys and said in Polish,—
“His Royal Grace asks you, gentlemen, to his quarters; and since they
are not very near we have brought horses.”
“Are you a Pole?” asked Zagloba.
“No, I am a Cheh,—Sadovski, in the Swedish service.”
Kmita approached him at once. “Do you know me?”
Sadovski looked at him quickly. “Of course! At Chenstohova you blew up
the largest siege gun, and Miller gave you to Kuklinovski. I greet you,
greet you heartily as a famous knight.”
“And what is going on with Kuklinovski?” asked Kmita.
“But do you not know?”
“I know that I paid him with that with which he wanted to treat me, but
I left him alive.”
“He died.”
“I thought he would freeze to death,” said Pan Andrei, waving his hand.
“Worthy Colonel,” put in Zagloba, “have you not a certain Roh
Kovalski?”
Sadovski laughed: “Of course.”
“Praise be to God and the Most Holy Lady! The lad is alive and I shall
get him. Praise be to God!”
“I do not know whether the king will be willing to yield him up,” said
Sadovski.
“But why not?”
“Because he has pleased him greatly. He recognized him at once as the
same man who had pushed after him with such vigor at Rudnik. We held
our sides listening to the narrative of the prisoner. The king asked:
‘Why did you pick me out?’ and he answered, ‘I made a vow.’ Then the
king asked again, ‘But will you do so again?’ ‘Of course!’ answered the
prisoner. The king began to laugh. ‘Put away your vow,’ said he, ‘and I
will give you your life and freedom.’ ‘Impossible!’ ‘Why?’ ‘For my
uncle would proclaim me a fool.’ ‘And are you so sure that you could
manage me in a hand-to-hand fight?’ ‘Oh, I could manage five men like
you,’ said he. Then the king asked again: ‘And do you dare to raise
your hand against majesty?’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘for you have a vile
faith.’ They interpreted every word to the king, and he was more and
more pleased, and continued to repeat: ‘This man has pleased me.’ Then
wishing to see whether in truth he had such strength, he gave orders to
choose twelve of the strongest men in camp and bring them to wrestle in
turn with the prisoner. But he is a muscular fellow! When I came away
he had stretched out ten one after another, and not a man of them could
rise again. We shall arrive just at the end of the amusement.”
“I recognize Roh, my blood!” said Zagloba. “We will give for him even
three famous officers!”
“You will find the king in good humor,” said Sadovski, “which is a rare
thing nowadays.”
“Oh, I believe that!” answered the little knight.
Meanwhile Sadovski turned to Kmita, and asked how he had not only freed
himself from Kuklinovski, but put an end to him. Kmita told him in
detail. Sadovski, while listening, seized his own head with amazement;
at last he pressed Kmita’s hand again, and said,—
“Believe me, I am sincerely glad; for though I serve the Swedes, every
true soldier’s heart rejoices when a real cavalier puts down a ruffian.
I must acknowledge to you that when a daring man is found among you,
one must look with a lantern through the universe to find his equal.”
“You are a courteous officer,” said Zagloba.
“And a famous soldier, we know that,” added Volodyovski.
“I learned courtesy and the soldier’s art from you,” answered Sadovski,
touching his cap.
Thus they conversed, vying with one another in courtesy, till they
reached Grojytsi, where the king’s quarters were. The whole village was
occupied by soldiers of various arms. Our envoys looked with curiosity
at the groups scattered among the fences. Some, wishing to sleep away
their hunger, were dozing around cottages, for the day was very clear
and warm; some were playing dice on drums, drinking beer; some were
hanging their clothes on the fences; others were sitting in front of
the cottages singing Scandinavian songs, rubbing with brick-dust their
breastplates and helmets, from which bright gleams went forth. In
places they were cleaning horses, or leading them out; in a word, camp
life was moving and seething under the bright sky. There were men, it
is true, who bore signs of terrible toil and hunger, but the sun
covered their leanness with gold; besides, days of rest were beginning
for those incomparable warriors, therefore they took courage at once,
and assumed a military bearing. Volodyovski admired them in spirit,
especially the infantry regiments, famous through the whole world for
endurance and bravery. Sadovski gave explanations as they passed,
saying,—
“This is the Smaland regiment of the royal guard. This is the infantry
of Delekarlia, the very best.”
“In God’s name, what little monsters are these?” cried Zagloba on a
sudden, pointing to a group of small men with olive complexions and
black hair hanging on both sides of their heads.
“Those are Laplanders, who belong to the remotest Hyperboreans.”
“Are they good in battle? It seems to me that I might take three in
each hand and strike with their heads till I was tired.”
“You could surely do so. They are useless in battle. The Swedes bring
them for camp servants, and partly as a curiosity. But they are the
most skilful of wizards; each of them has at least one devil in his
service, and some have five.”
“How do they get such friendship with evil spirits?” asked Kmita,
making the sign of the cross.
“Because they wander in night, which with them lasts half a year or
more; and you know that it is easier to hold converse with the Devil at
night.”
