Three weeks later, at midday, Pan Adam was in Hreptyoff. He had
made the journey from Rashkoff so slowly because he had crossed to
the other side of the Dnieper many times, while attacking chambuls
and the perkulab’s people along the river, at various stanitsas.
These informed the Sultan’s troops afterward that they had seen
Polish detachments everywhere, and had heard of great armies, which
surely would not wait for the coming of the Turks at Kamenyets, but
would intercept their march, and meet them in a general battle.
The Sultan, who had been assured of the helplessness of the
Commonwealth, was greatly astonished; and sending Tartars,
Wallachians, and the hordes of the Danube in advance, he pushed
forward slowly, for in spite of his measureless strength, he had
great fear of a battle with the armies of the Commonwealth.
Pan Adam did not find Volodyovski in Hreptyoff, for the little
knight had followed Motovidlo to assist the starosta of Podlyasye
against the Crimean horde and Doroshenko. There he gained great
victories, adding new glory to his former renown. He defeated the
stern Korpan, and left his body as food to beasts on the open
plain; he crushed the terrible Drozd, and the manful Malyshka, and
the two brothers Siny, celebrated Cossack raiders, also a number of
inferior bands and chambuls.
But when Pan Adam arrived, Pani Volodyovski was just preparing to
go with the rest of the people and the tabor to Kamenyets, for
it was necessary to leave Hreptyoff, in view of the invasion.
Basia was grieved to leave that wooden fortalice, in which she
had experienced many evils, it is true, but in which the happiest
part of her life had been passed, with her husband, among loving
hearts, famous soldiers. She was going now, at her own request, to
Kamenyets, to unknown fortunes and dangers involved in the siege.
But since she had a brave heart, she did not yield to sorrow, but
watched the preparations carefully, guarding the soldiers and the
tabor. In this she was aided by Zagloba, who in every necessity
surpassed all in understanding, together with Pan Mushalski, the
incomparable bowman, who was besides a soldier of valiant hand and
uncommon experience.
All were delighted at the arrival of Pan Adam, though they knew at
once, from the face of the knight, that he had not freed Eva or
the sweet Zosia from Pagan captivity. Basia bewailed the fate of
the two ladies with bitter tears, for they were to be looked on as
lost. Sold, it was unknown to whom, they might be taken from the
markets of Stambul to Asia Minor, to islands under Turkish rule, or
to Egypt, and be confined there in harems; hence it was not only
impossible to ransom them, but even to learn where they were.
Basia wept; the wise Pan Zagloba wept; so did Pan Mushalski, the
incomparable bowman. Pan Adam alone had dry eyes, for tears had
failed him already. But when he told how he had gone down to Tykich
near the Danube, had cut to pieces the Lithuanian Tartars almost at
the side of the horde and the Sultan, and had seized Azya, the evil
enemy, the two old men rattled their sabres, and said,--
“Give him hither! Here, in Hreptyoff, should he die.”
“Not in Hreptyoff,” said Pan Adam. “Rashkoff is the place of his
punishment, that is the place where he should die; and the sergeant
here found a torment for him which was not easy.”
He described then the death which Azya had died, and they listened
with terror, but without pity.
“That the Lord God pursues crime is known,” said Zagloba at last;
“but it is a wonder that the Devil protects his servants so poorly.”
Basia sighed piously, raised her eyes, and after a short meditation
answered,--
“He does, for he lacks strength to stand against the might of God.”
“Oh, you have said it,” remarked Pan Mushalski, “for if, which God
forfend, the Devil were mightier than the Lord, all justice, and
with it the Commonwealth, would vanish.”
“I am not afraid of the Turks,--first, because they are such sons,
and secondly, they are children of Belial,” answered Zagloba.
All were silent for a while. Pan Adam sat on the bench with his
palms on his knees, looking at the floor with glassy eyes.
“It must have been some consolation,” said Pan Mushalski, turning
to him; “it is a great solace to accomplish a proper vengeance.”
