Read On the Field of Glory: An Historical Novel of the Time of King John Sobieski Page 2

  CHAPTER I

  The winter of 1682-83 was a season of such rigor that even very oldpeople could not remember one like it. During the autumn rain fellcontinually, and in the middle of November the first frost appeared,which confined waters and put a glass bark upon trees of the forest.Icicles fastened on pines and broke many branches. In the first days ofDecember the birds, after frequent biting frosts, flew into villagesand towns, and even wild beasts came out of dense forests and drew nearthe houses of people. About Saint Damasius' day the heavens becameclouded, and then snow appeared; ten days did it fall without ceasing.It covered the country to a height of two ells; it hid forest roads, ithid fences, and even cottage windows. Men opened pathways with shovelsthrough snow-drifts to go to their granaries and stables; and when thesnow stopped at last, a splitting frost came, from which forest treesgave out sounds that seemed gunshots.

  Peasants, who at that time had to go to the woodlands for fuel, went inparties to defend themselves, and were careful that night should notfind them at a distance from the village. After sunset no man daredleave his own doorstep unless with a fork or a bill-hook, and dogs gaveout, until daylight, short frightened yelps, as they do always whenbarking at wolves which are near them.

  During just such a night and in such a fierce frost a great equipage onrunners pushed along a forest road carefully; it was drawn by fourhorses and surrounded by attendants. In front, on a strong beast, rodea man with a pole and a small iron pot on the end of it; in this potpitch was burning, not to make the road visible, for there wasmoonlight, but to frighten away wolves from the party. On the box ofthe equipage sat a driver, and on a saddled horse a postilion, and ateach side rode two men armed with muskets and slingshots.

  The party moved forward very slowly, since the road was little beatenand in places the snow-drifts, especially at turnings, rose like waveson the roadway.

  This slowness disturbed Pan Gideon Pangovski, who, relying on hisnumerous attendants and their weapons, had determined to travel, thoughin Radom men had warned him of the danger, and all the more seriouslysince in going to Belchantska he would have to pass the Kozenitseforests.

  Those immense forests began at that period a good way before Yedlina,and continued far beyond Kozenitse to the Vistula, and toward the otherside of the Stenjytsa, and northward to Rytchivol.

  It had seemed to Pan Gideon that, if he left Radom before midday, hewould reach home very easily at sunset. Meanwhile he had been forced ina number of places to open the road close to fences; some hours werelost at this labor, so that he came to Yedlina about twilight. Menthere gave the warning that he would better remain for the night in thevillage; but since at the blacksmith's a pitch light had been found toburn before the carriage, Pan Gideon commanded to continue the journey.

  And now night had surprised him in the wilderness.

  It was difficult to go faster because of increasing snowdrifts; hencePan Gideon was more and more disquieted and at last fell to swearing,but in Latin, lest he frighten the two ladies who were with him, PainsVinnitski his relative and his ward Panna Anulka Sieninski.

  Panna Anulka was young and high-hearted, in no degree timid. On thecontrary, she drew aside the leather curtain at the window, and,commanding the horseman at the side not to stop the view to her, lookedat the drifts very joyfully, and at the pine trunks with long strips ofsnow on them over which played reddish gleams from the pitch pot, whichwith the moonlight made moving figures very pleasant to her eyesight.Then rounding her lips to the form of a bird bill she began to whistle,her breath became visible and was rosier than firelight, this tooamused her.

  But Pani Vinnitski, who was old and quite timid, fell to complaining.

  Why leave Radom, or at least why not pass the night in Yedlina sincethey had been warned of the danger? All this through some person'sstubbornness. To Belchantska there was a long piece of road yet, andall in a forest, hence wolves would meet them undoubtedly, unlessRaphael, the Archangel and patron of travellers, would pity them intheir wandering, but alas, of this they were quite undeserving.

  When he heard this opinion, Pan Gideon became thoroughly impatient. Tospeak of being lost in the wilderness was all that was needed to upsethim.

  The road for that matter was straight, and as for wolves, well, theywould or would not come. He had good attendants, and besides, a wolf isnot anxious to meet with a warrior--not only because he fears him farmore than a common man, but also because of the love which thequick-witted beast has for warriors.

  The wolf understands well that no dweller in towns and no peasant willgive him food gratis; the warrior alone is the man who feeds wolves,and at times in abundance, hence it is not without reason that men havecalled war "the wolf's harvest."

  But still Pan Gideon speaking thus, and praising the wolves in somesmall degree, was not quite convinced of their affection; hence he wasthinking whether or not to command an attendant to slip from his horseand sit next the young lady. In such case he himself would defend onedoor of the carriage, and that attendant the other, while the freedhorse would either rush off ahead or escape in the rear, and thus drawthe wolves after him.

  But the time to do this had not come, as it seemed to Pan Gideon.Meanwhile he placed near his ward on the front seat, a knife and twopistols; these he wished to have near him since he had only his righthand for service.

  They advanced some furlongs farther in quiet, and the road was growingwider. Pan Gideon, who knew the way perfectly, drew breath as ifrelieved somewhat.

  "The Malikov field is not far," said he.

  In every case he hoped for more safety in that open space than in theforest.

  But just then the attendant in front turned his horse suddenly, and,rushing to the carriage, spoke hurriedly to the driver and to others,who answered abruptly, as men do when there is no time for loitering.

  "What is it?" asked Pan Gideon.

  "Some noise in the field."

  "Is it wolves?"

  "Some outcry. God knows what!"

  Pan Gideon was on the point of commanding the horseman with the torchto spring forward and see what was happening, when he remembered thatin cases like this it was better not to be without fire and to keep allhis people together, and, further, that defence in the open is easierthan in a forest, so he commanded to move on with the equipage.

  But after a while the horseman reappeared at the window.

  "Wild boars," said he.

  "Wild boars!"

  "A terrible grunting is heard on the right of the road."

  "Praise God for that!"

  "But perhaps wolves have attacked them."

  "Praise God for that also! We shall pass unmolested. Move on!"

