CHAPTER II.
Reaching Chigirin next morning, Pan Skshetuski stopped at the house ofPrince Yeremi in the town, where he was to spend some time in givingrest to his men and horses after their long journey from the Crimea,which by reason of the floods and unusually swift currents of theDnieper had to be made by land, since no boat could make head againstthe stream that winter. Skshetuski himself rested awhile, and then wentto Pan Zatsvilikhovski, former commissioner of the Commonwealth,--asterling soldier, who, though he did not serve with the prince, was hisconfidant and friend. The lieutenant wanted to ask him if there wereinstructions from Lubni; but the prince had sent nothing special. Hehad ordered Skshetuski, in the event of a favorable answer from theKhan, to journey slowly, so that his men and horses might be in goodhealth. The prince had the following business with the Khan; He desiredthe punishment of certain Tartar murzas, who had raided his estatesbeyond the Dnieper, and whom he himself had punished severely. The Khanhad in fact given a favorable answer,--had promised to send a specialenvoy in the following April to punish the disobedient; and wishing togain the good-will of so famous a warrior as the prince, he had senthim by Skshetuski a horse of noted stock and also a sable cap.
Pan Skshetuski, having acquitted himself of his mission with no smallhonor, the mission itself being a proof of the high favor of theprince, was greatly rejoiced at the permission to stop in Chigirinwithout hastening his return. But old Zatsvilikhovski was greatlyannoyed by what had been taking place for some time in Chigirin. Theywent together to the house of Dopula, a Wallachian, who kept an inn anda wine-shop in the place. There they found a crowd of nobles, thoughthe hour was still early; for it was a market-day, and besides therehappened to be a halt of cattle driven to the camp of the royal army,which brought a multitude of people together. The nobles generallyassembled in the square at Dopula's, at the so-called Bell-ringers'Corner. There were assembled tenants of the Konyetspolskis, andChigirin officials, owners of neighboring lands, settlers on crownlands, nobles on their own soil and dependent on no one, land stewards,some Cossack elders, and a few inferior nobles,--some living on othermen's acres and some on their own.
These groups occupied benches at long oaken tables and conversed inloud voices, all speaking of the flight of Hmelnitski, which was thegreatest event of the place. Zatsvilikhovski sat with Skshetuski in acorner apart. The lieutenant began to inquire what manner of ph[oe]nixthat Hmelnitski was of whom all were speaking.
"Don't you know?" answered the old soldier. "He is the secretary of theZaporojian army, the heir of Subotoff,--and my friend," added he, in alower voice. "We have been long acquainted, and were together in manyexpeditions in which he distinguished himself, especially under Tetera.Perhaps there is not a soldier of such military experience in the wholeCommonwealth. This is not to be mentioned in public; but he has thebrain of a hetman, a heavy hand, and a mighty mind. All the Cossacksobey him more than koshevoi and ataman. He is not without good points,but imperious and unquiet; and when hatred gets the better of him hecan be terrible."
"What made him flee from Chigirin?"
"Quarrels with the Starosta Chaplinski; but that is all nonsense.Usually a nobleman bespatters a nobleman from enmity. Hmelnitski is notthe first and only man offended. They say, too, that he turned the headof the starosta's wife; that the starosta carried off his mistress andmarried her; that afterward Hmelnitski took her fancy,--and that is alikely matter, for woman is giddy, as a rule. But these are merepretexts, under which certain intrigues find deeper concealment. Thisis how the affair stands: In Chigirin lives old Barabash, a Cossackcolonel, our friend. He had privileges and letters from the king. Ofthese it was said that they urged the Cossacks to resist the nobility;but being a humane and kindly man, he kept them to himself and didnot make them known. Then Hmelnitski invited Barabash to a dinnerin his own house, here in Chigirin, and sent people to Barabash'scountry-place, who took the letters and the privileges away from hiswife and disappeared. There is danger that out of them such a rebellionas that of Ostranitsa may arise; for, I repeat, he is a terrible man,and has fled, it is unknown whither."
