The sword-bearer of Rossyeni returned a few days later. In spite of the
safe-conduct of Boguslav, he went only to Rossyeni; to Billeviche
itself he had no reason to go, for it was no longer in the world. The
house, the buildings, the village, everything was burned to the ground
in the last battle, which Father Strashevich, a Jesuit, had fought at
the head of his own detachment against the Swedish captain Rossa. The
inhabitants were in the forests or in armed parties. Instead of rich
villages there remained only land and water.
The roads were filled with “ravagers,”—that is, fugitives from various
armies, who, going in considerable groups, were busied with robbery, so
that even small parties of soldiers were not safe from them. The
sword-bearer then had not even been able to convince himself whether
the barrels filled with plate and money and buried in the garden were
safe, and he returned to Taurogi, very angry and peevish, with a
terrible animosity in his heart against the destroyers.
He had barely put foot out of his carriage, when Olenka hurried him to
her own room, and recounted all that Hassling-Kettling had told her.
The old soldier shivered at the recital, since, not having children of
his own, he loved the maiden as his daughter. For a while he did
nothing but grasp his sword-hilt, repeating, “Strike, who has courage!”
At last he caught himself by the head, and began to say,—
“_Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa_ (It is my fault, my greatest fault); for
at times it came into my head, and this and that man whispered that
that hell-dweller was melting from love of you, and I said nothing, was
even proud, thinking: ‘Well, he will marry! We are relatives of the
Gosyevskis, of the Tyzenhauzes; why should we not be relatives of the
Radzivills?’ For pride, God is punishing me. The traitor prepared a
respectable relationship. That’s the kind of relative he wanted to be.
I would he were killed! But wait! this hand and this sabre will moulder
first.”
“We must think of escape,” said Olenka.
“Well, give your plans of escape.”
The sword-bearer, having finished panting, listened carefully; at last
he said,—
“Better collect my subjects and form a party! I will attack the Swedes
as Kmita did Hovanski. You will be safer in the forest and in the field
than in the court of a traitor and a heretic.”
“That is well,” answered the lady.
“Not only will I not oppose,” said the sword-bearer, “but I will say
the sooner the better. And I lack neither subjects nor scythes. They
burned my residence, never mind that! I will assemble peasants from
other villages. All the Billeviches in the field will join us. We will
show you relationship, young man,—we will show what it is to attack the
Billevich honor. You are a Radzivill! What of that? There are no
hetmans in the Billevich family, but there are also no traitors! We
shall see whom all Jmud will follow! We will put you in Byalovyej and
return ourselves,” said he, turning to Olenka. “It cannot be otherwise!
He must give satisfaction for that affair, for it is an injustice to
the whole estate of nobles. Infamous is he who does not declare for us!
God will help us, our brethren will help us, citizens will help us, and
then fire and sword! The Billeviches will meet the Radzivills! Infamous
he who is not with us! infamous he who will not flash his sword in the
eyes of the traitor! The king is with us; so is the Diet, so is the
whole Commonwealth.”
Here the sword-bearer, red as blood and with bristling forelock, fell
to pounding the table with his fist.
“This war is more urgent than the Swedish, for in us the whole order of
knighthood, all laws, the whole Commonwealth is injured and shaken in
its deepest foundations. Infamous is he who does not understand this!
The land will perish unless we measure out vengeance and punishment on
the traitor!”
And the old blood played more and more violently, till Olenka was
forced to pacify her uncle. He sat calmly, then, though he thought that
not only the country, but the whole world was perishing when the
Billeviches were touched; in this he saw the most terrible precipice
for the Commonwealth, and began to roar like a lion.
But the lady, who had great influence over him, was able at last to
pacify her uncle, explaining that for their safety and for the success
of their flight it was specially needful to preserve the profoundest
secrecy, and not to show the prince that they were thinking of
anything.