“Tell us, has it consoled you really? Do you feel better now?”
asked Basia, with a voice full of pity.
The giant was silent for a time, as if struggling with his own
thoughts; at last he said, as if in great wonderment, and so
quietly that he was almost whispering,--
“Imagine to yourself, as God is dear to me, I thought that I should
feel better if I were to destroy him. I saw him on the stake, I
saw him when his eye was bored out, I said to myself that I felt
better; but it is not true, not true.”
Here Pan Adam embraced his hapless head with his hands, and said
through his set teeth,--
“It was better for him on the stake, better with the auger in his
eye, better with fire on his hands, than for me with that which is
sitting within me, which is thinking and remembering within me.
Death is my one consolation; death, death, that is the truth.”
Hearing this, Basia’s valiant and soldier heart rose quickly, and
putting her hands on the head of the unfortunate man, she said,--
“God grant it to you at Kamenyets; for you say truly, it is the one
consolation.”
He closed his eyes then, and began to repeat,--
“Oh, that is true, that is true; God repay you!”
That same afternoon they all started for Kamenyets.
Basia, after she had passed the gate, looked around long and long
at that fortalice, gleaming in the light of the evening; at last,
signing herself with the holy cross, she said,--
“God grant that it come to us to return to thee, dear Hreptyoff,
with Michael! God grant that nothing worse be waiting for us!”
And two tears rolled down her rosy face. A peculiar strange grief
pressed all hearts; and they moved forward in silence. Meanwhile
darkness came.
They went slowly toward Kamenyets, for the tabor advanced slowly.
In it went wagons, herds of horses, bullocks, buffaloes, camels;
army servants watched over the herds. Some of the servants and
soldiers had married in Hreptyoff, hence there was not a lack of
women in the tabor. There were as many troops as under Pan Adam,
and besides, two hundred Hungarian infantry, which body the little
knight had equipped at his own cost, and had trained. Basia was
their patron; and Kalushevski, a good officer, led them. There were
no real Hungarians in that infantry, which was called Hungarian
only because it had a Hungarian uniform. The non-commissioned
officers were “veterans,” soldiers of the dragoons; but the ranks
were composed of robber bands which had been sentenced to the
rope. Life was granted the men on condition that they would serve
in the infantry, and with loyalty and bravery efface their past
sins. There were not wanting among them also volunteers who had
left their ravines, meadows, and similar robber haunts, preferring
to join the service of the “Little Falcon” of Hreptyoff rather
than feel his sword hanging over their heads. These men were not
over-tractable, and not sufficiently trained yet; but they were
brave, accustomed to hardships, dangers, and bloodshed. Basia had
an uncommon love for this infantry, as for Michael’s child; and in
the wild hearts of those warriors was soon born an attachment for
the wonderful and kind lady. Now they marched around, her carriage
with muskets on their shoulders and sabres at their sides, proud
to guard the lady, ready to defend her madly in case any chambul
should bar their way.
But the road was still free, for Pan Michael had more foresight
than others, and, besides, he had too much love for his wife
to expose her to danger through delay. The journey was made,
therefore, quietly. Leaving Hreptyoff in the afternoon, they
journeyed till evening, then all night; the next day in the
afternoon they saw the high cliffs of Kamenyets.
At sight of them, and at sight of the bastions of the fort adorning
the summits of the cliffs, great consolation entered their hearts
at once; for it seemed to them impossible that any hand but God’s
own could break that eagle’s nest on the summit of projecting
cliffs surrounded by the loop of the river. It was a summer day
and wonderful. The towers of the churches looking out from behind
the cliffs were gleaming like gigantic lights; peace, calm, and
gladness were on that serene region.
“Basia,” said Zagloba, “more than once the Pagans have gnawed those
walls, and they have always broken their teeth on them. Ha! how
many times have I myself seen how they fled, holding themselves by
the snout, for they were in pain. God grant it to be the same this
time!”
