"Picture to yourself," said Volodyovski to Pan Longin a few days later,
"that that man has changed in one hour as if he had grown ten years
older. So joyous was he, so talkative, so full of tricks, that he
surpassed Ulysses himself. Now he does not let two words out of his
lips, but dozes away whole days, complains of old age, and speaks as in
a dream. I knew that he loved her, but I did not think that he loved
her to this degree."
"What is there wonderful in that?" answered the Lithuanian, sighing.
"He was the more attached to her that he snatched her from the hands of
Bogun, and went through so many dangers and adventures in the flight.
While there was hope his wit was exerted in inventions, and he kept on
foot; but now he has really nothing to do in the world, being alone and
without heart for anything."
"I tried to drink with him, hoping that drink would restore his former
vigor, but in vain. He drinks, but does not think as before, does not
talk about his exploits; only becomes sensitive, and then hangs his
head on his breast and goes to sleep. I do not know if even Pan Yan is
in greater despair than he."
"It is an unspeakable loss, for withal he was a great knight. Let us go
to him, Pan Michael. He had the habit of scoffing at me and teasing me
on every occasion; perhaps the desire will take him now. My God, how
people change! He was such a gladsome man."
"Let us go," said Volodyovski. "It is already late; but it is most
grievous for him in the evening,--for dozing all day, he is unable to
sleep at night."
Thus conversing, they betook themselves to the quarters of Zagloba,
whom they found sitting under the open window with his head resting on
his hand. It was late; every movement in the castle had ceased; only
the sentinels answered in prolonged tones, and in the thickets
separating the castle from the town the nightingales brought out their
passionate trills, whistling, smacking, and clapping as quickly as fall
the drops in a spring shower. Through the open window came in the warm
breeze of May and the clear rays of the moon, which lighted the
downcast face of Zagloba and the bald crown bent toward his breast.
"Good-evening!" said the two knights.
"Good-evening!" answered Zagloba.
"Why have you forgotten yourself before the window instead of going to
bed?" asked Volodyovski.
Zagloba sighed. "It is not a question of sleep with me," said he, with
a drawling voice. "A year ago I was fleeing with her on the Kagamlik
from Bogun, and in this same way those birds were twittering; and where
is she now?"
"God has so ordained," said Volodyovski.
"Ordained to tears and sorrow, Pan Michael. There is no more
consolation for me."
They were silent; but through the open window came, with power
increasing each moment, the trill of the nightingales, with which all
that clear night seemed filled.
"Oh, God, God!" sighed Zagloba, "exactly as it was on the Kagamlik."
Pan Longin shook a tear from his great mustaches, and the little knight
said after a while,--
"Sorrow is sorrow; but drink some mead with us, for there is nothing
better against sorrow. At the glass we will talk of better times."
"Let us drink," said Zagloba, with resignation.
Volodyovski ordered the servant to bring a light and decanter, and
afterward, when they had sat down, knowing that reminiscences enlivened
Zagloba more than anything else, he inquired: "It is just a year, is it
not, since you fled with her before Bogun from Rozlogi?"
"It was in May, in May," answered Zagloba. "We passed through the
Kagamlik to flee to Zólotonosha. Oh, it is hard in this world!"
"And she was disguised?"
"As a Cossack. I had to cut off her hair with my sabre, poor thing! so
that she shouldn't be discovered. I know the place under the tree where
I hid the hair, together with the sabre."
"Oh, she was a sweet lady!" added Longin, with a sigh.
"I tell you, gentlemen, from the first day I fell in love with her as
if I had paid homage to her from youthful years. And she would clasp
her hands before me and thank me for her rescue and my care. I wish
they had killed me before I had lived to this day! Would that I had not
lived to it!"
Then came silence again, and the three knights drank mead mixed with
tears. After that Zagloba began to speak again.
"I thought to pass a calm old age with them, but now"--here his hands
hung down powerless--"nowhere solace, nowhere solace, but in the
grave--"
Before Zagloba had finished speaking a disturbance rose in the
anteroom; some one wished to enter, and the servant would not let him
in. A wordy struggle followed, in which it seemed to Volodyovski that
he recognized some known voice; therefore he called to the servant not
to forbid entrance further.
The door opened, and in it appeared the plump, ruddy face of Jendzian,
who, passing his eyes over those present, bowed and said: "May Jesus
Christ be praised!"
"For the ages of ages," said Volodyovski. "This is Jendzian?"
