These thoughts did not let Volodyovski sleep on the night following.
For a number of days he was thinking continually of Panna Aleksandra,
and saw that she had dropped deeply into his heart. Besides, the Lauda
nobles wished to bring about a marriage between them. It is true that
she had refused him without hesitation, but at that time she neither
knew him nor had seen him. Now it was something quite different. He had
wrested her in knightly fashion from the hands of a man of violence,
had exposed himself to bullets and sabres, had captured her like a
fortress. Whose is she, if not his? Can she refuse him anything, even
her hand? Well, shall he not try? Perhaps affection has begun in her
from gratitude, since it happens often in the world that the rescued
lady gives straightway her hand to her rescuer. If she has not
conceived an affection for him as yet, it behooves him all the more to
exert himself in the matter.
"But if she remembers and loves the other man still?"
"It cannot be," repeated Volodyovski to himself; "if she had not
rejected him, he would not have taken her by force. She showed, it is
true, uncommon kindness to him; but it is a woman's work to take pity
on the wounded, even if they are enemies. She is young, without
guardianship; it is time for her to marry. It is clear that she
has no vocation for the cloister, or she would have entered one
already. There has been time enough. Men will annoy such a comely lady
continually,--some for her fortune, others for her beauty, and still
others for her high blood. Oh, a defence the reality of which she can
see with her own eyes will be dear to her. It is time too for thee to
settle down, my dear Michael!" said Volodyovski to himself. "Thou art
young yet, but the years hurry swiftly. Thou wilt win not fortune in
service, but rather more wounds in thy skin, and to thy giddy life will
come an end."
Here through the memory of Pan Volodyovski passed a whole line of young
ladies after whom he had sighed in his life. Among them were some very
beautiful and of high blood, but one more charming and distinguished
there was not. Besides, the people of these parts exalted that family
and that lady, and from her eyes there looked such honesty that may God
give no worse wife to the best man.
Pan Volodyovski felt that a prize was meeting him which might not come
a second time, and this the more since he had rendered the lady such
uncommon service. "Why delay?" said he to himself. "What better can I
wait for? I must try."
Pshaw! but war is at hand. His arm was well. It was a shame for a
knight to go courting when his country was stretching forth its hands
imploring deliverance. Pan Michael had the heart of an honest soldier;
and though he had served almost from boyhood, though he had taken part
in nearly all the wars of his time, he knew what he owed his country,
and he dreamed not of rest.
Precisely because he had served his country not for gain, reward, or
praise, but from his soul, had he in that regard a clean conscience, he
felt his worth, and that gave him solace. "Others were frolicking, but
I was fighting," thought he. "The Lord God will reward the little
soldier, and will help him this time."
But he saw that soon there would be no time for courting; there was
need to act promptly, and put everything on the hazard at once,--to
make a proposal on the spot, and either marry after short bans or eat a
watermelon.[12] "I have eaten more than one; I'll eat another this
time," muttered Volodyovski, moving his yellow mustaches. "What harm
will it do?"
But there was one side to this sudden decision which did not please
him. He put the question to himself if going with a visit so soon after
saving the lady he would not be like an importunate creditor who wishes
a debt to be paid with usury and as quickly as possible. Perhaps it
will not be in knightly fashion? Nonsense! for what can gratitude be
asked, if not for service? And if this haste does not please the heart
of the lady, if she looks askance at him, why, he can say to her,
"Gracious lady, I would have come courting one year, and gazed at you
as if I were near-sighted; but I am a soldier, and the trumpets are
sounding for battle!"
"So I'll go," said Pan Volodyovski.
But after a while another thought entered his head: if she says, "Go to
war, noble soldier, and after the war you will visit me during one year
and look at me like a nearsighted man, for I will not give in a moment
my soul and my body to one whom I know not!"
Then all will be lost! That it would be lost Pan Volodyovski felt
perfectly; for leaving aside the lady whom in the interval some other
man might marry, Volodyovski was not sure of his own constancy.
Conscience declared that in him love was kindled like straw, but
quenched as quickly.
Then all will be lost! And then wander on farther, thou soldier, a
vagrant from one camp to another, from battle to battle, with no roof
in the world, with no living soul of thy kindred! Search the four
corners of earth when the war will be over, not knowing a place for thy
heart save the barracks!