“Surely it will,” said the radiant Basia.
“One of their sultans, Osman, was here. It was--I remember the case
as if to-day--in the year 1621. He came, the pig’s blood, just over
there from that side of the Smotrych, from Hotin, stared, opened
his mouth, looked and looked; at last he asked, ‘But who fortified
that place so?’ ‘The Lord God,’ answered the vizir. ‘Then let the
Lord God take it, for I am not a fool!’ And he turned back on the
spot.”
“Indeed, they turned back quickly!” put in Pan Mushalski.
“They turned back quickly,” said Zagloba; “for we touched them up
in the flanks with spears, and afterward the knighthood bore me on
their hands to Pan Lubomirski.”
“Then were you at Hotin?” asked the incomparable bowman. “Belief
fails me, when I think where have you not been, and what have you
not done.”
Zagloba was offended somewhat and said: “Not only was I there, but
I received a wound, which I can show to your eyes, if you are so
curious; I can show it directly, but at one side, for it does not
become me to boast of it in the presence of Pani Volodyovski.”
The famous bowman knew at once that Zagloba was making sport of
him; and as he did not feel himself competent to overcome the old
noble by wit, he inquired no further, and turned the conversation.
“What you say is true,” said he: “when a man is far away, and hears
people saying, ‘Kamenyets is not supplied, Kamenyets will fall,’
terror seizes him; but when he sees Kamenyets, consolation comes to
him.”
“And besides, Michael will be in Kamenyets,” cried Basia.
“And maybe Pan Sobieski will send succor.”
“Praise be to God! it is not so ill with us, not so ill. It has
been worse, and we did not yield.”
“Though it were worse, the point is in this, not to lose courage.
They have not devoured us, and they will not while our courage
holds out,” said Zagloba.
Under the influence of these cheering thoughts they grew silent.
But Pan Adam rode up suddenly to Basia; his countenance, usually
threatening and gloomy, was now smiling and calm. He had fixed his
gazing eyes with devotion on Kamenyets bathed in sunbeams, and
smiled without ceasing.
The two knights and Basia looked at him with wonder, for they could
not understand how the sight of that fortress had taken every
weight from his soul with such suddenness; but he said,--
“Praise be to the name of the Lord! there was a world of suffering,
but now gladness is near me!” Here he turned to Basia. “They are
both with the mayor, Tomashevich; and it is well that they have
hidden there, for in such a fortress that robber can do nothing to
them.”
“Of whom are you speaking?” asked Basia, in terror.
“Of Zosia and Eva.”
“God give you aid!” cried Zagloba; “do not give way to the Devil.”
But Pan Adam continued, “And what they say of my father, that Azya
killed him, is not true either.”
“His mind is disturbed,” whispered Pan Mushalski.
“Permit me,” said Pan Adam again; “I will hurry on in advance. I am
so long without seeing them that I yearn for them.”
When he had said this he began to nod his gigantic head toward both
sides; then he pressed his horse with his heels, and moved on. Pan
Mushalski, beckoning to a number of dragoons, followed him, so as
to keep an eye on the madman. Basia hid her rosy face in her hands,
and soon hot tears began to flow through her fingers.
“He was as good as gold, but such misfortunes surpass human power.
Besides, the soul is not revived by mere vengeance.”
Kamenyets was seething with preparations for defence. On the
walls, in the old castle and at the gates, especially at the
Roman gates, “nations” inhabiting the town were laboring under
their mayors, among whom the Pole Tomashevich took the first
place, and that because of his great daring and his rare skill
in handling cannon. At the same time Poles, Russians, Armenians,
Jews, and Gypsies, working with spades and pickaxes, vied with
one another. Officers of various regiments were overseers of the
work; sergeants and soldiers assisted the citizens; even nobles
went to work, forgetting that God had created their hands for the
sabre alone, giving all other work to people of insignificant
estate. Pan Humyetski, the banneret of Podolia, gave an example
himself which roused tears, for he brought stones with his own
hands in a wheelbarrow. The work was seething in the town and in
the castle. Among the crowds the Dominicans, the Jesuits, the
brethren of Saint Francis, and the Carmelites circled about among
the crowds, blessing the efforts of people. Women brought food and
drink to those laboring; beautiful Armenian women, the wives and
daughters of rich merchants, and Jewesses from Karvaseri, Jvanyets,
Zinkovtsi, Dunaigrod, attracted the eyes of the soldiers.
