Beyond every expectation, the Volodyovskis found guests at the
fortalice. Pan Bogush had come; he had determined to fix his
residence at Hreptyoff for some months, so as to treat through
Mellehovich with the Tartar captains Aleksandrovich, Moravski,
Tvorovski, Krychinski, and others, either of the Lithuanian or
Ukraine Tartars, who had gone to the service of the Sultan. Pan
Bogush was accompanied also by old Pan Novoveski and his daughter
Eva, and by Pani Boski, a sedate person, with her daughter, Panna
Zosia, who was young yet, and very beautiful. The sight of ladies
in the Wilderness and in wild Hreptyoff delighted, but still more
astonished, the soldiers. The guests, too, were surprised at
sight of the commandant and his wife; for the first, judging from
his extended and terrible fame, they imagined to be some kind of
giant, who by his very look would terrify people, his wife as a
giantess with brows ever frowning and a rude voice. Meanwhile they
saw before them a little soldier, with a kindly and friendly face,
and also a tiny woman, rosy as a doll, who, in her broad trousers
and with her sabre, seemed more like a beautiful boy than a grown
person. None the less did the hosts receive their visitors with
open arms. Basia kissed heartily, before presentation, the three
women; when they told who they were, and whence they had come, she
said,--
“I should rejoice to bend the heavens for you, ladies, and for
you, gentlemen. I am awfully glad to see you! It is well that no
misfortune has met you on the road, for in our desert, you see,
such a thing is not difficult; but this very day we have cut the
ravagers to pieces.”
Seeing then that Pani Boski was looking at her with increasing
astonishment, she struck her sabre, and added with great
boastfulness, “Ah, but I was in the fight! Of course I was. That’s
the way with us! For God’s sake, permit me, ladies, to go out and
put on clothing proper to my sex, and wash my hands from blood a
little; for I am coming from a terrible battle. Oh, if we hadn’t
cut down Azba to-day, perhaps you ladies would not have arrived
without accident at Hreptyoff. I will return in a moment, and
Michael will be at your service meanwhile.”
She vanished through the door; and then the little knight, who had
greeted Pan Novoveski already, pushed up to Pani Boski. “God has
given me such a wife,” said he to her, “that she is not only a
loving companion in the house, but can be a valiant comrade in the
field. Now, at her command I offer my services to your ladyship.”
“May God bless her in everything,” answered Pani Boski, “as He has
blessed her in beauty! I am Antonia Boski; I have not come to exact
services from your grace, but to beg on my knees for aid and rescue
in misfortune. Zosia, kneel down here too before the knight; for if
he cannot help us, no man can.”
Pani Boski fell on her knees then, and the comely Zosia followed
her example; both, shedding ardent tears, began to cry, “Save us,
knight! Have pity on orphans!”
A crowd of officers, made curious, drew near on seeing the kneeling
women, and especially because the sight of the comely Zosia
attracted them; the little knight, greatly confused, raised Pani
Boski, and seated her on a bench. “In God’s name,” asked he, “what
are you doing? I should kneel first before a worthy woman. Tell,
your ladyship, in what I can render assistance, and as God is in
heaven, I will not delay.”
“He will do what he promises; I, on my part, offer myself! Zagloba
_sum!_ it is enough for you to know that!” said the old warrior,
moved by the tears of the women.
Then Pani Boski beckoned to Zosia; she took quickly from her bosom
a letter, which she gave to the little knight. He looked at the
letter and said, “From the hetman!” Then he broke the seal and
began to read:--
VERY DEAR AND BELOVED VOLODYOVSKI!--I send from the road to
you, through Pan Bogush, my sincere love and instructions,
which Pan Bogush will communicate to you personally. I
have barely recovered from fatigues in Yavorov, when
immediately another affair comes up. This affair is very
near my heart, because of the affection which I bear
soldiers, whom if I forgot, the Lord God would forget me.