He promised sacredly to act according to her directions; then they took
counsel about the flight itself. The affair was not over-difficult, for
it seemed that they were not watched at all. The sword-bearer decided
to send in advance a youth, with letters to his overseers to assemble
peasants at once from all the villages belonging to him and the other
Billeviches, and to arm them.
Six confidential servants were to go to Billeviche, as it were, for the
barrels of money and silver, but really to halt in the Girlakol
forests, and wait there with horses, bags, and provisions. They decided
to depart from Taurogi in sleighs and accompanied by two servants, as
if going merely to the neighboring Gavna; afterward they would mount
horses and hurry on with all speed. To Gavna they used to go often to
visit the Kuchuk-Olbrotovskis, where sometimes they passed the night;
they hoped therefore that their journey would not attract the attention
of any one, and that no pursuit would follow, unless two or three days
later, at which time they would be in the midst of armed bands and in
the depth of impenetrable forests. The absence of Prince Boguslav
strengthened them in this hope.
Meanwhile the sword-bearer was greatly busied with preparations. A
messenger with letters went out on the following morning. The day after
that, Pan Tomash talked in detail with Patterson of his buried money,
which, as he said, exceeded a hundred thousand, and of the need of
bringing it to safe Taurogi. Patterson believed easily; for Billevich
was a noble and passed as a very rich man, which he was in reality.
“Let them bring it as soon as possible,” said the Scot; “if you need
them, I will give you soldiers.”
“The fewer people who see what I am bringing the better. My servants
are faithful, and I will order them to cover the barrels with hemp,
which is brought often from our villages to Prussia, or with staves
which no one will covet.”
“Better with staves,” said Patterson; “for people could feel with a
sabre or a spear through the hemp that there was something else in the
wagon. But you would better give the coin to the prince on his
recognition. I know, too, that he needs money, for his revenues do not
come regularly.”
“I should like so to serve the prince that he would never need
anything,” answered the old man.
The conversation ended there, and all seemed to combine most favorably,
for the servants started at once, while the sword-bearer and Olenka
were to go next morning. But in the evening Boguslav returned most
unexpectedly at the head of two regiments of Prussian cavalry. His
affairs seemed to advance not too favorably, for he was angry and
fretful.
That evening he summoned a council of war, which was composed of the
representatives of the elector. Count Seydevitz, Patterson, Sakovich,
and Kyritz, a colonel of cavalry. They sat till three in the morning;
and the object of their deliberation was the campaign to Podlyasye
against Sapyeha.
“The elector and the King of Sweden have reinforced me in proportion to
their strength,” said the prince. “One of two things will
happen,—either I shall find Sapyeha in Podlyasye, and in that event I
must rub him out; or I shall not find him, and I shall occupy Podlyasye
without resistance. For all this, however, money is needed; and money
neither the elector nor the King of Sweden has given me, for they
haven’t it themselves.”
“Where is money to be found if not with your highness?” asked
Seydevitz. “Through the whole world men speak of the inexhaustible
wealth of the Radzivills.”
“Pan Seydevitz,” answered Boguslav, “if I received all the income from
my inherited estates, I should surely have more money than five of your
German princes taken together. But there is war in the country;
revenues do not come in, or are intercepted by rebels. Ready money
might be obtained for notes from the Prussian towns; but you know best
what is happening in them, and that purses are opened only for Yan
Kazimir.”
“But Königsberg?”
“I took what I could get, but that was little.”
“I think myself fortunate to be able to serve you with good counsel,”
said Patterson.
“I would rather you served me with ready money.”
“My counsel means ready money. Not longer ago than yesterday Pan
Billevich told me that he had a good sum hidden in the garden of
Billeviche, and that he wishes to bring it here for safety, and give it
to your highness for a note.”
“Well, you have really fallen from heaven to me, and this noble as
well!” cried Boguslav. “But has he much money?”
“More than a hundred thousand, besides silver and valuables, which are
worth perhaps an equal amount.”
“The silver and valuables he will not wish to turn into money, but they
can be pawned. I am thankful to you, Patterson, for this comes to me in
time. I must talk to Billevich in the morning.”