But the entrance of Basia arrested the attention of the throngs
more than all. There were surely many women of more distinction in
Kamenyets, but none whose husband was covered with more military
glory. They had heard also in Kamenyets of Pani Volodyovski
herself, as of a valiant lady who feared not to dwell on a
watchtower in the Wilderness among wild people, who went on
expeditions with her husband, and who, when carried away by a
Tartar, had been able to overcome him and escape safely from his
robber hands. Her fame, therefore, was immense. But those who did
not know her, and had not seen her hitherto, imagined that she must
be some giantess, breaking horseshoes and crushing armor. What was
their astonishment when they saw a small, rosy, half childlike face!
“Is that Pani Volodyovski herself, or only her little daughter?”
asked people in the crowds. “Herself,” answered those who knew her.
Then admiration seized citizens, women, priests, the army. They
looked with no less wonder on the invincible garrison of Hreptyoff,
on the dragoons, among whom Pan Adam rode calmly, smiling with
wandering eyes, and on the terrible faces of the bandits turned
into Hungarian infantry. But there marched with Basia a few hundred
men who were worthy of praise, soldiers by trade; courage came
therefore to the townspeople. “That is no common power; they will
look boldly into the eyes of the Turks,” cried the people in the
crowd. Some of the citizens, and even of the soldiers, especially
in the regiment of Bishop Trebitski, which regiment had come
recently to Kamenyets, thought that Pan Michael himself was in the
retinue, therefore they raised cries,--
“Long live Pan Volodyovski!”
“Long live our defender! The most famous cavalier!”
“Vivat Volodyovski! vivat!”
Basia listened, and her heart rose; for nothing can be dearer to a
woman than the fame of her husband, especially when it is sounding
in the mouths of people in a great city. “There are so many knights
here,” thought Basia, “and still they do not shout to any but my
Michael.” And she wanted to shout herself in the chorus, “Vivat
Volodyovski!” but Zagloba told her that she should bear herself
like a person of distinction, and bow on both sides, as queens do
when they are entering a capital. And he, too, saluted, now with
his cap, now with his hand; and when acquaintances began to cry
“vivat” in his honor, he answered to the crowds,--
“Gracious gentlemen, he who endured Zbaraj will hold out in
Kamenyets!”
According to Pan Michael’s instructions, the retinue went to the
newly built cloister of the Dominican nuns. The little knight had
his own house in Kamenyets; but since the cloister was in a retired
place which cannon-balls could hardly reach, he preferred to
place his dear Basia there, all the more since he expected a good
reception as a benefactor of the cloister. In fact, the abbess,
Mother Victoria, the daughter of Stefan Pototski, voevoda of
Bratslav, received Basia with open arms. From the embraces of the
abbess she went at once to others, and greatly beloved ones,--to
those of her aunt, Pani Makovetski, whom she had not seen for some
years. Both women wept; and Pan Makovetski, whose favorite Basia
had always been, wept too. Barely had they dried these tears of
tenderness when in rushed Krysia Ketling, and new greetings began;
then Basia was surrounded by the nuns and noble women, known and
unknown,--Pani Bogush, Pani Stanislavski, Pani Kalinovski, Pani
Hotsimirski, Pani Humyetski, the wife of the banneret of Podolia,
a great cavalier. Some, like Pani Bogush, inquired about their
husbands; others asked what Basia thought of the Turkish invasion,
and whether, in her opinion, Kamenyets would hold out. Basia saw
with great delight that they looked on her as having some military
authority, and expected consolation from her lips. Therefore she
was not niggardly in giving.
