Sakovich, after he had seized and flayed Braun, arranged at once a
joint attack on the Billevich party with Hamilton, the commandant of
Ponyevyej, an Englishman in the Swedish service.
Babinich had just disappeared somewhere in the forest, and for a number
of days no report of him had come. But Sakovich would not have regarded
him, even had he been in the neighborhood. He had, it is true, in spite
of all his daring, a certain instinctive dread of Babinich; but this
time he was ready to perish himself, if he could accomplish his
vengeance. From the time of Anusia’s flight rage had not ceased for a
moment to tear his soul. Deceived calculations, and wounded love
especially, brought him to frenzy; and besides the heart was suffering
in him. At first he wished to marry Anusia only for the property willed
her by her first betrothed, Pan Podbipienta; but later he fell in love
with her blindly, and to the death, as only such a man can fall in
love. And it went so far that he who feared no one on earth save
Boguslav, he before whose glance alone people grew pale, gazed like a
dog into the eyes of that maiden, yielded to her, endured her caprices,
carried out all her wishes, strove to divine her thoughts.
She used and abused her influence, deluding him with words, with a
look; used him as a slave, and finally betrayed him.
Sakovich was of those men who consider that only as good and virtuous
which is good for them, and as evil and criminal that which brings them
harm. In his eyes, therefore, Anusia had committed the most terrible
crime, and there was no punishment sufficiently great for her. If the
mishap had met another, the starosta would have laughed and jeered at
the man; but when it touched his own person, he roared as a wounded
wild beast, and thought only of vengeance. He wished to get the guilty
woman into his hands, dead or alive. He would have preferred her alive,
for then he could exercise a cavalier’s vengeance before her death; but
if the maiden had to fall in time of attack, he cared little, if only
she did not come into possession of another.
Wishing to act with certainty, he sent a bribed man to the sword-bearer
with a letter as if from Babinich, in which he announced, in the name
of the latter, that he would be in Volmontovichi in the course of a
week.
Billevich believed easily, trusting therefore in the invincible power
of Babinich; and he made no secret of the arrangement. He not only took
up his headquarters for good in Volmontovichi, but by the announcement
of the news he attracted almost all the population of Lauda. What
remained of it assembled from the forests,—first, because the end of
autumn had come, and there were heavy frosts; and second, through pure
curiosity alone to see the great warrior.
Meanwhile, from the direction of Ponyevyej marched toward Volmontovichi
Hamilton’s Swedes, and from the direction of Kyedani was stealing
forward in wolf-fashion Sakovich.
But Sakovich had no suspicion that on his tracks was advancing in
wolf-fashion also a third man, who without invitation had the habit of
coming where people expected him least.
Kmita knew not that Olenka was with the Billevich party. In Taurogi,
which he ruined with fire and sword, he learned that she had gone with
Anusia; but he supposed that they had gone to Byalovyej, where Pan
Yan’s wife was in hiding as well as many other noble women. He might
the more easily suppose this, since he knew that Billevich had long
intended to take his niece to those impassable forests.
It tortured Pan Andrei immensely that he had not found her in Taurogi,
but at the same time he was glad that she had escaped from the hands of
Sakovich, and would find safe refuge till the end of the war. Not being
able to go for her at once to the wilderness, he determined to attack
and destroy the enemy in Jmud, until he had crushed them completely.
And fortune went with him. For a month and a half victory followed
victory; armed men rushed to him in such numbers that soon his chambul
was barely one fourth of his force. Finally, he drove the enemy out of
all western Jmud; but hearing of Sakovich, and having old scores to
settle with the starosta, he set out for his own former district, and
followed him. In this way both were now drawing near Volmontovichi.
Billevich, who at first had taken a position not far from the village,
had been living there a week, and the thought did not even come to his
head that he would soon have such terrible guests. One evening the
youthful Butryms, herding horses beyond Volmontovichi, informed him
that troops had issued from the forest, and were advancing from the
south. Billevich was too old and experienced a soldier not to take
precautions. Some of his infantry, partly furnished with fire-arms by
the Domasheviches, he placed in the houses recently rebuilt, and some
he stationed at the gate; with the cavalry he took possession himself
of a broad pasture somewhat in the rear, beyond the fences, and which
touched with one side the river. He did this mainly to gain the praise
of Babinich, who must understand skilful dispositions; the place he had
chosen was really a strong one.
After Kmita had burned Volmontovichi, in vengeance for the slaughter of
his comrades, the village was rebuilt by degrees; but as later on the
Swedish war had stopped work on it, a multitude of beams, planks, and
boards were lying on the principal street. Whole piles of them rose up
near the gate; and infantry, even slightly trained, might make a
protracted defence from behind them.