Pan Boski, a cavalier of great honor and a dear comrade,
was taken by the horde some years since, near Kamenyets.
I have given shelter to his wife and daughter in Yavorov;
but their hearts are weeping,--one for a husband, the
other for a father. I wrote through Pyotrovich to Pan
Zlotnitski, our Resident in the Crimea, to look for Pan
Boski everywhere. They found him, it seems; but the Tartars
hid him afterward, therefore he could not be given up
with other prisoners, and doubtless is rowing in a galley
to this time. The women, despairing and hopeless, have
ceased to importune me; but I, on returning recently, and
seeing their unappeased sorrow, could not refrain from
attempting some rescue. You are near the place, and have
concluded, as I know, brotherhood with many murzas. I send
the ladies to you, therefore, and do you give them aid.
Pyotrovich will go soon to the Crimea. Give him letters to
those murzas with whom you are in brotherhood. I cannot
write to the vizir or the Khan, for they are not friendly
to me; and besides, I fear that if I should write, they
would consider Boski a very eminent person, and increase
the ransom beyond measure. Commend the affair urgently to
Pyotrovich, and command him not to return without Boski.
Stir up all your brothers; though Pagans, they observe
plighted faith always, and must have great respect for
you. Finally, do what you please; go to Rashkoff; promise
three of the most considerable Tartars in exchange, if
they return Boski alive. No one knows better than you all
their methods, for, as I hear, you have ransomed relatives
already. God bless you, and I will love you still more,
for my heart will cease to bleed. I have heard of your
management in Hreptyoff, that it is quiet there. I expected
this. Only keep watch on Azba. Pan Bogush will tell you all
about public affairs. For God’s sake, listen carefully in
the direction of Moldavia, for a great invasion will not
miss us. Committing Pani Boski to your heart and efforts, I
subscribe myself, etc.
Pani Boski wept without ceasing during the reading of the letter;
and Zosia accompanied her, raising her blue eyes to heaven.
Meanwhile, and before Pan Michael had finished, Basia ran in,
dressed in woman’s garments; and seeing tears in the eyes of
the ladies, began to inquire with sympathy what the matter was.
Therefore Pan Michael read the hetman’s letter for her; and when
she had listened to it carefully, she supported at once and with
eagerness the prayers of the hetman and Pani Boski.
“The hetman has a golden heart,” cried Basia, embracing her
husband; “but we shall not show a worse one, Michael. Pani Boski
will stay with us till her husband’s return, and you will bring
him in three months from the Crimea. In three or in two, is it not
true?”
“Or to-morrow, or in an hour!” said Pan Michael, bantering. Here
he turned to Pani Boski, “Decisions, as you see, are quick with my
wife.”
“May God bless her for that!” said Pani Boski. “Zosia, kiss the
hand of the lady commandress.”
But the lady commandress did not think of giving her hands to be
kissed; she embraced Zosia again, for in some way they pleased each
other at once. “Help us, gracious gentlemen,” cried she. “Help us,
and quickly!”
“Quickly, for her head is burning!” muttered Zagloba.
But Basia, shaking her yellow forelock, said, “Not my head, but the
hearts of those gentlemen are burning from sorrow.”
“No one will oppose your honest intention,” said Pan Michael; “but
first we must hear Pani Boski’s story in detail.”
“Zosia, tell everything as it was, for I cannot, from tears,” said
the matron.
Zosia dropped her eyes toward the floor, covering them entirely
with the lids; then she became as red as a cherry, not knowing how
to begin, and was greatly abashed at having to speak in such a
numerous assembly.
But Basia came to her aid. “Zosia, and when did they take Pan Boski
captive?”
“Five years ago, in 1667,” said Zosia, with a thin voice, without
raising the long lashes from her eyes. And she began in one breath
to tell the story: “There were no raids to be heard of at that
time, and papa’s squadron was near Panyovtsi. Papa, with Pan
Bulayovski, was looking after men who were herding cattle in the
meadows, and the Tartars came then on the Wallachian road, and took
papa, with Pan Bulayovski; but Pan Bulayovski returned two years
ago, and papa has not returned.”