  In fact the guess of the attendant proved accurate. When they haddriven out to the field they saw, at a distance of two or threebow-shots on the right near the road, a dense crowd of wild boars, anda circle of wolves moving nimbly around them. A terrible grunting, notof fear but of rage, was given out with growing vigor. When the sleighreached the middle of the plain, the men, watching from the horses,observed that the wolves had not dared yet to rush at the wild boars;they only pressed on them more and more eagerly.

  The boars had arranged themselves in a round compact body, the young inthe middle, the old and the strong on the outside, thus, as it were,forming a moving and terrible fortress, which gleamed with white tusksand was impervious to attack or to terror.

  Between the garland of wolves and that wall of tusks and snouts awhite, snowy ring was clearly visible, since the whole field was inmoonlight.

  Some of the wolves sprang up to the boars, but they sprang back veryquickly, as if frightened by the clash of the tusks and the moreterrible outbursts of grunting. If the wolves had closed in battle withthe boars the struggle would have then held them completely, and thesleigh might have passed without notice; but since this had nothappened, there was fear lest they might stop that dreadful onset andtry then another one.

  Indeed after a
while a few dropped away from the pack and ran towardthe party, after them followed others. But the sight of armed menconfused them; some began to follow the sleigh, others stopped a fewtens of steps from it, or ran around with mad speed, as if to urgethemselves on to the equipage.

  The attendants wished to fire, but Pan Gideon forbade them, lestgunshots might bring the whole pack to his people.

  Meanwhile the horses, though accustomed to wolves, began to push to oneside and turn their heads to their flanks with loud snorting, but soonsomething worse happened, and this raised the danger a hundredfold.

  The young horse which the torchbearer was riding reared suddenly once,and a second time, and then rushed madly sidewise.

  The rider, knowing that were he to fall he would be torn to bits thenext moment, seized hold of his saddle-bow, but dropped his pot thesame instant; the light sank in the snow deeply; the flame threw outsparks and was extinguished. The light of the moon was alone on thatplain then.

  The driver, a Russ from Pomorani, began to pray; the Mazovianattendants fell to cursing.

  Emboldened by darkness, the wolves pressed on with more insolence, andfrom the direction of the wild boars some fresh ones ran up to them. Afew came rather near, with snapping teeth, and the hair standingstraight on their shoulders. Their eyes were all bloodshot, and agreenish light flashed from them.

  A moment had come which was really terrible.

  "Shall we shoot?" inquired one of the escort.

  "Frighten them with shouts," said Pan Gideon.

  Thereupon rose with keenness, "A-hu! a-hu!" The horses gained courage,and the wolves, impressed by the voices of men, withdrew some tens ofpaces.

  Then a still greater wonder was manifest.

  All at once forest echoes from behind repeated the shouts of theattendants, but with rising force, ever louder and louder, as it wereoutbursts of wild laughter; and some moments later a crowd of darkhorsemen appeared at both sides of the carriage and shot past with allthe speed of their beasts toward the wild boars and the wolves whichencircled them.

  In the twinkle of an eye neither wolves nor boars held the snow plain;they had scattered as if a whirlwind had struck them. Gunshots wereheard, also shouts, and again those strange outbursts of laughter. PanGideon's attendants rushed after the horsemen, so that there remainedat the sleigh only the postilion and the driver.

  Inside the sleigh there was such mighty amazement that no one daredmove a lip for some moments.

  "But the word became flesh!" called out Pani Vinnitski, at last. "Thatmust be help from above us."

  "May it be blessed, whencesoever it came. Our plight was growing evil,"said Pan Gideon.

  "God sent those young knights!" said Panna Anulka, who wished to addher word.

  It would have been difficult to divine how this maiden could have seenthat those men were knights and young, in addition, for they shot pastlike a whirlwind; but no person asked for her reasons, since the olderman and woman were occupied overmuch with what was happening beforethem.

  Meanwhile, on the plain the sounds of pursuit were heard yet for thespace of some Our Fathers, and not very far from the sleigh was a wolfwith its back broken, evidently by a sling-shot. The beast was on itshaunches and howling so dreadfully that every one shivered.

  The man on the leading horse slipped down to kill the beast, for thehorses were plunging with such violence that the sleigh-pole wascracking.

  After a time the horsemen seemed black again on the snow field. Theycame in a crowd, without order, in a mist, for though the night wascold and the air very clear, the horses had been driven unsparingly,and were smoking like chimneys.

  The horsemen approached with loud laughter and singing, and when theyhad drawn near, one of them shot up to the sleigh, and asked in glad,resonant accents,--

  "Who is travelling?"

  "Pangovski from Belchantska. Whom am I to thank for this rescue?"

  "Stanislav Tsyprianovitch of Yedlinka!"

  "The Bukoyemskis!"

  "Thanks to your mightinesses. God sent you in season. Thanks!"

  "Thanks!" repeated a youthful voice.

  "Glory to God that it was in season!" continued Pan Stanislav, removinghis fur cap.

  "From whom did ye hear of us?"

  "No one informed us, but as the wolves are now running in packs, werode out to save people; since a person of such note has been found,our delight is the greater, and the greater our service to God," saidPan Stanislav, politely.

  But one of the Bukoyemskis now added,--

  "Not counting the wolf skins."

  "A beautiful deed and a real knightly work," said Pan Gideon. "Godgrant us to give thanks for it as promptly as possible. I think, too,that desire for human flesh has left those wolves now, and that weshall reach home without danger."

  "That is by no means so certain. Wolves might be enticed again easilyand make a new onrush."

  "There is no help against that; but we will not surrender!"

  "There is help, namely this: to attend you to the mansion. It mayhappen that we shall save some one else as we travel."

  "I dared not ask for that, but since such is your kindness, let it beas you say, for the ladies here will feel safer."

  "I have no fear as we are, but from all my soul I am grateful!" saidPanna Anulka.

  Pan Gideon gave the order and they moved forward, but they had goneonly a few tens of paces when the cracked sleigh-pole was broken andthe equipage halted.

  New delays.