“But have they souls?”
“It is unknown; but I think that they are more in the nature of
animals.”
Kmita turned his horse, caught one of the Laplanders by the shoulders,
raised him up like a cat, and examined him curiously; then he put him
on his feet, and said,—
“If the king would give me one such, I would give orders to have him
dried and hung up in the church in Orsha, where, among other
curiosities, are ostrich eggs.”
“In Lubni, at the parish church, there were jaws of a whale or even of
a giant,” said Volodyovski.
“Let us go on, for something evil will fall on us here,” said Zagloba.
“Let us go,” repeated Sadovski. “To tell the truth, I ought to have had
bags put on your heads, as is the custom; but we have nothing here to
hide, and that you have looked on the trenches is all the better for
us.”
They spurred on their horses, and after a while were before the castle
at Gojytsi. In front of the gate they sprang from their saddles, and
advanced on foot; for the King was before the house.
They saw a large number of generals and very celebrated officers. Old
Wittemberg was there, Douglas, Löwenhaupt, Miller, Erickson, and many
others. All were sitting on the balcony, a little behind the king,
whose chair was pushed forward; and they looked on the amusement which
Karl Gustav was giving himself with the prisoner. Roh had just
stretched out the twelfth cavalier, and was in a coat torn by the
wrestlers, panting and sweating greatly. When he saw his uncle in
company with Kmita and Volodyovski, he thought at once that they too
were prisoners. He stared at them, opened his mouth, and advanced a
couple of steps; but Zagloba gave him a sign with his hand to stand
quietly, and the envoy stood himself with his comrades before the face
of the king.
Sadovski presented the envoys; they bowed low, as custom and etiquette
demanded, then Zagloba delivered Charnyetski’s letter.
The king took the letter, and began to read; meanwhile the Polish
envoys looked at him with curiosity, for they had never seen him
before. He was a man in the flower of his age, as dark in complexion as
though born an Italian or a Spaniard. His long hair, black as a raven’s
wing, fell behind his ears to his shoulders. In brightness and color
his eyes brought to mind Yeremi Vishnyevetski; his brows were greatly
elevated, as if he were in continual astonishment. In the place where
the brows approached, his forehead was raised in a large protuberance,
which made him resemble a lion; a deep wrinkle above his nose, which
did not leave him even when he was laughing, gave his face a
threatening and wrathful expression. His lower lip protruded like that
of Yan Kazimir, but his face was heavier and his chin larger; he wore
mustaches in the form of cords, brushed out somewhat at the ends. In
general, his face indicated an uncommon man, one of those who when they
walk over the earth press blood out of it. There was in him grandeur,
the pride of a monarch, the strength of a lion, and the quickness of
genius; but though a kindly smile never left his mouth, there was
lacking that kindness of heart which illuminates a face from within
with a mild light, as a lamp placed in the middle of an alabaster urn
lights it. He sat in the arm-chair, with crossed legs, the powerful
calves of which were indicated clearly from under the black stockings,
and blinking as was his wont, he read with a smile the letter from
Charnyetski. Raising his lids, he looked at Pan Michael, and said,—
“I knew you at once; you slew Kanneberg.”
All eyes were turned immediately on Volodyovski, who, moving his
mustaches, bowed and answered,—
“At the service of your Royal Grace.”
“What is your office?” asked the king.
“Colonel of the Lauda squadron.”
“Where did you serve before?”
“With the voevoda of Vilna.”
“And did you leave him with the others? You betrayed him and me.”
“I was bound to my own king, not to your Royal Grace.”
The king said nothing; all foreheads were frowning, eyes began to bore
into Pan Michael; but he stood calmly, merely moving his mustaches time
after time.
All at once the king said,—
“It is pleasant for me to know such a famous cavalier. Kanneberg passed
among us as incomparable in hand-to-hand conflict. You must be the
first sabre in the kingdom?”
“_In universo_ (In the universe)!” said Zagloba.
“Not the last,” answered Volodyovski.
“I greet you, gentlemen, heartily. For Pan Charnyetski I have a real
esteem as for a great soldier, though he broke his word to me, for he
ought to be sitting quietly till now in Syevej.”
“Your Royal Grace,” said Kmita, “Pan Charnyetski was not the first to
break his word, but General Miller, who seized Wolf’s regiment of royal
infantry.”
Miller advanced a step, looked in the face of Kmita, and began to
whisper something to the king, who, blinking all the time, listened
attentively; looking at Pan Andrei, he said at last,—
“I see that Pan Charnyetski has sent me chosen cavaliers. I know from
of old that there is no lack of daring men among you; but there is a
lack of faith in keeping promises and oaths.”
“Holy are the words of your Royal Grace,” answered Zagloba.
“How do you understand that?”
“If it were not for this vice of our people, your Royal Grace would not
be here.”
The king was silent awhile; the generals again frowned at the boldness
of the envoys.
“Yan Kazimir himself freed you from the oath,” said Karl, “for he left
you and took refuge abroad.”