“Then I will forewarn him, for he is preparing to go to-morrow with the
lady to Gavna to the Kuchuk-Olbrotovskis.”
“Tell him not to go till he sees me.”
“He has sent the servants already; I am only alarmed for their safety.”
“A whole regiment can be sent after them; but we will talk later. This
is timely for me, timely! And it will be amusing if I rend Podlyasye
from the Commonwealth with the money of this royalist and patriot.”
Then the prince dismissed the council, for he had to put himself yet in
the hands of his chamber attendants, whose task it was every night
before he went to rest to preserve his uncommon beauty with baths,
ointments, and various inventions known only in foreign lands. This
lasted usually an hour, and sometimes two; besides, the prince was
road-weary and the hour late.
Early in the morning Patterson detained Billevich and Olenka with the
announcement that the prince wished to see them. It was necessary to
defer their journey; but this did not disturb them over-much, for
Patterson told what the question was.
An hour later the prince appeared. In spite of the fact that Pan Tomash
and Olenka had promised each other most faithfully to receive him in
former fashion, they could not do so, though they tried with every
effort.
Olenka’s countenance changed, and blood came to the face of the
sword-bearer at sight of Prince Boguslav; for a time both stood
confused, excited, striving in vain to regain their usual calmness.
The prince, on the contrary, was perfectly at ease. He had grown a
little meagre about the eyes, and his face was less colored than
common; but that paleness of his was set off wonderfully by the
pearl-colored morning dress, interwoven with silver. He saw in a moment
that they received him somewhat differently, and were less glad than
usual to see him. But he thought at once that those two royalists had
learned of his relations with the Swedes; hence the coolness of the
reception. Therefore he began at once to throw sand in their eyes, and,
after the compliments of greeting, said,—
“Lord Sword-bearer, my benefactor, you have heard, without doubt, what
misfortunes have met me.”
“Does your highness wish to speak of the death of Prince Yanush?” asked
the sword-bearer.
“Not of his death alone. That was a cruel blow; still, I yielded to the
will of God, Who, as I hope, has rewarded my cousin for all the wrongs
done him; but He has sent a new burden to me, for I must be leader in a
civil war; and that for every citizen who loves his country is a bitter
portion.”
The sword-bearer said nothing; he merely looked a little askance at
Olenka. But the prince continued,—
“By my labor and toil, and God alone knows at what outlay, I had
brought peace to the verge of realization. It was almost a question of
merely signing the treaties. The Swedes were to leave Poland, asking no
remuneration save the consent of the king and the estates that after
the death of Yan Kazimir Karl Gustav would be chosen to the throne of
Poland. A warrior so great and mighty would be the salvation of the
Commonwealth. And what is more important, he was to furnish at once
reinforcements for the war in the Ukraine and against Moscow. We should
have extended our boundaries; but this was not convenient for Pan
Sapyeha, for then he could not crush the Radzivills. All agreed to this
treaty. He alone opposes it with armed hand. The country is nothing to
him, if he can only carry out his personal designs. It has come to
this, that arms must be used against him. This function has been
confided to me, according to the secret treaty between Yan Kazimir and
Karl Gustav. This is the whole affair! I have never shunned any
service, therefore I must accept this; though many will judge me
unjustly, and think that I begin a brother-killing war from pure
revenge only.”
“Whoso knows your highness,” said the sword-bearer, “as well as we do
will not be deceived by appearances, and will always be able to
understand the real intentions of your highness.”
Here the sword-bearer was so delighted with his own cunning and
courtesy, and he muttered so expressively at Olenka, that she was
alarmed lest the prince should notice those signs.
And he did notice them. “They do not believe me,” thought he. And
though he showed no wrath on his face, Billevich had pricked him to the
soul. He was convinced with perfect sincerity that it was an offence
not to believe, a Radzivill, even when he saw fit to lie.