In every case the infantry protected the cavalry from the first onset.
Billevich was so eager to exhibit his military skill to Babinich, that
he sent forward a small party to reconnoitre.
What was his amazement, and at the first moment alarm, when from a
distance and beyond the grove there came to him the sound of musketry;
then his party appeared on the road, but coming at a gallop, with a
crowd of enemies at its shoulders.
The sword-bearer sprang at once to the infantry to give final orders;
but from the grove rushed forth dense groups of the enemy, and advanced
locust-like toward Volmontovichi, with arms glittering in the setting
sun.
The grove was near. When they had approached somewhat, the cavalry
pushed forward at once on a gallop, wishing to pass the gate at a blow;
but the sudden fire of the infantry stopped them on the spot. The first
ranks fell back, and even in considerable disorder; only a few brought
their horses’ breasts to the defences.
The sword-bearer recovered meanwhile, and galloping to the cavalry
ordered all who had pistols or guns to advance to the aid of the
infantry.
Evidently the enemy were equally provided with muskets; for after the
first onset they began a very violent, though irregular fire.
From both sides it thundered now more quickly, now more slowly; the
balls whistling came up to the cavalry, struck on the houses, fence,
piles of timber; the smoke rose over Volmontovichi, the smell of powder
filled the street.
Anusia had what she wanted,—a battle. Both ladies mounted ponies at the
first moment, by command of Billevich, so that at a given signal they
might retreat with the party should the enemy’s forces turn out too
great. They were stationed therefore in the rear ranks of the cavalry.
But though Anusia had a small sabre at her side and a lynx-skin cap on
her head, her soul fled at once into her arms. She who knew so well how
to take counsel in peace with officers, had not one pinch of energy
when she had to stand eye to eye with the sons of Bellona in the field.
The whistle and knocking of balls terrified her; the uproar, the racing
of orderlies, the rattle of muskets, and the groans of the wounded took
away her presence of mind, and the smell of powder stopped the breath
in her breast. She grew faint and weak, her face became pale as a
kerchief, and she squirmed and whimpered like a little child, till
young Pan Olesha from Kyemnar had to hold her by the arms. He held her
firmly, more firmly than was needed; and he was ready to hold her in
that way to the end of the world.
The soldiers around her began to laugh. “A knight in petticoats!”
called voices. “Better set hens and pluck feathers!” Others cried: “Pan
Olesha, that shield has come to your arm; but Cupid will shoot you all
the more easily through it!” And good-humor seized the soldiers.
But others preferred to look at Olenka, who bore herself differently.
At first, when bullets flew past at some distance she grew pale too,
not being able to forbear inclining her head and closing her eyes; but
later knightly blood began to act in her, then with face flushed like a
rose she reared her head and looked forward with fearless eye. Her
distended nostrils drew in as it were with pleasure the smell of
powder. Since the smoke grew thicker and thicker at the gate and
decreased the view greatly, the daring lady, seeing that the officers
were advancing, went with them, to follow more accurately the course of
battle, not even thinking of what she was doing.
In the throng of cavalry there rose a murmur of praise.
“Oh, that is blood! that is the wife for a soldier; she is the right
kind of volunteer!”
“Vivat Panna Billevich!”
“Let us hasten, gracious gentlemen, for it is worth while before such
eyes.”
“The Amazons did not meet muskets better!” cried one of the younger
men, forgetting in his enthusiasm that the Amazons lived before the
invention of powder.
“It is time to finish. The infantry have borne themselves well, and the
enemy are seriously shattered!”
In fact, the enemy could do nothing with their cavalry. Every moment
they urged on their horses, attacked the gate, but after a salvo drew
back in disorder. And as a wave which has fallen upon the flat shore
leaves behind mussels, stones, and dead fish, so after each attack a
number of bodies of horses and men were left on the road before the
gate.
At last the onsets ceased. Only volunteers came up, firing in the
direction of the village with pistols and guns rather thickly, so as to
occupy the attention of Billevich’s men. But the sword-bearer, coming
out along the gutter of the house, saw a movement in the rear ranks of
the enemy toward the fields and thickets extending along the left side
of Volmontovichi.
“They will try from that side!” cried he; and sent immediately a part
of the cavalry between the houses so as to give resistance to the enemy
from the gardens.
In half an hour a new battle was begun on the left wing of the party
and also with fire-arms. The fenced gardens rendered difficult a
hand-to-hand struggle, and equally difficult for both sides.
The enemy, however, being extended over a longer line, were less
exposed to bullets.
The battle was becoming more stubborn and more active, and the enemy
did not cease to attack the gate.