"I am he," said the young man, "and I bow to your knees. And where is
my master?"
"Your master is in Korets, and ill."
"Oh, for God's sake, what do you tell me? And is he seriously ill,
which God forbid?"
"He was, but he is better now. The doctor says he will recover."
"For I have come with news about the lady to my master."
The little knight began to nod his head in melancholy fashion. "You
need not hasten, for Pan Skshetuski already knows of her death, and we
here are shedding tears of mourning for her."
Jendzian's eyes were bursting from his head. "By violence! What do I
hear? Is she dead?"
"Not dead, but murdered in Kieff by robbers."
"What are you talking about? In what Kieff?"
"Don't you know Kieff?"
"For God's sake, are you fooling with me? What had she to do in Kieff
when she is hidden in the ravine at Valadinka, not far from Rashkoff,
and the witch was commanded not to move a step till Bogun should come?
As God is dear to me, must I run mad?"
"What witch are you speaking of?"
"Why, Horpyna! I know that bass-viol well."
Zagloba stood up suddenly from the bench, and began to strike out with
his hands like a man who has fallen into deep water and is trying to
save himself from drowning.
"By the living God, be quiet!" said he to Volodyovski. "By God's
wounds, let me ask him!"
The company trembled, so pale was Zagloba, and the perspiration came
out on his bald head. He sprang over the bench to Jendzian, and seizing
the young fellow by the shoulders, asked in a hoarse voice,--
"Who told you that she is near Rashkoff, secreted?"
"Who should tell me? Bogun!"
"Are you mad, fellow?" roared Zagloba, shaking him like a pear-tree.
"What Bogun?"
"Oh, for God's sake," called Jendzian, "why do you shake me so? Let me
go, let me collect my wits, for I am losing my senses. You have turned
everything over in my head. What Bogun should there be,--or don't you
know him?"
"Speak, or I'll stab you!" shouted Zagloba. "Where did you see Bogun?"
"In Vlodava! What do you want of me?" cried the frightened young man.
"Am I a robber?"
Zagloba lost the thread of his thought, breath failed him, and he fell
on the bench panting heavily. Volodyovski came to his aid.
"When did you see Bogun?" asked Volodyovski.
"Three weeks ago."
"Then he is alive?"
"Why shouldn't he be? He told me himself how you split him up, but he
has recovered."
"And he told you that the young lady is at Rashkoff?"
"Who else should tell me?"
"Listen, Jendzian! it is a question here of the life of your master and
the young lady. Did Bogun himself tell you that she was not in Kieff?"
"My master, how could she be in Kieff when he secreted her at Rashkoff,
and told Horpyna on peril of her life not to let her escape? But now he
has given me a baton and his ring to go to her; for his wounds opened,
and he had to lie down himself, it is unknown for how long."
Further words from Jendzian were interrupted by Zagloba, who sprang
from the bench again, and seizing the remnant of his hair with both
hands, began to shout like a madman: "My daughter is living,--by God's
wounds, she is living! They didn't kill her in Kieff; she is alive, she
is alive, my dearest!"
And the old man stamped with his feet, laughed and sobbed. Finally, he
seized Jendzian by the head, pressed him to his bosom and began to kiss
him, so that the young fellow lost his head altogether.
"Let me go, my master, for I am stifled! Of course she is alive--God
grant us to go together for her, my master--But, my master!"
"Let him go, let him tell his story, for we don't understand anything
yet," said Volodyovski.
"Speak, speak!" cried Zagloba.
"Begin at the beginning, brother," said Pan Longin, on whose mustaches,
too, thick dew had settled down.
"Permit me, gentlemen, to draw breath," said Jendzian; "and I will
close the window, for those wretches of nightingales are tearing away
in the bushes at such a rate that it is impossible to speak."
"Mead!" cried Volodyovski to the servant.
Jendzian closed the window with his usual deliberation, then turned to
the company and said; "You will let me sit down, for I am tired."
"Sit down!" said Volodyovski, pouring to him from the decanter borne in
by the servant. "Drink with us, for you deserve it for the news which
you bring. If you will only speak as soon as possible!"
"Good mead!" said he, raising the glass toward the light.
"May you be split! will you talk?" shouted Zagloba.
"You are angry at once, my master! I will talk if you wish; it is for
you to command and me to obey, that's why I am a servant. But I see
that I must start from the beginning and tell everything in detail."
"Speak from the beginning!"