At last Volodyovski knew not what to do. It had become in a certain
fashion narrow and stifling for him in the Patsuneli house; he took his
cap therefore to go out on the road and enjoy the May sun. On the
threshold he came upon one of Kmita's men taken prisoner, who in the
division of spoils had come to old Pakosh. The Cossack was warming
himself in the sun and playing on a bandura.
"What art thou doing here?" asked Volodyovski.
"I am playing," answered the Cossack, raising his thin face,
"Whence art thou?" asked Volodyovski, glad to have some interruption to
his thoughts.
"From afar, from the Viahla."
"Why not run away like the rest of thy comrades? Oh, such kind of sons!
The nobles spared your lives in Lyubich so as to have laborers, and
your comrades all ran away as soon as the ropes were removed."
"I will not run away. I'll die here like a dog."
"So it has pleased thee here?"
"He runs away who feels better in the field; it is better for me here.
I had my leg shot through, and the old man's daughter here dressed it,
and she spoke a kind word. Such a beauty I have not seen before with my
eyes. Why should I go away?"
"Which one pleased thee so?"
"Maryska."
"And so thou wilt remain?"
"If I die, they will carry me out; if not, I will remain."
"Dost thou think to earn Pakosh's daughter?"
"I know not."
"He would give death to such a poor fellow before he would his
daughter."
"I have gold pieces buried in the woods," said the Cossack,--"two
purses."
"From robbery?"
"From robbery."
"Even if thou hadst a pot of gold, thou art a peasant and Pakosh is a
noble."
"I am an attendant boyar."
"If thou art an attendant boyar, thou art worse than a peasant, for
thou'rt a traitor. How couldst thou serve the enemy?"
"I did not serve the enemy."
"And where did Pan Kmita find thee and thy comrades?"
"On the road. I served with the full hetman; but the squadron went to
pieces, for we had nothing to eat. I had no reason to go home, for my
house was burned. Others went to rob on the road, and I went with
them."
Volodyovski wondered greatly, for hitherto he had thought that Kmita
had attacked Olenka with forces obtained from the enemy.
"So Pan Kmita did not get thee from Trubetskoi?"
"Most of the other men had served before with Trubetskoi and Hovanski,
but they had run away too and taken to the road."
"Why did you go with Pan Kmita?"
"Because he is a splendid ataman. We were told that when he called on
any one to go with him, thalers as it were flowed out of a bag, to that
man. That's why we went. Well, God did not give us good luck!"
Volodyovski began to rack his head, and to think that they had
blackened Kmita too much; then he looked at the pale attendant boyar
and again racked his head.
"And so thou art in love with her?"
"Oi, so much!"
Volodyovski walked away, and while going he thought: "That is a
resolute man. He did not break his head; he fell in love and remained.
Such men are best. If he is really an attendant boyar, he is of the
same rank as the village nobles. When he digs up his gold pieces,
perhaps the old man will give him Maryska. And why? Because he did not
go to drumming with his fingers, but made up his mind that he would get
her. I'll make up my mind too."
Thus meditating, Volodyovski walked along the road in the sunshine.
Sometimes he would stop, fix his eyes on the ground or raise them to
the sky, then again go farther, till all at once he saw a flock of wild
ducks flying through the air. He began to soothsay whether he should go
or not. It came out that he was to go.
"I will go; it cannot be otherwise."
When he had said this he turned toward the house; but on the way he
went once more to the stable, before which his two servants were
playing dice.
"Syruts, is Basior's mane plaited?"
"Plaited, Colonel!"
Volodyovski went into the stable. Basior neighed at him from the
manger; the knight approached the horse, patted him on the side, and
then began to count the braids on his neck. "Go--not go--go." Again the
soothsaying came out favorably.
"Saddle the horse and dress decently," commanded Volodyovski.
Then he went to the house quickly, and began to dress. He put on high
cavalry boots, yellow, with gilded spurs, and a new red uniform,
besides a rapier with steel scabbard, the hilt ornamented with gold; in
addition a half breastplate of bright steel covering only the upper
part of the breast near the neck. He had also a lynxskin cap with a
beautiful heron feather; but since that was worn only with a Polish
dress, he left it in the trunk, put on a Swedish helmet with a vizor,
and went out before the porch.
"Where is your grace going?" asked old Pakosh, who was sitting on the
railing.