Billevich was growing uneasy. On the right flank he had a field behind
him still free, ending with a stream not very wide, but deep and
swampy, through which a passage, especially if in haste, might be
difficult. In one place only was there a trodden road to a flat shore
along which villagers drove cattle to the forest.
The sword-bearer began to look around oftener toward that side. All at
once among willows which could be seen through, for they had lost their
leaves, he saw in the evening light glittering weapons and a dark cloud
of soldiers.
“Babinich is coming!” thought he.
But at that moment Pan Hjanstovski, who led the cavalry, rushed up to
him.
“Swedish infantry are visible from the river!” cried he, in terror.
“Some treason!” cried Pan Tomash. “By Christ’s wounds, gallop with your
cavalry against that infantry; otherwise it will attack us on the
flank.”
“There is a great force!” answered Hjanstovski.
“Oppose it even for an hour, and we will escape in the rear to the
forests.”
The officer galloped away, and was soon rushing over the field at the
head of two hundred men; seeing which the enemy’s infantry began to
form in the willows to receive the Poles. The squadron urged the
horses, and in the willow-bushes a musketry fire was soon rattling.
Billevich had doubts, not only of victory, but of saving his own
infantry. He might withdraw to the rear with a part of the cavalry with
the ladies, and seek safety in the forest; but such a withdrawal would
be a great defeat, for it meant leaving to the enemy’s sword most of
the party and the remnant of the population of Lauda, which had
collected in Volmontovichi to see Billevich. Volmontovichi itself would
be levelled to the ground. There remained still the lone hope that
Hjanstovski would break the infantry. Meanwhile it was growing dark in
the sky; but in the village the light increased every moment, for the
chips, splinters, and shavings, lying in a heap at the first house near
the gate, had caught fire. The house itself caught fire from them, and
a red conflagration was rising.
By the light of the burning Billevich saw Hjanstovski’s cavalry
returning in disorder and panic; after it the Swedish infantry were
rushing from the willows, advancing to the attack on a run.
He understood then that he must retreat by the only road open. He
rushed to the rest of the cavalry, waved his sword and cried,—
“To the rear, gentlemen, and in order, in order!”
Suddenly shots were heard in the rear also, mingled with shouts of
soldiery.
Billevich saw then that he was surrounded, that he had fallen as it
were into a trap from which there was neither issue nor rescue. It
remained for him only to perish with honor; therefore he sprang out
before the line of cavalry, and cried,—
“Let us fall one upon the other! Let us not spare our blood for the
faith and the country!”
Meanwhile the fire of the infantry defending the gate and the left side
of the village had grown weak, and the increasing shout of the enemy
announced their near victory.
But what mean those hoarse trumpet sounds in the ranks of Sakovich’s
party, and the rattle of drums in the ranks of the Swedes?
Outcries shriller and shriller are heard, in some way wonderful,
confused, as if not triumph but terror rings through them.
The fire at the gate stops in a moment, as if some one had cut it off
with a knife. Groups of Sakovich’s cavalry are flying at break-neck
speed from the left flank to the main road. On the right flank the
infantry halt, and then, instead of advancing, begin to withdraw to the
willows. “What is this?” cried Billevich.
Meanwhile the answer comes from that grove out of which Sakovich had
issued; and now emerge from it men, horses, squadrons, horsetail
standards, sabres, and march—no, they fly like a storm, and not like a
storm,—like a tempest! In the bloody gleams of the fire they are as
visible as a thing on the hand. They are hastening in thousands! The
earth seems to flee from beneath them, and they speed on in dense
column; one would say that some monster had issued from the oak-grove,
and is sweeping across the fields to the village to swallow it. The air
flies before them, driven by the impetus; with them go terror and ruin.
They are almost there! Now the attack! Like a whirlwind they scatter
Sakovich’s men.
“O God! O great God!” cries Billevich, in bewilderment; “these are
ours! That must be Babinich!”
“Babinich!” roared every throat after him.
“Babinich! Babinich!” called terrified voices in Sakovich’s party.
And all the enemy’s cavalry wheel to the right, to escape toward the
infantry. The fence is broken with a sharp crash, under the pressure of
horses’ breasts. The pasture is filled with the fleeing; but the
new-comers, on their shoulders already, cut, slash,—cut without
resting, cut without pity. The whistling of sabres, cries, groans, are
heard. Pursuers and pursued fall upon the infantry, overturn, break,
and scatter them. At last the whole mass rolls on toward the river,
disappears in the brush, clambers out on the opposite bank. Men are
visible yet; the chasing continues, with cutting and cutting. They
recede. Their sabres flash once again; then they vanish in bushes, in
space, and in darkness.
