Kovno, and the whole region on the left bank of the Vilia, with all the
roads, were occupied by the enemy (the Russians); therefore Kmita, not
being able to go to Podlyasye by the high-road leading from Kovno to
Grodno and thence to Byalystok, went by side-roads from Kyedani
straight down the course of the Nyevyaja to the Nyemen, which he
crossed near Vilkovo, and found himself in the province of Trotsk.
All that part of the road, which was not over great, he passed in
quiet, for that region lay as it were under the hand of Radzivill.
Towns, and here and there even villages, were occupied by castle
squadrons of the hetman, or by small detachments of Swedish cavalry
which the hetman pushed forward thus far of purpose against the legions
of Zolotarenko, which stood there beyond the Vilia, so that occasions
for collisions and war might be more easily found.
Zolotarenko would have been glad too to have an "uproar" with the
Swedes, according to the words of the hetman; but those whose ally he
was did not wish war with them, or in every case wished to put it off
as long as possible. Zolotarenko therefore received the strictest
orders not to cross the river, and in case that Radzivill himself,
together with the Swedes, moved on him, to retreat with all haste.
For these reasons the country on the right side of the Vilia was quiet;
but since from one side Cossack pickets, from the other those of the
Swedes and Radzivill were looking at one another, one musket-shot might
at any moment let loose a terrible war.
In prevision of this, people took timely refuge in safe places.
Therefore the whole country was quiet, but empty. Pan Andrei saw
deserted towns, everywhere the windows of houses held up by sticks, and
whole villages depopulated. The fields were also empty, for there was
no crop that year. Common people secreted themselves in fathomless
forests, to which they drove all their cattle; but the nobles fled to
neighboring Electoral Prussia, at that time altogether safe from war.
For this reason there was an uncommon movement over the roads and
trails of the wilderness, and the number of fugitives was still more
increased by those who from the left bank of the Vilia were able to
escape the oppression of Zolotarenko.
The number of these was enormous, and especially of peasants; for the
nobles who had not been able hitherto to flee from the left bank went
into captivity or yielded their lives on their thresholds.
Pan Andrei, therefore, met every moment whole crowds of peasants with
their wives and children, and driving before them flocks of sheep with
horses and cattle. That part of the province of Trotsk touching upon
Electoral Prussia was wealthy and productive; therefore the well-to-do
people had something to save and guard. The approaching winter did not
alarm fugitives, who preferred to await better days amid mosses of the
forest, in snow covered huts, than to await death in their native
villages at the hands of the enemy.
Kmita often approached the fleeing crowds, or fires gleaming at night
in dense forest places. Wherever he met people from the left bank of
the Vilia, from near Kovno, or from still remoter neighborhoods, he
heard terrible tales of the cruelties of Zolotarenko and his allies,
who exterminated people without regard to age or sex; they burned
villages, cut down even trees in the gardens, leaving only land and
water. Never had Tartar raids left such desolation behind.
Not death alone was inflicted on the inhabitants, but before death they
were put to the most ingenious tortures. Many of those people fled with
bewildered minds. These filled the forest depths at night with awful
shrieks; others were ever in a species of continual fear and
expectation of attack, though they had crossed the Nyemen and Vilia,
though forests and morasses separated them from Zolotarenko's bands.
Many of these stretched their hands to Kmita and his horsemen of Orsha,
imploring rescue and pity, as if the enemy were standing there over
them.
Carriages belonging to nobles were moving toward Prussia; in them old
men, women, and children; behind them, dragged on wagons with servants,
effects, supplies of provisions, and other things. All these fleeing
people were panic-stricken, terrified and grieved because they were
going into exile.
Pan Andrei comforted these unfortunates at times by telling them that
the Swedes would soon pass over and drive that enemy far away. Then the
fugitives stretched their hands to heaven and said,--
"God give health, God give fortune to the prince voevoda! When the
Swedes come we will return to our homes, to our burned dwellings."
And they blessed the prince everywhere. From mouth to mouth news was
given that at any moment he might cross the Vilia at the head of his
own and Swedish troops. Besides, they praised the "modesty" of the
Swedes, their discipline, and good treatment of the inhabitants.
Radzivill was called the Gideon of Lithuania, a Samson, a savior. These
people from districts steaming with fresh blood and fire were looking
for him as for deliverance.
And Kmita, hearing those blessings, those wishes, those almost prayers,
was strengthened in his faith concerning Radzivill, and repeated in his
soul,--
"I serve such a lord! I will shut my eyes and follow blindly his
fortune. At times he is terrible and beyond knowing; but he has a
greater mind than others, he knows better what is needed, and in him
alone is salvation."
It became lighter and calmer in his breast at this thought; he advanced
therefore with greater solace in his heart, dividing his soul between
sorrow for Kyedani and thoughts on the unhappy condition of the
country.
His sorrow increased continually. He did not throw the red ribbon
behind him, he did not put out the fire with water; for he felt, first,
that it was useless, and then he did not wish to do so.
"Oh that she were present, that she could hear the wailing and groans
of people, she would not beg God to turn me away, she would not tell me
that I err, like those heretics who have left the true faith. But never
mind! Earlier or later she will be convinced, she will see that her own
judgment was at fault. And then what God will give will be. Maybe we
shall meet again in life."
And yearning increased in the young cavalier; but the conviction that
he was marching by the right, not by the wrong road, gave him a peace
long since unknown. The conflict of thought, the gnawing, the doubts
left him by degrees, and he rode forward; he sank in the shoreless
forest almost with gladness. From the time that he had come to Lyubich,
after his famous raids on Hovanski, he had not felt so vivacious.
Kharlamp was right in this, that there is no cure like the road for
cares and troubles. Pan Andrei had iron health; his daring and love of
adventures were coming back every hour. He saw these adventures before
him, smiled at them, and urged on his convoy unceasingly, barely
stopping for short night-rests.
Olenka stood ever before the eyes of his spirit, tearful, trembling in
his arms like a bird, and he said to himself, "I shall return."
At times the form of the hetman passed before him, gloomy, immense,
terrible. But it may be just because he was moving away more and more,
that that form became almost dear to him. Hitherto he had bent before
Radzivill; now he began to love him. Hitherto Radzivill had borne him
along as a mighty whirlpool of water seizes and attracts everything
that comes within its circle; now Kmita felt that he wished with his
whole soul to go with him.
And in the distance that gigantic voevoda increased continually in the
eyes of the young knight, and assumed almost superhuman proportions.