"Where am I going? It is proper for me to go and inquire after the
health of your lady; if not, she might think me rude."
"From your grace there is a blaze like fire. Every bulfinch is a fool
in comparison! Unless the lady is without eyes, she will fall in love
in a minute."
Just then the two youngest daughters of Pakosh hurried up on their way
home from the forenoon milking, each with a pail of milk. When they saw
Volodyovski they stood as if fixed to the earth from wonder.
"Is it a king or not?" asked Zonia.
"Your grace is like one going to a wedding," added Marysia.
"Maybe there will be a wedding," laughed old Pakosh, "for he is going
to see our lady."
Before the old man had stopped speaking the full pail dropped from the
hand of Marysia, and a stream of milk flowed along till it reached the
feet of Volodyovski.
"Pay attention to what you are holding!" said Pakosh, angrily. "Giddy
thing!"
Marysia said nothing; she raised the pail and walked off in silence.
Volodyovski mounted his horse; his two servants followed him, riding
abreast, and the three moved on toward Vodokty. The day was beautiful.
The May sun played on the breastplate and helmet of the colonel, so
that when at a distance he was gleaming among the willows it seemed
that another sun was pushing along the road.
"I am curious to know whether I shall come back with a ring or a
melon?" said the knight to himself.
"What is your grace saying?" asked Syruts.
"Thou art a blockhead!"
Syruts reined in his horse, and Volodyovski continued: "The whole luck
of the matter is that it is not the first time!"
This idea gave him uncommon comfort.
When he arrived at Vodokty, Panna Aleksandra did not recognize him at
the first moment, and he had to repeat his name. She greeted him
heartily, but ceremoniously and with a certain constraint; but he
presented himself befittingly,--for though a soldier, not a courtier,
he had still lived long at great houses, had been among people. He
bowed to her therefore with great respect, and placing his hand on his
heart spoke as follows:--
"I have come to inquire about the health of my lady benefactress,
whether some pain has not come from the fright. I ought to have done
this the day after, but I did not wish to give annoyance."
"It is very kind of you to keep me in mind after having saved me from
such straits. Sit down, for you are a welcome guest."
"My lady," replied Volodyovski, "had I forgotten you I should not have
deserved the favor which God sent when he permitted me to give aid to
so worthy a person."
"No, I ought to thank first God, and then you."
"Then let us both thank; for I implore nothing else than this,--that he
grant me to defend you as often as need comes."
Pan Michael now moved his waxed mustaches, which curled up higher than
his nose, for he was satisfied with himself for having gone straight in
_medias res_ and placed his sentiments, so to speak, on the table. She
sat embarrassed and silent, but beautiful as a spring day. A slight
flush came on her cheeks, and she covered her eyes with the long lashes
from which shadows fell on the pupils.
"That confusion is a good sign," thought Volodyovski; and coughing he
proceeded: "You know, I suppose, that I led the Lauda men after your
grandfather?"
"I know," answered Olenka. "My late grandfather was unable to make the
last campaign, but he was wonderfully glad when he heard whom the
voevoda of Vilna had appointed to the command, and said that he knew
you by reputation as a splendid soldier."
"Did he say that?"
"I myself heard how he praised you to the skies, and how the Lauda men
did the same after the campaign."
"I am a simple soldier, not worthy of being exalted to the skies, nor
above other men. Still I rejoice that I am not quite a stranger, for
you do not think now that an unknown and uncertain guest has fallen
with the last rain from the clouds. Many people are wandering about who
call themselves persons of high family and say they are in office, and
God knows who they are; perhaps often they are not even nobles."
Pan Volodyovski gave the conversation this turn with the intent to
speak of himself and of what manner of man he was. Olenka answered at
once,--
"No one would think that of you, for there are nobles of the same name
in Lithuania."
"But they have the seal Ossorya, while I am a Korchak Volodyovski and
we take our origin from Hungary from a certain noble, Atylla, who while
pursued by his enemies made a vow to the Most Holy Lady that he would
turn from Paganism to the Catholic faith if he should escape with
his life. He kept this vow after he had crossed three rivers in
safety,--the same rivers that we bear on our shield."
"Then your family is not from those parts?"