  The attendants had ropes and fell to mending the broken partsstraightway, but it was unknown whether such a patched work would notcome apart after some furlongs.

  Pan Stanislav hesitated somewhat, and then said, removing his fur cap asecond time,--

  "To Yedlinka through the fields it is nearer than to Belchantska. Honorour house then, your mightiness, and spend the night under our rooftree. No man can tell what might meet us in that forest, or whethereven now we may not be too few to resist all the wolves that will rushto the roadway. We will bring home the sleigh in some fashion, and theshorter the road is the easier our problem. It is true that the honorsurpasses the service, but the case being one of sore need a man maynot cherish pride over carefully."

  Pan Gideon did not answer those words at the moment, for he feltreproach in them. He called to mind that when two years before PanSerafin Tsyprianovitch had made him a visit, he received the mangraciously, it is true, but with a known haughtiness, and did not payback the visit. Pan Gideon had acted in that way since Pan Serafin'sfamily was noble only two generations, he was a "homo novus," anArmenian by origin. His grandfather had bought and sold brocades inKamenyets. Yakob, the son of that merchant, had served in the artilleryunder the famous Hodkievitch, and at Hotsim had rendered such servicethat, through the power of Pan Stanislav Lyubomirski, he had beenennobled, and then received Yedlinka for a lifetime. That life estatewas made afterward the property of Pan Serafin, his heir, in return fora loan given the Commonwealth during Swedish encounters. The young manwho had come to the road with such genuine assistance was the son ofPan Serafin.

  Pan Gideon felt this reproof all the more, since the words "cherishpride over carefully" had been uttered by Pan Stanislav with studiedemphasis and rather haughtily. But just that knightly courage pleasedthe old noble, and since it would have been hard to refuse theassistance, and since the road to his own house was in truth long anddangerous, he said to Pan Stanislav,--

  "Unless you had assisted us the wolves would perhaps be gnawing ourbones at this moment; let me pay with good-will for your kindness.Forward then, forward!"

  The sleigh was now mended. The pole had been broken as if an axe hadgone through it, so they tied one end of each rope to a runner, theother to a collar, and moved on in a large gladsome company, amidshouts from attendants and songs from the Bukoyemskis.

  It was no great distance to Yedlinka, which was rather a forest farmthan a village. Soon there opened in front of the wayfarers a largefield some tens of furlongs in are
a, or rather a broad clearingenclosed on four sides by a pine wood, and on this plain a certainnumber of houses, the roofs of which, covered with straw, were gleamingand sparkling in moonlight.

  Beyond peasant cottages, and near them, Pan Serafin's outbuildings werevisible stretching in a circle around the edge of a courtyard, in whichstood the mansion, which was much disproportioned. The pile had beenreconstructed by its latest owners, and from being a small house, inwhich dwelt on a time the king's foresters, it had become large, eventoo large, for such a small forest clearing. From its windows a brightlight was shining, which gave a rosy hue to the snow near the walls ofthe mansion, to the bushes in front of it, and to the wellsweep whichstood on the right of the entrance.

  It was clear that Pan Serafin was expecting his son, and perhaps alsoguests from the road, who might come with him, for barely had thesleigh reached the gate when servants rushed out with torches, andafter the servants came the master himself in a coat made of mink skin,and wearing a weasel-skin cap, which he removed promptly at sight ofthe equipage.

  "What welcome guest has the Lord sent to our wilderness?" inquired he,descending the steps at the entrance.

  Pan Stanislav kissed his father's hand, and told whom he had broughtwith him.

  "I have long wished," said Pan Gideon, as he stepped from the carriage,"to do that to which grievous need has constrained me this evening,hence I bless the more ardently this chance which agrees with my wishso exactly."

  "Various things happen to men, but this chance is for me now so happy,that with delight I beg you to enter my chambers."

  Pan Serafin bowed for the second time, and gave his arm then to PaniVinnitski; the whole company entered behind him.

  The guests were seized straightway by that feeling of contentment whichis felt always by travellers when they come out of darkness and coldinto lighted, warm chambers. In the first, and the other apartments,fires were blazing in broad porcelain chimneys, and servants began tolight here and there gleaming tapers.

  Pan Gideon looked around with a certain astonishment, for the usualhouses of nobles were far from that wealth which struck the eye in PanSerafin's mansion.

  By the light of the fires and the tapers and candles he could see ineach apartment a furnishing such as might not be met with in many acastle: carved chests and bureaus and armchairs from Italy, clocks hereand there, Venetian glass, precious bronze candlesticks, weapons fromthe Orient, which were inlaid with turquoise and hanging from wallmats. On the floors soft Crimean rugs, and on two long walls werepieces of tapestry which would have adorned the halls of any magnate.

  "These came to them from trade," thought Pan Gideon, with well-definedanger, "and now they can turn up their noses and boast of wealth wonnot by weapons."

  But Pan Serafin's heartiness and real hospitality disarmed the oldnoble, and when he heard, somewhat later, the clatter of dishes in thedining-hall near them, he was perfectly mollified.

  To warm the guests who had come out of cold they brought heated, spicedwine immediately. They began then to discuss the recent peril. PanGideon had great praise for Pan Stanislav, who, instead of sitting in awarm room at home, had saved people on the highroad without regardingthe terrible frost, and the toil, and the danger.

  "Of a truth," said he, "thus, in old days, did those famous knightsact, who, wandering through the world, saved men from cannibals,dragons, and various other vile monsters."

  "If any man of them saved such a marvellous princess as this one,"added Stanislav, "he was as happy at that time as we are this minute."

  "No man ever saved a more wonderful maiden! True, as God is dear to me!He has told the whole truth!" cried the four Bukoyemskis withenthusiasm.

  Panna Anulka smiled in so lovely a fashion that two charming dimplesappeared in her cheeks, and she dropped her eyelids.

  But the compliment seemed over bold to Pan Gideon, for his ward, thoughan orphan without property, was descended from magnates, hence hechanged the conversation.

  "But have your graces," asked he, "been moving long on the road in thisfashion?"

