"The Lord has wrought an evident miracle in her favor already," said
Zagloba to Volodyovski and Podbipienta, while sitting in Skshetuski's
quarters,--"an evident miracle, I say, in permitting me to wrest her
from the grasp of those dogs and to guard her the whole way. Let us
hope that he will be merciful to her and to us once more. If she is
only living! Something whispers to me that Bogun has carried her away;
for just think, the informants tell us that after Pulyan he has become
the second in command,--may the devils command him!--therefore he must
have been present at the taking of Bar."
"He might not have found her in that crowd of unfortunates, for twelve
thousand people were cut to pieces there," said Volodyovski.
"Oh, you don't know him! I would swear that he knew she was in Bar. It
cannot be but he has saved her from slaughter and taken her somewhere."
"You do not give us much consolation; for in Skshetuski's place, I
should rather have her perish than fall into his scoundrelly hands."
"The other is no consolation; for if she has perished, she was
disgraced."
"Desperation!" exclaimed Volodyovski.
"Desperation!" repeated Pan Longin.
Zagloba pulled his beard; at last he burst out: "May the mange devour
the whole race of curs! May the Pagans twist bow-strings out of their
entrails! God created all nations, but the devil created these sons of
Sodom. May barrenness strike the trash!"
"I did not know that sweet lady," said Volodyovski, gloomily, "but I
would that misfortune met me rather than her."
"Once in my life I saw her," said Pan Longin; "but when I think of her,
life is a burden of regret."
"You describe your own feelings," said Zagloba; "but what do you
think of me, who loved her like a father, and rescued her from that
misery,--what do you think of me?"
"And what do you think of Pan Yan?" asked Volodyovski.
The knights were in despair and sank into silence. Zagloba came to
himself first.
"Is there no help?" he asked.
"If there is no help, it is our duty to take vengeance," said
Volodyovski.
"Oh, if God would only give a general battle!" sighed Pan Longin. "It
is said that the Tartars have already crossed the river, and formed a
camp in the steppe."
"We cannot leave her," said Zagloba, "the poor thing, without
undertaking something for her rescue. I have battered my old bones
around the world enough already; it would be better for me now to lie
somewhere in a baker's shop quietly, for warmth's sake! But for her I
would go again even to Stamboul; I would put on a peasant's coat again
and take a lute, on which I cannot look without disgust."
"You are fertile in stratagems; think of something," said Podbipienta.
"A great many plans have gone through my head already. If Prince
Dominik had half as many, Hmelnitski would be disembowelled and hanging
by the legs on a gibbet. I have already spoken of this to Skshetuski,
but you can say nothing to him at present. Sorrow has seared him, and
drags him down more than sickness. You see to it that his reason is not
disturbed. It often happens that from great grief the mind, like wine,
changes until it is completely soured."
"Yes, yes!" answered Pan Longin.
Volodyovski started up impatiently, and asked: "What are your plans
then?"
"My plans? Well, first we must find out whether she--poor dear, may the
angels guard her from every evil!--is alive yet; and this we can do in
two ways,--either we shall find among the Prince's Cossacks trusty and
sure men, who will undertake to escape to the Cossacks, mingle among
Bogun's men, and find out something from them--"
"I have Russian dragoons," interrupted Volodyovski, "I will find such
men."
"Wait a moment!--or catch an informant from those scoundrels who took
Bar; maybe they know something. They all look at Bogun as at a rainbow,
because his devilish daring pleases them; they sing songs about
him,--may their throats rot!--and one talks to another about what he
did and what he didn't do. If he has carried off our unfortunate lady,
then it is not hidden from them."
"Well, we can send men to inquire, and to catch an informant also,"
remarked Podbipienta.
"You have struck the point. If we discover that she is alive, that is
the chief thing. Now, since you wish sincerely to help Pan Yan, put
yourself under my orders, for I have most experience. We will disguise
ourselves as peasants, and try to find out where he has concealed her,
and once we know that, my head for it, we shall get her. I and Pan Yan
risk most, for Bogun knows us, and if he should catch us, our own
mothers wouldn't recognize us afterward, but he hasn't seen either of
you."
"He has seen me," said Podbipienta, "but that is nothing."
"Maybe too the Lord will give him into our hands," said Volodyovski.
"Well, I don't want to look at him," said Zagloba; "may the hangman
look at him! We must begin carefully, so as not to spoil the whole
undertaking. It cannot be that he alone knows of her concealment, and I
assure you, gentlemen, that it is safer to inquire of some one else."