"No, my lady, I am from the Ukraine of the Russian Volodyovskis, and to
this time I own villages there which the enemy have occupied; but I
serve in the army from youth, thinking less of land than of the harm
inflicted on our country by strangers. I have served from the earliest
years with the voevoda of Rus, our not sufficiently lamented Prince
Yeremi, with whom I have been in all his wars. I was at Mahnovka and at
Konstantinoff; I endured the hunger of Zbaraj, and after Berestechko
our gracious lord the king pressed my head. God is my witness that I
have not come here to praise myself, but desire that you might know, my
lady, that I am no hanger-on, whose work is in shouting and who spares
his own blood, but that my life has been passed in honorable service in
which some little fame was won, and my conscience stained in nothing,
so God be my aid! And to this worthy people can give testimony."
"Would that all were like you!" sighed Olenka.
"Surely you have now in mind that man of violence who dared to raise
his godless hand against you."
Panna Aleksandra fixed her eyes on the floor, and said not a word.
"He has received pay for his deeds," continued Volodyovski, "though it
is said that he will recover, still he will not escape punishment. All
honorable people condemn him, and even too much; for they say that he
had relations with the enemy so as to obtain reinforcements,--which is
untrue, for those men with whom he attacked you did not come from the
enemy, but were collected on the highway."
"How do you know that?" asked the lady, raising her blue eyes to
Volodyovski.
"From the Cossacks themselves. He is a wonderful man, that Kmita; for
when I accused him of treason before the duel he made no denial, though
I accused him unjustly. It is clear that there is a devilish pride in
him."
"And have you said everywhere that he is not a traitor?"
"I have not, for I did not know that he was not a traitor; but now I
will say so. It is wrong to cast such a calumny even on our own
greatest enemy."
Panna Aleksandra's eyes rested a second time on the little knight with
an expression of sympathy and gratitude. "You are so honorable a man
that your equal is rare."
Volodyovski fell to twitching his mustaches time after time with
contentment. "To business, Michael dear!" said he, mentally. Then aloud
to the lady: "I will say more: I blame Pan Kmita's method, but I do not
wonder that he tried to obtain you, my lady, in whose service Venus
herself might act as a maid. Despair urged him on to an evil deed, and
will surely urge him a second time, should opportunity offer. How will
you remain alone, with such beauty and without protection? There are
more men like Kmita in the world; you will rouse more such ardors, and
will expose your honor to fresh perils. God sent me favor that I was
able to free you, but now the trumpets of Gradivus call me. Who will
watch over you? My gracious lady, they accuse soldiers of fickleness,
but unjustly. Neither is my heart of rock, and it cannot remain
indifferent to so many excellent charms."
Here Volodyovski fell on both knees before Olenka. "My gracious lady,"
said he, while kneeling, "I inherited the command after your
grandfather; let me inherit the granddaughter too. Give me guardianship
over you; let me enjoy the bliss of mutual affection. Take me as a
perpetual protection, and you will be at rest and free from care, for
though I go to the war my name itself will defend you."
The lady sprang from the chair and heard Pan Volodyovski with
astonishment; but he still spoke on:--
"I am a poor soldier, but a noble, and a man of honor. I swear to you
that on my shield and on my conscience not the slightest stain can be
found. I am at fault perhaps in this haste; but understand too that I
am called by the country, which will not yield even for you. Will you
not comfort me,--will you not give me solace, will you not say a kind
word?"
"You ask the impossible. As God lives, that cannot be!" answered
Olenka, with fright.
"It depends on your will."
"For that reason I say no to you promptly." Here she frowned. "Worthy
sir, I am indebted to you much, I do not deny it. Ask what you like, I
am ready to give everything except my hand."
Pan Volodyovski rose. "Then you do not wish me, my lady? Is that true?"
"I cannot."
"And that is your last word?"
"The last and irrevocable word."
"Perhaps the haste only has displeased you. Give me some hope."
"I cannot, I cannot."
"Then there is no success for me here, as elsewhere there was none. My
worthy lady, offer not pay for services, I have not come for that; and
if I ask your hand it is not as pay, but from your own good-will. Were
you to say that you give it because you must, I would not take it.
Where there is no freedom there is no happiness. You have disdained me.
God grant that a worse do not meet you. I go from this house as I
entered, save this that I shall not come here again. I am accounted
here as nobody. Well, let it be so. Be happy even with that very Kmita,
for perhaps you are angry because I placed a sabre between you. If he
seems better to you, then in truth you are not for me."
