Pan Makovetski, with his wife and Zagloba, saw Pan Michael riding
away, and alarm seized all hearts; therefore they asked one another
with their eyes, “What has happened; where is he going?”
“Great God!” cried Pani Makovetski; “he will go to the Wilderness,
and we shall never see him again in life!”
“Or to the cloister, like that crazy woman,” said Zagloba, in
despair.
“Counsel is necessary here,” said Makovetski.
With that the door opened and Basia burst into the room like a
whirlwind, excited, pale, with fingers in both her eyes; stamping
in the middle of the floor, like a little child, she began to
scream, “Rescue! save! Pan Michael has gone to kill Ketling! Whoso
believes in God, let him fly to stop him! Rescue! rescue!”
“What is the matter, girl?” cried Zagloba, seizing her hands.
“Rescue! Pan Michael will kill Ketling! Through me blood will be
shed, and Krysia will die, all through me!”
“Speak!” cried Zagloba, shaking her. “How do you know? Why is it
through you?”
“Because I told him in anger that they love each other; that Krysia
is going behind the grating for Ketling’s sake. Whoso believes in
God, stop them! Go quickly; go all of you! Let us all go!”
Zagloba, not wont to lose time in such cases, rushed to the yard
and gave command to bring the carriage out at once. Pani Makovetski
wished to ask Basia about the astonishing news, for up to that
moment she had not suspected the love between Krysia and Ketling;
but Basia rushed after Zagloba to look to the harnessing of the
horses. She helped to lead out the beasts and attach them to the
carriage; at last, though bareheaded, she mounted the driver’s seat
before the entrance, where two men were waiting and already dressed
for the road.
“Come down!” said Zagloba to her.
“I will not come down! Take your seats; you must take your seats;
if not, I will go alone!” So saying, she took the reins, and they,
seeing that the stubbornness of the girl might cause a considerable
delay, ceased to ask her to come down.
Meanwhile the servant ran up with a whip: and Pani Makovetski
succeeded in bringing out a shuba and cap to Basia, for the day
was cold. Then they moved on. Basia remained on the driver’s seat.
Zagloba, wishing to speak with her, asked her to sit on the front
seat; but she was unwilling, it may be through fear of being
scolded. Zagloba therefore had to inquire from a distance, and she
answered without turning her head.
“How do you know,” asked he, “that which you told your uncle about
those two?”
“I know all.”
“Did Krysia tell you?”
“Krysia told me nothing.”
“Then maybe the Scot did?”
“No, but I know; and that is why he is going to England. He fooled
everybody but me.”
“A wonderful thing!” said Zagloba.
“This is your work,” said Basia; “you should not have pushed them
against each other.”
“Sit there in quiet, and do not thrust yourself into what does
not belong to you,” answered Zagloba, who was struck to the quick
because this reproach was made in presence of Makovetski. Therefore
he added after a while, “I push anybody! I advise! Look at that! I
like such suppositions.”
“Ah, ha! do you think you did not?” retorted the maiden.
They went forward in silence. Still, Zagloba could not free himself
from the thought that Basia was right, and that he was in great
part the cause of all that had happened. That thought grieved him
not a little; and since the carriage jolted unmercifully, the
old noble fell into the worst humor and did not spare himself
reproaches.
“It would be the proper thing,” thought he, “for Michael and
Ketling to cut off my ears in company. To make a man marry against
his will is the same as to command him to ride with his face to
a horse’s tail. That fly is right! If those men have a duel,
Ketling’s blood will be on me. What kind of business have I begun
in my old age! Tfu, to the Devil! Besides, they almost fooled me,
for I barely guessed why Ketling was going beyond the sea--and that
daw to the cloister; meanwhile the haiduk had long before found
out everything, as it seems.” Here Zagloba meditated a little, and
after a while muttered, “A rogue, not a maiden! Michael borrowed
eyes from a crawfish to put aside such as she for that doll!”
Meanwhile they had arrived at the city; but there their troubles
began really. None of them knew where Ketling was lodging, or where
Pan Michael might go; to look for either was like looking for a
particular poppy-seed in a bushel of poppy-seeds. They went first
to the grand hetman’s. People told them there that Ketling was to
start that morning on a journey beyond the sea. Pan Michael had
come, inquired about the Scot, but whither the little knight had
gone, no one knew. It was supposed that he might have gone to the
squadron stationed in the field behind the city.
Zagloba commanded to return to the camp; but there it was
impossible to find an informant. They went to every inn on Dluga
Street; they went to Praga; all was in vain. Meanwhile night fell;
and since an inn was not to be thought of, they were forced to go
home. They went back in tribulation. Basia cried some; the pious
Makovetski repeated a prayer; Zagloba was really alarmed. He tried,
however, to cheer himself and the company.
“Ha!” said he, “we are distressed, and perhaps Michael is already
at home.”
“Or killed!” said Basia. And she began to wail there in the
carriage, repeating, “Cut out my tongue! It was my fault, my fault!
Oh, I shall go mad!”
“Quiet there, girl! the fault is not yours,” said Zagloba; “and
know this,--if any man is killed, it is not Michael.”
“But I am sorry for the other. We have paid him handsomely for his
hospitality; there is nothing to be said on that point. O God, O
God!”
“That is the truth!” added Pan Makovetski.
“Let that rest, for God’s sake! Ketling is surely nearer to Prussia
than to Warsaw by this time. You heard that he is going away; I
have hope in God too, that should he meet Volodyovski they will
remember old friendship, service rendered together. They rode
stirrup to stirrup; they slept on one saddle; they went together on
scouting expeditions; they dipped their hands in one blood. In the
whole army their friendship was so famous that Ketling, by reason
of his beauty, was called Volodyovski’s wife. It is impossible that
this should not come to their minds when they see each other.”