  "Since the great snows fell, and we shall keep on till the froststops," said Stanislav.

  "And have ye killed many wolves?"

  "Enough to give overcoats to all of us."

  Here the Bukoyemskis laughed as loud as if four horses were neighing,and when they had quieted a little, Mateush, the eldest one added,--

  "His Grace the King will be proud of his foresters."

  "True," said Pan Gideon. "And I have heard that ye are head forestersin the king's wilderness in these parts. But do not the Bukoyemskisoriginate in the Ukraine?"

  "We are of those Bukoyemskis."

  "Indeed--indeed--of good stock, the Yelo-Bukoyemskis are connected therewith even great houses."

  "And with St. Peter!" added Lukash.

  "Eh!" said Pan Gideon. And he began to look around with suspicion andsternly at the brothers to see if they were not trying to jest withhim. But their faces were clear, and they nodded with earnestconviction, confirming in this way the words of their brother. PanGideon was astonished immensely, and repeated: "Relatives of SaintPeter? But how is that?"

  "Through the Pregonovskis."

  "Indeed! And the Pregonovskis?"

  "Through the Usviats."

  "And the Usviats through some one else," said the old noble, with asmile, "and so on to the birth of Christ, the Lord. So! It is a greatthing to have relatives in a senate down here, but what must it be tohave kinsmen in the heavenly assembly--promotion is certain in thatcase. But how have ye wandered to our wilderness from the Ukraine, formen have told me that ye are some years in this neighborhood?"

  "About three. Rebellions have long since levelled everything in theUkraine, and boundaries have vanished. We would not serve Pagans inpartisan warfare, so we served first in the army and then becametenants till Pan Malchinski, our relative, made us chief foresters inthis place."

  "Yes," said Pan Serafin, "I wondered that we found ourselves side byside in this wilderness, for we are not of this country, but thechanging fortunes of men have transported us hither. The inheritance ofyour mightiness," here he turned to Pan Gideon, "is also, as I know, inRus near the castle of Pomorani."

  Pan Gideon quivered at this, as if some one had struck an open wound inhis body.

  "I had property there, and I have it there still," said he, "but thoseplaces to me are abhorrent, for misfortunes alone struck me there, justlike thunderbolts."

  "The will of God," said Pan Serafin.

  "It is vain to revolt against that; still, life in those regions isdifficult."

  "Your grace, as is known, has served long in the army."

  "Till I lost my arm. I avenged my country's wrongs, and my own there.And if the Lord Jesus will pardon one sin for each head that I tookfrom a pagan, hell, as I trust, will never be seen by me."

  "Of course not, of course not! Service is a merit, and so is suffering.Best of all is it to cast gloomy thoughts from us."

  "Gladly would I be rid of them, still, they do not leave me. Butenough! I am a cripple at present, and this lady's guardian. I haveremoved in old age to a silent region which the enemy never visits. Ilive, as you know, in Belchantska."

  "That is well, and I have acted in like manner," added Pan Serafin."Young men, though it is quiet now on the borders, hurry off to Tartartrails in the hope of adventure, but it is ghastly and woful in placeswhere each man is mourning for some one."

  Pan Gideon put his hand to his forehead where he held it rather long,till at length he said sadly,--

  "Only a peasant or a magnate can live in the Ukraine. When an onrush ofpagans strikes that country the peasant flees to a forest and can livefor some months in it like a wild beast; the magnate can live, for hehas troops and strong castles of his own to protect him. But eventhen--the Jolkievskis lived in those regions and perished, theDanilovitches lived there and perished. Of the Sobieskis, the brotherof our gracious King Yan perished also. And how many others! One of theVis
hnievetskis squirmed on a hook in Stambul till he died there. PrinceKoretski was beaten to death with iron rods. The Kalinovskis aregone,--and before them the Herburts and the Yaglovetskis paid theirblood tribute. How many of the Sieninskis have died at various periods,and once they possessed almost the whole country--what a graveyard!Were I to recount all the names I could not finish till morning. Andwere I to give the names, not of magnates alone but of nobles, a monthwould not suffice me."

  "True! true! So that a man wonders why the Lord God has thus multipliedthose Turks and Tartars. So many of them have been killed that when anearthtiller works in the springtime his ploughshare bites at every stepon the skull of a pagan. Dear God! Even our present king has crushedthem to death in such numbers that their blood would form a largeriver, and still they are coming."

  These words had truth in them. The Commonwealth, rent by disorder andunruliness, could not have strong armies sufficient to end in onemighty struggle the Tartar-Turk avalanche. For that matter, all Europecould not command such an army. Still, the Commonwealth was inhabitedby men of great daring, who would not yield their throats willingly tothe knife of the eastern attacker. On the contrary, to that terribleregion bristling with grave-mounds, and reeking with blood at theborders, Red Russia, Podolia, and the Ukraine, new waves of Polishsettlers followed each after the other; these not only stirred upfertile lands, but their own craving for endless wars, battles, andadventures.

  "The Poles," wrote an old chronicler, "go to Russia for skirmishes withTartars."[1]

  So from Mazovia went peasants; daring nobles went also, for each one ofwhom it was shameful "to die in his bed like a peasant." And there grewup in those red lands mighty magnates, who, not satisfied with actioneven there, went frequently much farther--to Wallachia, or the Crimea,seeking victory, power, death, salvation, and glory.

  It was even said that the Poles did not wish one great war that wouldend the whole question. Though this was not true, still, continualdisturbance was dear to that daring generation--but the invader on hispart paid with blood dearly for his venture.

  Neither the Dobrudja nor Belgorod lands, nor the Crimean reed barrenscould support their wild Tartar denizens, hence hunger drove them tothe border where rich booty was waiting, but death was waiting also,very often.

  The flames of fire lighted up invasions unknown yet to history. Singleregiments cut into bits with their sabres and trampled into dust underhorsehoofs detachments surpassing them tenfold in number. Onlyswiftness beyond reckoning could save the invaders; in general when aTartar band was overtaken by troops of the Commonwealth it was lostbeyond rescue.

