They ran long through the pine-forest with such speed that the trees by
the roadside seemed to flee backward in panic; inns, huts of forest
guards, pitch-clearings, flashed by, and at times wagons singly or a
few together, going to Pilvishki. From time to time Boguslav bent
forward in the saddle as if to struggle; but his arms were only
wrenched the more painfully in the iron hands of the soldiers, while
Pan Andrei held the pistol-barrel between the princess shoulders again,
and they rushed on till the white foam was falling in flakes from the
horses.
At last they were forced to slacken the speed, for breath failed both
men and beasts, and Pilvishki was so far behind that all possibility of
pursuit had ceased. They rode on then a certain time at a walk and in
silence, surrounded by a cloud of steam, which was issuing from the
horses.
For a long time the prince said nothing; he was evidently trying to
calm himself and cool his blood. When he had done this he asked,--
"Whither are you taking me?"
"Your highness will know that at the end of the road," answered Kmita.
Boguslav was silent, but after a while said, "Cavalier, command these
trash to let me go, for they are pulling out my arms. If you command
them to do so, they will only hang; if not, they will go to the stake."
"They are nobles, not trash," answered Kmita; "and as to the punishment
which your highness threatens, it is not known whom death will strike
first."
"Know ye on whom ye have raised hands?" asked the prince, turning to
the soldiers.
"We know," answered they.
"By a million horned devils!" cried Boguslav, with an outburst. "Will
you command these people to let me go, or not?"
"Your highness, I will order them to bind your arms behind your back;
then you will be quieter."
"Impossible! You will put my arms quite out of joint."
"I would give orders to let another off on his word that he would not
try to escape, but you know how to break your word," said Kmita.
"I will give another word," answered the prince,--"that not only will I
escape at the first opportunity, but I will have you torn apart with
horses, when you fall into my hands."
"What God wants to give, he gives!" said Kmita. "But I prefer a sincere
threat to a lying promise. Let go his hands, only hold his horse by the
bridle; but, your highness, look here! I have but to touch the trigger
to put a bullet into your body, and I shall not miss, for I never miss.
Sit quietly; do not try to escape."
"I do not care, Cavalier, for you or your pistol."
When he had said this, the prince stretched his aching arms, to
straighten them and shake off the numbness. The soldiers caught the
horse's bridle on both sides, and led him on.
After a while Boguslav said, "You dare not look me in the eyes, Pan
Kmita; you hide in the rear."
"Indeed!" answered Kmita; and urging forward his horse, he pushed
Zavratynski away, and seizing the reins of the prince's horse, he
looked Boguslav straight in the face. "And how is my horse? Have I
added even one virtue?"
"A good horse!" answered the prince. "If you wish, I will buy him."
"This horse deserves a better fate than to carry a traitor till his
death."
"You are a fool, Pan Kmita."
"Yes, for I believed the Radzivills."
Again came a moment of silence, which was broken by the prince.
"Tell me, Pan Kmita, are you sure that you are in your right mind, that
your reason has not left you? Have you asked yourself what you have
done, madman? Has it not come to your head that as things are now it
would have been better for you if your mother had not given you birth,
and that no one, not only in Poland, but in all Europe, would have
ventured on such a dare-devil deed?"
"Then it is clear that there is no great courage in that Europe, for I
have carried off your highness, hold you, and will not let you go."
"It can only be an affair with a madman," said the prince, as if to
himself.
"My gracious prince," answered Pan Andrei, "you are in my hands; be
reconciled to that, and waste not words in vain. Pursuit will not come
up, for your men think to this moment that you have come off with me
voluntarily. When my men took you by the arms no one saw it, for the
dust covered us; and even if there were no dust, neither the equerries
nor the guards could have seen, it was so far. They will wait for you
two hours; the third hour they will be impatient, the fourth and fifth
uneasy, and the sixth will send out men in search; but we meanwhile
shall be beyond Maryapole."
"What of that?"
"This, that they will not pursue; and even if they should start
immediately in pursuit, your horses are just from the road, while ours
are fresh. Even if by some miracle they should come up, that would
not save you, for, as truly as you see me here, I should open your
head,--which I shall do if nothing else is possible. This is the
position! Radzivill has a court, an army, cannon, dragoons; Kmita has
six men, and Kmita holds Radzivill by the neck."
"What further?" asked the prince.
