Yatsek was really wounded. One of those robbers, who defended
themselves to the utmost, cut him, with a scythe in the left shoulder,
and since he and the men marched without mail, the very end of the iron
had cut into his arm rather deeply from the shoulder to the elbow. The
wound was not over grievous, but it bled quite profusely; because of
this the young man had then fainted. The experienced Father Voynovski
commanded to put him in a wagon, and, when the wound had been dressed,
he left him in care of the women. Yatsek opened his eyes somewhat
later, and began again to look, as at a rainbow, into the face of Panna
Anulka, which was there bending over him.
Meanwhile the attendants filled the ditch and removed all obstructions.
The wagons and the men passed to the dry road beyond, where they halted
to bring the train into order, take some rest, and question the
prisoners. From Tachevski the priest went to the Bukoyemskis to see if
they had suffered. But they had not. The horses were torn and even
stabbed with forks, but not seriously; the men themselves were in
excellent humor, for all were admiring their valor, since they had
crushed before war, more opponents than had many others during years of
campaigning.
"Now, gentlemen, ye may join Pan Zbierhovski," said the hussars here
and there. "From of old it is known, and God grant that men will see
soon, that our regiment is the first even among hussars. Pan
Zbierhovski admits no common men, or any man easily, but he will accept
you with gladness, and we shall be charmed from our hearts to find you
in our company."
The Bukoyemskis knew that this might not be, for they could not have
the attendants, or the outfit demanded in such a high regiment, but
they listened to those speeches with rapture, and when cups went the
round, they let no man surpass them.
When that part was ended, the captured bandits were seized by their
heads, and led from the mud to Zbierhovski and the priest and Pan
Serafin. No bandit had escaped, for with a detachment of twelve hundred
there were men to surround the whole quagmire and both ends of the
ridgeway. The appearance of the prisoners astonished Pan Serafin. He
had thought to find Martsian among them, as he had told Stanislav, and
Martsian's Radom outcasts also; meanwhile he saw before him a ragged
rabble reeking with turf and bespattered with mud of the ridgeway, a
company made up, like all bodies of that kind, of deserters from the
infantry, of runaway servants and serfs, in a word, of all kinds of
wicked, wild scoundrels working at robbery in remote places and
forests. Many such parties were raging, especially in the wooded region
of Sandomir, and since they were strengthened by men who were eager for
anything, men who if captured were threatened with terrible punishment,
their attacks were uncommonly daring, and they fought savage battles.
The search through the quagmire continued for a time yet, then Pan
Serafin turned to Zbierhovski.
"Gracious colonel," said he. "These are highway robbers. We thought
them quite different. This was an attack of common bandits. We thank
you, and all your men with grateful hearts for effective assistance,
without which, as is possible, we should not have seen the sun rise
this morning."
"These night marches are good," said Zbierhovski, and he smiled while
he was speaking. "The heat does not trouble, and it is possible to
serve others. Do you wish to examine these captives immediately?"
"Since I have looked at them closely already, it is not needed. The
court in the town will examine them, and the headsman will guide them."
At this a tall, bony fellow, with a gloomy face, and light hair pushed
out from the captives and said, as he bent to Pan Serafin's stirrup.
"Great mighty lord, spare our lives, and we will tell truth. We are
common bandits, but the attack was not common."
The priest and Pan Serafin, on hearing this, looked at each other with
roused curiosity.
"Who art thou?" asked the priest.
"I am a chief. There were two of us, for this party was formed of two
bands, but the other man fell. Give me pardon, and I will tell
everything."
Father Voynovski stopped for a moment.
"We cannot save you from justice," said he, "but for you it is better
in every case to tell truth, than be forced to declare it under
torture. Besides, if ye confess, God's judgment and man's will be more
lenient."
The bandit looked at his companions, uncertain whether to speak or be
silent. Meanwhile the priest added,--
"And if ye tell the whole truth, we can intercede with the king, and
commend you to his mercy. He accepts offenders in the infantry, and
recommends mercy now to judges."
"In that case," said the man, "I will tell everything. My name is Obuh;
the leader of the other band was Kos, and a noble engaged us to fall on
your graces."
"But do ye know the name of that noble?"
"I did not know him, for I am from distant places, but Kos knew him,
and said his name was Vysh."
The priest and Pan Serafin looked at each other with astonishment.
"Vysh,[6] didst thou say?"
"Yes."
"But was there no one with him?"
"There was another, a lean, thin, young man."
"Not they," said Pan Serafin to the priest in a whisper.
"But they may have been Martsian's company."
Then he said aloud to the man,--
"What did they tell you to do?"
"This: 'Do what ye like with the people,' said they; 'the wagons and
plunder are yours; but in the company there is a young lady whom ye are
to take and bring by roundabout ways between Radom and Zvolenie to
Polichna. Beyond Polichna a party will attack you and take the lady. Ye
will pretend to defend her, but not so as to harm our men. Ye will get
a thaler apiece for this, besides what ye find in the wagons.'"
"That is as if on one's palm," said the priest.
"Then did only those two talk with Kos and thee?"
"Later, a third person came in the night with them; he gave us a ducat
apiece to bind the agreement. Though the place was as dark as in a
cellar, one of our men who had been a serf of his recognized that third
person as Pan Krepetski."
"Ha! that is he!" cried Pan Serafin.
"And is that man here, or has he fallen?" inquired Father Voynovski.
"I am here!" called out a voice from some distance.
"Come nearer. Didst thou recognize Pan Krepetski? But how, since it was
so dark, that thou couldst hit a man on the snout without knowing it?"
"Because I know him from childhood. I knew him by his bow-legs and his
head, which sits, as it were, in a hole between his shoulders, and by
his voice."
"Did he speak to you?"
"He spoke with us, and afterward I heard him speak to those who came
with him."
"What did he say to them?"
"He said this: 'If I could have trusted money with you, I should not
have come, even if the night were still darker.'"
"And wilt thou testify to this before the mayor in the town, or the
starosta?"
"I will."
"When he heard this, Pan Zbierhovski turned to his attendants and
said,--
"Guard this man with special care, for me."