"You remember, gentlemen, how the news of the taking of Bar came; how
we thought then that the young lady was lost? So I returned to the
Jendzians,--to my parents and my grandfather, who is now ninety years
old--I speak correctly--no! ninety-and-one."
"May he be nine hundred!" burst out Zagloba.
"May God give him as many years as possible! I thank you, my master,
for the kind word. So I returned home to visit my parents, as I by the
assistance of God had passed the robbers; for as you know, the Cossacks
took me up in Chigirin last year, and considered me one of themselves
because I nursed Bogun when wounded, and arrived at great intimacy with
him; and at the same time I collected some little from those
criminals,--some silver and precious stones."
"We know, we know!" said Volodyovski.
"Well, I reached my parents, who were glad to see me, and couldn't
believe their eyes when I showed them all I had collected. I had to
swear to my grandfather that I had come by it honestly. Then they were
glad; for you must know that they have a lawsuit with the Yavorskis
about a pear-tree which stands on the line between them,--half its
branches are on the land of the Yavorskis, and half on ours. Now the
Yavorskis shake the tree and our pears fall, and many of them go to
them. They stick to it that those in the middle are theirs, and we--"
"Don't bring me to anger, fellow!" interrupted Zagloba, "and don't
speak of that which does not belong to the story!"
"First, with your pardon, my master, I am no fellow, but a noble,
though a poor one, and with an escutcheon as well as you, as Pan
Volodyovski and Podbipienta, friends of Pan Skshetuski, will tell you;
and I repeat that this lawsuit has lasted fifty years."
"Dear little fish!" said Podbipienta, sweetly; "but tell us about
Bogun, not about pear-trees."
"Of Bogun?" said Jendzian. "Well, let it be about Bogun. That Bogun
thinks, my master, that he has not a more faithful friend and servant
than me, though he struck me in Chigirin; for it is true I nursed him,
took care of him, when the Kurtsevichi had wounded him. I lied then
when I said I did not like my master's service and preferred to be with
the Cossacks, for there was more profit among them; and he believed me.
Why shouldn't he believe me when I brought him to health? Therefore he
took a wonderful fancy to me, and what is true, rewarded me most
liberally, not knowing that I had sworn to have vengeance on him for
the wrong he had done me in Chigirin; and if I did not stab him at
once, it was only because it is not proper for a noble to stab an enemy
lying in bed, as he would stick a pig."
"Well, well," said Volodyovski, "we know that too, but how did you find
him this time?"
"It was this way: When we had pushed the Yavorskis to the wall (they
will have to go out with packs on their backs, it cannot be otherwise),
I thought: 'Well, it is time for me to look for Bogun and pay him for
the wrong he did me.' I left my parents in secret, and my grandfather;
and he (there is good metal in him) said: 'If you have taken an oath,
then go; if not, you will be a fool.' I went, for I thought to myself
besides: 'When I find Bogun maybe I shall learn something about the
lady, if she is alive; and afterward when I shoot him and go to my
master with the news, that too will not be without a reward.'"
"Certainly it will not; and we will reward you also," said Volodyovski.
"And from me, brother, you will have a horse with trappings," added
Podbipienta.
"I thank you most kindly," said the delighted young man; "a present is
a fitting return for good news, and I won't drink away what I get from
anybody--"
"Oh, the devil take me!" muttered Zagloba.
"You went away from your home and friends then?" suggested Volodyovski.
"I did; and on the way I thought: 'Where shall I go unless to Zbaraj,
for it is not far from Bogun, and I can hear more readily of my
master.' I go through Beloe to Vlodava, and in Vlodava I find my little
horse terribly used up,--I halt for refreshment. There was a fair in
the place; all the inns were full of nobles. I go to townspeople;
nobles there too! Then a Jew says to me: 'I have a room, but a wounded
noble has taken it.' Then I say: 'This has happened well, for I know how
to nurse, and your barber, as it is fair-time, cannot get through his
work.' The Jew said then that the noble took care of himself, did not
wish to see any man; still he went afterward to inquire. It is evident
the noble was worse, for he gave orders to admit me. I enter, and I
look to see who lies in the bed. Bogun! I bless myself in the name of
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! I was frightened; but he recognized me
at once, was very glad (for he takes me as his friend), and says he:
'God sent you to me! I'll not die this time.' And I say: 'What are you
doing here, my master?' But he put his finger on his lips, and only
afterward did he tell me of what had happened to him,--how Hmelnitski
sent him to the king, who at that time was a prince,--sent him from
before Zamost, and how Pan Volodyovski cut him up at Lipki."