“Still, it is this way sometimes,” said the discreet Makovetski,
“that just the warmest friendship turns to the fiercest animosity.
So it was in our place when Pan Deyma killed Pan Ubysh, with whom
he had lived twenty years in the greatest agreement. I can describe
to you that unhappy event in detail.”
“If my mind were more at ease, I would listen to you as gladly as
I do to her grace, my benefactress, your grace’s spouse, who has
the habit also of giving details, not excepting genealogies; but
what you say of friendship and animosity has stuck in my head. God
forbid! God forbid that it should come true this time!”
“One was Pan Deyma, the other Pan Ubysh. Both worthy men and
fellow-soldiers--”
“Oi, oi, oi!” said Zagloba, gloomily. “We trust in the mercy of God
that it will not come true this time; but if it does, Ketling will
be the corpse.”
“Misfortune!” said Makovetski, after a moment of silence. “Yes,
yes! Deyma and Ubysh. I remember it as if to-day. And it was a
question also of a woman.”
“Eternally those women! The first daw that comes will brew such
beer for you that whoever drinks will not digest it,” muttered
Zagloba.
“Don’t attack Krysia, sir!” cried Basia, suddenly.
“Oh, if Pan Michael had only fallen in love with you, none of this
would have happened!”
Thus conversing, they reached the house. Their hearts beat on
seeing lights in the windows, for they thought that Pan Michael had
returned, perhaps. But Pani Makovetski alone received them; she was
alarmed and greatly concerned. On learning that all their searching
had resulted in nothing, she covered herself with bitter tears and
began to complain that she should never see her brother again.
Basia seconded her at once in these lamentations. Zagloba too was
unable to master his grief.
“I will go again to-morrow before daylight, but alone,” said he; “I
may be able to learn something.”
“We can search better in company,” put in Makovetski.
“No; let your grace remain with the ladies. If Ketling is alive, I
will let you know.”
“For God’s sake! We are living in the house of that man!” said
Makovetski. “We must find an inn somehow to-morrow, or even pitch
tents in the field, only not to live longer here.”
“Wait for news from me, or we shall lose each other,” said Zagloba.
“If Ketling is killed--”
“Speak more quietly, by Christ’s wounds!” said Pani Makovetski,
“for the servants will hear and tell Krysia; she is barely alive as
it is.”
“I will go to her,” said Basia.
And she sprang upstairs. Those below remained in anxiety and fear.
No one slept in the whole house. The thought that maybe Ketling was
already a corpse filled their hearts with terror. In addition, the
night became close, dark; thunder began to roar and roll through
the heavens; and later bright lightning rent the sky each moment.
About midnight the first storm of the spring began to rage over the
earth. Even the servants woke.
Krysia and Basia went from their chamber to the dining-room. There
the whole company prayed and sat in silence, repeating in chorus,
after each clap of thunder, “And the Word was made flesh!” In
the whistling of the whirlwind was heard at times, as it were, a
certain horse-tramp, and then fear and terror raised the hair on
the heads of Basia, Pani Makovetski, and the two men; for it seemed
to them that at any moment the door might open, and Pan Michael
enter, stained with Ketling’s blood. The usually mild Pan Michael,
for the first time in his life, oppressed people’s hearts like a
stone, so that the very thought of him filled them with dread.
However, the night passed without news of the little knight. At
daylight, when the storm had abated in a measure, Zagloba set out a
second time for the city. That whole day was a day of still greater
alarm. Basia sat till evening in the window in front of the gate,
looking at the road along which Pan Zagloba might return.
Meanwhile the servants, at command of Pan Makovetski, were packing
the trunks slowly for the road. Krysia was occupied in directing
this work, for thus she was able to hold herself at a distance
from the others. For though Pani Makovetski did not mention Pan
Michael in the young lady’s presence even by one word, still that
very silence convinced Krysia that Pan Michael’s love for her,
their former secret engagement, and her recent refusal had been
discovered; and in view of this, it was difficult to suppose that
those people, the nearest to Pan Michael, were not offended and
grieved. Poor Krysia felt that it must be so, that it was so,--that
those hearts, hitherto loving, had withdrawn from her; therefore
she wished to suffer by herself.
Toward evening the trunks were ready, so that it was possible to
move that very day; but Pan Makovetski was waiting yet for news
from Zagloba. Supper was brought; no one cared to eat it; and the
evening began to drag along heavily, insupportably, and as silent
as if all were listening to what the clock was whispering.
“Let us go to the drawing-room,” said Pan Makovetski, at last. “It
is impossible to stay here.”
They went and sat down; but before any one had been able to speak
the first word, the dogs were heard under the window.
“Some one is coming!” cried Basia.
“The dogs are barking as if at people of the house,” said Pani
Makovetski.
“Quiet!” said her husband. “There is a rattling of wheels!”
“Quiet!” repeated Basia. “Yes; it comes nearer every moment. That
is Pan Zagloba.”
Basia and Pan Makovetski sprang up and ran out. Pani Makovetski’s
heart began to throb; but she remained with Krysia, so as not to
show by great haste that Pan Zagloba was bringing news of exceeding
importance. Meanwhile the sound of wheels was heard right under
the window, and then stopped on a sudden. Voices were heard at
the entrance, and after a while Basia rushed into the room like
a hurricane, and with a face as changed as if she had seen an
apparition.
“Basia, who is that? Who is that?” asked Pani Makovetski, with
astonishment.
But before Basia could regain her breath and give answer, the door
opened; through it entered first Pan Makovetski, then Pan Michael,
and last Ketling.