"Nothing further! We will go where it pleases me. Thank God, your
highness, that you are alive; for were it not that I gave orders to
throw many gallons of water on my head to-day, you would be in the
other world already, that is, in hell, for two reasons,--as a traitor
and as a Calvinist."
"And would you have dared to do that?"
"Without praising myself I say that your highness would not easily find
an undertaking on which I would not venture; you have the best proof of
that in yourself."
The prince looked carefully at the young man and said, "Cavalier, the
devil has written on your face that you are ready for anything, and
that is the reason why I have a proof in myself. I tell you, indeed,
that you have been able to astonish me with your boldness, and that is
no easy thing."
"That's all one to me. Give thanks to God, your highness, that you are
alive yet, and quits."
"No, Cavalier. First of all, do you thank God; for if one hair had
fallen from my head, then know that the Radzivills would find you even
under the earth. If you think that because there is disunion between us
and those of Nyesvyej and Olyta, and that they will not pursue you, you
are mistaken. Radzivill blood must be avenged, an awful example must be
given, otherwise there would be no life for us in this Commonwealth.
You cannot hide abroad, either: the Emperor of Germany will give you
up, for I am a prince of the German Empire; the Elector of Brandenburg
is my uncle; the Prince of Orange is his brother-in-law; the King and
Queen of France and their ministers are my friends. Where will you
hide? The Turks and Tartars will sell you, though we had to give them
half our fortune. You will not find on earth a corner, nor such
deserts, nor such people--"
"It is a wonder to me," replied Kmita, "that your highness takes such
thought in advance for my safety. A great person a Radzivill! Still I
have only to touch a trigger."
"I do not deny that. More than once it has happened in the world that a
great man died at the hands of a common one. A camp-follower killed
Pompey; French kings perished at the hands of low people. Without going
farther, the same thing happened to my great father. But I ask you what
will come next?"
"What is that to me? I have never taken much thought of what will be
to-morrow. If it comes to close quarters with all the Radzivills, God
knows who will be warmed up best. The sword has been long hanging over
my head, but the moment I close my eyes I sleep as sweetly as a suslik.
And if one Radzivill is not enough for me, I will carry off a second,
and a third."
"As God is dear to me, Cavalier, you please me much; for I repeat that
you alone in Europe could dare a deed like this. The beast does not
care, nor mind what will come to-morrow. I love daring people, and
there are fewer and fewer of them in the world. Just think! he has
carried off a Radzivill and holds him as his own. Where were you reared
in this fashion, Cavalier? Whence do you come?"
"I am banneret of Orsha."
"Pan Banneret of Orsha, I grieve that the Radzivills are losing a man
like you, for with such men much might be done. If it were not a
question of myself--h'm! I would spare nothing to win you."
"Too late!" said Kmita.
"That is to be understood," answered the prince. "Much too late! But I
tell you beforehand that I will order you only to be shot, for you are
worthy to die a soldier's death. What an incarnate devil to carry me
off from the midst of my men!"
Kmita made no answer; the prince meditated awhile, then cried,--
"If you free me at once, I will not take vengeance. Only give me your
word that you will tell no one of this, and command your men to be
silent."
"Impossible!" replied Kmita.
"Do you want a ransom?"
"I do not."
"What the devil, then, did you carry me off for? I cannot understand
it."
"It would take a long time to tell. I will tell your highness later."
"But what have we to do on the road unless to talk? Acknowledge,
Cavalier, one thing: you carried me off in a moment of anger and
desperation, and now you don't know well what to do with me."
"That is my affair!" answered Kmita; "and if I do not know what to do,
it will soon be seen."
Impatience was depicted on Prince Boguslav's face.
"You are not over-communicative, Pan Banneret of Orsha; but answer me
one question at least sincerely: Did you come to me, to Podlyasye, with
a plan already formed of attacking my person, or did it enter your head
in the last moment?"
"To that I can answer your highness sincerely, for my lips are burning
to tell you why I left your cause; and while I am alive, while there is
breath in my body, I shall not return to it. The prince voevoda of
Vilna deceived me, and in advance brought me to swear on the crucifix
that I would not leave him till death."
"And you are keeping the oath well. There is nothing to be said on that
point."
"True!" cried Kmita, violently. "If I have lost my soul, if I must be
damned, it is through the Radzivills. But I give myself to the mercy of
God, and I would rather lose my soul, I would rather burn eternally,
than to sin longer with knowledge and willingly,--than to serve longer,
knowing that I serve sin and treason. May God have mercy on me! I
prefer to burn, I prefer a hundred times to burn; I should burn surely,
if I remained with you. I have nothing to lose; but at least I shall
say at the judgment of God: 'I knew not what I was swearing, and had I
discovered that I had sworn treason to the country, destruction to the
Polish name, I should have broken the oath right there.' Now let the
Lord God be my judge."