"Maybe too the men whom we send out will discover. If the prince only
permits, I will select trusty men, and send them even to-morrow."
"The prince will permit it; but that they will discover anything, I
doubt. Listen, gentlemen! another method occurs to me,--instead of
sending out people or seizing informants, to disguise ourselves as
peasants and start without delay."
"Oh, that is impossible!" cried Volodyovski.
"Why impossible?"
"Don't you know military service? When a body of troops is mustered
_nemine excepto_, it is sacred. Even if his father and mother were
dying, a soldier would not ask leave of absence, for before battle this
would be the greatest deed of disgrace which a soldier could commit.
After a general engagement, when the enemy is defeated it is
permissible, but not before. And consider, Skshetuski at first wanted
to rush off, fly away, and rescue her, but he did nothing of the kind.
He has a reputation, the prince is fond of him; and he made no request,
for he knows his duty. Ours is public duty, and this is a private
matter. I do not know how it is in some other land, though I think it
is the same everywhere; but with the prince our voevoda it is an
unheard of thing to ask leave before a battle, especially for officers!
Though Skshetuski's soul were rent, he would not go with such a
proposition to the prince."
"He is a Roman and a rigorist, I know," said Zagloba; "but if some one
should give the prince a hint, maybe he would grant permission of his
own instance, to Skshetuski and to you."
"That would not enter his mind. The prince has the whole Commonwealth
on his mind. Do you think that now, when there is a rush of the most
important affairs, affecting the whole nation, he would take up any
private question? And even if he should give a permission unasked,
which is unlikely, as God is in heaven, no one of us would leave the
camp at present; for we too owe our first service to our unhappy
country, not to ourselves."
"I am aware of that. I am acquainted with service from of old;
therefore I told you that this method passed through my head, but I did
not say that it stayed there. Besides, to tell the truth, while the
power of the rabble stands untouched we could not do much; but when
they are defeated and hunted down,--when their only thought will be to
save their own throats,--we can go among them boldly and get
information more easily. Oh, if the rest of the army would only come up
at once! If it does not, we shall surely die of weariness at this
Cholganski Kamen. If our prince had the command, we should be moving
now; but Prince Dominik, it is evident, stops often for refreshments,
since he is not here yet."
"He is expected in three days."
"God grant as soon as possible! But Konyetspolski will be here to-day?"
"Yes."
At that moment the door opened, and Skshetuski entered. His features
seemed as if chiselled out of stone by pain, such calm and cold came
from them. It was strange to look on that young face, as severe and
dignified as though a smile had never appeared on it; and it would have
been easy to imagine that if death were to strike it there would be
little change. Skshetuski's beard had grown half-way to his breast, in
which beard, among hairs black as the raven's wing, here and there were
winding silver threads. His comrades and trusty friends guessed at his
suffering, for he did not exhibit it. He was self-possessed, apparently
calm, and almost more diligent, in his military service than usual, and
entirely occupied with the impending war.
"We have been speaking of your misfortune, which is at the same time
our own," said Zagloba; "for God is our witness that we can console
ourselves with nothing. This, however, would be a barren sentiment if
we were to aid you only in shedding tears; therefore we have determined
to shed blood also,--to rescue the unfortunate lady, if she still walks
upon the earth."
"God reward you!" said Skshetuski.
"We will go with you even to Hmelnitski's camp," said Volodyovski.
"God reward you!" repeated Skshetuski.
"We know that you have sworn to seek her, living or dead; therefore we
are ready, even to-day."
Skshetuski, having seated himself on a bench, fixed his eyes on the
ground and made no answer. At last anger got control of Zagloba. "Does
he intend to give her up?" thought he. "If he does, God be with him! I
see there is neither gratitude nor memory in the world. But men will be
found yet to rescue her, or I shall have to yield my last breath."
Silence reigned in the room, interrupted only by the sighs of Pan
Longin. Meanwhile little Volodyovski approached Skshetuski and shook
him by the shoulder.
"Where are you from now?" asked he.
"From the prince."
"What news?"
"I am going out on a reconnoissance to-night."
"Far?"
"To Yarmolintsi, if the road is clear."
Volodyovski looked at Zagloba, and they understood each other at once.
"That is toward Bar," muttered Zagloba.
"We will go with you."
"You must go for permission, and ask if the prince has not appointed
other work for you."
"We will go together. I have also something else to ask."