  There were expeditions, especially the smaller ones, from which not oneman went back to the Crimea. Terrible in their time both to Turks andto Tartars were Pretvits and Hmieletski; knights of less note,Volodyovski, Pelka, and the elder Rushits, wrote their names down withblood in men's memories. These for some years, or some tens of years,at that time, were resting in their graves and in glory; but even ofthe mighty ones none had drawn so much blood from the followers ofIslam as the king reigning then, Yan Sobieski.

  At Podhaitsi, Kalush, Hotsim, and Lvoff there were lying till that timeunburied such piles of pagan bones that broad fields beneath them wereas white as if snow-covered. At last on all hordes there was terror.The borders drew breath then, and when the insatiable Turk began toseek lighter conquests the whole tortured Commonwealth breathed withmore freedom.

  There remained only painful remembrances.

  Far away from Pan Serafin's dwelling, and next to the castle ofPomorani, stood a tall cross on a hill, and two lances upon it. Twentyand some years before that Pan Gideon had placed this cross on the siteof his fire-consumed mansion, hence, as he thought of that cross and ofall those lives dear to him which had been lost in that region, theheart whined in the old man from anguish.

  But since he was stern to himself and to others, and would not shedtears before strangers, and could not endure paltry pity from any man,he would not speak longer of his misfortunes, and fell to inquiring ofhis host how he lived in that forest inheritance.

  "Here," said Pan Serafin, "is stillness, oh, stillness! When the forestis not sounding, and the wolves are not howling, thou canst almost hearsnow fall. There is calmness, there is fire in the chimney and apitcher of heated wine in the evening--old age needs nothing further."

  "True. But your son?"

  "A young bird leaves the nest sometimes. And here certain trees whisperthat a great war with the pagan is approaching."

  "To that war even gray falcons will hasten. Were it not for this, Ishould fly with the others."

  Here Pan Gideon shook his coat sleeve, in which there was only a bit ofhis arm near the shoulder.

  And Pan Serafin poured out heated wine to him.

  "To the success of Christian weapons!"

  "God grant it! Drink to the bottom."

  Stanislav entertained at the same time Pani Vinnitski, Panna Anulka,and the four Bukoyemskis with a pitcher of wine which steamed quite asactively as the other. The ladies touched the glasses however withtheir lips very sparingly, but the Bukoyemskis needed no urging, hencethe world seemed to them more joyous each moment, and Panna Anulka morebeautiful, so, unable to find words to express their delight, theybegan to look at one another with amazement and panting; then eachnudged another with his elbow. Mateush at last found expression,--

  "We are not to wonder that the wolves wished to try the bones and thebody of this lady, for even a wild beast knows a real tid-bit!"

  Marek, Lukash, and Yan, the three remaining Bukoyemskis slapped theirthighs then in ecstasy.

  "He has hit the nail on the head, he has! A tid-bit! Nothing short ofit!"

  "A Saint Martin's cake!"

  On hearing this Panna Anulka laid one hand on the other, and, feigningterror, said to Stanislav,--

  "Oh, help me, for I see that these gentlemen only saved me from thewolves to eat me themselves."

  "Gracious maiden," said Stanislav, joyfully, "Pan Mateush said that wewere not to wonder at the wolves, but I say I do not wonder at theBukoyemskis."

  "What shall I do then, except to ask who will save me?"

  "Trifle not with sacred subjects!" cried Pani Vinnitski.

  "Well, but these gentlemen are ready to eat me and also auntie. Arethey not?"

  This question remained for some time without answer. Moreover, it waseasy to note from the faces of the brothers that they had much lessdesire for the additional eating. But Lukash, who had quicker wit thanhis brothers, now added, "Let Mateush speak; he is the eldest."

  Mateush was somewhat bothered, and answered, "Who knows what will meethim to-morrow?"

  "A good remark," said Stanislav, "but to what do you apply it?"

  "How to what?"

  "Why, nothing. I only ask, why mention to-morrow?"

  "But knowest thou that love is worse than a wolf, for a man may kill awolf, but to kill love is beyond him."

  "I know, but that again is another question."

  "But if there be wit enough, a question is nothing."

  "In that case may God give us wit."

  Panna Anulka hid her laughter behind her palm; after her laughedStanislav, and then the Bukoyemskis. Further word-play was stopped by aservant announcing the supper.

  Pan Serafin gave his arm to Pani Vinnitski; after them went Pan Gideon;Stanislav conducted Panna Anulka.

  "A dispute with Pan Bukoyemski is difficult," said the young lady, madegladsome.

  "For his reasons are like wilful horses, each goes its own way; but hehas told two truths which are hard of denial."

  "What is the first one?"

  "That no man knows what will meet him on the morrow, just as yesterdayI did not know, for example, that to-day I should see you."

  "And the other?"

  "That a man can kill a wolf, but to kill love is beyond him. This alsois a great truth."

  Stanislav sighed; the young lady lowered her shady eyelashes and wassilent. Only after a while, when t
hey were sitting at the table, didshe say to him,--

  "But you will come, gentlemen, soon to my guardian's, so that he mayshow you some gratitude for saving us and for your hospitality also?"

  The gloomy feelings of Pan Gideon brightened notably at supper, andwhen the host in splendid phrases proposed first the health of theladies and that of the honored guest afterward, the old noble answeredvery cordially, thanking for the rescue from difficult straits, andgiving assurance of never-ending gratitude.

  After that they conversed of public questions, of the king, of the Dietwhich was to meet the May following of the war with which the TurkishSultan was threatening the German Empire, and for which that Knight ofMalta, Pan Lyubomirski, was bringing in volunteers.

  The four brothers listened with no slight curiosity, because every Polewas received with open arms among Germans; since the Turks despisedGerman cavalry, while Polish horsemen roused proper terror.

  Pan Gideon blamed Lyubomirski's pride somewhat, since he spoke ofGerman counts thuswise: "Ten of them could find place in one glove ofmine;" still, he praised the man's knightliness, boundless daring, andgreat skill in warfare.