To this Skshetuski answered: "He is a fox, and has tricked me. He toldme he was a Cossack colonel of Prince Dominik Zaslavski. I met him lastnight in the steppe, and freed him from a lariat."
Zatsvilikhovski seized himself by the head.
"In God's name, what do you tell me? It cannot have been."
"It can, since it has been. He told me he was a colonel in the serviceof Prince Dominik Zaslavski, on a mission from the Grand Hetman to PanGrodzitski at Kudak. I did not believe this, since he was nottravelling by water, but stealing along over the steppe."
"He is as cunning as Ulysses! But where did you meet him?"
"On the Omelnik, on the right bank of the Dnieper. It is evident thathe was on his way to the Saitch."
"He wanted to avoid Kudak. I understand now. Had he many men?"
"About forty. But they came to meet him too late. Had it not been forme, the servants of the starosta would have strangled him."
"But stop a moment! That is an important affair. The servants of thestarosta, you say?"
"That is what he told me."
"How could the starosta know where to look for him, when here in thisplace all were splitting their heads to know what he had done withhimself?"
"I can't tell that. It may be, too, that Hmelnitski lied, andrepresented common robbers as servants of the starosta, in order tocall more attention to his wrongs."
"Impossible! But it is a strange affair. Do you know that there is acircular from the hetman, ordering the arrest and detention ofHmelnitski?"
The lieutenant gave no answer, for at that moment some nobleman enteredthe room with a tremendous uproar. He made the doors rattle a couple oftimes, and looking insolently through the room cried out,--
"My respects, gentlemen!"
He was a man of forty years of age, of low stature, with peevish face,the irritable appearance of which was increased by quick eyes,protruding from his face like plums,--evidently a man very rash,stormy, quick to anger.
"My respects, gentlemen!" repeated he more loudly and sharply, since hewas not answered at once.
"Respects! respects!" was answered by several voices.
This man was Chaplinski, the under-starosta of Chigirin, the trustedhenchman of young Konyetspolski. He was not liked in Chigirin, for hewas a terrible blusterer, always involved in lawsuits, alwayspersecuting some one; but for all that he had great influence,consequently people were polite to him.
Zatsvilikhovski, whom all respected for his dignity, virtues, andcourage, was the only man he regarded. Seeing him, he approachedimmediately, and bowing rather haughtily to Skshetuski, sat down nearthem with his tankard of mead.
"Well," inquired Zatsvilikhovski, "do you know what has become ofHmelnitski?"
"He is hanging, as sure as I am Chaplinski; and if he is not hangingyet, he will be soon. Now that the hetman's orders are issued, let meonly get him in my hands!"
Saying this, he struck the table with his fist till the liquor wasspilled from the glasses.
"Don't spill the wine, my dear sir!" said Skshetuski.
Zatsvilikhovski interrupted: "But how will you get him, since he hasescaped and no one knows where he is?"
"No one knows? I know,--true as I am Chaplinski. You know Hvedko. ThatHvedko is in his service, but in mine too. He will be Hmelnitski'sJudas. It's a long story. He has made friends with Hmelnitski'sCossacks. A sharp fellow! He knows every step that is taken. He hasengaged to bring him to me, living or dead, and has gone to the steppebefore Hmelnitski, knowing where to wait for him."
Having said this, he struck the table again.
"Don't spill the wine, my dear sir!" repeated with emphasis Skshetuski,who felt an astonishing aversion to the man from the first sight ofhim.
Chaplinski grew red in the face; his protruding eyes flashed. Thinkingthat offence was given him, he looked excitedly at Pan Yan
; but seeingon him the colors of Vishnyevetski, he softened. Though Konyetspolskihad a quarrel with Yeremi at the time, still Chigirin was too nearLubni, and it was dangerous not to respect the colors of the prince.Besides, Vishnyevetski chose such people for his service that any onewould think twice before disputing with them.
"Hvedko, then, has undertaken to get Hmelnitski for you?" askedZatsvilikhovski again.
"He has, and he will get him,--as sure as I am Chaplinski."