“No one says,” replied she, “that we cannot hold out against the
Turks. Michael will be here to-day or to-morrow, at furthest in a
couple of days; and when he occupies himself with the defences, you
ladies may sleep quietly. Besides, the fortress is tremendously
strong; in this matter, thank God, I have some knowledge.”
The confidence of Basia poured consolation into the hearts of
the women; they were reassured specially by the promise of Pan
Michael’s arrival. Indeed, his name was so respected that, though
it was evening, officers of the place began to come at once with
greetings to Basia. After the first salutations, each inquired when
the little knight would come, and if really he intended to shut
himself up in Kamenyets. Basia received only Major Kvasibrotski,
who led the infantry of the Bishop of Cracow; the secretary,
Revuski, who succeeded Pan Lanchynski, or rather, occupied his
place, was at the head of the regiment, and Ketling. The doors were
not open to others that day, for the lady was road-weary, and,
besides, she had to occupy herself with Pan Adam. That unfortunate
young man had fallen from his horse before the very cloister, and
was carried to a cell in unconsciousness. They sent at once for
the doctor, the same who had cured Basia at Hreptyoff. The doctor
declared that there was a serious disease of the brain, and gave
little hope of Pan Adam’s recovery.
Basia, Pan Mushalski, and Zagloba talked till late in the evening
about that event, and pondered over the unhappy lot of the knight.
“The doctor told me,” said Zagloba, “that if he recovers and is
bled copiously, his mind will not be disturbed, and he will bear
misfortune with a lighter heart.”
“There is no consolation for him now,” said Basia.
“Often it would be better for a man not to have memory,” remarked
Pan Mushalski; “but even animals are not free from it.”
Here the old man called the famous bowman to account for that
remark.
“If you had no memory you couldn’t go to confession,” said he;
“and you would be the same as a Lutheran, deserving hell-fire.
Father Kaminski has warned you already against blasphemy; but say
the Lord’s prayer to a wolf, and the wolf would rather be eating a
sheep.”
“What sort of wolf am I?” asked the famous bowman, “There was Azya;
he was a wolf.”
“Didn’t I say that?” asked Zagloba. “Who was the first to say,
that’s a wolf?”
“Pan Adam told me,” said Basia, “that day and night he hears Eva
and Zosia calling to him ‘save;’ and how can he save? It had to
end in sickness, for no man can endure such pain. He could survive
their death; he cannot survive their shame.”
“He is lying now like a block of wood; he knows nothing of God’s
world,” said Pan Mushalski; “and it is a pity, for in battle he was
splendid.”
Further conversation was interrupted by a servant, who announced
that there was a great noise in the town, for the people were
assembling to look at the starosta of Podolia, who was just making
his entrance with a considerable escort and some tens of infantry.
“The command belongs to him,” said Zagloba. “It is valiant on the
part of Pan Pototski to prefer this to another place, but as of old
I would that he were not here. He is opposed to the hetman; he did
not believe in the war; and now who knows whether it will not come
to him to lay down his head.”
“Perhaps other Pototskis will march in after him,” said Pan
Mushalski.
“It is evident that the Turks are not distant,” answered Zagloba.
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, God grant the
starosta of Podolia to be a second Yeremi, and Kamenyets a second
Zbaraj!”
“It must be; if not, we shall die first,” said a voice at the
threshold.
Basia sprang up at the sound of that voice, and crying “Michael!”
threw herself into the little knight’s arms.
Pan Michael brought from the field much important news, which he
related to his wife in the quiet cell before he communicated it to
the military council. He had destroyed utterly a number of smaller
chambuls, and had whirled around the Crimean camp and that of
Doroshenko with great glory to himself. He had brought also some
tens of prisoners, from whom they might select informants as to the
power of the Khan and Doroshenko.