Here two tears began to flow down Zosia’s cheeks, so that Zagloba
was moved at sight of them, and said, “Poor girl! Do not fear,
child; papa will return, and will dance yet at your wedding.”
“But did the hetman write to Pan Zlotnitski through Pyotrovich?”
inquired Volodyovski.
“The hetman wrote about papa to the sword-bearer of Poznan,”
recited Zosia; “and the sword-bearer and Pan Pyotrovich found papa
with Aga Murza Bey.”
“In God’s name! I know that Murza Bey. I was in brotherhood with
his brother,” said Volodyovski. “Would he not give up Pan Boski?”
“There was a command of the Khan to give up papa; but Murza Bey
is severe, cruel. He hid papa, and told Pan Pyotrovich that he
had sold him long before into Asia. But other captives told Pan
Pyotrovich that that was not true, and that the murza only said
that purposely, so that he might abuse papa longer; for he is the
cruellest of all the Tartars toward prisoners. Perhaps papa was not
in the Crimea then; for the murza has his own galleys, and needs
men for rowing. But papa was not sold; all the prisoners said that
the murza would rather kill a prisoner than sell him.”
“Holy truth!” said Pan Mushalski. “They know that Murza Bey in the
whole Crimea. He is a very rich Tartar, but wonderfully venomous
against our people, for four brothers of his fell in campaigns
against us.”
“But has he never formed brotherhood among our people?” asked Pan
Michael.
“It is doubtful!” answered the officers from every side.
“Tell me once what that brotherhood is,” said Basia.
“You see,” said Zagloba, “when negotiations are begun at the end
of war, men from both armies visit one another and enter into
friendship. It happens then that an officer inclines to himself
a murza, and a murza an officer; then they vow to each other
life-friendship, which they call brotherhood. The more famous a
man is, as Michael, for instance, or I, or Pan Rushchyts, who
holds command in Rashkoff now, the more is his brotherhood sought.
It is clear that such a man will not conclude brotherhood with
some common fellow, but will seek it only among the most renowned
murzas. The custom is this,--they pour water on their sabres and
swear mutual friendship; do you understand?”
“And how if it comes to war afterward?”
“They can fight in a general war; but if they meet alone, if they
are attacking as skirmishers, they will greet each other, and
depart in friendship. Also if one of them falls into captivity, the
other is bound to alleviate it, and in the worst case to ransom
him; indeed, there have been some who shared their property with
brothers. When it is a question of friends or acquaintances, or of
finding some one, brothers go to brothers; and justice commands us
to acknowledge that no people observe such oaths better than the
Tartars. The word is the main thing with them, and, such a friend
you can trust certainly.”
“But has Michael many such?”
“I have three powerful murzas,” answered Volodyovski; “and one of
them is from Lubni times. Once I begged him of Prince Yeremi. Aga
Bey is his name; and even now, if he had to lay his head down for
me, he would lay it down. The other two are equally reliable.”
“Ah,” said Basia, “I should like to conclude brotherhood with the
Khan himself, and free all the prisoners.”
“He would not be averse to that,” said Zagloba; “but it is not
known what reward he would ask of you.”