They rose and went. The quarters of the prince were some distance away,
at the other end of the camp. In the antechamber they found a crowd of
officers from different squadrons; for forces were marching from every
direction to Cholganski Kamen. All were hurrying to offer their
services to the prince. Volodyovski had to wait some time before he and
Podbipienta were permitted to stand before the face of their chief; but
to make up for this, the prince gave them permission at once to go, and
to send out some Russian dragoons, who, feigning desertion from the
camp, should escape to Bogun's Cossacks and inquire about the princess.
To Volodyovski he said,--
"I will find various duties for Skshetuski myself, for I see that
suffering has settled in him and is eating him up. I am unspeakably
sorry for him. Has he said nothing to you about her?"
"But little. At first he wanted to go at random among the Cossacks, but
he remembered that the squadron is mustered in full,--that we are at
the service of the country, which must be saved before aught else;
therefore he did not appear before you at all. God alone knows what is
taking place within him."
"And is trying him severely. Watch over him; for I see that you are a
trusty friend of his."
Volodyovski bowed low and went out; for at that moment the voevoda of
Kieff entered with the starosta of Stobnik and Pan Denhoff, and a
number of other military dignitaries.
"Well, what is the result?" asked Pan Yan.
"I go with you; but first I must go to my squadron, for I have a number
of men to send out."
"Let us go together."
They went; and with them Podbipienta, Zagloba, and old Zatsvilikhovski,
who was on the way to his squadron. Not far from the tents of
Volodyovski's dragoons they met Pan Lashch, walking, or rather
staggering, at the head of a number of nobles, for he and his comrades
were completely drunk. At the sight of this Zagloba sighed. The two men
had fallen in love with each other at Konstantinoff, because, from a
certain point of view, they had natures as much alike as two drops of
water. For Pan Lashch, though a formidable knight, and terrible against
Pagans as few men were terrible, was also a notorious drinker and
feaster, who loved, above all things, to pass the time free from
battle, prayers, attacks, and quarrels, in the circle of men like
Zagloba, to drink with might and main, and listen to jokes. He was a
roysterer on a grand scale, who himself alone had caused so much
disturbance, had so many times risen up against the law, that in any
other State he would have lost his life long before. More sentences
than one were hanging over him, but even in time of peace he troubled
himself little about those; and now, in time of war, everything passed
into forgetfulness all the more. He joined the prince at Rosolovtsi,
and had rendered no small service at Konstantinoff; but since they had
halted at Zbaraj he had become quite unendurable, through the tumults
which he raised. No one had given regular count or calculation to the
wine that Zagloba had drunk at his quarters, or the stories he had
told, to the great delight of the host, who urged him to come every
day.
But since the news of the taking of Bar, Zagloba had become gloomy,
lost his humor and vivacity, and no longer visited Pan Lashch. Pan
Lashch, indeed, thought that the jovial nobleman had gone somewhere
from the army, when suddenly he saw him. He extended his hand, and
said,--
"My greetings to you. Why don't you come to see me? What are you
doing?"
"I am attending Skshetuski," answered Zagloba, gloomily.
The colonel did not like Skshetuski on account of his dignity, and
nicknamed him "The Grave." He knew of his misfortune perfectly well,
for he was present at the banquet in Zbaraj when news of the capture of
Bar came in. But being of unrestrained nature, and drunk at the moment,
he did not respect human suffering, and seizing the lieutenant by the
button, inquired,--
"So, then, you are crying for a girl? And was she pretty, hei?"
"Let me go, please," said Skshetuski.
"Wait!"
"On my way to service you cannot command me. I am free of you."
"Wait!" said Lashch, with the stubbornness of a drunken man. "You have
service, but I have none. There is no one to command me here." Then
lowering his voice, he repeated the question, "But she was pretty,
hei?"
The lieutenant frowned, "I tell you, sir, better not touch a sore
spot."
"Not touch? Never fear! If she was pretty, she is alive."
Skshetuski's face was covered with a deathly pallor, but he restrained
himself, and said: "I hope I shall not forget with whom I am talking--"
Lashch stuck out his eyes. "What! Are you threatening me, threatening
me,--for one little wench?"
"Go your way!" shouted old Zatsvilikhovski, trembling with anger.
"Ah, sneaks, rabble, lackeys!" roared the commander. "Gentlemen, to
your sabres!"
Drawing his own, he sprang at Skshetuski; but that moment the steel
whistled in Skshetuski's hand, and the sabre of the commander hopped
like a bird through the air, and staggered by the blow, he fell his
whole length on the ground.