"But I tell you that he will not. Hmelnitski has escaped the ambush,and has gone to the Saitch, which you should have told Pan Pototskito-day. There is no fooling with Hmelnitski. Speaking briefly, he hasmore brains, a heavier hand, and greater luck than you, who are toohotheaded. Hmelnitski went away safely, I tell you; and if perhaps youdon't believe me, this gentleman, who saw him in good health on thesteppe and bade good-by to him yesterday, will repeat what I havesaid."
"Impossible, it cannot be!" boiled up Chaplinski, seizing himself bythe hair.
"And what is more," added Zatsvilikhovski, "this knight before yousaved him and killed your servants,--for which he is not to blame, inspite of the hetman's order, since he was returning from a mission tothe Crimea and knew nothing of the order. Seeing a man attacked in thesteppe by ruffians, as he thought, he went to his assistance. Of thisrescue of Hmelnitski I inform you in good season, for he is ready withhis Zaporojians, and it is evident that you wouldn't be very glad tosee him, for you have maltreated him over-much. Tfu! to the devil withsuch tricks!"
Zatsvilikhovski, also, did not like Chaplinski.
Chaplinski sprang from his seat, losing his speech from rage; his facewas completely purple, and his eyes kept coming more and more out ofhis head. Standing before Skshetuski in this condition, he belchedforth disconnected words,--
"How!--in spite of the hetman's orders! I will--I will--"
Skshetuski did not even rise from the bench, but leaned on his elbowsand watched Chaplinski, darting like a hawk on a sparrow.
"Why do you fasten to me like a burr to a dog's tail?"
"I'll drag you to the court with me!--You in spite of orders!--I withCossacks!"
He stormed so much that it grew quieter in other parts of the room, andstrangers began to turn their faces in the direction of Chaplinski. Hewas always seeking a quarrel, for such was his nature; he offendedevery man he met. But all were astonished, then, that he began withZatsvilikhovski, who was the only person he feared, and with an officerwearing the colors of Prince Yeremi.
"Be silent, sir!" said the old standard-bearer. "This knight is in mycompany."
"I'll take you to the court!--I'll take you to the court--to thestocks!" roared Chaplinski, paying no attention to anything or any man.
Then Skshetuski rose, straightened himself to his full height, but didnot draw his sabre; he had it hanging low, and taking it by the middleraised it till he put the cross hilt under the very nose of Chaplinski.
"Smell that!" said he.
"Strike, whoever believes in God!--Ai! here, my men!" shoutedChaplinski, grasping after his sword-hilt.
But he did not succeed in drawing his sword. The young lieutenantturned him around, caught him by the nape of the neck with one hand,and with the other by the trousers below the belt raised him, squirminglike a salmon, and going to the door between the benches called out,--
"Brothers, clear the road for big horns; he'll hook!"
Saying this, he went to the threshold, struck and opened the door withChaplinski, and hurled the under-starosta out into the street. Then heresumed his seat quietly at the side of Zatsvilikhovski.
In a moment there was silence in the room. The argument used by Pan Yanmade a great impression on the assembled nobles. After a little while,however, the whole place shook with laughter.
"Hurrah for Vislinyevetski's man!" cried some.
"He has fainted! he has fainted, and is covered with blood!" criedothers, who had looked through the door, curious to know whatChaplinski would do. "His servants are carrying him off!"
The partisans of the under-starosta, but few in number, were silent,and not having the courage to take his part, looked sullenly atSkshetuski.
"Spoken truth touches that hound to the quick," said Zatsvilikhovski.
"He is a cur, not a hound," said, while drawing near, a bulky noblemanwho had a cataract on one eye and a hole in his forehead the size of athaler, through which the naked skull appeared,--"He is a cur, not ahound! Permit me," continued he, turning to Pan Yan, "to offer you myrespects. I am Yan Zagloba; my escutcheon 'In the Forehead,' as everyone may easily know by this hole which the bullet of a robber made inmy forehead when I was on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in penance forthe sins of my youth."
