Preparations for starting went forward briskly. Attendants were chosen
with care, strong men and sober. Arms, horses, wagons, and brichkas
were ready. Observing ways of the period, they had not forgotten dogs,
which in time of marching went under the wagons and at places of rest
were used to hunt hares and foxes. The multitude of supplies and the
preparations astonished the lady, who had not supposed that campaigning
demanded such details, and, thinking this trouble taken perhaps for her
safety, she inquired of Pan Serafin touching the matter. He, as a
prudent man, and one of experience, replied thus to her,--
"It is certain that we have thy person in mind, for, as I think, we
shall not leave here without meeting some violence from Martsian. Thou
hast heard that he has summoned his roysterers with whom he is
bargaining and drinking. We should be disgraced were we to let any man
snatch thee away from us. What will be, will be, but though we had to
fall one on another, we must take thee to Cracow uninjured." Then she
kissed his hand, saying that she was not worthy to cause them this
peril; but he waved his hand simply.
"We should not dare to appear before men," said he, "unless we did
this, and matters moreover are such that each coincides with the other.
It is not enough to set out for a war, one must prepare for it wisely.
Thou art astonished that we have three or four horses each man of us,
as well as attendants, but thou must know that in war horses are the
main question; many of them die on the way, crossing rivers and
marshes, or from various camp accidents. And then what? If thou buy in
haste a new horse, with faults and bad habits, that beast will fail at
the critical moment. Though my son and Tachevski took a good party and
excellent horses, we have foreseen every accident, and take each a new
saddle beast. Father Voynovski, unrivalled in knowledge of horses,
bought cheaply from old Pan Podlodovski such a Turkish steed for Pan
Yatsek that the hetman himself would not refuse to appear on him."
"Which horse is for your son?" inquired the young lady.
Pan Serafin looked at her, and shook his head smiling.
"Well, Father Voynovski is right in his judgment of woman. 'That evil,'
said he, 'will be sly, even if it be the most honest.' Thou askest
which horse is for Stanislav. Well, I answer in this way. Yatsek's
horse is that sorrel with a star on his forehead, and a white left hind
fetlock."
"You annoy me!" exclaimed the young lady.
And spitting like a cat at him, she turned, and then vanished. But that
same day the pith of small loaves of bread and some salt disappeared
from the dishes, and Lukash the next day beheld something curious. At
the well in the courtyard the sorrel horse had his nose in the white
hands of the lady, and when he was led later on to the stable he looked
back at her time after time expressing with short neighs his yearning.
Lukash could not learn at the time the cause of this "confidence," for
he was intent on loading a wagon, so it was some time after midday that
he approached the young lady, and said, with eyes glowing from
emotion,--
"Have you noticed one thing?"
"What?" inquired Panna Anulka.
"That even a beast knows a real dainty."
She forgot that he had seen her in the morning, and noting that look in
his eyes raised her beautiful brows with astonishment.
"What have you in mind?" asked she.
"What?" repeated Lukash, "Yatsek's horse!"
"Oh, a horse!"
Then she burst into laughter and ran from the porch to her chamber.
He stood there astonished, and a little confused, understanding neither
why she had run from him, nor what had roused her sudden laughter.
Another week passed, and preparations were then almost finished, but
somehow Pan Serafin was not urgent for the journey. He deferred it from
day to day, improved various details, complained of heat, and at last
drooped in spirits. Anulka was eager to be on the road. The Bukoyemskis
were growing uneasy, and at length Father Voynovski agreed that farther
delay was a loss of time without reason. But Pan Serafin met their
impatience with these words,--
"I have news that the king has not gone yet to Cracow, and will not go
quickly. Meantime the troops are to meet there, but only in part, and
no one knows the day of this meeting. I ordered Stanislav to send me a
man every month, with a letter giving details as to where regiments are
quartered, whither they are to march, and under whose orders. Seven
weeks have passed without tidings. A letter may come to me now any
moment, hence my delay; and I am alarmed somewhat. Think not that we
must find our young men at Cracow, in every case. On the contrary, it
may happen that they will not be there at any time."
"How is that?" inquired Anulka, disquieted.
"This, that regiments do not need to march through Cracow. Wherever a
regiment is it can move thence as directly as the stroke of a sickle,
but where Pan Zbierhovski may be at the moment I know not. He may have
been sent to the boundary of Silesia, or to the army of the grand
hetman who is coming from Russia. Regiments are hurried from place to
place very often, just to train them in marching. In the course of
seven weeks various commands may have come of which Stanislav should
have informed me, but he has not done so. Hence I am anxious, for it is
well known that in camps there are frequent disputes and also duels.
Perhaps something has happened. But even if all is in order, we ought
to know where the regiment is, and what is its starting point."
All became gloomy at these words, save Father Voynovski.
"A regiment is not a needle," said he "nor is it a button, which if
torn from a coat is found with much difficulty. Be not concerned over
this. We shall learn of them in Cracow more quickly than we could here
in Yedlinka."
"But on the road we may miss the letter."
"Leave a command to send it on after us. That is the right way.
Meanwhile in Cracow we will find the safest place possible for the
lady, and then our minds will be free when we start for the second
time."
"Reason! Reason!"
"This is my advice then. If no letter comes ere to-morrow we will start
in the cool of the evening for Radom--then farther, to Kieltse,
Yendreyov, and Miehov."
"Perhaps the day after during daylight we could reach Radom, so as not
to pass in the night through those forests, and thus avoid an ambush if
the Krepetskis should make one."
"An ambush is nothing! Better go in the cool!" said Mateush. "If they
attack they will do so as well in the day as at night, and now at night
things are visible."
Then he rubbed his hands gleefully. The three others followed his
example.
But Father Voynovski thought otherwise. He had great doubts touching a
road attack.
"Martsian might perhaps venture, but the old man is too prudent; he
knows too well what such a deed signifies and how much, more than once,
men have suffered for violence to women. Besides against the power of
our party Martsian could not reckon on victory, while in every event he
could reckon on vengeance from Yatsek and Stanislav."
The delight of the Bukoyemskis was spoiled by the priest, but they were
soothed by Vilchopolski, who struck the floor with his wooden leg,
shook his head, and opposed, saying,--
"Though up to Radom and even to Kieltse and Miehov you meet no
adventure, I advise you to neglect no precaution till you touch the
gates of Cracow; along the road there are woods everywhere, and I, as a
man knowing Martsian best of all, am convinced that that devil is now
planning an ambush."