“From the oath we can be freed only by the Vicar of Christ, who resides
in Rome; and he has not freed us.”
“A truce to that!” said the king. “I have acquired the kingdom by
this,” here he struck his sword, “and by this I will hold it. I do not
need your suffrages nor your oaths. You want war, you will have it. I
think that Pan Charnyetski remembers Golembo yet.”
“He forgot it on the road from Yaroslav,” answered Zagloba.
The king, instead of being angry, smiled: “I’ll remind him of it.”
“God rules the world.”
“Tell him to visit me; I shall be glad to receive him. But he must
hurry, for as soon as my horses are in condition I shall march
farther.”
“Then we shall receive your Royal Grace,” said Zagloba, bowing and
placing his hand slightly on his sabre.
“I see,” said the king, “that Pan Charnyetski has sent in the embassy
not only the best sabres, but the best mouth. In a moment you parry
every thrust. It is lucky that the war is not of words, for I should
find an opponent worthy of my power. But I will come to the question.
Pan Charnyetski asks me to liberate this prisoner, offering two
officers of distinction in return. I do not set such a low price on my
soldiers as you think, and I have no wish to redeem them too cheaply;
that would be against my own and their ambition, but since I can refuse
Pan Charnyetski nothing, I will make him a present of this cavalier.”
“Gracious Lord,” answered Zagloba, “Pan Charnyetski did not wish to
show contempt for Swedish officers, but compassion for me; for this is
my sister’s son, and I, at the service of your Royal Grace, am Pan
Charnyetski’s adviser.”
“In truth,” said the king, “I ought not to let the prisoner go, for he
has made a vow against me, unless he will give up his vow in view of
this favor.”
Here he turned to Roh, who was standing in front of the porch, and
beckoned: “But come nearer, you strong fellow!”
Roh approached a couple of steps, and stood erect.
“Sadovski,” said the king, “ask him if he will let me go in case I free
him.”
Sadovski repeated the king’s question.
“Impossible!” cried Roh.
The king understood without an interpreter, and began to clap his hands
and blink.
“Well, well! How can I set such a man free? He has twisted the necks of
twelve horsemen, and promises me as the thirteenth. Good, good! the
cavalier has pleased me. Is he Pan Charnyetski’s adviser too? If he is,
I will let him go all the more quickly.”
“Keep your mouth shut!” muttered Zagloba to Roh.
“A truce to amusement!” said the king, suddenly. “Take him, and have
still one more proof of my clemency. I can forgive, as the lord of this
kingdom, since such is my will and favor; but I will not enter into
terms with rebels.”
Here the king frowned, and the smile left his face: “Whoso raises his
hand against me is a rebel, for I am his lawful king. Only from
kindness to you have I not punished hitherto as was proper. I have been
waiting for you to come to your minds; but the hour will strike when
kindness will be exhausted and the day of punishment will rise. Through
your self-will and instability the country is flaming with fire;
through your disloyalty blood is flowing. But I tell you the last days
are passing; you do not wish to hear admonitions, you do not wish to
obey laws, you will obey the sword and the gallows!”
Lightnings flashed in Karl’s eyes. Zagloba looked on him awhile with
amazement, unable to understand whence that storm had come after fair
weather; finally he too began to grow angry, therefore he bowed and
said only,—
“We thank your Royal Grace.”
Then he went off, and after him Kmita, Volodyovski, and Roh Kovalski.
“Gracious, gracious!” said Zagloba, “and before you can look around he
bellows in your ear like a bear. Beautiful end to an embassy! Others
give honor with a cup at parting, but he with the gallows! Let him hang
dogs, not nobles! O my God! how grievously we have sinned against our
king, who was a father, is a father, and will be a father, for there is
a Yagyellon heart in him. And such a king traitors deserted, and went
to make friendship with scarecrows from beyond the sea. We are served
rightly, for we were not worthy of anything better. Gibbets! gibbets!
He is fenced in, and we have squeezed him like curds in a bag, so that
whey is coming out, and still he threatens with sword and gibbet. Wait
awhile! The Cossack caught a Tartar, and the Tartar has him by the
head. It will be closer for you yet.—Roh, I wanted to give you a slap
on the face or fifty blows on a carpet, but I forgive you now since you
acted so like a cavalier and promised to hunt him still farther. Let me
kiss you, for I am delighted with you.”
“Uncle is still glad!” said Roh.
“The gibbet and the sword! And he told that to my eyes,” said Zagloba
again, after a while. “You have protection! The wolf protects in the
same fashion a sheep for his own eating. And when does he say that?
Now, when there is goose skin on his own back. Let him take his
Laplanders for counsellors, and with them seek Satan’s aid. But the
Most Holy Lady will help us, as she did Pan Bobola in Sandomir when
powder threw him and his horse across the Vistula, and he was not hurt.
He looked around to see where he was, and arrived in time to dine with
the priest. With such help we will pull them all by the necks like
lobsters out of a wicker trap.”