"But leave us in peace," said Zatsvilikhovski; "you said yourself thatthat was knocked out of you with a tankard in Radom."
"As I live, the bullet of a robber! That was another affair in Radom."
"You made a vow to go to the Holy Land, perhaps; but that you havenever been there is certain."
"I have not been there, for in Galats I received the palm of martyrdom;and if I lie, I am a supreme dog and not a nobleman."
"Ah, you never stop your stories!"
"Well, I am a rogue without hearing. To you, Lieutenant!"
In the mean while others came up to make the acquaintance of Skshetuskiand express their regard for him. In general Chaplinski was notpopular, and they were glad that disgrace had met him. It is strangeand difficult to understand at this day that all the nobility in theneighborhood of Chigirin, and the smaller owners of villages, landedproprietors, and agriculturists, even though serving theKonyetspolskis, all knowing in neighbor fashion the dispute ofChaplinski with Hmelnitski, were on the side of the latter. Hmelnitskihad indeed the reputation of a famous soldier who had rendered no meanservices in various wars. It was known, also, that the king himself hadhad communication with him and valued his opinion highly. The wholeaffair was regarded as an ordinary squabble of one noble with another;such squabbles were counted by thousands, especially in the Russianlands. The part of the man was taken who knew how to incline to hisside the majority, who did not foresee what terrible results were tocome from this affair. Later on it was that hearts flamed up withhatred against Hmelnitski,--the hearts of nobility and clergy of bothchurches in equal degree.
Presently men came up to Skshetuski with liquor by the quart, saying,--
"Drink, brother!"
"Have a drink with me too!"
"Long life to Vishnyevetski's men!"
"So young, and already a lieutenant with Vishnyevetski!"
"Long life to Yeremi, hetman of hetmans! With him we will go to theends of the earth!"
"Against Turks and Tartars!"
"To Stamboul!"
"Long life to Vladislav, our king!"
Loudest of all shouted Pan Zagloba, who was ready all alone toout-drink and out-talk a whole regiment.
"Gentlemen!" shouted he, till the window-panes rattled, "I havesummoned the Sultan for the assault on me which he permitted inGalats."
"If you don't stop talking, you may wear the skin off your mouth."
"How so, my dear sir? Quatuor articuli judicii castrensis: stuprum,incendium, latrocinium et vis armata alienis aedibus illata. Was notthat specifically vis armata?"
"You are a noisy woodcock, my friend."
"I'll go even to the highest court."
"But won't you keep quiet?"
"I will get a decision, proclaim him an outlaw, and then war to theknife."
"Health to you, gentlemen!"
Some broke out in laughter, and with them Skshetuski, for his headbuzzed a trifle now; but Zagloba babbled on just like a woodcock,charmed with his own voice. Happily his discourse was interrupted byanother noble, who, stepping up, pulled him by the sleeve and said insinging Lithuanian tones,--
"Introduce me, friend Zagloba, to Lieutenant Skshetuski,--introduce me,please!"
"Of course, of course. Most worthy lieutenant, this is Pan Povsino
ga."
"Podbipienta," said the other, correcting him.
"No matter; but his arms are Zervipludry--"[2]
"Zervikaptur,"[3] corrected the stranger.
"All right. From Psikishki--"[4]
"From Myshikishki,"[5] corrected the stranger.
"It's all the same. I don't remember whether I said mouse or dogentrails. But one thing is certain: I should not like to live in eitherplace, for it is not easy to get there, and to depart is unseemly. Mostgracious sir," said he, turning to Skshetuski, "I have now for a weekbeen drinking wine at the expense of this gentleman, who has a sword athis belt as heavy as his purse, and his purse is as heavy as his wit.But if ever I have drunk wine at the cost of such an original, then mayI call myself as big a fool as the man who buys wine for me."
"Well, he has given him a description!"
But the Lithuanian was not angry; he only waved his hand, smiledkindly, and said: "You might give us a little peace; it is terrible tolisten to you!"