More than once, at his night halt, when Pan Andrei had closed his eyes
in sleep, he saw the hetman sitting on a throne loftier than the tops
of the pine-trees. There was a crown on his head; his face was the
same, gloomy, enormous; in his hand a sword and a sceptre, at his feet
the whole Commonwealth. And in his soul Kmita did homage to greatness.
On the third day of the journey they left the Nyemen far behind, and
entered a country of still greater forests. They met whole crowds of
fugitives on the roads; but nobles unable to bear arms were going
almost without exception to Prussia before the bands of the enemy, who,
not held in curb there, as on the banks of the Vilia, by the regiments
of Sweden and Radzivill, pushed at times far into the heart of the
country, even to the boundary of Electoral Prussia. Their main object
was plunder.
Frequently these were detachments as if from the army of Zolotarenko,
but really recognizing no authority,--simply robber companies, so
called "parties" commanded at times even by local bandits. Avoiding
engagements in the field with troops and even with townspeople, they
attacked small villages, single houses, and travellers.
The nobles on their own account attacked these parties with their
household servants, and ornamented with them the pine-trees along the
roads; still it was easy in the forest to stumble upon their frequent
bands, and therefore Pan Andrei was forced to exercise uncommon care.
But somewhat beyond Pilvishki on the Sheshupa, Kmita found the
population living quietly in their homes. The townspeople told him,
however, that not longer than a couple of days before, a strong band of
Zolotarenko's men, numbering as many as five hundred, had made an
attack, and would, according to their custom, have cut down all the
people, and let the place rise in smoke, were it not for unexpected aid
which fell as it were from heaven.
"We had already committed ourselves to God," said the master of the inn
in which Pan Andrei had taken lodgings, "when the saints of the Lord
sent some squadrons. We thought at first that a new enemy had come, but
they were ours. They sprang at once on Zolotarenko's ruffians, and in
an hour they laid them out like a pavement, all the more easily as we
helped them."
"What kind of a squadron was it?" asked Kmita.
"God give them health! They did not say who they were, and we did not
dare to ask. They fed their horses, took what hay and bread there was,
and rode away."
"But whence did they come, and whither did they go?"
"They came from Kozlova Ruda, and they went to the south. We, who
before that wished to flee to the woods, thought the matter over and
stayed here, for the under-starosta said that after such a lesson the
enemy would not look in on us again soon."
The news of the battle interested Kmita greatly, therefore he asked
further: "And do you not know who commanded that squadron?"
"We do not know; but we saw the colonel, for he talked with us on the
square, he is young, and sharp as a needle. He does not look like the
warrior that he is."
"Volodyovski!" cried Kmita.
"Whether he is Volodyovski, or not, may his hands be holy, may God make
him hetman!"
Pan Andrei fell into deep thought. Evidently he was going by the same
road over which a few days before Volodyovski had marched with the
Lauda men. In fact, that was natural, for both were going to Podlyasye.
But it occurred to Pan Andrei that if he hastened he might easily meet
the little knight and be captured; in that case, all the letters of
Radzivill would fall with him into possession of the confederates. Such
an event might destroy his mission, and bring God knows what harm to
the cause of Radzivill. For this reason Pan Andrei determined to stay a
couple of days in Pilvishki, so that the squadron of Lauda might have
time to advance as far as possible.
The men, as well as the horses, travelling almost with one sweep from
Kyedani (for only short halts had been given on the road hitherto),
needed rest; therefore Kmita ordered the soldiers to remove the packs
from the horses and settle themselves comfortably in the inn.
Next day he was convinced that he had acted not only cleverly but
wisely, for scarcely had he dressed in the morning, when his host stood
before him.
"I bring news to your grace," said he.
"It is good?"
"Neither good nor bad, but that we have guests. An enormous court
arrived here to-day, and stopped at the starosta's house. There is a
regiment of infantry, and what crowds of cavalry and carriages with
servants!--The people thought that the king himself had come."
"What king?"
The innkeeper began to turn his cap in his hand. "It is true that we
have two kings now, but neither one came,--only the prince marshal."
Kmita sprang to his feet. "What prince marshal? Prince Boguslav?"
"Yes, your grace; the cousin of the prince voevoda of Vilna."
Pan Andrei clapped his hands from astonishment. "And so we have met."
The innkeeper, understanding that his guest was an acquaintance of
Prince Boguslav, made a lower bow than the day before, and went out of
the room; but Kmita began to dress in haste, and an hour later was
before the house of the starosta.
The whole place was swarming with soldiers. The infantry were stacking
their muskets on the square; the cavalry had dismounted and occupied
the houses at the side. The soldiers and attendants in the most varied
costumes had halted before the houses, or were walking along the
streets. From the mouths of the officers were to be heard French and
German. Nowhere a Polish soldier, nowhere a Polish uniform; the
musketeers and dragoons were dressed in strange fashion, different,
indeed, from the foreign squadrons which Pan Andrei had seen in
Kyedani, for they were not in German but in French style. The soldiers,
handsome men and so showy that each one in the ranks might be taken for
an officer, delighted the eyes of Pan Andrei. The officers looked on
him also with curiosity, for he had arrayed himself richly in velvet
and brocade, and six men, dressed in new uniforms, followed him as a
suite.
Attendants, all dressed in French fashion, were hurrying about in
front of the starosta's house; there were pages in caps and feathers,
armor-bearers in velvet kaftans, and equerries in Swedish, high,
wide-legged boots.
Evidently the prince did not intend to tarry long in Pilvishki, and had
stopped only for refreshment, for the carriages were not taken to the
shed; and the equerries, in waiting, were feeding horses out of tin
sieves which they held in their hands.
Kmita announced to an officer on guard before the house who he was and
what was his mission; the officer went to inform the prince. After a
while he returned hastily, to say that the prince was anxious to see a
man sent from the hetman; and showing Kmita the way, he entered the
house with him.
After they had passed the antechamber, they found in the dining-hall a
number of attendants, with legs stretched out, slumbering sweetly in
arm-chairs; it was evident that they must have started early in the
morning from the last halting-place: The officer stopped before the
door of the next room, and bowing to Pan Andrei, said,--
"The prince is there."
Pan Andrei entered and stopped at the threshold. The prince was sitting
before a mirror fixed in the corner of the room, and was looking so
intently at his own face, apparently just touched with rouge and white,
that he did not turn attention to the incomer. Two chamber servants,
kneeling before him, were fastening buckles at the ankles on his high
travelling-boots, while he was arranging slowly with his fingers the
luxuriant, evenly cut forelock of his bright gold-colored wig, or it
might be of his own abundant hair.
He was still a young man, of thirty-five years, but seemed not more
than five and twenty. Kmita knew the prince, but looked on him always
with curiosity: first, because of the great knightly fame which
surrounded him, and which was won mainly through duels fought
with various foreign magnates; second, by reason of his peculiar
figure,--whoso saw his form once was forced to remember it ever after.