“Permit me, gentlemen,” said Pan Michael; “let us consider what
we ought to do. Now listen; we have news from Kamenyets that in
two weeks at the furthest Pyotrovich will be here with a numerous
escort. He will go to the Crimea with ransom for a number of
Armenian merchants from Kamenyets, who at the change of the Khan
were plundered and taken captive. That happened to Seferovich, the
brother of Pretor. All those people are very wealthy; they will
not spare money, and Pyotrovich will go well provided. No danger
threatens him; for, first, winter is near, and it is not the time
for chambuls, and, secondly, with him are going Naviragh, the
delegate of the Patriarch of Echmiadzin, and the two Anardrats from
Kaffa, who have a safe-conduct from the young Khan. I will give
letters to Pyotrovich to the residents of the Commonwealth and
to my brothers. Besides, it is known to you, gentlemen, that Pan
Rushchyts, the commandant at Rashkoff, has relatives in the horde,
who, taken captive in childhood, have become thoroughly Tartar, and
have risen to dignities. All these will move earth and heaven, will
try negotiations; in case of stubbornness on the part of the murza,
they will rouse the Khan himself against him, or perhaps they will
twist the murza’s head somewhere in secret. I hope, therefore,
that if, which God grant, Pan Boski is alive, I shall get him in
a couple of months without fail, as the hetman commands, and my
immediate superior here present” (at this Pan Michael bowed to his
wife).
His immediate superior sprang to embrace the little knight the
second time. Pani and Panna Boski clasped their hands, thanking
God, who had permitted them to meet such kindly people. Both became
notably cheerful, therefore.
“If the old Khan were alive,” said Pan Nyenashinyets, “all would go
more smoothly; for he was greatly devoted to us, and of the young
one they say the opposite. In fact, those Armenian merchants for
whom Pan Pyotrovich is to go, were imprisoned in Bagchesarai itself
during the time of the young Khan, and probably at his command.”
“There will be a change in the young, as there was in the old Khan,
who, before he convinced himself of our honesty, was the most
inveterate enemy of the Polish name,” said Zagloba. “I know this
best, for I was seven years under him in captivity. Let the sight
of me give comfort to your ladyship,” continued he, taking a seat
near Pani Boski. “Seven years is no joke; and still I returned
and crushed so many of those dog brothers that for each day of my
captivity I sent at least two of them to hell; and for Sundays and
holidays who knows if there will not be three or four? Ha!”
“Seven years!” repeated Pani Boski, with a sigh.
“May I die if I add a day! Seven years in the very palace of the
Khan,” confirmed Zagloba, blinking mysteriously. “And you must know
that that young Khan is my--” Here he whispered something in the
ear of Pani Boski, burst into a loud “Ha, ha, ha!” and began to
stroke his knees with his palms; finally he slapped Pani Boski’s
knees, and said, “They were good times, were they not? In youth
every man you met was an enemy, and every day a new prank, ha!”
The sedate matron became greatly confused, and pushed back somewhat
from the jovial knight; the younger women dropped their eyes,
divining easily that the pranks of which Pan Zagloba was talking
must be something opposed to their native modesty, especially since
the soldiers burst into loud laughter.
“It will be needful to send to Pan Rushchyts at once,” said Basia,
“so that Pan Pyotrovich may find the letters ready in Rashkoff.”
“Hasten with the whole affair,” added Pan Bogush, “while it is
winter: for, first, no chambuls come out, and roads are safe;
secondly, in the spring God knows what may happen.”
“Has the hetman news from Tsargrad?” inquired Volodyovski.
“He has; and of this we must talk apart. It is necessary to finish
quickly with those captains. When will Mellehovich come back?--for
much depends on him.”
“He has only to destroy the rest of the ravagers, and afterward
bury the dead. He ought to return to-day or to-morrow morning. I
commanded him to bury only our men, not Azba’s; for winter is at
hand, and there is no danger of infection. Besides, the wolves will
clear them away.”
“The hetman asks,” said Pan Bogush, “that Mellehovich should have
no hindrance in his work; as often as he wishes to go to Rashkoff,
let him go. The hetman asks, too, to trust him in everything, for
he is certain of his devotion. He is a great soldier, and may do us
much good.”
“Let him go to Rashkoff and whithersoever he pleases,” said the
little knight. “Since we have destroyed Azba, I have no urgent need
of him. No large band will appear now till the first grass.”
“Is Azba cut to pieces then?” inquired Novoveski.
“So cut up that I do not know if twenty-five men escaped; and even
those will be caught one by one, if Mellehovich has not caught them
already.”