Skshetuski did not strike again. He became pale as a corpse, as if
stunned, and that moment a tumult arose. From one side rushed in the
soldiers of the commander; from the other Volodyovski's dragoons
hurried like bees from a hive. Many hastened up, not knowing what the
matter was; sabres began to rattle; any moment the tumult might have
changed into a general battle. Happily Lashch's comrades, seeing that
Vishnyevetski's men were arriving every moment, made sober from fear,
seized the commander and started off with him.
In truth, if Lashch had had to do with other and less disciplined
forces, they would have cut him into small pieces with their swords;
but old Zatsvilikhovski, recollecting himself, merely cried, "Stop!"
and the sabres were sheathed. Nevertheless there was excitement
throughout the whole camp, and the echo of the tumult reached the ears
of the prince just as Pan Kushel, who was on duty, rushed into the room
in which the prince was holding counsel with the voevoda of Kieff, the
starosta of Stobnik, and Pan Denhoff, and shouted,--
"Your Highness, the soldiers are fighting with sabres!"
At that moment Lashch, pale and beside himself with rage, but sober,
shot in like a bomb.
"Your Highness, justice! It is in this camp as with Hmelnitski,--no
respect for blood or rank. Dignitaries of the Crown are slashed with
sabres! If your Highness will not mete out justice, will not punish
with death, then I myself will mete it out."
The prince sprang up from the table. "What has happened? Who has
attacked you?"
"Thy officer, Skshetuski."
Genuine astonishment was reflected on the face of the prince.
"Skshetuski?"
Suddenly the doors were opened, and in walked Zatsvilikhovski. "Your
Highness, I was a witness," said he.
"I have not come here to give reasons, but to demand punishment," cried
Lashch.
The prince turned and fastened his eyes upon him. "Stop! stop!" said
he, quietly and with emphasis.
There was something so terrible in his eyes and in his hushed voice
that Lashch, though notorious for insolence, became silent at once, as
if he had lost his speech, and the spectators grew pale.
"Speak!" said the prince to Zatsvilikhovski.
Zatsvilikhovski described the whole affair,--how the commander, led by
an ignoble sentiment, unworthy not only of a dignitary but of a noble,
began to blaspheme against the suffering of Pan Skshetuski, and then
rushed upon him with a sabre; with moderation, in truth unusual to his
age, the lieutenant had used his weapon only to ward off the aggressor.
Finally the old man ended his story thus,--
"And since, as your Highness knows, up to my seventieth year lying has
not stained my lips, nor will it while I live, I could not under oath
change one word in my story."
The prince knew that Zatsvilikhovski's words were equal to gold, and
besides he knew Lashch too well. He gave no answer then; he merely took
a pen and began to write. When he had finished he looked at the
commander. "Justice will be meted out to you," said he.
The commander opened his mouth and wished to speak, but somehow the
words did not come to him; he merely put his hand on his hip, bowed,
and went out proudly from the room.
"Jelenski," said the prince, "you will give this letter to Pan
Skshetuski."
Volodyovski, who had not left the lieutenant, was astonished somewhat
at seeing the messenger come in, for he was sure that they would have
to appear at once before the prince. The messenger left the letter and
went out in silence. When he had read it Skshetuski handed the letter
to his friend. "Read!" said he.
Volodyovski glanced at it, and shouted: "Promotion to the head of the
regiment!" And seizing Skshetuski by the neck, he kissed him on both
cheeks.
A full lieutenant in the hussar regiment was almost a military
dignitary. The captain of that one in which Skshetuski served was the
prince himself, and the titular lieutenant was Pan Sufchinski, of
Senchi, a man already old and out of service. Skshetuski had long
performed the active duties of both offices,--a condition of service
often found in regiments like his, in which the first two places were
not infrequently merely titular offices. Captain in the royal regiment
was the king himself; in that of the primate, the primate. The
lieutenant and captain in both were high dignitaries of the court. They
were actually commanded by deputies, who on this account were called in
ordinary speech colonels and lieutenants. Such an actual lieutenant or
colonel was Skshetuski. But between the actual filling of the office,
between the dignity accorded in current speech and the real one, there
was still a great difference. In the present instance, by virtue of his
appointment, Skshetuski became one of the first officers of the prince.
But while his friends were overflowing with joy, congratulating him on
his new honor, his face did not change for a moment, but remained just
the same, severe and stone-like; for there were not offices nor
dignities in the world that could brighten it. He rose, however, and
went to thank the prince.