But other men had less success. The starosta of Podlyasye, at
the head of considerable forces, was destroyed in a murderous
battle; Motovidlo was beaten by Krychinski, who pursued him to
the Wallachian trail, with the aid of the Belgrod horde and those
Tartars who survived Pan Adam’s victory at Tykich. Before coming to
Kamenyets, Pan Michael turned aside to Hreptyoff, wishing, as he
said, to look again on that scene of his happiness.
“I was there,” said he, “right after your departure; the place had
not grown cold yet, and I might have come up with you easily, but
I crossed over to the Moldavian bank at Ushytsa, to put my ear
toward the steppe. Some chambuls have crossed already, but are
afraid that if they come out at Pokuta, they will strike on people
unexpectedly. Others are moving in front of the Turkish army,
and will be here soon. There will be a siege, my dove,--there is
no help for it; but we will not surrender, for here every one is
defending not only the country, but his own private property.”
When he had said this, he took his wife by the shoulders, and
kissed her on the cheeks; that day they talked no more with each
other.
Next morning Pan Michael repeated his news at Bishop
Lantskoronski’s before the council of war, which, besides the
bishop, was formed of Pan Mikolai Pototski, starosta of Podolia,
Pan Lantskoronski, chamberlain of Podolia, Pan Revuski, secretary
of Podolia, Pan Humyetski, Ketling, Makovetski, Major Kvasibrotski,
and a number of other officers. To begin with, Volodyovski was not
pleased with the declaration of Pan Pototski, that he would not
take the command on himself, but confide it to a council.
“In sudden emergencies, there must be one head and one will,” said
the little knight. “At Zbaraj there were three men to whom command
belonged by office, still they gave it to Prince Yeremi, judging
rightly that in danger it is better to obey one.”
These words were without effect. In vain did the learned Ketling
cite, as an example, the Romans, who, being the greatest warriors
in the world, invented dictatorship. Bishop Lantskoronski, who did
not like Ketling,--for he had fixed in his mind, it is unknown
why, that, being a Scot by origin, Ketling must be a heretic at
the bottom of his soul,--retorted that the Poles did not need to
learn history from immigrants; they had their own mind too, and
did not need to imitate the Romans, to whom they were not inferior
in bravery and eloquence, or if they were, it was very little. “As
there is more blaze,” said the bishop, “from an armful of wood than
from one stick, so there is more watchfulness in many heads than
in one.” Herewith he praised the “modesty” of Pan Pototski, though
others understood it to be rather fear of responsibility, and from
himself he advised negotiations.
When this word was uttered, the soldiers sprang from their seats
as if scalded. Pan Michael, Ketling, Makovetski, Kvasibrotski, set
their teeth and touched their sabres. “But I believe,” said voices,
“that we did not come here for negotiations!” “His robe protects
the negotiator!” cried Kvasibrotski; “the church is your place, not
this council!” and there was an uproar.
Thereupon the bishop rose and said in a loud voice: “I should be
the first to give my life for the church and my flock; but if I
have mentioned negotiations and wish to temporize, God be my judge,
it is not because I wish to surrender the fortress, but to win time
for the hetman to collect reinforcements. The name of Pan Sobieski
is terrible to the Pagans; and though he has not forces sufficient,
still let the report go abroad that he is advancing, and the
Mussulman will leave Kamenyets soon enough.” And since he spoke so
powerfully, all were silent; some were even rejoiced, seeing that
the bishop had not surrender in his mind.
Pan Michael spoke next: “The enemy, before he besieges Kamenyets,
must crush Jvanyets, for he cannot leave a defensive castle behind
his shoulders. Therefore, with permission of the starosta, I will
undertake to enclose myself in Jvanyets, and hold it during the
time which the bishop wishes to gain through negotiations. I will
take trusty men with me; and Jvanyets will last while my life
lasts.”
Whereupon all cried out: “Impossible! You are needed here! Without
you the citizens will lose courage, and the soldiers will not
fight with such willingness. In no way is it possible! Who has
more experience? Who passed through Zbaraj? And when it comes to
sorties, who will lead the men? You would be destroyed in Jvanyets,
and we should be destroyed here without you.”