“I am terribly glad of this,” said Novoveski, “for now it will be
possible to go to Rashkoff in safety.” Here he turned to Basia:
“We can take to Pan Rushchyts the letters which her grace, our
benefactress, has mentioned.”
“Thank you,” answered Basia; “there are occasions here continually,
for men are sent expressly.”
“All the commands must maintain communication,” said Pan Michael.
“But are you going to Rashkoff, indeed, with this young beauty?”
“Oh, this is an ordinary puss, not a beauty, gracious benefactor,”
said Novoveski; “and I am going to Rashkoff, for my son, the
rascal, is serving there under the banner of Pan Rushchyts. It is
nearly ten years since he ran away from home, and knocks at my
fatherly clemency only with letters.”
“I guessed at once that you were Pan Adam’s father, and I was about
to inquire; but we were so taken up with sorrow for Pani Boski. I
guessed it at once, for there is a resemblance in features. Well,
then, he is your son?”
“So his late mother declared; and as she was a virtuous woman, I
have no reason for doubt.”
“I am doubly glad to have such a guest as you. For God’s sake, but
do not call your son a rascal; for he is a famous soldier, and a
worthy cavalier, who brings the highest honor to your grace. Do
you not know that, after Pan Rushchyts, he is the best partisan
in the squadron? Do you not know that he is an eye in the head of
the hetman? Independent commands are intrusted to him, and he has
fulfilled every function with incomparable credit.”
Pan Novoveski flushed from delight. “Gracious Colonel,” said he,
“more than once a father blames his child only to let some one deny
what he says; and I think that ’tis impossible to please a parent’s
heart more than by such a denial. Reports have reached me already
of Adam’s good service; but I am really comforted now for the first
time, when I hear these reports confirmed by such renowned lips.
They say that he is not only a manful soldier, but steady,--which
is even a wonder to me, for he was always a whirlwind. The rogue
had a love for war from youth upward; and the best proof of this is
that he ran away from home as a boy. If I could have caught him at
that time, I would not have spared him. But now I must spare him;
if not, he would hide for ten other years, and it is dreary for me,
an old man, without him.”
“And has he not been home during so many years?”
“He has not; I forbade him. But I have had enough of it, and now
I go to him, since he, being in service, cannot come to me. I
intended to ask of you and my benefactress a refuge for this maiden
while I went to Rashkoff alone; but since you say that it is safe
everywhere, I will take her. She is curious, the magpie, to see the
world. Let her look at it.”
“And let people look at her,” put in Zagloba. “Ah, they would
have nothing to see,” said the young lady, out of whose dark eyes
and mouth, fixed as if for a kiss, something quite different was
speaking.
“An ordinary puss,--nothing more than a puss!” said Pan Novoveski.
“But if she sees a handsome officer, something may happen;
therefore I chose to bring her with me rather than leave her,
especially as it is dangerous for a girl at home alone. But if I go
without her to Rashkoff, then let her grace give command to tie her
with a cord, or she will play pranks.”
“I was no better myself,” said Basia.
“They gave her a distaff to spin,” said Zagloba; “but she danced
with it, since she had no one better to dance with. But you are
a jovial man. Basia, I should like to have an encounter with Pan
Novoveski, for I also am fond of amusement at times.”
Meanwhile, before supper was served, the door opened, and
Mellehovich entered. Pan Novoveski did not notice him at once, for
he was talking with Zagloba; but Eva saw him, and a flame struck
her face; then she grew pale suddenly.
“Pan Commandant,” said Mellehovich to Pan Michael, “according to
order, those men were caught.”
“Well, where are they?”
“According to order, I had them hanged.”
“Well done! And have your men returned?”
“A part remained to bury the bodies; the rest are with me.”
At this moment Pan Novoveski raised his head, and great
astonishment was reflected on his face. “In God’s name, what do I
see?” cried he. Then he rose, went straight to Mellehovich, and
said, “Azya! And what art thou doing here, ruffian?”