Meanwhile little Volodyovski walked up and down in his quarters rubbing
his hands. "Well, well," he said, "appointed lieutenant in the hussar
squadron in youthful years. I think this has happened to no one
before."
"If God would only return his happiness!" said Zagloba.
"That is it, that is it. Did you see that he did not quiver?"
"He would prefer resigning," said Pan Longin.
"Gentlemen," sighed Zagloba, "what wonder! I would give these five
fingers of mine for her, though I captured a banner with them."
"Sure enough."
"But Pan Sufchinski must be dead," remarked Volodyovski.
"He is surely dead."
"Who will take the lieutenancy then? The banneret is a stripling, and
performs the duties only since the battle at Konstantinoff."
This question remained unanswered; but the colonel himself, Skshetuski,
brought the answer to it when he returned.
"My dear sir," said he to Pan Podbipienta, "the prince has appointed
you lieutenant."
"Oh, my God, my God!" groaned Pan Longin, placing his hands together as
if in prayer.
"He might as well have appointed his Livonian mare," muttered Zagloba.
"Well, and the scouting-party?" asked Volodyovski,
"We shall go without delay," answered Skshetuski.
"Has the prince given orders to take many troops?"
"One Cossack and one Wallachian squadron, five hundred men altogether."
"Hallo! that is an expedition, not a party. If that is the case, it is
time for us to take the road."
"To the road, to the road!" repeated Zagloba. "Maybe God will help us
to get some tidings."
Two hours later, precisely at sunset, the four friends rode out from
Cholganski Kamen toward the south. About the same time Lashch left the
camp with his men. A multitude of knights from different regiments
witnessed his departure, not sparing shouts and sneers. The officers
crowded around Pan Kushel, who told the reason why the commander was
dismissed, and how it happened.
"I delivered the order of the prince," said Kushel; "and you may
believe it was a perilous mission, gentlemen, for when he read it he
began to bellow like a bullock when branded with iron. He was rushing
at me with a sword,--a wonder he didn't hit me; but it appears that he
saw Pan Koritski's Germans surrounding his quarters, and my dragoons
with spears in their hands. Then he began to shout: 'All right! all
right! I'll go away, since they drive me off. I'll go to Prince
Dominik, who will receive me thankfully. I will not,' said he, 'serve
with minstrels; but as I am Lashch, I will have vengeance, as I am
Lashch; and from that sneak,' said he, 'I must have satisfaction!' I
thought he would stifle from venom; he slashed the table from rage time
after time. And I tell you, gentlemen, that I am not sure some evil
will not come on Skshetuski, for there is no trifling with the
commander. He is a stubborn and proud man, who has never yet allowed an
offence to pass. He is daring, and a dignitary besides."
"What can touch Skshetuski under the protection of the prince?" asked
one of the officers. "The commander, though ready for everything, will
be wary of such a hand."
Meanwhile the lieutenant, knowing nothing of the vows which the
commander had made against him, withdrew at the head of his party
farther and farther from the camp, turning his way toward Ojigovtsi to
the Bug and Medvedovka. Though September had withered the leaves on the
trees, the night was calm and warm as in July; for such, indeed, was
that whole year, in which there was scarcely any winter, and in spring
everything was in bloom at a time when in former years deep snow was
still lying on the steppes. After a rather moist summer, the first
months of autumn were dry and mild, with clear days and bright
moonlight nights. They travelled along the easy road, not taking
special care, for they were still too near the camp to be threatened by
any attack. They rode briskly; Skshetuski ahead with a few horsemen,
and behind him Volodyovski, Zagloba, and Podbipienta.
"Look, gentlemen, how the light of the moon shines on that hill!"
whispered Zagloba. "You might swear that it is day. It is said that
only in time of war are there such nights, so that spirits may leave
their bodies without knocking their heads against trees in the dark,
like sparrows against the cross-pieces in a barn, and more easily find
the way. Today is Friday, the day of the Saviour, in which poisonous
vapors do not issue from the ground, and evil powers have no approach
to men. I feel somehow easier, and hope takes possession of me."
"That is because we are now on the way and will undertake some rescue."
"The worst thing, in grief, is to sit in one place. When you get on
horseback, all your despair flies down from the shaking, till you shake
it off completely and entirely."
"I do not believe," whispered Volodyovski, "that you can shake off
everything in that way,--for example, love, which clings to the heart
like a wood-tick."
"If love is genuine," said Pan Longin, "then even if you should wrestle
with it as with a bear, it would throw you."