The prince was tall and powerfully built, but on his broad shoulders
stood a head as diminutive as if taken from another body. His face,
also, was uncommonly small, almost childlike; but in it, too, there was
no proportion, for he had a great Roman nose and enormous eyes of
unspeakable beauty and brightness, with a real eagle boldness of
glance. In presence of those eyes and the nose, the rest of his face,
surrounded, moreover, with plentiful tresses of hair, disappeared
almost completely; his mouth was almost that of a child; above it was a
slight mustache barely covering his upper lip. The delicacy of his
complexion, heightened by rouge and white paint, made him almost
like a young lady; and at the same time the insolence, pride, and
self-confidence depicted in that face permitted no one to forget that
he was that _chercheur de noises_ (seeker of quarrels), as he was
nicknamed at the French court,--a man out of whose mouth a sharp word
came with ease, but whose sword came from its scabbard with still
greater ease.
In Germany, in Holland, in France, they related marvels of his military
deeds, of his disputes, quarrels, adventures, and duels. He was the man
who in Holland rushed into the thickest whirl of battle, among the
incomparable regiments of Spanish infantry, and with his own princely
hand captured a flag and a cannon; he, at the head of the regiments of
the Prince of Orange, captured batteries declared by old leaders to be
beyond capture; he, on the Rhine, at the head of French musketeers,
shattered the heavy squadrons of Germany, trained in the Thirty Years'
War; he wounded, in a duel in France, the most celebrated fencer among
French knights, Prince de Fremouille; another famous fighter, Baron Von
Goetz, begged of him life, on his knees; he wounded Baron Grot, for
which he had to hear bitter reproaches from his cousin Yanush, because
he was lowering his dignity as prince by fighting with men beneath him
in rank; finally, in presence of the whole French court, at a ball in
the Louvre, he slapped Marquis de Rieux on the face, because he had
spoken to him "unbecomingly." The duels that he had fought incognito in
smaller towns, in taverns and inns, did not enter into reckoning.
He was a mixture of effeminacy and unbounded daring. During rare and
short visits to his native land he amused himself by quarrels with the
Sapyehas, and with hunting; but on those occasions the hunters had to
find for him she-bears with their young, as being dangerous and
enraged; against these he went armed only with a spear.
But it was tedious for him in his own country, to which he came, as was
said, unwillingly, most frequently in time of war; he distinguished
himself by great victories at Berestechko, Mogilyoff, and Smolensk. War
was his element, though he had a mind quick and subtle, equally fitted
for intrigues and diplomatic exploits. In these he knew how to be
patient and enduring, far more enduring than in the "loves," of which a
whole series completed the history of his life. The prince, at the
courts where he had resided, was the terror of husbands who had
beautiful wives. For that reason, doubtless, he was not yet married,
though his high birth and almost inexhaustible fortune made him one of
the most desirable matches in Europe. The King and Queen of France,
Marya Ludvika of Poland, the Prince of Orange, and his uncle, the
Elector of Brandenburg, tried to make matches for him; but so far he
preferred his freedom.
"I do not want a dower," said he, cynically; "and of the other
pleasures I have no lack as I am."
In this fashion he reached the thirty-fifth year of his age.
Kmita, standing on the threshold, examined with curiosity Boguslav's
face, which the mirror reflected, while he was arranging with
seriousness the hair of his forelock; at last, when Pan Andrei coughed
once and a second time, he said, without turning his head,--
"But who is present? Is it a messenger from the prince voevoda?"
"Not a messenger, but from the prince voevoda," replied Pan Andrei.
Then the prince turned his head, and seeing a brilliant young man,
recognized that he had not to do with an ordinary servant.
"Pardon, Cavalier," said he, affably, "for I see that I was mistaken in
the office of the person. But your face is known to me, though I am not
able to recall your name. You are an attendant of the prince hetman?"
"My name is Kmita," answered Pan Andrei, "and I am not an attendant; I
am a colonel from the time that I brought my own squadron to the prince
hetman."
"Kmita!" cried the prince, "that same Kmita, famous in the last war,
who harried Hovanski, and later on managed not worse on his own
account? I have heard much about you."
Having said this, the prince began to look more carefully and with a
certain pleasure at Pan Andrei, for from what he had heard he thought
him a man of his own cut.
"Sit down," said he, "I am glad to know you more intimately. And what
is to be heard in Kyedani?"
"Here is a letter from the prince hetman," answered Kmita.
The servants, having finished buckling the prince's boots, went out.
The prince broke the seal and began to read. After a while there was an
expression of weariness and dissatisfaction on his face. He threw the
letter under the mirror and said,--
"Nothing new! The prince voevoda advises me to go to Prussia, to Tyltsa
or to Taurogi, which, as you see, I am just doing. _Ma foi_, I do not
understand my cousin. He reports to me that the elector is in
Brandenburg, and that he cannot make his way to Prussia through the
Swedes, and he writes at the same time that the hairs are standing on
his head because I do not communicate with him, either for health or
prescription; and how can I? If the elector cannot make his way through
the Swedes, how can my messenger do so? I am in Podlyasye, for I have
nothing else to do. I tell you, my cavalier, that I am as much bored as
the devil doing penance. I have speared all the bears near Tykotsin;
the fair heads of that region have the odor of sheepskin, which my
nostrils cannot endure. But-- Do you understand French or German?"
"I understand German," answered Kmita.
"Praise be to God for that! I will speak German, for my lips fly off
from your language."
When he had said this the prince put out his lower lip and touched it
with his fingers, as if wishing to be sure that it had not gone off:
then he looked at the mirror and continued,--
"Report has come to me that in the neighborhood of Lukovo one
Skshetuski, a noble, has a wife of wonderful beauty. It is far from
here; but I sent men to carry her off and bring her. Now, if you will
believe it, Pan Kmita, they did not find her at home."
"That was good luck," said Pan Andrei, "for she is the wife of an
honorable cavalier, a celebrated man, who made his way out of Zbaraj
through the whole power of Hmelnitski."
"The husband was besieged in Zbaraj, and I would have besieged the wife
in Tykotsin. Do you think she would have held out as stubbornly as her
husband?"
"Your highness, for such a siege a counsel of war is not needed, let it
pass without my opinion," answered Pan Andrei, brusquely.
"True, loss of time!" said the prince. "Let us return to business. Have
you any letters yet?"
"What I had to your highness I have delivered; besides those I have one
to the King of Sweden. Is it known to your highness where I must seek
him?"