  On hearing this, Lukash Bukoyemski declared for himself and hisbrothers that in spring they would hasten to Lyubomirski, but while thefrost raged they would kill wolves, and avenge the young lady, asbehooved them.

  "For, though we are not to wonder at the wolves," said Mateush, "whenone thinks that such a pure dove might have been turned into wolf'smeat the heart flies to the throat from pure anger, and at the sametime it is hard to keep tears down. What a pity that wolf skins are solow-priced,--the Jews give barely one thaler for three of them!--but itis hard to keep our tears down, and even better to give way to them,for whoso could not compassionate innocence and virtue would be asavage, whom no man should name as a knight and a noble."

  In fact, he gave way to his tears then, as did his three brothers;though wolves in the worst case could threaten only the life, not thevirtue of the lady, still the eloquence of Lukash so moved his threebrothers that their hearts became soft as warmed wax while theylistened. They wished to shoot in the air from their pistols in honorof the young lady; but the host opposed, saying that he had a sickforester in the mansion, a man of great merit, who needed silence.

  Pan Gideon, who supposed this to be some reduced relative of PanSerafin, or in the worst case a village noble, inquired touching him,through politeness; but on learning that he was a serving-man and apeasant he shrugged his shoulders and looked with displeased andwondering eyes at Pan Serafin.

  "Oh yes!" said he. "I forgot what people say of your marvellouskindness."

  "God grant," answered Pan Serafin, "that they say nothing worse of me.I have to thank this man for much; and may every one meet such aperson, for he knows herbs very thoroughly and can give aid in everyillness."

  "I wonder, since he cures others so ably, that he has not cured himselfthus far. Send him my relative, Pani Vinnitski,--she knows manysimples, and presses them on people; but meanwhile permit us to thinkof retiring, for the road has fatigued me most cruelly, and the winehas touched me also a trifle, just as it has the Bukoyemskis."

  In fact, the heads of the Bukoyemskis were steaming, while the eyes ofthose brothers were mist-covered and tender; so when Pan Stanislavconducted them to another building, where they were to pass the nighttogether, they followed him with most uncertain tread on frozen snow,which squeaked under them. They wondered why the moon, instead ofshining in the heavens, was perched on the roof of a barn and wassmiling.

  But Panna Anulka had dropped into their hearts so profoundly that theywished to speak more of her.

  Pan Stanislav, who felt no great wish for sleep, directed to bring athick-bellied bottle; then they sat near the broad chimney, and, by thebright light of the torch, drank in silence at first, listening only tothe crickets in the chamber. At last Mateush filled his breast wellwith air and blew with such force at the chimney that the flame bentbefore him.

  "O Jesus! My dear brothers," cried he, "weep, for a sad fate has metme."

  "What fate? Speak, do not hide thy condition!"

  "It is this. I am so in love that the knees are weakening under me!"

  "And I? Dost think that I am not in love?" shouted Marek.

  "And I?" screamed out Lukash.

  "And I," ended Yan.

  Mateush wanted to give them an answer of some kind, but could not atfirst, for a hiccough had seized him. He only stared with greatwonderment, and looked as if he saw them for the first time in life atthat moment. Then rage was depicted on his countenance.

  "How is this, O sons of a such a one?" cried he, "ye wish to block theroad to your eldest brother, and deprive him of happiness?"

  "O indeed!" answered Marek, "what does this mean? Is Panna Anulka anentail of some kind, that only the eldest brother can get her? We aresons of one father and mother, so if thou call us sons of a such a one,thou art blaming thy father and mother. Each man is free to love as hechooses."

  "Free, but woe to you, for ye are all bound to me in obedience."

  "Must we all our lives serve a horseskull? Hei?"

  "O pagan, thou art barking like a dog!"

  "Thou art thyself doing that. Jacob was younger than Esau, and Josephwas younger than all his brothers, so thou art blaming the Scriptures,and barking against true religion."

  Pushed to the wall by these arguments, Mateush could not find an answerwith promptness, and when Yan made some remark touching Cain, the firstbrother, he lost his head utterly. Anger rose in him higher and higher,till at last he began with his right hand to search for the sabre whichhe had not there with him. It is unknown to what it would have come hadnot Yan, who for some time had been pressing a finger to his forehead,as if wrestling with an idea, cried out in a great voice, andsuddenly,--

  "I am the youngest brother, I am Joseph, so Panna Anulka is for me.undisputedly."

  The others turned to him straightway. From their eyes were shootingfire sparks, in their faces was indignation.

  "What? For thee? For thee! thou goose egg! thou straw scarecrow, thouhorse strangler, thou dry slipper--thou drunkard! For thee?"

  "Shut thy mouth, it is written in the Scriptures."

  "What Scriptures, thou dunce?"

  "All the same--but it is there. Ye are drunk, not I."

  But at this moment Pan Stanislav happened in among them.

  "Ah, is it not a shame for you," said he, "being nobles and brothers toraise such a quarrel? Is this the way to nourish love among brothers?But about what are ye fighting? Is Panna Anulka a mushroom that thefirst man who finds her in the forest can put her in his basket? It isthe custom among pelicans, and they are not nobles, or even people, toyield everything through family affection, and when they fail to findfish they feed one another with blood from their own bodies. Think ofyour dead parents; they are shedding tears up there now over thisquarrelling among sons whom they surely advised to act differently fromthis when they blessed them. For those parents heavenly food is nowtasteless, and they dare not raise their eyes to the Evangelists whosenames they gave you in holy baptism."

  Thus spoke Pan Stanislav and though at first he wished to laugh he wastouched as he spoke by his own words, for he too had drunk somewhatbecause of the company at dinner. At last the Bukoyemskis were greatlymoved by his speech, and all four of them ended in tears, while Mateushthe eldest one cried to them,--

  "Oh kill me, for God's sake, but call me not Cain!"

  Thereupon Yan, who had mentioned Cain, threw himself into the arms ofMateush.

  "Oh, brother," cried he, "give me to the hangman for doing so."

  "Forgive me, or I shall burst open from sorrow," cried Marek.

