Late in the evening the army arrived in Rozlogi by moonlight. There
they found Pan Yan sitting on his Calvary. The knight, as is known, had
lost his senses altogether from pain and torment; and when the priest
Mukhovetski brought him to his mind, the officers bore him away and
began to greet and comfort him, especially Pan Longin Podbipienta, who
for three months past had been a popular officer in Skshetuski's
regiment. Pan Longin was ready also to be his companion in sighing and
weeping, and for his benefit made a new vow at once, that he would fast
every Tuesday of his life, if God would in any way send solace to the
lieutenant.
Skshetuski was conducted straightway to Vishnyevetski at a peasant's
cottage. When the prince saw his favorite he said not a word; he only
opened his arms to him and waited. Skshetuski threw himself into those
arms with loud weeping. Yeremi pressed him to his bosom and kissed him
on the forehead, and the officers present saw the tears in his worthy
eyes. After a while he began to speak,--
"I greet you as a son, for I thought I should never see you again. Bear
your burden manfully, and remember that you will have thousands of
comrades in misfortune who will leave wives, children, parents, and
friends; and as a drop of water is lost in an ocean, so let your
suffering sink in the sea of universal pain. When such terrible times
have come on our dear country, whoever is a man and has a sword at his
side will not yield himself to weeping over his own loss, but will
hasten to the rescue of the common mother, and either find relief in
his conscience or lie down in a glorious death, receive a heavenly
crown, and with it eternal happiness."
"Amen!" said the priest Mukhovetski.
"Oh, I should rather see her dead!" groaned the knight.
"Weep, then, for great is your loss, and we will weep with you; for you
have come not to Pagans, wild Scythians, or Tartars, but to brothers
and loving comrades. Say to yourself, 'To-day I will weep over myself,
but to-morrow is not mine;' for remember that to-morrow we march to
battle."
"I will go with you to the end of the world; but I cannot console
myself. It is so grievous for me without her that I cannot, I cannot--"
The poor fellow seized himself by the head, then put his fingers
between his teeth, and gnawed them to overcome the groans, for a storm
of despair was tearing him afresh.
"You have said, 'Thy will be done!'" said the priest, severely.
"Amen, amen! I yield to his will, but with pain. I cannot help it,"
answered the knight, with a broken voice.
They could see how he struggled and writhed, and his suffering wrung
tears from them all. The most sensitive were Volodyovski and
Podbipienta, who poured out whole streams. The latter clasped his hands
and said pitifully:
"Brother, dear brother, contain yourself!"
"Listen!" said the prince on a sudden, "I have news that Bogun rushed
off from here toward Lubni, for he cut down my men at Vassílyevka. Do
not despair too soon, for perhaps he did not find her; if he did, why
should he rush on toward Lubni?"
"As true as life, that may be the case," cried some of the officers.
"God will console you."
Skshetuski opened his eyes as if he did not understand what they were
saying. Suddenly hope gleamed in his mind, and he threw himself at the
feet of the prince.
"Oh, your Highness!" cried he, "my life, my blood--"
He could speak no further. He had grown so weak that Pan Longin was
obliged to raise him and place him on the bench; but it was evident
from his looks that he had grasped at that hope as a drowning man at a
plank, and that his pain had left him. The officers fanned that spark,
saying he might find the princess in Lubni. Afterward they took him to
another cottage, and then brought him mead and wine. He wished to
drink, but could not, his throat was so straitened. His faithful
comrades drank instead; and when they had grown gladsome they began to
embrace and kiss him, and to wonder at his meagreness and the marks of
sickness which he bore on his face.
"Oh, you look like one risen from the dead," said portly Pan Dzik.
"It must be they insulted you in the Saitch, and gave you neither food
nor drink."
"Tell us what happened to you."
"I will tell you some time," said Skshetuski, with a weak voice. "They
wounded me, and I was sick."
"They wounded him!" cried Pan Dzik.
"They wounded him, though an envoy!" added Pan Sleshinski. The
officers, astounded at Cossack insolence, looked at one another, and
then began to press forward to Pan Yan with great friendliness.
