The sun was high when the princess opened her eyes from sleep on the
following day. Her glance rested first on the ceiling, and remained
there long; then it took in the whole room. In her breast returning
consciousness struggled still with the remnants of sleep and visions.
On her face were depicted wonder and disquiet. Where is she, whence did
she come, and in whose power is she? Is she dreaming yet, or is she
awake? What means the splendor with which she is surrounded? What has
happened to her?
At that moment the awful scenes of the taking of Bar rose before her as
if in life. She remembered everything,--the slaughter of thousands of
nobles, townspeople, priests, nuns, and children; the faces of the mob
smeared in blood, their necks and heads wound around with the still
steaming entrails, the drunken uproar, that day of judgment for the
ruined town; finally the appearance of Bogun and her seizure. She
remembered also how in a moment of despair she had fallen upon a knife
held by her own hand, and the cold sweat stood on her temples. It was
evident that the knife slipped along her shoulder, for she suffers only
a little pain; but immediately she feels that she is alive, that
strength and health are returning to her, and finally she remembers
that she has been borne a long time somewhere in a swing. But where is
she now? In some castle, is she saved, rescued, out of danger? And
again her eyes wandered around the room. The windows in it were small,
square, as in a peasant's cottage, and the world outside could not be
seen through them; for instead of panes o£ glass, they were fitted with
pieces of white membrane. Was it really a peasant's cottage? No, for
the unbounded luxury within bears witness against that. Instead of a
ceiling over her head was an enormous piece of purple silk on which
were embroidered golden stars and a moon; the walls were entirely hung
in brocade; on the floor lay a many-colored carpet, covered as with
living flowers. In front of the fireplace was a Persian rug; golden
fringes, silks, velvets, everywhere, from the walls of the ceiling to
the pillows on which her head is reposing. The bright light of day,
penetrating the window membranes, lighted up the interior, but was lost
in the purple, dark violet, and sapphire colors of the velvet, forming
a kind of enchanted rainbow darkness. The princess marvelled, did not
believe her eyes. Was this some witchery, or had not the troops of
Yeremi rescued her from the hands of Cossacks and put her away in one
of the prince's castles?
She clasped her hands. "Oh, Holy Most Pure! grant that the first face
to appear at the door shall be the face of my guardian and friend!"
Then through the heavy fringed bed-curtain came to her the flowing
sound of a distant lute, and at the same time a voice began to
accompany with the familiar song,--
"Oh, this loving
Is worse than sickness!
Sickness I can live through,
And grow well again;
But my faithful loving
I cannot part with while I live."
The princess raised herself, and the longer she listened the wider
stared her eyes from terror. At last she screamed and fell as if dead
on the cushions. She recognized the voice of Bogun.
Her scream passed evidently through the walls of the chamber; for after
a while the heavy curtain rustled, and the chief himself appeared on
the threshold.
Kurtsevichovna covered her eyes with her hands, and her whitened and
quivering lips repeated, as if in a fever: "Jesus, Mary! Jesus, Mary!"
And yet the sight which so terrified her would have rejoiced the eyes
of more maidens than one, for there was a blaze from the apparel and
the countenance of the young hero. The diamond buttons of his uniform
glittered like stars in heaven, his dagger and sabre were covered with
precious stones, his coat of silver cloth and his scarlet kontush
doubled the beauty of his brunette face; and he stood before her,
lithe, dark-browed, magnificent,--the beauty of all the Ukraine heroes.
But his eyes were in mist, like stars curtained by haze, and he looked
on her with obedience; and seeing that fear did not leave her face, he
began to speak in a low, sad voice,--
"Have no fear, Princess!"
"Where am I? where am I?" asked she, looking at him through her
fingers.
"In a safe place, far from war. Fear not, my dear soul! I brought you
here from Bar, so that no harm might come to you from man or war. The
Cossacks spared no one in Bar; you alone came out alive."
"What are you doing here? Why do you pursue me?"
"I pursue you! Oh, merciful God!" And the chief extended his arms as a
man who is confronted by a great injustice.
"I fear you terribly," she said.
"And why do you fear? If you say so, I shall not move from the door. I
am your slave; I will sit here at the door and look into your eyes.
Evil I do not wish you. Why do you hate me? Oh, merciful God! you
thrust a knife into your body at the sight of me, though you have known
me long, and knew that I was going to defend you. You know I am not a
stranger to you, but a heartfelt friend; and you stabbed yourself with
a knife."