  "I have barked like a dog against the commandment," said Lukash.

  And they fell to embracing one another, but Mateush freed himselffinally from his brothers, sat on a bench very suddenly, unbuttoned hiscoat, threw open his shirt, and, baring his breast, exclaimed in brokenaccents,--

>   "Here ye have me! here, like a pelican!"

  Thereupon they sobbed the more loudly.

  "A pelican! a genuine pelican! As God is dear to me,--a pelican!"

  "Take Panna Anulka."

  "She is thine! Take her, thou," said the brothers.

  "Let the youngest man have her."

  "Never! Impossible!"

  "Devil take her!"

  "Devil take her!"

  "We don't want her!"

  Hereupon Marek struck his thighs with his palms till the chamberresounded.

  "I know what's to be done," cried he.

  "What dost thou know? Speak, do not hide it!"

  "Let Stanislav have her!"

  When they heard this the other three sprang from their benches. Marek'sidea struck them to the heart so completely that they surrounded PanStanislav.

  "Take her, Stashko!"

  "It will please us most of all."

  "If thou love us!"

  "Do this to please us!"

  "May God bless you!" cried Mateush; and he raised his eyes heavenward,as he stretched his hands over Stanislav.

  Stanislav blushed, and he stood there astonished, repeating,--

  "Fear God's wounds!"

  But his heart quivered at the thought, for having passed two wholeyears with his father amid the dense forests, and seeing few people, hehad not met for a legion of days such a marvellous maiden. He had seensome one like her in Brejani, for he had been sent by his father togain elegance at the court there and a knowledge of government. But hewas a lad then, and time had effaced those remote recollections. Andnow he saw in the midst of those forests unexpectedly just such abeautiful flower as the other one, and men said to him straightway: "Ohtake it!" In view of this he was dreadfully shamefaced and answered,--

  "Fear God! How could ye or I get her?"

  But they, as is usual with men who are tipsy, saw no obstacle toanything and insisted.

  "No man of us will be jealous," said Marek, "take her! We must go tothe war whatever happens; we have had watching enough in this forest.Thirty thalers for the whole God-given year. It does not buy drink forus, and what is there left then for clothing? We sold our saddlebeasts, and now we hunt wolves with thy horses and outfits--A hard lotfor orphans. Better perish in war--But take her thou, if thou love us!"

  "Take her!" cried out Mateush, "but we will go to Rakuz, toLyubomirski, to help the Germans in shelling out pagans."

  "Take her immediately."

  "Take her to-morrow! To the church with her straightway!"

  But Stanislav had recovered from astonishment and was as sober as if hehad not touched a drop since the morning.

  "Oh, stop, what are ye saying? Just as if only your will or mine wereall that is needed! But what will she say and what will Pan Gideon say?Pan Gideon is self-willed and haughty. Even though the young lady grewfriendly in time, he might prefer to see her sow rue than be the wifeof any poor devil like me, or like any one of you brothers."

  "Oh pshaw!" exclaimed Yan. "Is Pan Gideon the Castellan of Cracow, orgrand hetman? If he is too high for us let him beware how he thrusts uphis nose in our presence. Are the Bukoyemskis too small to be hisgossips?"

  "Ah, never mind! He is old, the time of his death is not distant, lethim have a care lest he be stopped by Saint Peter in heaven's gateway.Oh take our part! holy Peter, and say this to him: 'Thou didst not knowduring life, thou son of a such a one, how to respect my bloodrelatives; kiss now the dog's snout for thy conduct.' Let that be saidafter death to Pan Gideon. But meanwhile we will not let him belittleus in his lifetime."

  "How! because we have no fortune must we be despised and treated likepeasants?"

  "Is that the pay for our blood, for our wounds, for our service to thecountry?"

  "O my brothers, ye orphans of God! many an injustice has met you, butone more grievous than this no man has ever yet put on us."

  "That is true, that is true!" exclaimed Lukash and Marek and Yan in sadaccents.

  And tears of grief flowed down their faces afresh and abundantly, butwhen they had wept out their fill they fell to storming, for it seemedto them that such an offence to men of birth should not be forgotten.

  Lukash, the most impulsive of all the four brothers, was the first tomake mention of this matter.

  "It is difficult to challenge him to sabres," said he, "for he has lostan arm and is old, but if he has contemned us, we must havesatisfaction. What are we to do? Think of this!"

  "My feet have been frozen to-night," said Lukash, "and are burningtremendously. But for this, I could think out a remedy."

  "My feet are not burning, but my head is on fire," added Marek.

  "From that which is empty thou wilt never pour anything."

  "Gland is blamed always by Katchan!" said Mateush.

  "Ye give a quarrel instead of an answer!" cried Lukash. But Stanislavinterrupted;--

  "An answer?" said he, "but to whom?"

  "To Pan Gideon."

  "An answer to what?"

  "To what? How 'to what'?"

  They looked at one another, with no small astonishment, and then turnedto Lukash,--

  "What dost thou wish of us?"

  "But what do ye wish of me?"

  "Adjourn this assembly till daylight," said Stanislav. "The fire hereis dying, midnight is past now a long time. The beds are all ready atthe walls there, and rest is ours honestly, for we have worked in thefrost very faithfully."

  The fire had gone out; it was dark in the chamber, so the advice of thehost had power to convince the four brothers. Conversation continuedsome little time yet, but with decreasing intensity. Somewhat later awhispered "Our Father" was heard, at one moment louder, at another onelower, interrupted now and then with deep sighing.

  The coals in the chimney began to grow dark and be covered with ashes;at moments something squeaked near the fire, and the crickets chirpedsadly in the corners, as if mourning for the light which had left them.Next the sound of boots cast from feet to the floor, after that a shortinterval of silence, and then immense snoring from the four sleepingbrothers.

  But Stanislav could not sleep, all his thoughts whirled about PannaAnulka, like active bees about blossoms.

  How could a man sleep with such a buzzing in his cranium! He closed hislids, it is true, once and a second time, but finding that useless hepondered.

  "I will see if there is light in her chamber," thought he, finally.