"Did he remember me pleasantly?" asked Volodyovski.
"I cannot say, my master, otherwise than pleasantly enough. 'I
thought,' says he, 'that he was some little cur; but it turns out that
he is a hero of the first water, who almost cut me in two.' But when he
thinks of Pan Zagloba, then he grits his teeth in great anger, because
he urged you on to this fight--"
"May the hangman light him!" said Zagloba, "I am not afraid of him."
"We returned then to our former familiarity, yes, even to greater. He
told me all,--how near he had been to death; how they removed him to
the mansion at Lipki, taking him for a noble, and he gave himself out
as Pan Hulevich from Podolia; how they cured him and treated him with
great kindness, for which he swore gratitude to them till death."
"And what was he doing in Vlodava?"
"He was going to Volynia; but in Parcheva his wounds opened, for the
wagon turned over with him, and he had to stop, though in great fear,
for they might easily cut him to pieces there. He told me this himself.
'I was,' said he, 'sent with letters; but now I have no papers, nothing
but a baton; and if they should discover who I am, not only the nobles
would cut me to pieces, but the first commandant would hang me without
asking permission of any man.' I remember that when he told me that, I
said to him: 'It is well to know that the first commandant would hang
you.' 'And how is that?' asked he. 'So as to be cautious and say
nothing to any man, in which I also will serve you.' Then he began to
thank me and to assure me of gratitude, and that reward would not miss
me. Then he said: 'I have no money, but what jewels I have I will give
you, and later I will cover you with gold; only render me one more
service.'"
"And now we are coming to the princess?" said Volodyovski.
"Yes, my master, I must tell everything in detail. When he said that he
had no money, I lost all heart for him, and thought to myself: 'Wait!
I'll render you a service.' He said: 'I am sick, I have not strength
for the journey, but a long and dangerous road awaits me. If I go to
Volynia,--and it is not far from here,--then I shall be among my own;
but to the Dniester I cannot go, for my strength is insufficient, and
it is necessary to pass through an enemy's country, near castles and
troops. Do you go for me!' 'To what place?' I ask. 'To Rashkoff, for
she is hidden there with a sister of Donyéts, Horpyna.' I ask, 'Is it
the princess?' 'Yes,' says he, 'I hid her there where the eye of man
cannot see her; it is pleasant for her there, and she sleeps like the
Princess Vishnyevetska, on golden cushions.'"
"Tell me quickly, in God's name!" shouted Zagloba.
"What is done quickly is done in the devil's fashion," answered
Jendzian. "When I heard that, my master, how I rejoiced! But I did not
show it, and I say: 'Is she surely there, for it must be a long time
since you took her to the place?' He began to swear that Horpyna was
devoted to him, would keep her ten years till his return, and that the
princess was there as God is in heaven; for neither Poles nor Tartars
nor Cossacks could come, and Horpyna would not disobey his order."
While Jendzian was telling the story, Zagloba trembled as in a fever,
the little knight nodded his head joyfully, Podbipienta raised his eyes
to heaven.
"That she is there is certain," continued the youth, "for the best
proof is that he sent me to her. But I put it off at first so as to
betray nothing, and I ask: 'Why should I go?' 'Because I am not able to
go. If,' says he, 'I go from Vlodava to Volynia alive, I will have her
taken to Kieff, for our Cossacks have the upper hand there everywhere.
And you,' says he, 'go to Horpyna, and give her the order to take the
princess to the monastery of the Holy Virgin in Kieff.'"
"Well, it was not to Nikolai the Good then," burst out Zagloba. "I saw
at first that Yerlich was a hypochondriac, or that he lied."
"To the Holy Virgin," said Jendzian. "'I'll give you my ring,' says he,
'and baton and knife, and Horpyna will know what they mean, for we have
agreed about them; and God has sent you,' says he, 'all the more
because she knows you,--knows that you are my best friend. Go at once;
don't fear the Cossacks, but look out for the Tartars, if there are
any, and avoid them, for they will not respect the baton. Money,
ducats, are buried in the ravine; take them out at once. Along the road
you need only say, "Bogun's wife is travelling," and you will want for
nothing. Besides,' says he, 'the witch is able to help herself. Only
go, for my sake! Whom besides can I--unfortunate man!--send, whom can I
trust, in this strange country, among enemies?' He begged, my master,
till he almost shed tears. Finally the beast asked me to take an oath
that I would go; and I took the oath, but in my mind I added: 'With my
master!' Then he rejoiced, and gave me the baton, the ring, and the
knife at once, and whatever jewels he had; and I took them too, for I
thought, better that they be with me than with a robber. At parting he
told me what ravine is above the Valadinka, how to go and how to turn
so exactly, that I could get there with my eyes bound; which you will
see yourselves if you go with me, as I think you will."