Pan Yan looked with curiosity at the new figure, which in truthdeserved to be called original. First of all, it was the figure of aman of such stature that his head was as high as a wall, and hisextreme leanness made him appear taller still. His broad shoulders andsinewy neck indicated uncommon strength, but he was merely skin andbone. His stomach had so fallen in from his chest that he might havebeen taken for a man dying of hunger. He was well dressed in a grayclosely fitting coat of sveboda cloth with narrow arms, and highSwedish boots, then coming into use in Lithuania. A broad andwell-filled elk-skin girdle with nothing to support it had slipped downto his hips; to this girdle was attached a Crusader's sword, which wasso long that it reached quite to the shoulder of this gigantic man.
But whoever should be alarmed at the sword would be reassured in amoment by a glance at the face of its owner. The face, lean like thewhole person, was adorned with hanging brows and a pair of drooping,hemp-colored mustaches, but was as honest and sincere as the face of achild. The hanging mustaches and brows gave him an expression at onceanxious, thoughtful, and ridiculous. He looked like a man whom peopleelbow aside; but he pleased Skshetuski from the first glance because ofthe sincerity of his face and his perfect soldierly self-control.
"Lieutenant," said he, "you are in the service of PrinceVishnyevetski?"
"I am."
The Lithuanian placed his hands together as if in prayer, and raisedhis eyes.
"Ah, what a mighty warrior, what a hero, what a leader!"
"God grant the Commonwealth as many such as possible!"
"But could I not enter his service?"
"He will be glad to have you."
At this point Zagloba interrupted the conversation.
"The prince will have two spits for his kitchen,--one in you, one inyour sword,--or he will hire you as a cook, or he will order robbers tobe hanged on you, or he will measure cloth with you to make uniforms!Tfu! why are you not ashamed as a man and a Catholic to be as long as aserpent or the lance of an infidel?"
"Oh, it's disgusting to hear you," said the Lithuanian, patiently.
"What is your title?" asked Skshetuski; "for when you were speaking PanZagloba interrupted so often that if you will pardon me--"
"Podbipienta."
"Povsinoga," added Zagloba.
"Zervikaptur of Myshikishki."
"Here, old woman, is fun for you. I drink his wine, but I'm a fool ifthese are not outlandish titles."
"Are you from Lithuania?" asked the lieutenant.
"Well, I'm two weeks now in Chigirin. Hearing from Pan Zatsvilikhovskithat you were coming, I waited to present my request to the prince withhis recommendation."
"Tell me, please,--for I am curious,--why do you carry such anexecutioner's sword under your arm?"
"It is not the sword of an executioner, Lieutenant, but of a Crusader,and I wear it because it is a trophy and has been long in my family. Itserved at Khoinitsi in Lithuanian hands, and that's why I wear it."
"But it's a savage machine, and must be terribly heavy. It's for twohands, I suppose?"
"Oh, it can be used in two hands or one."
"Let me have a look at it."
The Lithuanian drew the sword and handed it to him; but Skshetuski'sarm dropped in a moment. He could neither point the weapon nor aim ablow freely. He tried with both hands; still it was heavy. Skshetuskiwas a little ashamed, and turning to those present, said,--
"Now, gentlemen, who can make a cross with it?"
"We have tried already," answered several voices. "Pan Zatsvilikhovskiis the only man who raises it, but he can't make a cross with it."
"Well, let us see you, sir," said Skshetuski, turning to theLithuanian.
Podbipienta raised the sword as if it were a cane, and whirled itseveral times with the greatest ease, till the air in the room whistledand a breeze was blowing on their faces.
"May God be your aid!" said Skshetuski. "You have sure service with theprince."
"God knows that I am anxious, and my sword will not rust in it."
"But what about your wits," asked Zagloba, "since you don't know how touse them?"
Zatsvilikhovski now rose, and with the lieutenant was preparing to goout, when a man with hair white as a dove entered, and seeingZatsvilikhovski, said,--
"I have come here on purpose to see you, sir."
This was Barabash, the Colonel of Cherkasi.
"Then come to my quarters," replied Zatsvilikhovski. "There is such asmoke here that nothing can be seen."