Having said this, Podbipienta relieved his swollen breast with a sigh
which was like the puff of a blacksmith's bellows; but little
Volodyovski raised his eyes to heaven, as if seeking among the stars
that one which was shining on Princess Barbara.
The horses began to snort in the whole company, and the soldiers
answered, "Health, health!" Then all was silent till some melancholy
voice began to sing in the rear ranks:
"You are going to the war, my boy,
You are going to the war!
Your nights will be cold,
And your days will be hot--"
"Old soldiers say that horses always snort as a good omen, as my
deceased father used to tell me," said Volodyovski.
"Something whispers, as it were, in my ear, that we are not going for
nothing," answered Zagloba.
"God grant that some consolation enter the heart of the lieutenant!"
sighed Pan Longin.
Zagloba began to nod and turn his head like a man who is unable to
conquer some idea, and at last said,--
"Something altogether different is in my head, and I must get rid of
the thought, for I cannot endure it. Have you noticed that for some
time Skshetuski--I am not sure, maybe he dissembles--but still he, as
it were, thinks less than any of us of saving that unfortunate lady."
"Nonsense!" said Volodyovski. "It is his disposition never to confess
anything to any one. He has never been different."
"Yes, that so far as it goes; but just remember, when we gave him hope,
he said, 'God reward you,' both to me and to you, as coldly as if it
had been some common affair. And God is witness, on his part that was
black ingratitude; for what that poor woman has wept and grieved for
him could not be inscribed on an ox-hide. I have seen it with my own
eyes."
Volodyovski shook his head. "It cannot be that he has given her up,
though it is true that the first time when that devil seized her from
him in Rozlogi, he despaired so that we feared he would lose his mind;
but now he shows more reflection. If God has poured peace into his
soul, it is better. As true friends, it is our duty to be comforted by
this."
Volodyovski then spurred his horse and sped on toward Pan Yan, but
Zagloba rode for some time in silence by the side of Podbipienta.
"Are you not of my opinion, that if there were no love affairs a power
of evil would cease in the world?"
"Whatever God has destined to any one, will not avoid him," answered
the Lithuanian.
"But you never answer to the point. That is one affair, and this is
another. Who caused the destruction of Troy, hei? And isn't this war
about fair locks? Hmelnitski wanted Chaplinski's woman, or Chaplinski
wanted Hmelnitski's; and we are breaking our necks on account of their
sinful desires."
"Those are dishonorable loves; but there are honorable ones, through
which the glory of God is increased."
"Now you have hit the point better. But are you going soon to work in
that vineyard yourself? I hear that a scarf is bound to you for the
war."
"Ah, brother! brother!"
"But three heads are in the way, are they?"
"Ah, that's the truth!"
"Well, I tell you: give a good blow, and cut them off at once from
Hmelnitski, the Khan, and Bogun."
"Oh, if they would only stand in a row!" said Pan Longin, in a voice
full of emotion, raising his eyes to heaven.
Meanwhile Volodyovski rode by Skshetuski, and looked from under his
helmet in silence at his pallid face, till at last their stirrups
touched.
"Yan," said he, "it is bad for you to forget yourself."
"I am not forgetting myself, I am praying," answered Skshetuski.
"That is a holy and praiseworthy thing; but you are not a monk, to be
occupied in prayer alone."
Pan Yan turned his suffering face slowly to Volodyovski, and inquired
with a dull voice, full of deathly resignation: "Tell me, Michael, what
is left to me now but a monk's habit?"
"It remains to you to rescue her," answered Volodyovski.
"I will do that, if it takes my last breath. But even if I should find
her alive, will it not be too late? Preserve me, O God, for I can think
of everything, only not of that, God save my reason! I desire nothing
more than to rescue her from those infamous hands and let her find an
asylum, such as I myself shall seek. Evidently it was not the will of
God. Let me pray, Michael, and don't touch my bleeding wound."
Volodyovski's heart was pressed. He wished still to console his friend,
to speak of hope; but the words would not pass his lips, and they rode
on in dull silence. Only the lips of Skshetuski moved rapidly in
prayer, with which he wished evidently to drive away terrible thoughts.
But the little knight was afraid when he looked at that face in the
moonlight; for it seemed to him altogether like the face of a monk,
stern, emaciated by fasting and mortification. And then that voice
began again to sing, in the rear,--
"You will find when the war is over, poor fellow,
You will find when the war is over,
Everything empty at home,
And your skin full of wounds."