Olenka seized her temples with her hands, and repeated a number of
times: "O God! O God! O God!"
But that pain of hers made no impression on Volodyovski, who, when he
had bowed, went out angry and wrathful; then he mounted at once and
rode off.
"A foot of mine shall never stand there again!" said he, aloud.
His attendant Syruts riding behind pushed up at once. "What does your
grace say?"
"Blockhead!" answered Volodyovski.
"You told me that when we were coming hither."
Silence followed; then Volodyovski began to mutter again: "Ah, I was
entertained there with ingratitude, paid for affection with contempt.
It will come to me surely to serve in the cavalry till death; that is
fated. Such a devil of a lot fell to me,--every move a refusal! There
is no justice on earth. What did she find against me?"
Here Pan Michael frowned, and began to work mightily with his brain;
all at once he slapped his leg with his hand. "I know now," shouted he;
"she loves that fellow yet,--it cannot be otherwise."
But this idea did not clear his face. "So much the worse for me,"
thought he, after a while; "for if she loves him yet, she will not stop
loving him. He has already done his worst. He may go to war, win glory,
repair his reputation. And it is not right to hinder him; he should
rather be aided, for that is a service to the country. He is a good
soldier, 'tis true. But how did he fascinate her so? Who can tell? Some
have such fortune that if one of them looks on a woman she is ready to
follow him into fire. If a man only knew how this is done or could get
some captive spirit, perhaps he might effect something. Merit has no
weight with a fair head. Pan Zagloba said wisely that a fox and a woman
are the most treacherous creatures alive. But I grieve that all is
lost. Oh, she is a terribly beautiful woman, and honorable and
virtuous, as they say; ambitious as the devil,--that's evident. Who
knows that she will marry him though she loves him, for he has offended
and disappointed her sorely. He might have won her in peace, but he
chose to be lawless. She is willing to resign everything,--marriage and
children. It is grievous for me, but maybe it is worse for her, poor
thing!"
Here Volodyovski fell into a fit of tenderness over the fate of Olenka,
and began to rack his brain and smack his lips. At last he said,--
"May God aid her! I have no ill feeling against her! It is not the
first refusal for me, but for her it is the first suffering. The poor
woman can scarcely recover now from sorrows. I have put out her eyes
with this Kmita, and besides have given her gall to drink. It was not
right to do that, and I must repair the wrong. I wish bullets had
struck me, for I have acted rudely. I will write a letter asking
forgiveness, and then help her in what way I can."
Further thoughts concerning Pan Kmita were interrupted by the attendant
Syruts, who riding forward again said: "Pardon, but over there on the
hill is Pan Kharlamp riding with some one else."
"Where?"
"Over there!"
"It is true that two horsemen are visible, but Pan Kharlamp remained
with the prince voevoda of Vilna. How dost thou know him so far away?"
"By his cream-colored horse. The whole array knows that horse
anywhere."
"As true as I live, there is a cream-colored horse in view, but it may
be some other man's horse."
"When I recognize the gait, it is surely Pan Kharlamp."
They spurred on; the other horsemen did the same, and soon Volodyovski
saw that Pan Kharlamp was in fact approaching.
Pan Kharlamp was the lieutenant of a light-horse squadron in the
Lithuanian quota. Pan Volodyovski's acquaintance of long standing, an
old soldier and a good one. Once he and the little knight had
quarrelled fiercely, but afterward while serving together and
campaigning they acquired a love for each other. Volodyovski sprang
forward quickly, and opening his arms cried,--
"How do you prosper, O Great-nose? Whence do you come?"
The officer--who in truth deserved the nickname of Great-nose, for he
had a mighty nose--fell into the embraces of the colonel, and greeted
him joyously; then after he had recovered his breath, he said, "I have
come to you with a commission and money."
"But from whom?"
"From the prince voevoda of Vilna, our hetman. He sends you a
commission to begin a levy at once, and another commission to Pan
Kmita, who must be in this neighborhood."
"To Pan Kmita also? How shall we both make a levy in one neighborhood?"
"He is to go to Troki, and you to remain in these parts."
"How did you know where to look for me?"