“The command has disposal of me,” answered Pan Michael.
“Send to Jvanyets some daring young man, who would be my
assistant,” said the chamberlain of Podolia.
“Let Novoveski go!” said a number of voices.
“Novoveski cannot go, for his head is burning,” answered Pan
Michael; “he is lying on his bed, and knows nothing of God’s world.”
“Meanwhile, let us decide,” said the bishop, “where each is to have
his place, and what gate he is to defend.”
All eyes were turned to the starosta, who said: “Before I issue the
commands, I am glad to hear the opinions of experienced soldiers;
since Pan Volodyovski here is superior in military experience, I
call on him first.”
Pan Michael advised, first of all, to put good garrisons in the
castles before the town, for he thought that the main force of
the enemy would be turned specially on them. Others followed his
opinion. There were sixteen hundred men of infantry, and these
were disposed in such manner that Pan Myslishevski occupied the
right side of the castle; the left, Pan Humyetski, famous for his
exploits at Hotin. Pan Michael took the most dangerous position on
the side toward Hotin; lower down was placed Serdyuk’s division.
Major Kvasibrotski covered the side toward Zinkovtsi; the south
was held by Pan Vansovich; and the side next the court by Captain
Bukar, with Pan Krasinski’s men. These were not volunteers
indifferent in quality, but soldiers by profession, excellent, and
in battle so firm that artillery fire was no more to them than the
sun’s heat to other men. Serving in the armies of the Commonwealth,
which were always small in number, they were accustomed from
youthful years to resist an enemy of ten times their force, and
considered this as something natural. The general management of
the artillery of the castle was under Ketling, who surpassed all
in the art of aiming cannon. Chief command in the castle was to be
with the little knight, with whom the starosta left the freedom of
making sorties as often as there should be need and possibility.
These men, knowing now where each would stand, were rejoiced
heartily, and raised a considerable shout, shaking their sabres at
the same time. Thus they showed their willingness. Hearing this,
the starosta said to his own soul,--
“I did not believe that we could defend ourselves, and I came here
without faith, listening only to my conscience; who knows, however,
but we may repulse the enemy with such soldiers? The glory will
fall on me, and they will herald me as a second Yeremi; in such an
event it may be that a fortunate star has brought me to this place.”
And as before he had doubted of the defence, so now he doubted of
the capture of Kamenyets; hence his courage increased, and he began
to advise more readily the strengthening of the town.
It was decided to station Pan Makovetski at the Russian gate, in
the town itself, with a handful of nobles, Polish townspeople,
more enduring in battle than others, and with them a few tens of
Armenians and Jews. The Lutsk gate was confided to Pan Grodetski,
with whom Pan Juk and Pan Matchynski took command of artillery. The
guard of the square before the town-house was commanded by Lukash
Dzevanovski; Pan Hotsimirski had command of the noisy Gypsies at
the Russian gate. From the bridge to the house of Pan Sinitski, the
guards were commanded by Pan Kazimir Humyetski. And farther on were
to have their quarters Pan Stanishevski, and at the Polish gate Pan
Martsin Bogush, and at the Spij bastion Pan Skarzinski, and Pan
Yatskovski there at the side of the Byaloblotski embrasures; Pan
Dubravski and Pan Pyetrashevski occupied the butcher’s bastion.
The grand intrenchment of the town was given to Tomashevich, the
Polish mayor, the smaller to Pan Yatskovski; there was an order to
dig a third one, from which later a certain Jew, a skilful gunner,
annoyed the Turks greatly.
These arrangements made, all the council went to sup with
the starosta, who at that entertainment honored Pan Michael
particularly with place, wine, food, and conversation, foreseeing
that for his action in the siege posterity would add to the title
of “Little Knight” that of “Hector of Kamenyets.” Volodyovski
declared that he wished to serve earnestly, and in view of that
intended to make a certain vow in the cathedral; hence he prayed
the bishop to let him make it on the morrow.