"To the question, to the question!" said Boguslav, calmly.
But Pan Andrei breathed heavily, and rode on some time in silence, with
frowning brow and eyes fixed on the earth, like a man bowed down by
misfortune.
"To the question!" repeated the prince.
Kmita roused himself as if from a dream, shook his head, and said,--
"I believed the prince hetman as I would not have believed my own
father. I remember that banquet at which he announced his union with
the Swedes. What I suffered then, what I passed through, God will
account to me. Others, honorable men, threw their batons at his feet
and remained with their country; but I stood like a stump with the
baton, with shame, with submission, with infamy, in torture, for I was
called traitor to my eyes. And who called me traitor? Oi, better not
say, lest I forget myself, go mad, and put a bullet right here in the
head of your highness. You are the men, you the traitors, the Judases,
who brought me to that."
Here Kmita gazed with a terrible expression on the prince, and hatred
came out on his face from the bottom of his soul, like a dragon which
had crawled out of a cave to the light of day; but Boguslav looked at
the young man with a calm, fearless eye. At last he said,--
"But that interests me, Pan Kmita; speak on."
Kmita dropped the bridle of the prince's horse, and removed his cap as
if wishing to cool his burning head.
"That same night," continued he, "I went to the hetman, for he gave
command to call me. I thought to myself, 'I will renounce his service,
break my oath, suffocate him, choke him with these hands, blow up
Kyedani with powder, and then let happen what may.' He knew too that
was ready for anything, knew what I was; I saw well that he was
fingering a box in which there were pistols. 'That is nothing,' thought
I to myself; 'either he will miss me or he will kill me.' But he began
to reason, to speak, to show such a prospect to me, simpleton, and put
himself forward as such a savior, that your highness knows what
happened."
"He convinced the young man," said Boguslav.
"So that I fell at his feet," cried Kmita, "and saw in him the father,
the one savior, of the country; so that I gave myself to him soul and
body as to a devil. For him, for his honesty I was ready to hurl myself
headlong from the tower of Kyedani."
"I thought such would be the end," said Boguslav.
"What I lost in his cause I will not say, but I rendered him important
services. I held in obedience my squadron, which is in Kyedani
now,--God grant to his ruin! Others, who mutinied, I cut up badly. I
stained my hands in brothers' blood, believing that a stern necessity
for the country. Often my soul was pained at giving command to shoot
honest soldiers; often the nature of a noble rebelled against him, when
one time and another he promised something and did not keep his word.
But I thought: 'I am simple, he is wise!--it must be done so.' But
to-day, when I learned for the first time from those letters of the
poisons, the marrow stiffened in my bones. How? Is this the kind of
war? You wish to poison soldiers? And that is to be in hetman fashion?
That is to be the Radzivill method, and am I to carry such letters?"
"You know nothing of politics, Cavalier," interrupted Boguslav.
"May the thunders crush it! Let the criminal Italians practise it, not
a noble whom God has adorned with more honorable blood than others, but
at the same time obliged him to war with a sabre and not with a
drug-shop."
"These letters, then, so astonished you that you determined to leave
the Radzivills?"
"It was not the letters,--I might have thrown them to the hangman, or
tossed them into the fire, for they refer not to my duties; it was not
the letters. I might have refused the mission without leaving the
cause. Do I know what I might have done? I might have joined the
dragoons, or collected a party again, and harried Hovanski as before.
But straightway a suspicion came to me: 'But do they not wish to poison
the country as well as those soldiers?' God granted me not to break
out, though my head was burning like a grenade, to remember myself, to
have the power to think: 'Draw him by the tongue, and discover the
whole truth; betray not what you have at heart, give yourself out as
worse than the Radzivills themselves, and draw him by the tongue.'"
"Whom,--me?"
"Yes! God aided me, so that I, simple man, deceived a politician,--so
that your highness, holding me the last of ruffians, hid nothing of
your own ruffianism, confessed everything, told everything, as if it
had been written on the hand. The hair stood on my head, but I listened
and listened to the end. O traitors! arch hell-dwellers! O parricides!