"And did you see Hmelnitski?"
"I did."
"Well, give him here!" said Migurski; "we will make mince-meat of him
in a minute."
The night passed in such conversation. Toward morning it was announced
that the second party, despatched on the more distant road to Cherkasi,
had returned. It was evident the men of this party had not come up with
Bogun; they had brought wonderful news, however. They brought many
people whom they had found on the road, and who had seen Bogun two days
before. These people said that the chief was evidently pursuing some
one, for he inquired everywhere if a fat noble had not been seen
fleeing with a young Cossack. Besides, he was in a terrible hurry, and
flew at breakneck speed. The people also affirmed that they had not
seen Bogun taking away a young woman, and they would have seen her
without fail if she had been with him, for only a few Cossacks were
following the chief.
New consolation, but also new anxiety, entered the heart of Pan Yan,
for these stories were simply beyond his comprehension. He did not
understand why Bogun, pursuing first in the direction of Lubni, threw
himself on the garrison at Vassílyevka, and then returned suddenly in
the direction of Cherkasi. That he had not carried off Helena appeared
to be certain, for Pan Kushel had met Anton's party, and she was not
with them. The people now brought from the direction of Cherkasi had
not seen her with Bogun. Where could she be then? Where was she hiding?
Had she escaped? If so, in what direction? Why should she not escape to
Lubni, instead of Cherkasi or Zólotonosha? Still Bogun's parties were
pursuing and hunting somebody around Cherkasi and Próhorovka. But why
were they inquiring about a noble with a young Cossack? To all these
questions the lieutenant found no answer.
"Put your heads together, talk the matter over, explain what this
means," said he to the officers, "for my head is unequal to the task."
"I think she must be in Lubni," said Pan Migurski.
"Impossible!" rejoined Zatsvilikhovski; "for if she were in Lubni then
Bogun would hurry to Chigirin, and would not expose himself to the
hetmans, of whose defeat he could not have known at that time. If he
divided his Cossacks and pursued in two directions, I tell you that he
was pursuing no one but her."
"And why did he inquire for an old noble and a young Cossack?"
"No great sagacity is needed to guess that. If she fled, she was not in
woman's dress, but surely in disguise, so as not to be discovered. It
is my opinion, then, that that Cossack is she."
"Sure as life, sure as life!" repeated the others.
"Well, but who is the noble?"
"I don't know that," replied the old man, "but we can ask about it. The
peasants must have seen who was here and what happened. Let's have the
man of this cottage brought in."
The officers hurried, and brought by the shoulder a "sub-neighbor" from
the cow-house.
"Well, fellow," said Zatsvilikhovski, "were you here when the Cossacks
with Bogun attacked the castle?"
The peasant, as was customary, began to swear that he had not been
present, that he had not seen anything, did not know anything. But
Zatsvilikhovski knew with whom he had to deal; therefore he said,--
"Oh, I know, you son of a Pagan, that you were right here when they
plundered the place. Lie to some one else. Here is a gold ducat for
you, and there is a soldier with a sword. Take your choice. Besides, if
you do not tell, we will burn the village, and harm will come to poor
people through you."
Then the "sub-neighbor" began to tell of what he had seen. When the
Cossacks fell to revelling on the square before the house, he went with
others to see what was going on. They heard that the old princess and
her sons were killed, but that Nikolai had wounded the ataman, who lay
as if lifeless. What happened to the young woman they could not
discover; but at daybreak next morning they heard that she had escaped
with a noble who had come with Bogun.
"That's it! that's it!" said Zatsvilikhovski. "Here is your gold ducat.
You see that no harm has come to you. And did you or any one in the
neighborhood see that noble?"
"I saw him; but he was not from this place."
"What did he look like?"
"He was as big as a stove, with a gray beard, and swore like a
minstrel; blind of one eye."
"Oh, for God's sake!" said Pan Longin, "that must be Pan Zagloba."