The bishop, seeing that public profit might come from the vow,
promised willingly.
Next morning there was a solemn service in the cathedral. Knights,
nobles, soldiers, and common people heard it with devotion and
elevation of spirit. Pan Michael and Ketling lay each in the form
of a cross before the altar; Krysia and Basia were kneeling near
by beyond the railing, weeping, for they knew that that vow might
bring danger to the lives of their husbands.
At the end of Mass, the bishop turned to the people with the
monstrance; then the little knight rose, and kneeling on the steps
of the altar, said with a moved but calm voice,--
“Feeling deep gratitude for the special benefactions and particular
protection which I have received from the Lord God the Most High,
and from His only Son, I vow and take oath that as He and His Son
have aided me, so will I to my last breath defend the Holy Cross.
And since command of the old castle is confided to me, while I am
alive and can move hands and feet, I will not admit to the castle
the Pagan enemy, who live in vileness, nor will I leave the wall,
nor will I raise a white rag, even should it come to me to be
buried there under ruins. So help me God and the Holy Cross! Amen!”
A solemn silence reigned in the church; then the voice of Ketling
was heard.
“I promise,” said he, “for the particular benefactions which I have
experienced in this fatherland, to defend the castle to the last
drop of my blood, and to bury myself under its ruins, rather than
let a foot of the enemy enter its walls. And as I take this oath
with a clean heart and out of pure gratitude, so help me God and
the Holy Cross! Amen!”
Here the bishop held down the monstrance, and gave it to
Volodyovski to kiss, then to Ketling. At sight of this the numerous
knights in the church raised a buzz. Voices were heard: “We will
all swear!” “We will lie one upon another!” “This fortress will
not fall!” “We will swear!” “Amen, amen, amen!” Sabres and rapiers
came out with a gritting from the scabbard, and the church became
bright from the steel. That gleam shone on threatening faces and
glittering eyes; a great, indescribable enthusiasm seized the
nobles, soldiers, and people. Then all the bells were sounded;
the organ roared; the bishop intoned, “Sub Tuum præsidium;” a
hundred voices thundered in answer; and thus they prayed for that
fortress which was the watchtower of Christendom and the key of the
Commonwealth.
At the conclusion of the service Ketling and Pan Michael went
out of the church hand in hand. Blessings and praise were given
them on the way, for no one doubted that they would die rather
than surrender the castle. Not death, however, but victory and
glory seemed to float over them; and it is likely that among all
those people they alone knew how terrible the oath was with which
they had bound themselves. Perhaps also two loving hearts had a
presentiment of the destruction which was hanging over their heads,
for neither Basia nor Krysia could gain self-composure; and when at
last Pan Michael found himself in the cloister with his wife, she,
choking from tears, and sobbing like a little child, nestled up to
his breast, and said in a broken voice,--
“Remember--Michael--God keep misfortune from you--I--I--know not
what--will become of me!”
And she began to tremble from emotion; the little knight was moved
greatly too. After a time he said,--
“But, Basia, it was necessary.”
“I would rather die!” said Basia.
Hearing this, the little knight’s mustaches quivered more and more
quickly, and he repeated a number of times,--
“Quiet, Basia, quiet.” Then at last he said, to calm the woman
loved above all,--
“And do you remember that when the Lord God brought you back to
me, I said thus, ‘Whatever return is proper, O Lord God, I promise
Thee. After the war, if I am alive, I will build a chapel; but
during the war I must do something noteworthy, so as not to feed
Thee with ingratitude’? What is a castle? It is little for such
a benefaction. The time has come. Is it proper that the Saviour
should say to Himself, ‘His promise is a plaything’? May the stones
of the castle crush me before I break my word of a cavalier, given
to God. It is necessary, Basia; and that is the whole thing. Let us
trust in God, Basia.”