"I know nothing. What can I know? He is not in Tykotsin; I can assure
you of that, for if he had once seen that place he would have resigned
his dominion over the whole Commonwealth. Warsaw is now in Swedish
hands, but you will not find the king there. He must be before Cracow,
or in Cracow itself, if he has not gone to Royal Prussia by this time.
To my thinking Karl Gustav must keep the Prussian towns in mind, for he
cannot leave them in his rear. Who would have expected, when the whole
Commonwealth abandons its king, when all the nobles join the Swedes,
when the provinces yield one after the other, that just then towns,
German and Protestant, would not hear of the Swedes but prepare for
resistance? They wish to save the Commonwealth and adhere to Yan
Kazimir. In beginning our work we thought that it would be otherwise:
that before all they would help us and the Swedes to cut that loaf
which you call your Commonwealth; but now they won't move! The luck is
that the elector has his eye on them. He has offered them forces
already against the Swedes; but the Dantzig people do not trust him,
and say that they have forces enough of their own."
"We knew that already in Kyedani," said Kmita.
"If they have not forces enough, in every case they have a good sniff,"
continued the prince, laughing; "for the elector cares as much, I
think, about the Commonwealth as I do, or as the prince voevoda of
Vilna does."
"Your highness, permit me to deny that," said Kmita, abruptly. "The
prince cares that much about the Commonwealth that he is ready at every
moment to give his last breath and spill his last blood for it."
Prince Boguslav began to laugh.
"You are young, Cavalier, young! But enough! My uncle the elector wants
to grab Royal Prussia, and for that reason only, he offers his aid. If
he has the towns once in hand, if he has his garrisons in them, he will
be ready to agree with the Swedes next day, nay, even with the Turks or
with devils. Let the Swedes add a bit of Great Poland, he will be ready
to help them with all his power to take the rest. The only trouble is
in this, that the Swedes are sharpening their teeth against Prussia,
and hence the distrust between them and the elector."
"I hear with astonishment the words of your highness," said Kmita.
"The devils were taking me in Podlyasye," answered the prince,--"I had
to stay there so long in idleness. But what was I to do? An agreement
was made between me and the prince voevoda, that until affairs were
cleared up in Prussia, I was not to take the Swedish side publicly. And
that was right, for thus a gate remains open. I sent even secret
couriers to Yan Kazimir, announcing that I was ready to summon the
general militia in Podlyasye if a manifesto were sent me. The king, as
king, might have let himself be tricked; but the queen it is clear does
not trust me, and must have advised against it. If it were not for that
woman, I should be to-day at the head of all the nobles of Podlyasye;
and what is more, those confederates who are now ravaging the property
of Prince Yanush would have no choice but to come under my orders. I
should have declared myself a partisan of Yan Kazimir, but, in fact,
having power in my hand, would treat with the Swedes. But that woman
knows how grass grows, and guesses the most secret thought. She is the
real king, not queen! She has more wit in one finger than Yan Kazimir
in his whole body."
"The prince voevoda--" began Kmita.
"The prince voevoda," interrupted Boguslav, with impatience, "is
eternally late with his counsel; he writes to me in every letter, 'Do
this and do that,' while I have in fact done it long before. Besides,
the prince voevoda loses his head. For listen what he asks of me."
Here the prince took up the letter and began to read aloud,--
"Be cautious yourself on the road; and those rascals, the confederates,
who have mutinied against me and are ravaging Podlyasye, for God's sake
think how to disperse them, lest they go to the king. They are
preparing to visit Zabludovo, and beer in that place is strong; when
they get drunk, let them be cut off,--each host may finish his guest.
Nothing better is needed; for when the heads are removed, the rest will
scatter--"
Boguslav threw the letter with vexation on the table.
"Listen, Pan Kmita," said he, "you see I have to go to Prussia and at
the same time arrange a slaughter in Zabludovo. I must feign myself a
partisan of Yan Kazimir and a patriot, and at the same time cut off
those people who are unwilling to betray the king and the country. Is
that sense? Does one hang to the other? _Ma foi_, the prince is losing
his head. I have met now, while coming to Pilvishki, a whole insurgent
squadron travelling along through Podlyasye. I should have galloped
over their stomachs with gladness, even to gain some amusement; but
before I am an open partisan of the Swedes, while my uncle the elector
holds formally with the Prussian towns, and with Yan Kazimir too, I
cannot permit myself such pleasure, God knows I cannot. What could I do
more than to be polite to those insurgents, as they are polite to me,
suspecting me of an understanding with the hetman, but not having black
on white?"
Here the prince lay back comfortably in the armchair, stretched out his
legs, and putting his hands behind his head carelessly, began to
repeat,--
"Ah, there is nonsense in this Commonwealth, nonsense! In the world
there is nothing like it!"
Then he was silent for a moment; evidently some idea came to his head,
for he struck his wig and inquired,--
"But will you not be in Podlyasye?"
"Yes," said Kmita, "I must be there, for I have a letter with
instructions to Harasimovich, the under-starosta in Zabludovo."
"In God's name!" exclaimed the prince, "Harasimovich is here with me.
He is going with the hetman's effects to Prussia, for we were afraid
that they might fall into the hands of the confederates. Wait, I will
have him summoned."
Here the prince summoned a servant and ordered him to call the
under-starosta.
"This has happened well," said the prince, "You will save yourself a
journey,--though it may be too bad that you will not visit Podlyasye,
for among the heads of the confederacy there is a namesake of yours
whom you might secure."
"I have no time for that," said Kmita, "since I am in a hurry to go to
the king and Pan Lyubomirski."
"Ah, you have a letter to the marshal of the kingdom? Well, I can
divine the reason of it. Once the marshal thought of marrying his son
to Yanush's daughter. Did not the hetman wish this time to renew
negotiations delicately?"
"That is just the mission."
"Both are quite children. H'm! that's a delicate mission, for it does
not become the hetman to speak first. Besides--"
Here the prince frowned.
"Nothing will come of it. The daughter of the hetman is not for
Heraclius, I tell you that! The prince hetman must understand that his
fortune is to remain in possession of the Radzivills."
Kmita looked with astonishment on the prince, who was walking with
quicker and quicker pace through the room.
All at once he stopped before Pan Andrei, and said, "Give me the word
of a cavalier that you will answer truly my question."
"Gracious prince," said Kmita, "only those lie who are afraid, and I
fear no man."
"Did the prince voevoda give orders to keep secret from me the
negotiations with Lyubomirski?"
"Had I such a command, I should not have mentioned Lyubomirski."
"It might have slipped you. Give me your word."
"I give it," said Kmita, frowning.