They went out together, Skshetuski with them. As soon as he had crossedthe threshold, Barabash asked,--
"Are there news of Hmelnitski?"
"There are. He has fled to the Saitch. This officer met him yesterdayin the steppe."
"Then he has not gone by water? I hurried off a courier to Kudak tohave him seized; but if what you say is true, 'tis useless."
When he had said this, Barabash covered his eyes with his hands, andbegan to repeat, "Oh, Christ save us! Christ save us!"
"Why are you disturbed?"
"Don't you know the treason he has wrought on me? Don't you know whatit means to publish such documents in the Saitch? Christ save us!Unless the king makes war on the Mussulman, this will be a spark uponpowder."
"You predict a rebellion?"
"I do not predict, I see it; and Hmelnitski is somewhat beyondNalivaika and Loboda."
"But who will follow him?"
"Who? Zaporojians, registered Cossacks, people of the towns, the mob,cottagers, and such as these out here."
Barabash pointed to the market-square and to the people moving aroundupon it. The whole square was thronged with great gray oxen on the wayto Korsun for the army; and with the oxen went a crowd of herdsmen(Chabani), who passed their whole lives in the steppe andWilderness,--men perfectly wild, professing no religion, ("religionisnullius," as the Voevoda Kisel said). Among them were forms more likerobbers than herdsmen,--fierce, terrible, covered with remnants ofvarious garments. The greater part of them were dressed in sheepskindoublets or in untanned skins with the wool outside, open in front andshowing, even in winter, the naked breast embrowned by the winds of thesteppe. All were armed, but with the greatest variety of weapons. Somehad bows and quivers on their shoulders; some muskets or "squealers"(so called by the Cossacks); some had Tartar sabres, some scythes; andfinally, there were those who had only sticks with horse-jaws fastenedon the ends. Among them mingled the no less wild, though better armedmen from the lower country, taking to the camp for sale dried fish,game, and mutton fat. Farther on were the Chumaki (ox-drivers) withsalt, bee-keepers from the steppes and forest, wax-bleachers withhoney, forest-dwellers with tar and pitch, peasants with wagons,registered Cossacks, Tartars from Belgorod, and God knows what trampsand "vampires" from the ends of the earth. The whole town was full ofdrunken men. Chigirin was the place of lodging, and therefore of afrolic before bedtime. Fires were scattered over the market-square,while here and there an empty tar-barrel was burning. From every pointwere heard cr
ies and bustle. The shrill squeak of Tartar pipes and thesound of drums was mingled with the bellowing of cattle and the softernote of the lyre, to which old men sang the favorite song of thetime,--
"Oh, bright falcon, My own brother, Thou soarest high, Thou seest far."
And besides this went up the wild shouts "U-ha! u-ha!" of the Cossacks,smeared with tar and quite drunk, dancing the tropak on the square. Allthis was at once wild and frenzied. One glance was enough to convinceZatsvilikhovski that Barabash was right; that one breath was sufficientto let loose those chaotic elements, inclined to plunder and accustomedto violence, with which the whole Ukraine was filled. And behind thesecrowds stood the Saitch, the Zaporojie, recently bridled and put incurb after Masloff Stav, still gnawing the bit impatiently, rememberingancient privileges and hating commissioners, but forming an organizedpower. That power had also on its side the sympathy of a countless massof peasants, less patient of control than in other parts of theCommonwealth, because near them was Chertomelik, and beyondlordlessness, booty, and freedom. The standard-bearer in view of this,though a Russian himself and a devoted adherent of Eastern orthodoxy,fell into gloomy thought.
Being an old man, he remembered well the times of Nalivaika, Loboda,and Krempski. He knew the robbers of the Ukraine better perhaps thanany one in Russia; and knowing at the same time Hmelnitski, he knewthat he was greater than twenty Lobodas and Nalivaikas. He understood,therefore, all the danger of his escape to the Saitch, especially withthe letters of the king, which Barabash said were full of promises tothe Cossacks and incitements to resistance.