How is it, that a thunderbolt has not stricken you down before now? How
is it that the earth has not swallowed you? So you are treating with
Hmelnitski, with the Swedes, with the elector, with Rakotsy, and with
the devil himself to the destruction of this Commonwealth? Now you want
to cut a mantle out of it for yourself, to sell it to divide it, to
tear your own mother like wolves? Such is your gratitude for all the
benefits heaped on you,--for the offices, the honors, the dignities,
the wealth, the authority, the estates which foreign kings envy you?
And you were ready without regard to those tears, torments, oppression.
Where is your conscience, where your faith, where your honesty? What
monster brought you into the world?"
"Cavalier," interrupted Boguslav, coldly, "you have me in your hand,
you can kill me; but I beg one thing, do not bore me."
Both were silent.
However, it appeared plainly, from the words of Kmita, that the soldier
had been able to draw out the naked truth from the diplomat, and that
the prince was guilty of great incautiousness, of a great error in
betraying his most secret plans and those of the hetman. This pricked
his vanity; therefore, not caring to hide his ill-humor, he said,--
"Do not ascribe it to your own wit merely, Pan Kmita, that you got the
truth from me. I spoke openly, for I thought the prince voevoda knew
people better, and had sent a man worthy of confidence."
"The prince voevoda sent a man worthy of confidence," answered Kmita,
"but you have lost him. Henceforth only scoundrels will serve you."
"If the way in which you seized me was not scoundrelly, then may the
sword grow to my hand in the first battle."
"It was a stratagem! I learned it in a hard school. You wish, your
highness, to know Kmita. Here he is! I shall not go with empty hands to
our gracious lord."
"And you think that a hair of my head will fall from the hand of Yan
Kazimir?"
"That is a question for the judges, not for me."
Suddenly Kmita reined in his horse: "But the letter of the prince
voevoda,--have you that letter on your person?"
"If I had, I would not give it. The letter remained in Pilvishki."
"Search him!" cried Kmita.
The soldiers seized the prince again by the arms. Soroka began to
search his pockets. After a while he found the letter.
"Here is one document against you and your works," said Pan Andrei,
taking the letter. "The King of Poland will know from it what you have
in view; the Swedish King will know too, that although now you are
serving him, the prince voevoda reserves to himself freedom to withdraw
if the Swedish foot stumbles. All your treasons will come out, all your
machinations. But I have, besides, other letters,--to the King of
Sweden, to Wittemberg, to Radzeyovski. You are great and powerful;
still I am not sure that it will not be too narrow for you in this
Commonwealth, when both kings will prepare a recompense worthy of your
treasons."
Prince Boguslav's eyes gleamed with ill-omened light, but after a while
he mastered his anger and said,--
"Well, Cavalier! For life or death between us! We have met! You may
cause us trouble and much evil, but I say this: No man has dared
hitherto to do in this country what you have done. Woe be to you and to
yours!"
"I have a sabre to defend myself, and I have something to redeem my own
with," answered Kmita.
"You have me as a hostage," said the prince.
And in spite of all his anger he breathed calmly; he understood one
thing at this moment, that in no case was his life threatened,--that
his person was too much needed by Kmita.
Then they went again at a trot, and after an hour's ride they saw two
horsemen, each of whom led a pair of packhorses. They were Kmita's men
sent in advance from Pilvishki.
"What is the matter?" asked Kmita.
"The horses are terribly tired, for we have not rested yet."
"We shall rest right away!"
"There is a cabin at the turn, maybe 'tis a public house."
"Let the sergeant push on to prepare oats. Public house or not, we must
halt."
"According to order, Commander."
Soroka gave reins to the horses, and they followed him slowly. Kmita
rode at one side of the prince, Lubyenyets at the other. Boguslav had
become completely calm and quiet; he did not draw Pan Andrei into
further conversation. He seemed to be exhausted by the journey, or by
the position in which he found himself, and dropping his head somewhat
on his breast, closed his eyes. Still from time to time he cast a side
look now at Kmita, now at Lubyenyets, who held the reins of the horse,
as if studying to discover who would be the easier to overturn so as to
wrest himself free.
They approached the building situated on the roadside at a bulge of the
forest. It was not a public house, but a forge and a wheelwright-shop,
in which those going by the road stopped to shoe their horses and mend
their wagons. Between the forge and the road there was a small open
area, sparsely covered with trampled grass; fragments of wagons and
broken wheels lay thrown here and there on that place, but there were
no travellers. Soroka's horses stood tied to a post. Soroka himself was
talking before the forge to the blacksmith, a Tartar, and two of his
assistants.