"You have taken a weight from my heart, for I thought that the voevoda
was playing a double game with me."
"I do not understand, your highness."
"I would not marry, in France, Rohan, not counting half threescore
other princesses whom they were giving me. Do you know why?"
"I do not."
"There is an agreement between me and the prince voevoda that his
daughter and his fortune are growing up for me. As a faithful servant
of the Radzivills, you may know everything."
"Thank you for the confidence. But your highness is mistaken. I am not
a servant of the Radzivills."
Boguslav opened his eyes widely. "What are you?"
"I am a colonel of the hetman, not of the castle; and besides I am the
hetman's relative."
"A relative?"
"I am related to the Kishkis, and the hetman is born of a Kishki."
Prince Boguslav looked for a while at Kmita, on whose face a light
flush appeared. All at once he stretched forth his hands and said,--
"I beg your pardon, cousin, and I am glad of the relationship."
The last words were uttered with a certain inattentive though showy
politeness, in which there was something directly painful to Pan
Andrei. His face flushed still more, and he was opening his mouth to
say something hasty, when the door opened and Harasimovich appeared on
the threshold.
"There is a letter for you," said Boguslav.
Harasimovich bowed to the prince, and then to Pan Andrei, who gave him
the letter.
"Read it!" said Prince Boguslav.
Harasimovich began to read,--
"Pan Harasimovich! Now is the time to show the good will of a faithful
servant to his lord. As whatever money you are able to collect, you in
Zabludovo and Pan Pjinski in Orel--"
"The confederates have slain Pan Pjinski in Orel, for which reason Pan
Harasimovich has taken to his heels," interrupted the prince.
The under-starosta bowed and read further,--
"--and Pan Pjinski in Orel, even the public revenue, even the excise,
rent--"
"The confederates have already taken them," interrupted Boguslav again.
"--send me at once," continued Harasimovich. "If you can mortgage some
villages to neighbors or townspeople, obtaining as much money on them
as possible, do so, and whatever means there may be of obtaining money,
do your best in the matter, and send the money to me. Send horses and
whatever effects there are in Orel. There is a great candlestick too,
and other things,--pictures, ornaments, and especially the cannons on
the porch at my cousins; for robbers may be feared--"
"Again counsel too late, for these cannons are going with me," said the
prince.
"If they are heavy with the stocks, then take them without the stocks
and cover them, so it may not be known that you are bringing them. And
take these things to Prussia with all speed, avoiding with utmost care
those traitors who have caused mutiny in my army and are ravaging my
estates--"
"As to ravaging, they are ravaging! They are pounding them into dough,"
interrupted the prince anew.
"--ravaging my estates, and are preparing to move against Zabludovo on
their way perhaps to the king. With them it is difficult to fight, for
they are many; but if they are admitted, and given plenty to drink, and
killed in the night while asleep (every host can do that), or poisoned
in strong beer, or (which is not difficult in that place) a wild crowd
let in to plunder them--"
"Well, that is nothing new!" said Prince Boguslav. "You may journey
with me, Pan Harasimovich."
"There is still a supplement," said the under-starosta. And he read on,
"The wines, if you cannot bring them away (for with us such can be had
nowhere), sell them quickly--"
Here Harasimovich stopped and seized himself by the head,--
"For God's sake! those wines are coming half a day's road behind us,
and surely have fallen into the hands of that insurgent squadron which
was hovering around us. There will be a loss of some thousands of gold
pieces. Let your highness give witness with me that you commanded me to
wait till the barrels were packed in the wagons."
Harasimovich's terror would have been still greater had he known Pan
Zagloba, and had he known that he was in that very squadron. Meanwhile
Prince Boguslav smiled and said,--
"Oh, let the wines be to their health! Read on!"
"--if a merchant cannot be found--"
Prince Boguslav now held his sides from laughter. "He has been found,"
said he, "but you must sell to him on credit."
"--but if a merchant cannot be found," read Harasimovich, in a
complaining voice, "bury it in the ground secretly, so that more than
two should not know where it is; but leave a keg in Orel and one in
Zabludovo, and those of the best and sweetest, so that the officers may
take a liking to it; and put in plenty of poison, so that the officers
at least may be killed, then the squadron will break up. For God's
sake, serve me faithfully in this, and secretly, for the mercy of God.
Burn what I write, and whoso finds out anything send him to me. Either
the confederates will find and drink the wine, or it may be given as a
present to make them friendly."
The under-starosta finished reading, and looked at Prince Boguslav, as
if waiting for instructions; and the prince said,--
"I see that my cousin pays much attention to the confederates; it is
only a pity that, as usual, he is too late. If he had come upon this
plan two weeks ago, or even one week, it might have been tried. But now
go with God, Pan Harasimovich; I do not need you."
Harasimovich bowed and went out.
Prince Boguslav stood before the mirror, and began to examine his own
figure carefully; he moved his head slightly from right to left, then
stepped back from the mirror, then approached it, then shook his curls,
then looked askance, not paying any attention to Kmita, who sat in the
shade with his back turned to the window.
But if he had cast even one look at Pan Andrei's face he would have
seen that in the young envoy something wonderful was taking place; for
Kmita's face was pale, on his forehead stood thick drops of sweat, and
his hands shook convulsively. After a while he rose from the chair, but
sat down again immediately, like a man struggling with himself and
suppressing an outburst of anger or despair. Finally his features
settled and became fixed; evidently he had with his whole strong
force of will and energy enjoined calm on himself and gained complete
self-control.
"Your highness," said he, "from the confidence which the prince hetman
bestows on me you see that he does not wish to make a secret of
anything. I belong soul and substance to his work; with him and your
highness my fortune may increase; therefore, whither you both go,
thither go I also. I am ready for everything. But though I serve in
those affairs and am occupied in them, still I do not of course
understand everything perfectly, nor can I penetrate all the secrets of
them with my weak wit."
"What do you wish then, Sir Cavalier, or rather, fair cousin?"
"I ask instruction, your highness; it would be a shame indeed were I
unable to learn at the side of such statesmen. I know not whether your
highness will be pleased to answer me without reserve--"
"That will depend on your question and on my humor," answered Boguslav,
not ceasing to look at the mirror.
Kmita's eyes glittered for a moment, but he continued calmly,--
"This is my question: The prince voevoda of Vilna shields all his acts
with the good and salvation of the Commonwealth, so that in fact the
Commonwealth is never absent from his lips; be pleased to tell me
sincerely, are these mere pretexts, or has the hetman in truth nothing
but the good of the Commonwealth in view?"
Boguslav cast a quick glance on Pan Andrei. "If I should say that they
are pretexts, would you give further service?"