“Patterson has told me,” continued he, after a while, “that you wish to
give me ready money for my paper. I agree to this willingly; for I
acknowledge that ready money is useful to me at the moment. When peace
comes, you can do as you like,—either take a certain sum, or I will
give you a couple of villages as security, so that the transaction will
be profitable for you.—Pardon,” said the prince, turning to Olenka,
“that in view of such material questions we are not speaking of sighs
or ideals. This conversation is out of place; but the times are such
that it is impossible to give their proper course to homage and
admiration.”
Olenka dropped her eyes, and seizing her robe with the tips of her
fingers, made a proper courtesy, not wishing to give an answer.
Meanwhile the sword-bearer formed in his mind a project of unheard-of
unfitness, but which he considered uncommonly clever.
“I will flee with Olenka and will not give the money,” thought he.
“It will be agreeable to me to accommodate your highness. Patterson has
not told of all, for there is about half a pot of gold ducats buried
apart, so as not to lose all the money in case of accident. Besides,
there are barrels belonging to other Billeviches; but these during my
absence were buried under the direction of this young lady, and she
alone is able to calculate the place, for the man who buried them is
dead.”
Boguslav looked at him quickly. “How is that? Patterson said that you
have already sent men; and since they have gone, they must know where
the money is.”
“But of the other money no one knows, except her.”
“Still it must be buried in some definite place, which can be described
easily in words or indicated on paper.”
“Words are wind; and as to pictures, the servants know nothing of them.
We will both go; that is the thing.”
“For God’s sake! you must know your own gardens. Therefore go alone.
Why should Panna Aleksandra go?”
“I will not go alone!” said Billevich, with decision.
Boguslav looked at him inquiringly a second time; then he seated
himself more comfortably, and began to strike his boots with a cane
which he held in his hand.
“Is that final?” asked he. “Well! In such an event I will give a couple
of regiments of cavalry to take you there and bring you back.”
“We need no regiments. We will go and return ourselves. This is our
country. Nothing threatens us here.”
“As a host, sensitive to the good of his guests, I cannot permit that
Panna Aleksandra should go without armed force. Choose, then. Either go
alone, or let both go with an escort.”
Billevich saw that he had fallen into his own trap; and that brought
him to such anger that, forgetting all precautions, he cried,—
“Then let your highness choose. Either we shall both go unattended, or
I will not give the money!”
Panna Aleksandra looked on him imploringly; but he had already grown
red and begun to pant. Still, he was a man cautious by nature, even
timid, loving to settle every affair in good feeling; but when once the
measure was exceeded in dealing with him, when he was too much excited
against any one, or when it was a question of the Billevich honor, he
hurled himself with a species of desperate daring at the eyes of even
the most powerful enemy. So that now he put his hand to his left side,
and shaking his sabre began to cry with all his might,—
“Is this captivity? Do they wish to oppress a free citizen, and trample
on cardinal rights?”
Boguslav, with shoulders leaning against the arms of the chair, looked
at him attentively; but his look became colder each moment, and he
struck the cane against his boots more and more quickly. Had the
sword-bearer known the prince better, he would have known that he was
bringing down terrible danger on his own head.
Relations with Boguslav were simply dreadful. It was never known when
the courteous cavalier, the diplomat accustomed to self-control, would
be overborne by the wild and unrestrained magnate who trampled every
resistance with the cruelty of an Eastern despot. A brilliant education
and refinement, acquired at the first courts of Europe; reflection and
studied elegance, which he had gained in intercourse with men,—were
like wonderful and strong flowers under which was secreted a tiger.
But the sword-bearer did not know this, and in his angry blindness
shouted on,—
“Your highness, dissemble no further, for you are known! And have a
care, for neither the King of Sweden nor the elector, both of whom you
are serving against your own country, nor your princely position, will
save you before the law; and the sabres of nobles will teach you
manners, young man!”
Boguslav rose; in one instant he crushed the cane in his iron hands,
and throwing the pieces at the feet of the sword-bearer, said with a
terrible, suppressed voice,—
“That is what your rights are for me! That your tribunals! That your
privileges!”