"We shall not have an over-abundant repast," said the prince; "there is
nothing to be had here."
"We have food and spirits with us," answered Kmita.
"That is well! We shall need strength."
They halted. Kmita thrust his pistol behind his belt, sprang from the
saddle, and giving his horse to Soroka, seized again the reins of the
prince's horse, which however Lubyenyets had not let go from his hand
on the other side.
"Your highness will dismount!" said Kmita.
"Why is that? I will eat and drink in the saddle," said the prince,
bending down.
"I beg you to come to the ground!" said Kmita, threateningly.
"But into the ground with you!" cried the prince, with a terrible
voice; and drawing with the quickness of lightning the pistol from
Kmita's belt, he thundered into his very face.
"Jesus, Mary!" cried Kmita.
At this moment the horse under the prince struck with spurs reared so
that he stood almost erect; the prince turned like a snake in the
saddle toward Lubyenyets, and with all the strength of his powerful arm
struck him with the pistol between the eyes.
Lubyenyets roared terribly and fell from the horse.
Before the others could understand what had happened, before they had
drawn breath, before the cry of fright had died on their lips, Boguslav
scattered them as a storm would have done, rushed from the square to
the road, and shot on like a whirlwind toward Pilvishki.
"Seize him! Hold him! Kill him!" cried wild voices.
Three soldiers who were sitting yet on the horses rushed after him; but
Soroka seized a musket standing at the wall, and aimed at the fleeing
man, or rather at his horse.
The horse stretched out like a deer, and moved forward like an arrow
urged from the string. The shot thundered. Soroka rushed through the
smoke for a better view of what he had done; he shaded his eyes with
his hand, gazed awhile, and cried at last,--
"Missed!"
At this moment Boguslav disappeared beyond the bend, and after him
vanished the pursuers.
Then Soroka turned to the blacksmith and his assistants, who were
looking up to that moment with dumb astonishment at what had happened,
and cried,--
"Water!"
The blacksmith ran to draw water, and Soroka knelt near Pan Andrei, who
was lying motionless. Kmita's face was covered with powder from the
discharge, and with drops of blood; his eyes were closed, his left brow
and left temple were blackened. The sergeant began first to feel
lightly with his fingers the head of his colonel.
"His head is sound."
But Kmita gave no signs of life, and blood came abundantly from his
face. The blacksmith's assistants brought a bucket of water and a
cloth. Soroka, with equal deliberation and care, began to wipe Kmita's
face.
Finally the wound appeared from under the blood and blackness. The ball
had opened Kmita's left cheek deeply, and had carried away the end of
his ear. Soroka examined to see if his cheek-bone were broken.
After a while he convinced himself that it was not, and drew a long
breath. Kmita, under the influence of cold water and pain, began to
give signs of life. His face quivered, his breast heaved with breath.
"He is alive!--nothing! he will be unharmed," cried Soroka, joyfully;
and a tear rolled down the murderous face of the sergeant.
Meanwhile at the turn of the road appeared Biloüs, one of the three
soldiers who had followed the prince.
"Well, what?" called Soroka.
The soldier shook his head. "Nothing!"
"Will the others return soon?"
"The others will not return."
With trembling hands the sergeant laid Kmita's head on the threshold of
the forge, and sprang to his feet. "How is that?"
"Sergeant, that prince is a wizard! Zavratynski caught up first, for he
had the best horse, and because the prince let him catch up. Before our
eyes Boguslav snatched the sabre from his hand and thrust him through.
We had barely to cry out. Vitkovski was next, and sprang to help; and
him this Radzivill cut down before my eyes, as if a thunderbolt had
struck him. He did not give a sound. I did not wait my turn. Sergeant,
the prince is ready to come back here."
"There is nothing in this place for us," said Soroka. "To horse!"
That moment they began to make a stretcher between the horses for
Kmita. Two of the soldiers, at the command of Soroka, stood with
muskets on the road, fearing the return of the terrible man.
But Prince Boguslav, convinced that Kmita was not alive, rode quietly
to Pilvishki. About dark he was met by a whole detachment of horsemen
sent out by Patterson, whom the absence of the prince had disturbed for
some time. The officer, on seeing the prince, galloped to him,--
"Your highness, we did not know--"
"That is nothing!" interrupted Prince Boguslav. "I was riding this
horse in the company of that cavalier, of whom I bought him."
And after a while he added: "I paid him well."