"Most worthy colonel," said Zatsvilikhovski to Barabash, "you should goto the Saitch and neutralize the influence of Hmelnitski; pacify them,pacify them."
"Most worthy standard-bearer," answered Barabash, "I will merely saythat in consequence of the news of Hmelnitski's flight with the papersof the king, one half of my men have followed him to the Saitch. Mytime has passed; not the baton awaits me, but the grave!"
Barabash was indeed a good soldier, but old and without influence.
Meanwhile they had come to the quarters of Zatsvilikhovski, who hadregained somewhat the composure peculiar to his mild character; andwhen they sat down to half a gallon of mead, he said emphatically,--
"All this is nothing, if, as they say, war is on foot against theMussulman; and it is likely that such is the case, for though theCommonwealth does not want war, and the diets have roused much badblood in the king, still he may carry his point. All this fire may beturned against the Turk, and in every case we have time on our side. Iwill go myself to Pan Pototski, inform him, and ask that he, beingnearest to us, should come with his army. I do not know whether I shallsucceed, for though a brave man and a trained warrior, he is terriblyconfident in himself and his army. And you, Colonel of Cherkasi, keepthe Cossacks in curb--and you, Lieutenant, the moment you arrive atLubni warn the prince to keep his eyes on the Saitch. Even if theybegin action, I repeat it, we have time. There are not many people atthe Saitch now; they have scattered around, fishing and hunting, andare in villages throughout the whole Ukraine. Before they assemble,much water will flow down the Dnieper. Besides, the name of the princeis terrible, and if they know that he has his eye on Chertomelik,perhaps they will remain in peace."
"I am ready," said the lieutenant, "to start from Chigirin even in acouple of days."
"That's right. Two or three days are of no account. And do you, Colonelof Cherkasi, send couriers with an account of the affair toKonyetspolski and Prince Dominic. But you are asleep, as I see."
Barabash had crossed his hands on his stomach and was in a deepslumber, snoring from time to time. The old colonel, when neithereating nor drinking,--and he loved both beyond measure,--was sleeping.
"Look!" said Zatsvilikhovski quietly to the lieutenant; "the statesmenat Warsaw think of holding the Cossacks in curb through such an old manas that. God be good to them! They put trust, too, even in Hmelnitskihimself, with whom the chancellor entered into some negotiations orother; and Hmelnitski no doubt is fooling them terribly."
The lieutenant sighed in token of sympathy. But Barabash snored moredeeply, and then murmured in his sleep: "Christ save us! Christ saveus!"
"When do you think of leaving Chigirin?" asked Zatsvilikhovski.
"I shall have to wait two days for Chaplinski, who will bring anaction, beyond doubt, for what has happened to him."
"He will not do that. He would prefer to send his servants against youif you didn't wear the uniform of the prince; but it is ugly work totackle the prince, even for the servants of the Konyetspolskis."
"I will notify him that I am waiting, and start in two or three days. Iam not afraid of an ambush, either, having a sabre at my side and aparty of men."
The lieutenant now took farewell of Zatsvilikhovski, and went out.
The blaze from the piles on the square spread such a glare over thetown that all Chigirin seemed burning. The bustle and shouts increasedwith the approach of night. The Jews did not peep from their houses. Inevery corner crowds of Chabani howled plaintive songs of the steppe.The wild Zaporojians danced around the fires, hurling their caps in theair, firing from their "squealers," and drinking gorailka by the quart.Here and there a scuffle broke out, which the starosta's men put down.The lieutenant had to open a way with the hilt of his sabre. Hearingthe shouts and noise of the Cossacks, he thought at times thatrebellion was already beginning to speak. It seemed to him, also, thathe saw threatening looks and heard low-spoken curses directed againsthis person. In his ears were still ringing the words of Barabash,"Christ save us! Christ save us!" and his heart beat more quickly.
But the Chabani sang their songs more loudly in the town; theZaporojians fired from their muskets and swam in gorailka. The firingand the wild "U-ha! u-ha!" reached the ears of the lieutenant, evenafter he had lain down to sleep in his quarters.