“Outrageous violence!” cried Billevich.
“Silence, paltry noble!” cried the prince. “I will crush you into
dust!” And he advanced to seize the astonished man and hurl him against
the wall.
Now Panna Aleksandra stood between them. “What do you think to do?”
inquired she.
The prince restrained himself. But she stood with nostrils distended,
with flaming face, with fire in her eyes like an angry Minerva. Her
breast heaved under her bodice like a wave of the sea, and she was
marvellous in that anger, so that Boguslav was lost in gazing at her;
all his desires crept into his face, like serpents from the dens of his
soul.
After a time his anger passed, presence of mind returned; he looked
awhile yet at Olenka. At last his face grew mild; he bent his head
toward his breast, and said,—
“Pardon, angelic lady! I have a soul full of gnawing and pain,
therefore I do not command myself.” Then he left the room.
Olenka began to wring her hands; and Billevich, coming to himself,
seized his forelock, and cried,—
“I have spoiled everything; I am the cause of your ruin!”
The prince did not show himself the whole day. He even dined in his own
room with Sakovich. Stirred to the bottom of his soul, he could not
think so clearly as usual. Some kind of ague was wasting him. It was
the herald of a grievous fever which was to seize him soon with such
force that during its attacks he was benumbed altogether, so that his
attendants had to rub him most actively. But at this time he ascribed
his strange state to the power of love, and thought that he must either
satisfy it or die. When he had told Sakovich the whole conversation
with the sword-bearer, he said,—
“My hands and feet are burning, ants are walking along my back, in my
mouth are bitterness and fire; but, by all the horned devils, what is
this? Never has this attacked me before!”
“Your highness is as full of scruples as a baked capon of buckwheat
grits. The prince is a capon, the prince is a capon. Ha, ha!”
“You are a fool!”
“Very well.”
“I don’t need your ideas.”
“Worthy prince, take a lute and go under the windows of the maiden.
Billevich may show you his fist. Tfu! to the deuce! is that the kind of
bold man that Boguslav Radzivill is?”
“You are an idiot!”
“Very well. I see that your highness is beginning to speak with
yourself and tell the truth to your own face. Boldly, boldly! Pay no
heed to rank.”
“You see, Sakovich, that my Castor is growing familiar with me; as it
is, I kick him often in the ribs, but a greater accident may meet you.”
Sakovich sprang up as if red with anger, like Billevich a little while
before; and since he had an uncommon gift of mimicry, he began to cry
in a voice so much like that of Billevich that any one not seeing who
was talking, might have been deceived.
“What! is this captivity? Do they wish to oppress a free citizen, to
trample on cardinal rights?”
“Give us peace! give us peace!” said the prince, fretfully. “She
defended that old fool with her person, but here there is one to defend
you.”
“If she defended him, she should have been taken in pawn!”
“There must be some witchcraft in this place! Either she must have
given me something, or the constellations are such that I am simply
leaving my mind. If you could have seen her when she was defending that
mangy old uncle of hers! But you are a fool! It is growing cloudy in my
head. See how my hands are burning! To love such a woman, to gain
her—with such a woman to—”
“To have posterity!” added Sakovich.
“That’s so, that’s so!—as if you knew that must be; otherwise I shall
burst as a bomb. For God’s sake! what is happening to me? Must I marry,
or what, by all the devils of earth and hell?”
Sakovich grew serious. “Your princely highness, you must not think of
that!”
“I am thinking of just that, precisely because I wish it. I will do
that, though a regiment of Sakoviches repeated a whole day to me, ‘Your
princely highness must not think of that!’”
“Oh, I see this is no joke.”
“I am sick, enchanted.”
“Why do you not follow my advice at last?”
“I must follow it,—may the plague take all the dreams, all the
Billeviches, all Lithuania with the tribunals, and Yan Kazimir to boot!