Billevich’s infantry began to withdraw from the gate and the houses,
which needed no further defence. The cavalry stood for a time in such
wonder that deep silence reigned in the ranks; and only when the
flaming house had fallen with a crash was some voice heard on a
sudden,—
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the storm has gone
by!”
“Not a foot will come out alive from that hunt!” said another voice.
“Gracious gentlemen!” cried the sword-bearer, suddenly, “shall we not
spring at those who came at us in the rear? They are retreating, but we
will come up.”
“Kill, slay!” answered a chorus of voices.
All the cavalry wheeled around and urged their horses after the last
division of the enemy. In Volmontovichi remained only old men, women,
children, and “the lady” with her friend.
They quenched the fire in a twinkle; joy inconceivable seized all
hearts. Women with weeping and sobbing raised their hands heavenward,
and turning to the point where Babinich had rushed away, cried,—
“God bless thee, invincible warrior! savior who rescued us, with our
children and houses, from ruin!”
The ancient, decrepit Butryms repeated in chorus,—
“God bless thee, God guide thee! Without thee this would have been the
end of Volmontovichi.”
Ah, had they known in that crowd that the very same hand that had now
saved the village from fire and the people from steel had two years
before brought fire and the sword to that Volmontovichi!
After the fire was quenched, all began to collect in Billevich’s
wounded; the youths in a rage ran through the battle-field, and killed,
with poles from wagon-racks, the wounded left by the Swedes and
Sakovich’s ravagers.
Olenka took command of the nursing. Ever keeping her presence of mind,
full of energy and power, she did not cease her labor till every
wounded man was resting in a cottage, with dressed wounds. Then all the
people followed her example in repeating at the cross a litany for the
dead. Through the whole night no one closed an eye in Volmontovichi;
all were waiting for the return of the sword-bearer and Babinich,
hurrying around at the same time to prepare for the victors a fitting
reception. Oxen and sheep, herded in the forests, went under the knife;
and fires were roaring till morning.
Anusia alone could take no part in anything; for at first fear deprived
her of power, and later her joy was so great that it had the seeming of
madness. Olenka had to care for her; she was laughing and weeping in
turn, and again she threw herself in the arms of her friend, repeating
without system or order,—
“Well, what? Who saved Billevich and the party and all Volmontovichi?
Before whom did Sakovich flee; who overwhelmed him, and the Swedes with
him? Pan Babinich! Well, now! I knew he would come, for I wrote to him.
But he did not forget! I knew, I knew he would come. It was I who
brought him! Olenka, Olenka! I am happy. Have I not told you that no
one could conquer him? Charnyetski is not his equal. O my God, my God!
Is it true that he will return? Will it be to-day? If he was not going
to return, he would not have come, is it not true? Do you hear, Olenka?
Horses are neighing in the distance!”
But in the distance nothing was neighing. Only toward morning a tramp
was heard, shouting, singing, and Billevich came back. The cavalry on
foaming horses filled the whole village. There was no end to the songs,
to the shouts, to the stories.
The sword-bearer, covered with blood, panting, but joyful, related till
sunrise how he had broken a body of the enemy’s cavalry, how he had
followed them ten miles, and cut them almost to pieces.
Billevich, as well as the troops and all the Lauda people, were
convinced that Babinich might return at any moment. The forenoon came;
then the sun went to the other half of the sky, and was descending; but
Babinich came not.
Anusia toward evening had sunburned spots on her face. “If he cared
only for the Swedes, and not for me!” thought she, in her soul; “still,
he got the letter, for he came to the rescue!”
Poor woman! she knew not that the souls of Yurek Billevich and Braun
were long since in the other world, and that Babinich had received no
letter; for if he had received the letter he would have returned like a
lightning-flash to Volmontovichi,—but not for thee, Anusia.
Another day passed. Billevich did not lose hope yet, and did not leave
the village. Anusia held stubborn silence.
“He has belittled me terribly! But it is good for me, for my giddiness
and my sins!” said she to herself.
On the third day Billevich sent some men on a reconnoissance. They
returned four days later with information that Babinich had taken
Ponyevyej, and spared not a Swede. Then he marched on, it was unknown
whither, for tidings of him had ceased.
“I shall not find him till he comes up again,” said Billevich.
Anusia became a nettle; whoever of the nobles or younger officers
touched her drew back quickly. But the fifth day she said to Olenka,—
“Pan Volodyovski is just as good a soldier, but less rude.”
“And maybe,” answered Olenka, meditatively, “maybe Pan Babinich has
retained his constancy for that other woman, of whom he spoke to you on
the road from Zamost.”
“Well, all one to me!” said Anusia.
But she told not the truth; for it was not all one to her yet, by any
means.