"The hetman himself inquired carefully till the people from this place
who have remained near him told where to find you. I came with sure
information. You are in great and continual favor there. I have heard
the prince himself say that he had not hoped to inherit anything from
Prince Yeremi, but still he did inherit the greatest of knights."
"May God grant him to inherit the military success of Yeremi! It is a
great honor for me to conduct a levy. I will set about it at once.
There is no lack of warlike people here, if there was only something
with which to give them an outfit. Have you brought much money?"
"You will count it at Patsuneli."
"So you have been there already? But be careful; for there are shapely
girls in Patsuneli, like poppies in a garden."
"Ah, that is why stopping there pleased you! But wait, I have a private
letter from the hetman to you."
"Then give it."
Kharlamp drew forth a letter with the small seal of the Radzivills.
Volodyovski opened it and began to read:--
Worthy Colonel Pan Volodyovski,--Knowing your sincere wish to serve the
country, I send you a commission to make a levy, and not as is usually
done, but with great haste, for _periculum in mora_ (there is danger in
delay). If you wish to give us joy, then let the squadron be mustered
and ready for the campaign by the end of July, or the middle of August
at the latest. We are anxious to know how you can find good horses,
especially since we send money sparingly, for more we could not hammer
from the under-treasurer, who after his old fashion is unfriendly to
us. Give one half of this money to Pan Kmita, for whom Pan Kharlamp has
also a commission. We hope that he will serve us zealously. But tidings
have come to our ears of his violence in Upita, therefore it is
better for you to take the letter directed to him from Kharlamp, and
discover yourself whether to deliver it to him or not. Should you
consider the accusations against him too great, and creating infamy,
then do not give it, for we are afraid lest our enemies--such as the
under-treasurer, and the voevoda of Vityebsk--might raise outcries
against us because we commit such functions to unworthy persons. But if
you give the letter after having found that there is nothing important,
let Pan Kmita endeavor to wipe away his faults by the greatest exertion
in service, and in no case to appear in the courts, for he belongs to
our hetman's jurisdiction,--we and no one else will judge him. Pay
attention to our charge at once, in view of the confidence which we
have in your judgment and faithful service.
Yanush Radzivill,
_Prince in Birji and Dubinki, Voevoda of Vilna_.
"The hetman is terribly anxious about horses for you," said Kharlamp,
when the little knight had finished reading.
"It will surely be difficult in the matter of horses," answered
Volodyovski. "A great number of the small nobility here will rally at
the first summons, but they have only wretched little Jmud ponies, not
very capable of service. For a good campaign it would be needful to
give them all fresh horses."
"Those are good horses; I know them of old, wonderfully enduring and
active."
"Bah!" responded Volodyovski, "but small, and the men here are large.
If they should form in line on such horses, you would think them a
squadron mounted on dogs. There is where the rub is. I will work with
zeal, for I am in haste myself. Leave Kmita's commission with me, as
the hetman commands; I will give it to him. It has come just in
season."
"But why?"
"For he has acted here in Tartar fashion and taken a lady captive.
There are as many lawsuits and questions hanging over him as he has
hairs on his head. It is not a week since I had a sabre-duel with him."
"Ai!" cried Kharlamp. "If you had a sabre-duel with him, he is in bed
at this moment."
"But he is better already. In a week or two he will be well. What is to
be heard _de publicis_?"
"Evil in the old fashion. The under-treasurer, Pan Gosyevski, the full
hetman, is ever quarrelling with the prince; and as the hetmans do not
agree, affairs do not move in harmony. Still we have improved a little,
and I think that if we had concord we might manage the enemy. God will
permit us yet to ride on their necks to their own land. Gosyevski is to
blame for all."
"But others say it is specially the grand hetman, Prince Radzivill."
"They are traitors. The voevoda of Vityebsk talks that way, for he and
the under-treasurer are cronies this long time."
"The voevoda of Vityebsk is a worthy citizen."
"Are you on the side of Sapyeha against the Radzivills?"
"I am on the side of the country, on whose side all should be. In this
is the evil,--that even soldiers are divided into parties, instead of
fighting. That Sapyeha is a worthy citizen, I would say in the presence
of the prince himself, even though I serve under him."
"Good people have striven to bring about harmony, but with no result,"
said Kharlamp. "There is a terrible movement of messengers from the
king to our prince. They say that something is hatching. We expected
with the visit of the king a call of the general militia; it has not
come! They say that it may be necessary in some places."