I shall not succeed otherwise; I see that I shall not! I have had
enough of this, have I not? A great question! And I, the fool, was
considering both sides hitherto; was afraid of dreams, of Billeviches,
of lawsuits, of the rabble of nobles, the fortune of Yan Kazimir. Tell
me that I am a fool! Do you hear? I command you to tell me that I am a
fool!”
“But I will not obey, for now you are really Radzivill, and not a
Calvinist minister. But in truth you must be ill, for I have never seen
you so changed.”
“True! In the most difficult positions I merely waved my hand and
whistled, but now I feel as if some one were thrusting spurs into my
sides.”
“This is strange, for if that maiden has given you something
designedly, she has not done so to run away afterward; but still, from
what you say, it seems that they wish to flee in secret.”
“Ryff told me that this is the influence of Saturn, on which burning
exhalations rise during this particular month.”
“Worthy prince, rather take Jove as a model, for he was happy without
marriage. All will be well; only do not think of marriage, unless of a
counterfeit one.”
All at once the starosta of Oshmiana struck his forehead.
“But wait, your highness! I have heard of such a case in Prussia.”
“Is the Devil whispering something into your ear? Tell me!”
But Sakovich was silent for a long time; at last his face brightened,
and he said,—
“Thank the fortune that gave you Sakovich as friend.”
“What news, what news?”
“Nothing. I will be your highness’s best man” (here Sakovich
bowed),—“no small honor for such a poor fellow!”
“Don’t play the jester; speak quickly!”
“There is in Tyltsa one Plaska, or something like that, who in his time
was a priest in Nyevorani, but who falling away from the faith became a
Lutheran, got married, took refuge under the elector, and now is
dealing in dried fish with people of this region. Bishop Parchevski
tried to lure him back to Jmud, where in good certainty there was a
fire waiting for him; but the elector would not yield up a
fellow-believer.”
“How does that concern me? Do not loiter.”
“How does that concern your highness? In this way it must concern you;
for he will sew you and her together with stitches on the outside, you
understand? And because he is a fool of a workman, and does not belong
to the guild, it will be easy to rip the work after him. Do you see?
The guild does not recognize this sewing as valid; but still there will
be no violence, no outcry; you can twist the neck of the workman
afterward, and you will complain that you were deceived, do you
understand? But before that time _crescite et multiplicamini_. I’ll be
the first to give you my blessing.”
“I understand, and I don’t understand,” said the prince. “The devil I
understand there perfectly. Sakovich, you must have been born, like a
witch, with teeth in your mouth. The hangman is waiting for you; it
cannot be otherwise, O Starosta! But while I live a hair will not fall
from your head; a fitting reward will not miss you. I then—”
“Your highness will make a formal proposal to Panna Billevich, to her
and to her uncle. If they refuse, if they do not consent, then give
command to tear the skin from me, make sandal strings out of it, and go
on a pilgrimage of penance to—to Rome. It is possible to resist a
Radzivill if he wishes simply to be a lover; but if he wishes to marry,
he need not try to please any noble. You must only tell Billevich and
the lady that out of regard for the elector and the King of Sweden, who
want you to marry the Princess of Bipont, your marriage must remain
secret till peace is declared. Besides, you will write the marriage
contract as you like. Both churches will be forced to declare it
invalid. Well, what do you think?”
Boguslav was silent for a while, but on his face red fever-spots
appeared under the paint; then he cried,—
“There is no time in three days. I must move against Sapyeha.”
“That is just the position! Were there more time, it would be
impossible to justify the pretext. Is not this true? Only through lack
of time can you explain that the first priest at hand officiates, as
happens in sudden emergencies, and marries on a bolting-cloth. They
will think too, ‘It is sudden, for it must be sudden!’ She is a
knightly maiden; you can take her with you to the field. Dear
bridegroom, if Sapyeha conquers, even then you will have half the
victories of the campaign.”
“That is well, that is well!” said the prince.
But at that moment the first paroxysm seized him so that his jaws
closed and he could not say another word. He grew rigid, and then began
to quiver and flounder like a fish out of water. But before the
terrified Sakovich could bring the physician, the paroxysm had passed.