The pale cheeks of the princess were suddenly suffused with blood. "I
preferred death to disgrace; and I swear, if you do not respect me, I
will kill myself, even if I were to lose my soul!"
The eyes of the maiden flashed fire, and the chief knew that there was
no trifling with the princely blood of the Kurtsevichi; for in her
frenzy she would carry out her threat, and a second time would point
the knife with more success. He made no answer, therefore, merely
advanced a couple of steps toward the window, and sitting on bench
covered with gold brocade, hung his head.
Silence lasted for a time.
"Be at rest," said he. "While my head is clear, while Mother Gorailka
does not heat my brain, you are for me like an image in the church. But
since I found you in Bar I have ceased to drink. Before that I drank
and drank, drowning my sorrow with Mother Gorailka. What could I do?
But now I take to my mouth neither sweet wine nor spirits."
The princess was silent.
"I will look on you," he continued, "comfort my eyes with your face,
then go."
"Give me back my liberty!" said she.
"But are you in captivity? You are mistress here. And where do you want
to go? The Kurtsevichi have perished, fire has devoured villages and
towns; the prince is not in Lubni, he is marching against Hmelnitski
and Hmelnitski against him; war is everywhere, blood is flowing; every
place is filled with Cossacks and Tartars and soldiers. Who will have
sympathy and respect for you? Who will defend you, if not I?"
The princess raised her eyes, for she remembered that there was another
in the world who would give her protection, sympathy, and defence; but
she would not speak his name, so as not to rouse the fierce lion. Deep
sorrow therefore pressed her heart. Was he for whom her soul was
yearning still alive? While in Bar she knew that he was, for
immediately after the departure of Zagloba she heard Skshetuski's name
coupled with the victories of the terrible prince. But from that time
how many days and nights had passed, how many battles might have been
fought, how many perils have reached him. News of him could come to her
then only through Bogun, of whom she neither wished nor dared to
inquire.
Her head then dropped on the cushions. "Am I to remain a prisoner
here?" asked she, with a groan. "What have I done to you, that you
follow me like misfortune?"
The Cossack raised his head, and began to speak so quietly that
scarcely could he be heard.
"What have you done to me? I know not; but this I do know, that if I am
misfortune to you, you too are misfortune to me. If I had not loved
you, I should have been free as the wind in the field, free in heart
and in soul, and full of glory as was Konashevich Sahaidachny himself.
Your face is my misfortune, your eyes are my misfortune; neither
freedom is dear to me, nor Cossack glory! What were beauties to me,
till from being a child you had grown to be a woman? Once I captured a
galley with maidens the most beautiful, for they were on the way to the
Sultan; and no one of them touched my heart. The Cossack brothers
played with them; then I ordered a stone to the neck of each, and into
the water they went. I feared no man, I minded nothing. I went with war
against the Pagan. I took booty, and like a prince in his castle was I
in the steppe. And to-day what am I? I sit here; I am a slave. I crave
a kind word from you and cannot receive it; I have never heard it, even
when your aunt and your cousins gave you to me. Oh, if you, girl, had
been different to me, then what has come to pass would not have been! I
should not have stricken down your cousins, I should not have joined
fraternal hands with rebellion and peasants; but through you I have
lost my mind. If you had wished to lead me anywhere, you could have led
me where you liked, and I should have given you my blood, my soul. Now
I am steeped in blood of nobles; but in old times I killed only
Tartars, and brought you booty, that you might be clothed in gold and
jewels like cherubim of the Lord. Why did you not love me, then? Oh, it
is heavy and sad at my heart! I cannot live with you nor without you,
nor far away nor near you, neither on the mountain nor in the valley,
my dove, my precious heart! But forgive me that I came for you to
Rozlogi in Cossack style, with sabre and fire; but I was drunk with
anger at the princes, and I drank gorailka on the way,--unhappy outlaw!
But afterward, when you escaped me, I howled like a dog, and my wounds
tortured me, and I could not eat. I begged death to take me; and you
want me to yield you now, to lose you a second time, my dove, my
heart!"
The chief stopped, for his voice broke in his throat, and he began to
groan. Helena's face grew red and pale by turns. The more of
measureless love there was in Bogun's words, the greater the gulf which
opened before her, bottomless, and without hope of rescue.
The Cossack rested awhile, regained self-command, and continued,--
"Ask what you like. See how the room is decorated! This is mine; this
is booty from Bar, which I brought for you on six horses. Ask what you
wish,--yellow gold, shining garments, bright jewels, willing slaves. I
am rich, I have enough of my own; and Hmelnitski will not spare
treasures on me, and Krívonos will not spare them. You will be like
Princess Vishnyevetski. I will win castles for you, give you half the
Ukraine; for though I am a Cossack, not a noble, I am a bunchuk ataman.