"Immediately! to-morrow!" said Volodyovski.
"What! to-morrow? We will order the horses to be saddled at daylight
to-day."
Joy seized the hearts of all. At one moment could be heard cries of
gratitude to heaven, at another the joyful rubbing of hands; then new
questions put to Jendzian, to which he answered with his usual
deliberation.
"May the bullets strike you!" cried Zagloba; "what a servant Skshetuski
has in you!"
"Well, what of it?" asked Jendzian.
"He will cover you with gold."
"I think too that I shall not be without a reward, though I serve my
master out of faithfulness."
"What did you do with Bogun?" asked Volodyovski.
"This, my master, was for me the greatest torment, that he lay sick
again, and I could not put a knife into him, for my master would blame
me for that. Such was my luck! What had I to do? He had told me all he
had to tell, had given me all he had to give, so to my head for wit.
'Why,' say I to myself, 'should such a villain walk through the world?
He imprisons a lady, and struck me in Chigirin. Better that he should
not be, and let the hangman light his way. For,' I thought to myself,
'if he gets well, he will be after us with his Cossacks.' Not thinking
long then, I went to Pan Rogovski, the commandant, who is in Vlodava
with his squadron, and I told him that it was Bogun, the worst of the
rebels. They must have hanged him before this time."
Having said this, Jendzian laughed stupidly enough, and looked on the
audience as if waiting for applause; but how astonished was he when
answered by silence! After some time Zagloba muttered, "No more of
this!" but on the contrary Volodyovski kept silent, and Pan Longin
began to click with his tongue, shake his head, and at last he said,--
"You have acted ignobly,--what is called ignobly!"
"How so, my master?" asked the astonished Jendzian; "should I have
stabbed him?"
"And that would have been ugly, and this ugly. I know not which is
better, to be a murderer or a Judas."
"What do you say, my master? Is it to be a Judas to give up a rebel who
is an enemy of the king and the whole Commonwealth?"
"True, but still the deed is ignoble. What did you say the name of that
commandant is?"
"Pan Rogovski. They said his name was Jakob."
"Ah, that's the same man!" muttered the Lithuanian. "A relative of Pan
Lashch, and an enemy of Skshetuski."
But this remark was not heard, for Zagloba began,--
"Gentlemen, there is no reason for delay. God has so arranged through
this youth, and has so directed, that we shall seek her under better
conditions than hitherto. Praise be to God! We must leave in the
morning. The prince has gone away already, but we must start without
his permission, for there is no time to wait. Volodyovski will go; I
with him, and Jendzian; but you, Pan Longin, would better stay, for
your stature and your simplicity of soul might betray us."
"No, brother; I'll go too," said the Lithuanian.
"For her safety you must stay at home. Whoever has seen you will not
forget you for a lifetime. We have the baton, it is true, but they
would not believe you, even with the baton. You suffocated Pulyan in
sight of Krívonos's whole rabble; and since such a pillar has stood
before them, they would recognize it. You cannot go with us. You
wouldn't find three heads there, and the one you have wouldn't help us
much; you would ruin the undertaking."
"Sad," said the Lithuanian.
"Sad or not sad, you must stay. When we go to lift birds' nests out of
the trees we will take you, but not this time."
"Disgusting to hear you!"
"Let me kiss you, for joy is in my heart. But stay! one thing more,
gentlemen. This affair is of the greatest importance,--a secret. Let it
not be known among the soldiers, and go from them to the peasants. Not
a word to any man!"
"Not to the prince?"
"The prince is not here."
"But to Skshetuski, if he comes?"
"To him especially not a word, for he would race after us at once. He
will have time enough to be glad; and God guard us from a new
disappointment!--then he would lose his mind. Word of honor,
gentlemen!"
"Word of honor," said Podbipienta.
"Word, word!"
"And now let us thank God."
Having said this, Zagloba knelt first, after him the others, and they
prayed long and fervently.