"In the Ukraine, for instance."
"I know. But once Lieutenant Brohvich told what he heard with his own
ears. Tyzenhauz came from the king to our hetman, and when they had
shut themselves in they talked a long time about something which
Brohvich could not overhear; but when they came out, with his own ears
he heard the hetman say, 'From this a new war may come.' We racked our
heads greatly to find what this could mean."
"Surely he was mistaken. With whom could there be a new war? The
emperor is more friendly to us now than to our enemies, since it is
proper for him to take the side of a civilized people. With the Swedes
the truce is not yet at an end, and will not be for six years; the
Tartars are helping us in the Ukraine, which they would not do without
the will of Turkey."
"Well, we could not get at anything."
"For there was nothing. But, praise God, I have fresh work; I began to
yearn for war."
"Do you wish to carry the commission yourself to Kmita?"
"I do, because, as I have told you, the hetman has so ordered. It is
proper for me to visit Kmita now according to knightly custom, and
having the commission I shall have a still better chance to talk with
him. Whether I give the commission is another thing; I think that I
shall, for it is left to my discretion."
"That suits me; I am in such haste for the road. I have a third
commission to Pan Stankyevich. Next I am commanded to go to Kyedani, to
remove the cannon which are there; then to inspect Birji and see if
everything is ready for defence."
"And to Birji too?"
"Yes."
"That is a wonder to me. The enemy have won no new victories, and it is
far for them to go to Birji on the boundary of Courland. And since, as
I see, new squadrons are being formed, there will be men to defend even
those parts which have fallen under the power of the enemy. The
Courlanders do not think of war with us. They are good soldiers, but
few; and Radzivill might put the breath out of them with one hand."
"I wonder too," answered Kharlamp, "all the more that haste is enjoined
on me, and instructions given that if I find anything out of order I am
to inform quickly Prince Boguslav Radzivill, who is to send Peterson
the engineer."
"What can this mean? I hope 'tis no question of domestic war. May God
preserve us from that! But when Prince Boguslav touches an affair the
devil will come of the amusement."
"Say nothing against him; he is a valiant man."
"I say nothing against his valor, but there is more of the German or
Frenchman in him than the Pole. And of the Commonwealth he never
thinks; his only thought is how to raise the house of Radzivill to the
highest point and lower all others. He is the man who rouses pride in
the voevoda of Vilna, our hetman, who of himself has no lack of it; and
those quarrels with Sapyeha and Gosyevski are the tree and the fruit of
Prince Boguslav's planting."
"I see that you are a great statesman. You should marry, Michael dear,
as soon as possible, so that such wisdom is not lost."
Volodyovski looked very attentively at his comrade. "Marry,--why is
that?"
"Maybe you are going courting, for I see that you are dressed as on
parade."
"Give us peace!"
"Oh, own up!"
"Let each man eat his own melons, not inquire about those of other men.
You too have eaten more than one. It is just the time now to think of
marriage when we have a levy on our hands!"
"Will you be ready in July?"
"At the end of July, even if I have to dig horses out of the ground.
Thank God that this task has come, or melancholy would have devoured
me."
So tidings from the hetman and the prospect of heavy work gave great
consolation to Pan Michael; and before he reached Patsuneli, he had
scarcely a thought of the rebuff which had met him an hour before. News
of the commission flew quickly through the whole village. The nobles
came straightway to inquire if the news was true; and when Volodyovski
confirmed it, his words made a great impression. The readiness was
universal, though some were troubled because they would have to march
at the end of July before harvest. Volodyovski sent messengers to other
neighborhoods,--to Upita, and to the most considerable noble houses. In
the evening a number of Butryms, Stakyans, and Domasheviches came.
They began to incite one another, show greater readiness, threaten the
enemy, and promise victory to themselves. The Butryms alone were
silent; but that was not taken ill, for it was known that they would
rise as one man. Next day it was as noisy in all the villages as in
bee-hives. People talked no more of Pan Kmita and Panna Aleksandra, but
of the future campaign. Volodyovski also forgave Olenka sincerely the
refusal, comforting himself meanwhile in his heart that that was not
the last one, as the love was not the last. At the same time he
pondered somewhat on what he had to do with the letter to Kmita.