Under me are ten thousand men,--more than Prince Yeremi commands. Ask
what you like, only not to flee from me,--only stay with me and love
me, O my dove!"
The princess raised herself on the cushions. She was very pale, but her
sweet and marvellous face expressed such unbroken will, pride, and
power that the dove was most like an eagle at that moment.
"If you are waiting for my answer," said she, "then know that if I had
even a lifetime to groan out in captivity with you, never, never should
I love you, God be my aid!"
Bogun struggled with himself a moment. "Do not tell me such things,"
said he, with a hoarse voice.
"Do not speak to me of your love; it brings me shame and offence. I am
not for you."
The chief rose. "And for whom, then, are you, Princess Kurtsevichovna?
And whose would you have been in Bar but for me?"
"Whoso saves my life to give me shame and captivity is my enemy, not my
friend."
"And do you suppose that the peasants would have killed you? The
thought is terrible."
"The knife would have killed me, but you wrenched it from me."
"And I will not give it up, for you must be mine," burst out the
Cossack.
"Never! I prefer death."
"You must and will be."
"Never!"
"Well, if you were not wounded, after what you have told me, I should
send my Cossacks to Rashkoff to-day and have a monk brought here, and
to-morrow I should be your husband. Then what? It is a sin not to love
your husband and fondle him. Ai! you high mighty lady, the love of a
Cossack is an offence, an anger to you. And who are you that I am for
you a peasant? Where are your castles and boyars and troops? At what
are you angry,--at what are you offended? I took you in war; you are a
captive. If I were a peasant, I should teach you reason on the white
shoulders with the whip, and without a priest would have enough of your
beauty,--if I were a peasant, not a knight!"
"Angels of heaven, save me!" whispered the princess.
But in the mean while greater and greater fury rose to the face of
Bogun, and anger seized him by the hair.
"I know," said he, "why you're offended, why you resist me. You
preserve for another your maiden modesty. But in vain, as I live, as I
am a Cossack! Nakedness[15] the noble! The insincere, miserable Pole
barely saw you, merely turned with you in the dance,--death to
him!--and took you captive altogether. Then let the Cossack suffer,
break his head. But I will reach this Pole, and I will order him torn
out of his skin, will nail him up. Do you know that Hmelnitski is
marching on the Poles, and I go with him; and I will find your dove
even under the ground, and when I return I will throw his head at your
feet as a present."
Helena did not hear the last words of the ataman. Pain, anger, wounds,
emotion, terror, took her strength; an immeasurable weakness came upon
all her limbs, her eyes and her thoughts grew dark, and she fell into a
swoon.
The chief stood some time, pale from anger, with foam on his lips. Then
he saw the lifeless head hanging back powerless, and from his lips went
out a roar almost unearthly. "It is all over with her! Horpyna!
Horpyna!" And he threw himself on the floor.
The giantess rushed into the room with all speed. "What is the matter?"
"Help! help!" cried Bogun. "I have killed her, my soul, my light!"
"What! Did you scold her?"
"I have killed her, I have killed her!" groaned he; and he wrung his
hands over his head.
But Horpyna, approaching the princess, soon discovered that it was not
death, but a deep faint, and putting Bogun outside the door, began to
assist her. The princess opened her eyes after a time.
"My dear, there is nothing the matter with you," said the enchantress.
"You were frightened at him, I see, and darkness settled on you; but
the darkness will pass and health will come. You are like a nut, my
girl; you have long to live in the world and enjoy happiness."
"Who are you?" asked the princess, with a weak voice.
"I? Your servant, for he so ordered it."
"Where am I?"
"In the Devil's Glen. A pure wilderness here; you will see no one but
him."
"Do you live here?"
"My farm is here. I am Dontsovna. My brother is a colonel under Bogun;
he leads young heroes, and I stay here, and will care for you in this
golden chamber. From a cottage it has become a bower, so that light
gleams from it. He has brought all this for you."
Helena looked at the lively face of the young woman, and it seemed to
her full of sincerity.
"But will you be good to me?"
The white teeth of the young witch gleamed in a smile. "I shall; why
shouldn't I? But do you be good also to the ataman. He is a falcon, he
is a glorious hero, he will--"
Here the witch bent to the ear of Helena, whispered something, then
burst into laughter.
"Be off!" screamed the princess.