Kmita shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Of course! As I have said, my
fortune will increase with the fortune of your highness and that of the
hetman. If that increase comes, the rest is all one to me."
"You will be a man! Remember that I foretell this. But why has my
cousin not spoken openly with you?"
"Maybe because he is squeamish, or just because it did not happen to be
the topic."
"You have quick wit, Cousin Cavalier, for it is the real truth that he
is squeamish and shows his true skin unwillingly. As God is dear to me,
true! Such is his nature. So, even in talking with me, the moment he
forgets himself he begins to adorn his speech with love for the
country. When I laugh at him to his eyes, he comes to his senses. True!
true!"
"Then it is merely a pretext?" asked Kmita.
The prince turned the chair around and sat astride of it, as on a
horse, and resting his arms on the back of it was silent awhile, as if
in thought; then he said,--
"Hear me, Pan Kmita. If we Radzivills lived in Spain, France, or
Sweden, where the son inherits after the father, and where the right of
the king comes from God himself, then, leaving aside civil war,
extinction of the royal stock, or some uncommon event, we should serve
the king and the country firmly, being content with the highest offices
which belong to us by family and fortune. But here, in the land where
the king has not divine right at his back, but the nobles create
him, where everything is in free suffrage, we ask ourselves with
reason,--Why should a Vaza rule, and not a Radzivill? There is no
objection so far as the Vazas are concerned, for they take their origin
from hereditary kings; but who will assure us, who will guarantee that
after the Vazas the nobles will not have the whim of seating on the
throne of the kingdom and on the throne of the Grand Principality even
Pan Harasimovich, or some Pan Myeleshko, or some Pan Pyeglasyevich from
Psivolki? Tfu! can I guess whom they may fancy? And must we,
Radzivills, and princes of the German Empire, come to kiss the hand of
King Pyeglasyevich? Tfu! to all the horned devils, Cavalier, it is time
to finish with this! Look meanwhile at Germany,--how many provincial
princes there, who in importance and fortune are fitted to be
under-starostas for us. Still they have their principalities, they
rule, wear crowns on their heads, and take precedence of us, though it
would be fitter for them to bear the trains of our mantles. It is time
to put an end to this, and accomplish that which was already planned by
my father."
Here the prince grew vivacious, rose from the chair, and began to walk
through the room.
"This will not take place without difficulty and obstacles," continued
he, "for the Radzivills of Olyta and Nyesvyej are not willing to aid
us. I know that Prince Michael wrote to my cousin that he would better
think of a hair-shirt than of a royal mantle. Let him think of a
hair-shirt himself, let him do penance, let him sit on ashes, let the
Jesuits lash his skin with disciplines; if he is content with being a
royal carver, let him carve capons virtuously all his virtuous life,
till his virtuous death! We shall get on without him and not drop our
hands, for just now is the time. The devils are taking the
Commonwealth; for now it is so weak, has gone to such dogs, that it
cannot drive them away. Every one is crawling in over its boundaries,
as into an unfenced garden. What has happened here with the Swedes has
happened nowhere on earth to this day. We, Sir Cavalier, may sing in
truth 'Te Deum laudamus.' In its way the event is unheard of,
unparalleled. Just think: an invader attacks a country, an invader
famous for rapacity; and not only does he not find resistance,
but every living man deserts his old king and hurries to a new
one,--magnates, nobles, the army, castles, towns, all,--without honor,
without fame, without feeling, without shame! History gives not another
such example. Tfu! tfu! trash inhabit this country,--men without
conscience or ambition. And is such a country not to perish? They are
looking for our favor! Ye will have favor! In Great Poland already the
Swedes are thumb-screwing nobles; and so will it be everywhere,--it
cannot be otherwise."
Kmita grew paler and paler, but with the remnant of his strength he
held in curb an outburst of fury; the prince, absorbed in his own
speech, delighted with his own words, with his own wisdom, paid no
attention to his listener, and continued,--
"There is a custom in this land that when a man is dying his relatives
at the last moment pull the pillow from under his head, so that he may
not suffer longer. I and the prince voevoda of Vilna have determined to
render this special service to the Commonwealth. But because many
plunderers are watching for the inheritance and we cannot get it all,
we wish that a part, and that no small one, should come to us. As
relatives, we have that right. If with this comparison I have not
spoken on a level with your understanding, and have not been able to
hit the point, I will tell you in other words: Suppose the Commonwealth
a red cloth at which are pulling the Swedes, Hmelnitski, the
Hyperboreans,[23] the Tartars, the elector, and whosoever lives around.
But I and the prince voevoda of Vilna have agreed that enough of that
cloth must remain in our hands to make a robe for us; therefore we do
not prevent the dragging, but we drag ourselves. Let Hmelnitski
stay in the Ukraine; let the Swedes and the elector settle about
Prussia and Great Poland; let Rakotsy, or whoever is nearer, take
Little Poland,--Lithuania must be for Prince Yanush, and, together with
his daughter, for me."
Kmita rose quickly. "I give thanks, your highness; that is all I wanted
to know."
"You are going out, Sir Cavalier?"
"I am."
The prince looked carefully at Kmita, and at that moment first noted
his pallor and excitement.
"What is the matter, Pan Kmita?" asked he. "You look like a ghost."
"Weariness has knocked me off my feet, and my head is dizzy. Farewell,
your highness; I will come before starting, to bow to you again."
"Make haste, then, for I start after midday myself."
"I shall return in an hour at furthest."
When he had said this, Kmita bent his head and went out. In the other
room the servants rose at sight of him, but he passed like a drunken
man, seeing no one. At the threshold of the room he caught his head
with both hands, and began to repeat, almost with a groan,--
"Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews! Jesus, Mary, Joseph!"
With tottering steps he passed through the guard, composed of six men
with halberds. Outside the gate were his own men, the sergeant Soroka
at the head of them.
"After me!" called Kmita. And he moved through the town toward the inn.
Soroka, an old soldier of Kmita's, knowing him perfectly, noticed at
once that something uncommon had happened to the colonel.
"Let your soul be on guard," said he quietly to the men; "woe to him on
whom his anger falls now!"
The soldiers hastened their steps in silence, but Kmita did not go at a
walk; he almost ran, waving his hand and repeating words well-nigh
incoherent.
To the ears of Soroka came only broken phrases,--
"Poisoners, faith-breakers, traitors! Crime and treason,--the two are
the same--"
Then he began to mention his old comrades. The names Kokosinski,
Kulvyets, Ranitski, Rekuts, and others fell from his lips one after
another; a number of times he mentioned Volodyovski. Soroka heard this
with wonder, and grew more and more alarmed; but in his mind he
thought,--
"Some one's blood will flow; it cannot be otherwise."