"Zagloba, who else!"
"Zagloba? Wait!--Zagloba?--maybe it is. He kept company with Bogun in
Chigirin,--drank and played dice with him. Maybe it is he. The
description fits him."
Here Zatsvilikhovski turned again to the peasant.
"And that noble fled with the young lady?"
"Yes; so we heard."
"Do you know Bogun well?"
"Oh, very well! He used to be here for months at a time."
"But maybe that noble took her away for Bogun?"
"No; how could he do that? He bound Bogun,--tied him up with his
coat,--then, they say, carried off the young lady as far as the eye of
people could see. The ataman howled like a werewolf, and before
daylight had himself bound between horses, and rushed off toward Lubni,
but did not find them; then he rushed in another direction."
"Praise be to God!" said Migurski; "she may be in Lubni. That he
hurried in the direction of Cherkasi is nothing; not finding her in one
place, he tried in another."
Pan Yan was already on his knees, praying fervently.
"Well, well," said the old standard-bearer, "I did not think there was
such mettle in Zagloba that he would dare to attack such a hero as
Bogun. True, he was very friendly to Skshetuski for the triple mead of
Lubni which we drank in Chigirin, He mentioned it to me more than once,
and called him a distinguished cavalier. Well, well, this cannot find a
place yet in my head, for he drank up no small amount of Bogun's money.
But that he should bind Bogun and carry off the lady! I did not expect
such a daring deed from him, for I held him a squabbler and a coward.
Cunning he is, but a tremendous exaggerator; and all the bravery of
such people is generally on their lips."
"Let him be as he likes; it is enough that he has snatched the princess
from the hands of robbers," said Volodyovski. "And since, as is
evident, he has no lack of stratagems, he has surely fled with her in
such fashion as to be safe from the enemy himself."
"His own life depended on that," said Migurski.
Then they turned to Pan Yan and said: "Comfort yourself, dear comrade;
we shall all be your best men yet!"
"And drink at the wedding."
Zatsvilikhovski added: "If he fled beyond the Dnieper and heard of the
defeat at Korsún, he was obliged to return to Chernigoff, and in that
case we shall come up to him on the road."
"Here is to the happy conclusion of all the troubles and sufferings of
our friend!" called out Sleshinski.
They began to raise their glasses to the health of Pan Yan, the
princess, their future descendants, and Zagloba. Thus passed the night.
At daybreak the march was sounded, and the forces moved for Lubni.
The journey was made quickly, for the troops of the prince went without
a train. Pan Yan wished to gallop ahead with the Tartar regiment, but
was too weak. Besides, Prince Yeremi kept him near his own person, for
he wished to hear the account of his mission to the Saitch. The knight
was obliged, therefore, to give an account of how he had travelled, how
they attacked him at Hortitsa and dragged him into the Saitch, but was
silent concerning his disputes with Hmelnitski, lest it might seem that
he was praising himself. The prince was affected most by the news that
old Grodzitski had no powder, and therefore could not defend himself
long.
"That is an unspeakable loss," said he, "for that fortress might cause
great damage and hindrance to the rebellion. Grodzitski is a famous
man, really a _decus et præsidium_ to the Commonwealth. Why did he not
send to me for powder? I should have given it to him from the cellars
of Lubni."
"He thought evidently that by virtue of his office the Grand Hetman
should think of that," said Pan Yan.
"I can believe it," added the prince, and was silent.
After a while, however, he continued: "The Grand Hetman is an old and
experienced soldier, but he had too much self-confidence, and thereby
has ruined himself; he underestimated the whole rebellion, and when I
hurried to him with assistance he did not look at me at all agreeably.
He did not wish to divide the glory with any one, feared the victory
would be attributed to me."
"That is my opinion too," said Skshetuski, gravely.
"He thought to pacify the Zaporojians with clubs. God has punished the
insolence. This Commonwealth is perishing through that same kind of
pride, which is hateful to God, and of which perhaps no one is free."