He raised his hand to seize the Tartar by the collar; but in
Mellehovich there was such an outburst in one moment as there is
when a man throws a handful of powder into fire; he grew pale as a
corpse, and seizing with iron grasp the hand of Novoveski, he said,
“I do not know you! Who are you?” and pushed him so violently that
Novoveski staggered to the middle of the room. For some time he
could not utter a word from rage; but regaining breath, began to
cry,--
“Gracious Commandant, this is my man, and besides that, a runaway.
He was in my house from childhood. The ruffian denies! He is my
man! Eva, who is he? Tell.”
“Azya,” said Eva, trembling in all her body.
Mellehovich did not even look at her. With eyes fixed on Novoveski,
and with quivering nostril, he looked at the old noble with
unspeakable hatred, pressing with his hand the handle of his knife.
At the same time his mustaches began to quiver from the movement
of his nostrils, and from under those mustaches white teeth were
gleaming, like those of an angry wild beast.
The officers stood in a circle; Basia sprang in between Mellehovich
and Novoveski. “What does this mean?” asked she, frowning.
“Pan Commandant,” said Novoveski, “this is my man, Azya by name,
and a runaway. Serving in youthful years in the Crimea, I found
him half alive on the steppe, and I took him. He is a Tartar. He
remained twelve years in my house, and was taught together with my
son. When my son ran away, this one helped me in management until
he wished to make love to Eva; seeing this, I had him flogged: he
ran away after that. What is his name here?”
“Mellehovich.”
“He has assumed that name. He is called Azya,--nothing more. He
says that he does not know me; but I know him, and so does Eva.”
“Your grace’s son has seen him many times,” said Basia. “Why did
not he know him?”
“My son might not know him; for when he ran away from home, both
were fifteen years old, and this one remained six years with me
afterward, during which time he changed considerably, grew, and got
mustaches. But Eva knew him at once. Gracious hosts, you will lend
belief more quickly to a citizen than to this accident from the
Crimea!”
“Pan Mellehovich is an officer of the hetman,” said Basia; “we have
nothing to do with him.”
“Permit me; I will ask him. Let the other side be heard,” said the
little knight.
But Pan Novoveski was furious. “_Pan_ Mellehovich! What sort of
a _Pan_ is he?--My serving-lad, who has hidden himself under a
strange name. To-morrow I’ll make my dog keeper of that _Pan_;
the day after to-morrow I’ll give command to beat that _Pan_ with
clubs. And the hetman himself cannot hinder me; for I am a noble,
and I know my rights.”
To this Pan Michael answered more sharply, and his mustaches
quivered. “I am not only a noble, but a colonel, and I know my
rights too. You can demand your man, by law, and have recourse to
the jurisdiction of the hetman; but I command here, and no one else
does.”
Pan Novoveski moderated at once, remembering that he was talking,
not only to a commandant, but to his own son’s superior, and
besides the most noted knight in the Commonwealth. “Pan Colonel,”
said he, in a milder tone, “I will not take him against the will of
your grace; but I bring forward my rights, and I beg you to believe
me.”
“Mellehovich, what do you say to this?” asked Volodyovski.
The Tartar fixed his eyes on the floor, and was silent.
“That your name is Azya we all know,” added Pan Michael.
“There are other proofs to seek,” said Novoveski. “If he is my man,
he has fish tattooed in blue on his breast.”
Hearing this, Pan Nyenashinyets opened his eyes widely and his
mouth; then he seized himself by the head, and cried, “Azya, Tugai
Beyovich!”
All eyes were turned on him; he trembled throughout his whole body,
as if all his wounds were reopened, and he repeated, “That is my
captive! That is Tugai Bey’s son. As God lives, it is he.”
But the young Tartar raised his head proudly, cast his wild-cat
glance on the assembly, and pulling open suddenly the clothes on
his bosom, said, “Here are the fish tattooed in blue. I am the son
of Tugai Bey!”