Meanwhile they had come to the inn. Kmita shut himself in his room at
once, and for about an hour he gave no sign of life. The soldiers
meanwhile had tied on the packs and saddled the horses without order.
"That is no harm," said Soroka; "it is necessary to be ready for
everything."
"We too are ready!" answered the old fighters, moving their mustaches.
In fact, it came out soon that Soroka knew his colonel well; for Kmita
appeared suddenly in the front room, without a cap, in his trousers and
shirt only.
"Saddle the horses!" cried he.
"They are saddled."
"Fasten on the packs!"
"They are fastened."
"A ducat a man!" cried the young colonel, who in spite of all his fever
and excitement saw that those soldiers had guessed his thought quickly.
"We give thanks, Commander!" cried all in chorus.
"Two men will take the pack-horses and go out of the place immediately
toward Dembova. Go slowly through the town; outside the town put the
horses on a gallop, and stop not till the forest is reached."
"According to command!"
"Four others load their pistols. For me saddle two horses, and let
another be ready."
"I knew there would be something!" muttered Soroka.
"Now, Sergeant, after me!" cried Kmita.
And undressed as he was, in trousers only, and open shirt, he went out
of the front room. Soroka followed him, opening his eyes widely with
wonder; they went in this fashion to the well in the yard of the inn.
Here Kmita stopped, and pointing to the bucket hanging from the sweep,
said,--
"Pour water on my head!"
Soroka knew from experience how dangerous it was to ask twice about an
order; he seized the rope, let the bucket down into the water, drew up
quickly, and taking the bucket in his hands, threw the water on Pan
Andrei, who, puffing and blowing like a whale, rubbed his wet hair with
his hands, and cried,--
"More!"
Soroka repeated the act, and threw water with all his force, just as if
he were putting out a fire.
"Enough!" said Kmita, at length. "Follow me, help me to dress."
Both went to the inn. At the gate they met the two men going out with
two pack-horses.
"Slowly through the town; outside the town on a gallop!" commanded
Kmita; and he went in.
Half an hour later he appeared dressed completely, as if for the road,
with high boots and an elkskin coat, girded with a leather belt into
which was thrust a pistol.
The soldiers noticed, too, that from under his kaftan gleamed the edge
of chain mail, as if he were going to battle. He had his sabre also
girt high, so as to seize the hilt more easily. His face was calm
enough, but stern and threatening. Casting a glance at the soldiers to
see if they were ready and armed properly, he mounted his horse, and
throwing a ducat at the innkeeper, rode out of the place.
Soroka rode at his side; three others behind, leading a horse. Soon
they found themselves on the square filled by Boguslav's troops. There
was movement among them already; evidently the command had come to
prepare for the road. The horsemen were tightening the girths of the
saddle and bridling the horses; the infantry were taking their muskets,
stacked before the houses; others were attaching horses to wagons.
Kmita started as it were from meditation.
"Hear me, old man," said he to Soroka; "from the starosta's house does
the road go on,--it will not be necessary to come back through the
square?"
"But where are we going, Colonel?"
"To Dembova."
"Then we must go from the square past the house. The square will be
behind us."
"It is well," said Kmita.
"Oh, if only those men were alive now! Few are fitted for work like
this,--few!"
Meanwhile they passed the square, and began to turn toward the
starosta's house, which lay about one furlong and a half farther on,
near the roadside.
"Stop!" cried Kmita, suddenly.
The soldiers halted, and he turned to them. "Are you ready for death?"
asked he, abruptly.
"Ready!" answered in chorus these dare-devils of Orsha.
"We crawled up to Hovanski's throat, and he did not devour us,--do you
remember?"
"We remember!"
"There is need to dare great things to-day. If success comes, our
gracious king will make lords of you,--I guarantee that! If failure,
you will go to the stake!"
"Why not success?" asked Soroka, whose eyes began to gleam like those
of an old wolf.
"There will be success!" said three others,--Biloüs, Zavratynski, and
Lubyenyets.
"We must carry off the prince marshal!" said Kmita. Then he was silent,
wishing to see the impression which the mad thought would make on the
soldiers. But they were silent too, and looked on him as on a rainbow;
only, their mustaches quivered, and their faces became terrible and
murderous.
"The stake is near, the reward far away," added Kmita.
"There are few of us," muttered Zavratynski.
"It is worse than against Hovanski," said Lubyenyets.
"The troops are all in the market-square, and at the house are only the
sentries and about twenty attendants," said Kmita, "who are off their
guard, and have not even swords at their sides."
"You risk your head; why should we not risk ours?" said Soroka.
"Hear me," continued Kmita. "If we do not take him by cunning, we shall
not take him at all. Listen! I will go into the room, and after a time
come out with the prince. If the prince will sit on my horse, I will
sit on the other, and we will ride on. When we have ridden about a
hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, then seize him from both sides by
the shoulders, and gallop the horses with all breath."
"According to order!" answered Soroka.
"If I do not come out," continued Kmita, "and you hear a shot in the
room, then open on the guards with pistols, and give me the horse as I
rush from the door."
"That will be done," answered Soroka.
"Forward!" commanded Kmita.
They moved on, and a quarter of an hour later halted at the gate of the
starosta's house. At the gate were six guards with halberds; at the
door of the anteroom four men were standing. Around a carriage in the
front yard were occupied equerries and outriders, whom an attendant of
consequence was overseeing,--a foreigner, as might be known from his
dress and wig.
Farther on, near the carriage-house, horses were being attached to two
other carriages, to which gigantic Turkish grooms were carrying packs.
Over these watched a man dressed in black, with a face like that of a
doctor or an astrologer.
Kmita announced himself as he had previously, through the officer of
the day, who returned soon and asked him to the prince.
"How are you, Cavalier?" asked the prince, joyfully. "You left me so
suddenly that I thought scruples had risen in you from my words, and I
did not expect to see you again."
"Of course I could not go without making my obeisance."
"Well, I thought: the prince voevoda has known whom to send on a
confidential mission. I make use of you also, for I give you letters to
a number of important persons, and to the King of Sweden himself. But
why armed as if for battle?"
"I am going among confederates; I have heard right here in this place,
and your highness has confirmed the report, that a confederate squadron
passed. Even here in Pilvishki they brought a terrible panic on
Zolotarenko's men, for a famed soldier is leading that squadron."
"Who is he?"
"Pan Volodyovski; and with him are Mirski, Oskyerko, and the two
Skshetuskis,--one that man of Zbaraj, whose wife your highness wanted
to besiege in Tykotsin. All rebelled against the prince voevoda; and it
is a pity, for they were good soldiers. What is to be done? There are
still fools in the Commonwealth who are unwilling to pull the red cloth
with Cossacks and Swedes."