The prince was right; and in truth he was not himself without blame,
for it was not so long since, in his dispute over Gadyach with Pan
Alexander Konyetspolski, the prince entered Warsaw with four thousand
men, whom he ordered, in case he should be pressed to take the oath in
the Senate, to break into the Chamber and fall upon them all; and he
did this through nothing else but insolent pride, which would not allow
him to be brought to oath instead of giving his word. Maybe he
remembered this affair at that moment; for he fell to thinking, and
rode on in silence, his eyes wandering over the broad steppes which lay
on both sides of the road. Perhaps he thought of the fate of that
Commonwealth which he loved with all the power of his ardent spirit,
and to which the day of wrath and calamity seemed approaching.
After midday the swelling cupolas of Lubni churches and the glittering
roof and pointed towers of St. Michael appeared from the lofty bank of
the Sula. The army marched without hurry, and entered before evening.
The prince went immediately to the castle, where, in accordance with
orders sent in advance, everything had been made ready for the road.
The regiments were disposed for the night in the town,--which was no
easy matter, for there was a great concourse of people in the place.
Roused by reports of the progress of civil war on the right bank and of
ferment among the peasants, all the nobles east of the Dnieper had
crowded to Lubni. They had come even from distant settlements, with
their wives, children, servants, horses, camels, and whole herds of
cattle. There had come also the prince's agents, under-starostas and
all kinds of officials from among the nobles, tenants, Jews; in a word,
all against whom the rebellion might turn sharp knives. You would have
said that some great annual fair was going on at Lubni; for there were
not wanting even merchants of Moscow and Astrakhan Tartars, who, coming
to the Ukraine with goods, halted there in view of war. On the square
stood thousands of wagons of the most varied forms,--some with
willow-bound wheels, others having wheels without spokes, cut out of
one piece of wood,--Cossack telegas, and equipages of nobles. The more
distinguished guests were lodged in the castle and in inns; the
unimportant and servants, in tents near the churches. In the streets
fires were kindled, at which food was cooking; and everywhere was a
throng, a stir, a bustle, as in a bee-hive. The most varied costumes
and colors were to be seen. There were present soldiers of the prince
from different regiments, haiduks and Turkish grooms, Jews in black
cloaks, peasants, Armenians in violet caps, Tartars in fur coats. The
air was full of the sounds of different languages, of shouts, curses,
cries of children, barking of dogs, and bellowing of cattle.
The people greeted the approaching regiments joyfully, for they saw in
them assurance of safety and deliverance. Some went to the castle to
shout in honor of the prince and princess. The most varied reports
passed through the crowd,--one that the prince would stay in Lubni;
another that he was going far away to Lithuania, where it would be
necessary to follow him; a third, that he had already defeated
Hmelnitski. The prince, after the greeting with his wife was over, and
the announcement of the journey on the following day, looked with
anxiety on those crowds of wagons and people which were to follow the
army, and be fetters to his feet by lessening the speed of the march.
His only comfort was the thought that beyond Bragin, in a quieter
country, all would disperse, take refuge in various corners, and be a
burden no longer. The princess herself, with ladies in waiting and the
court, were to be sent to Vishnyovets, so that the prince without care
or hindrance might move into the fire with his whole force. The
preparations at the castle had been made already,--wagons were filled
with effects and valuables, supplies were collected, all persons of the
court were ready to take their seats in the wagons and on horseback at
a moment's notice. This readiness was the work of Princess Griselda,
who in calamity had as great a soul as her husband, and who, in truth,
was equal to him in energy and unbending temper.
The prince was pleased with what he saw, though his heart was rent at
the thought that he must leave the Lubni nest in which he had known so
much happiness and had won so much glory. This sorrow, too, was shared
by the whole army, the servants, and the entire court; for all felt
certain that when the prince would be far away in battle, the enemy
would not leave Lubni in peace, but would avenge on those beloved walls
all the blows which they had suffered at the hands of Yeremi. Cries and
lamentations were not lacking, especially among the women, and among
those whose children were born there, and those who were leaving the
graves of their parents behind.