"There is never a lack of fools in the world, and especially in this
country," said the prince. "Here are the letters; and besides, when you
see his Swedish grace, say as if in confidence that in heart I am as
much his adherent as my cousin, but for the time I must dissemble."
"Who is not forced to that?" answered Kmita. "Every man dissembles,
especially if he thinks to do something great."
"That is surely the case. Acquit yourself well, Sir Cavalier, I will be
thankful to you, and will not let the hetman surpass me in rewarding."
"If the favor of your highness is such, I ask reward in advance."
"You have it! Surely my cousin has not furnished you over abundantly
for the road. There is a serpent in his money-box."
"May God guard me from asking money! I did not ask it of the hetman,
and I will not take it from your highness. I am at my own expense, and
I will remain so."
Prince Boguslav looked at the young knight with wonder. "I see that in
truth the Kmitas are not of those who look at men's hands. What is your
wish then, Sir Cavalier?"
"The matter is as follows: without thinking carefully in Kyedani, I
took a horse of high blood, so as to show myself before the Swedes. I
do not exaggerate when I say there is not a better in the stables of
Kyedani. Now I am sorry for him, and I am afraid to injure him on the
road, in the stables of inns, or for want of rest. And as accidents are
not hard to meet, he may fall into enemies' hands, even those of that
Volodyovski, who personally is terribly hostile to me. I have thought,
therefore, to beg your highness to take him to keep and use until I ask
for him at a more convenient time."
"Better sell him to me."
"Impossible,--it would be like selling a friend. At a small estimate
that horse has taken me a hundred times out of the greatest danger; for
he has this virtue too, that in battle he bites the enemy savagely."
"Is he such a good horse?" asked Prince Boguslav, with lively interest.
"Is he good? If I were sure your highness would not be offended, I
would bet a hundred gold florins without looking, that your highness
has not such a one in your stables."
"Maybe I would bet, if it were not that to-day is not the time for a
trial. I will keep him willingly, though; if possible, I would buy. But
where is this wonder kept?"
"My men are holding him just here in front of the gate. As to his being
a wonder, he is a wonder; for it is no exaggeration to say that the
Sultan might covet such a horse. He is not of this country, but from
Anatolia; and in Anatolia, as I think, only one such was found."
"Then let us look at him."
"I serve your highness."
Before the gate Kmita's men were holding two horses completely
equipped: one was indeed of high breed, black as a raven, with a star
on his forehead, and a white fetlock to a leg like a lance; he neighed
slightly at sight of his master.
"I guess that to be the one," said Boguslav. "I do not know whether he
is such a wonder as you say, but in truth he is a fine horse."
"Try him!" cried Kmita; "or no, I will mount him myself!"
The soldiers gave Kmita the horse; he mounted, and began to ride around
near the gate. Under the skilled rider the horse seemed doubly
beautiful. His prominent eyes gained brightness as he moved at a trot;
he seemed to blow forth inner fire through his nostrils, while the wind
unfolded his mane. Pan Kmita described a circle, changed his gait; at
last he rode straight on the prince, so that the nostrils of the horse
were not a yard from his face, and cried,--
"Halt!"
The horse stopped with his four feet resisting, and stood as if fixed
to the ground.
"What do you say?" asked Kmita.
"The eyes and legs of a deer, the gait of a wolf, the nostrils of an
elk, and the breast of a woman!" said Boguslav. "Here is all that is
needed. Does he understand German command?"
"Yes; for my horse-trainer Zend, who was a Courlander, taught him."
"And the beast is swift?"
"The wind cannot come up with him; a Tartar cannot escape him."
"Your trainer must have been a good one, for I see that the horse is
highly taught."
"Is he taught? Your highness will not believe. He goes so in the rank
that when the line is moving at a trot, you may let the reins drop and
he will not push one half of his nose beyond the line. If your highness
will be pleased to try, and if in two furlongs he will push beyond the
others half a head, then I will give him as a gift."
"That would be the greatest wonder, not to advance with dropped reins."
"It is wonderful and convenient, for both hands of the rider are free.
More than once have I had a sabre in one hand and a pistol in the
other, and the horse went alone."
"But if the rank turns?"
"Then he will turn too without breaking the line."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the prince; "no horse will do that. I have seen
in France horses of the king's musketeers, greatly trained, of purpose
not to spoil the court ceremonies, but still it was necessary to guide
them with reins."
"The wit of man is in this horse. Let your highness try him yourself."
"Give him here!" said the prince, after a moment's thought.
Kmita held the horse till Boguslav mounted. He sprang lightly into the
saddle, and began to pat the steed on his shining neck.
"A wonderful thing," said he; "the best horses shed their hair in the
autumn, but this one is as if he had come out of water. In what
direction shall we go?"
"Let us move in a line, and if your highness permits, toward the
forest. The road is even and broad, but in the direction of the town
some wagon might come in the way."
"Let us ride toward the forest."
"Just two furlongs. Let your highness drop the reins and start on a
gallop. Two men on each side, and I will ride a little behind."
"Take your places!" said the prince.
The line was formed; they turned the horses' heads from the town. The
prince was in the middle.
"Forward!" said he. "On a gallop from the start,--march!"
The line shot on, and after a certain time was moving like a whirlwind.
A cloud of dust hid them from the eyes of the attendants and equerries,
who, collecting in a crowd at the gate, looked with curiosity at the
racing. The trained horses going at the highest speed, snorting from
effort, had run already a furlong or more; and the prince's steed,
though not held by the reins, did not push forward an inch. They ran
another furlong. Kmita turned, and seeing behind only a cloud of dust,
through which the starosta's house could barely be seen, and the people
standing before it not at all, cried with a terrible voice,--
"Take him!"
At this moment Biloüs and the gigantic Zavratynski seized both arms of
the prince, and squeezed them till the bones cracked in their joints,
and holding him in their iron fists, put spurs to their own horses.
The prince's horse in the middle held the line, neither pushing ahead
nor holding back an inch. Astonishment, fright, the whirlwind beating
in his face, deprived Prince Boguslav of speech for the first moment.
He struggled once and a second time,--without result, however, for pain
from his twisted arms pierced him through.
"What is this, ruffians? Know ye not who I am?" cried he at last.
Thereupon Kmita pushed him with the barrel of the pistol between the
shoulders. "Resistance is useless; it will only bring a bullet in your
body!" cried he.
"Traitor!" said the prince.
"But who are you?" asked Kmita.
And they galloped on farther.