  And he passed through the doorway.

  There was no light in her windows, but the gleam of the moon quiveredon the uneven panes as on wrinkled water. The world was silent, andsleeping so soundly that even the snow seemed to slumber in the bath ofgreenish moonlight.

  "Dost thou know that I am dreaming of thee?" asked Stanislav in awhisper, as he looked at the silent window.

  The elder Tsyprianovitch, Pan Serafin, in accordance with his inbornhospitality, and his habit, spared neither persuasion nor pressing todetain his guests longer in Yedlinka. He even knelt before PaniVinnitski, an act which did not come easily because of his gout, which,though moderate so far, was somewhat annoying. All that, however,availed not. Pan Gideon insisted on going before midday, and at last,since there was no answer to the statement that he was looking forguests at his mansion, Pan Serafin had to yield, and they started thatclear frosty forenoon of wonderful weather. The snow on the fields, andon tree branches, seemed covered with myriads of fire sparks, which soglittered in the sunlight that the eye could barely suffer the gleamsshooting back from the earth and the forest. The horses moved at avigorous trot till their flanks panted; the sleigh runners whistledalong the snow road; the carriage curtains were pushed back on bothsides, and now at one window and now at the other appeared the rosyface of the young lady with gladsome eyes and a nose which the frosthad reddened somewhat, a charming framed picture.

  She advanced like a queen, for the carriage was encircled by a "lifeguard" made up of the Bukoyemskis and Pan Stanislav. The four brotherswere riding strong beasts from
the Yedlinka stables (they had sold orpledged not only their horses but the best of their sabres). Theyrushed on now at the side, sometimes forcing their horses to rear, andsometimes urging them on with such impetus that balls torn from thefrozen snow by their hoofs shot away whistling through the air likestone missiles.

  Perhaps Pan Gideon was not greatly charmed with these body-guards, forduring the advance he begged the cavaliers not to give themselvestrouble, since the road in the daytime was safe, and of robbers in theforest no report had arisen; but when they had insisted on conductingthe ladies, nothing was left him but to pay for politeness withpoliteness, and invite them to Belchantska. Pan Gideon had a promisealso from Pan Serafin to visit him, but only after some days, since itwas difficult for an old man to tear himself free of his householdabruptly.

  For the men, this journey passed quickly in wonders of horsemanship,and for Panna Anulka in appearing at the windows. The first halt togive rest to their horses was half-way on the road, at a forest innwhich bore the ill omened name "Robbery." Next the inn stood a shed andthe shop of a blacksmith. In front of his shop the blacksmith wasshoeing some horses. At the side of the inn were seen sleighs owned bypeasants; to these were attached lean, rough-coated sorry little beastscovered over completely with hoar frost; their tails were between theirhind-legs, and bags of oats were tied under their noses.

  People crowded out of the inn to look at the carriage surrounded bycavaliers and remained at a distance. These were not land tillers butpotters, who made their pots at Kozenitse in the summer and took themin sleighs to sell during winter in the villages; but they appearedmore especially at festivals through the country. These people,thinking that some man of great dignity must be travelling in acarriage with such an escort, took their caps off in spite of theweather and looked with curiosity at the party.

  The warmly dressed travellers did not leave the equipage. Theattendants remained mounted, but a page took wine in a decanter to theinn to be heated. Meanwhile Pan Gideon beckoned "the bark shoes" tocome to him, and then he fell to inquiring whence they came, whitherthey were going, and was there no danger from wild beasts in any place.

  "Of course there is," answered an old town-dweller, "but we travelduring daylight and in company. We are waiting here for friends fromPrityk and other places. Perhaps too some earth tillers will come, andif fifteen or twenty sleighs appear, we will move on at night. Unlessthey come we will not start, though we take clubs with us."

  "But has no accident happened about here?"

  "The wolves ate a Jew during daylight. He was taking geese, as itseems, for on the road were found bones of a horse and a man,--besides,there were goose feathers. People knew by his cap that the man was aJew. But early this morning some man came hither on foot, a youngnoble, who passed the whole night on a pine tree. He says that hishorse dropped down dead, and there before his eyes the wolves ate thebeast up. This man grew so stiff on the tree that he had barelystrength to speak to us, and now he is sleeping."

  "What is his name? Did he tell whence he came?"

  "No. He just drank some hot beer and fell on a bench as if lifeless."

  Pan Gideon turned then to the horsemen,--

  "Have ye heard that?"

  "We have."

  "We must rouse the man, and make inquiries. He has no horse, how couldwe leave him alone here? My page could sit on the second front carriagehorse, and give up his own. They say that the man is a noble. Perhapshe is here from a distance."

  "He must be in a hurry," said Pan Stanislav, "since he was travellingat night, and besides without company. I will rouse him and makeinquiry."

  But his plan proved superfluous, since at that moment the page returnedfrom the inn with a tray on which mugs of hot wine were steaming.

  "I beg to tell your grace that Pan Tachevski is here," began he onreaching the carriage.

  "Pan Tachevski? What the devil is he doing in this place?"

  "Pan Tachevski!" repeated Panna Anulka.

  "He is making ready, and will come out this minute," said the page. "Healmost knocked the tray from my hand when he heard of your coming--"

  "But who spoke of the tray to thee?"

  The page became silent immediately, as if power of speech had desertedhim.

  Pan Gideon seized a goblet of wine, took one and a second draught, andsaid then to Pan Stanislav, as if with a certain repulsion,--

  "He is an acquaintance of ours, and in some sense a neighbor fromCharny-- Well--rather giddy and unreliable--of those Tachevskis wholong ago were, as some people say, of some note in the province."

  Further explanations were stopped by Tachevski, who, coming outhurriedly, walked with firm stride toward the carriage, but on his facewas a certain hesitation. He was a young noble of medium stature. Hehad splendid dark eyes, and was as lean as a splinter. His head wascovered with a Hungarian cap, recalling, one might say, the time ofKing Batory; he wore a gray coat lined with sheepskin, and long,yellow, Swedish boots reaching up to his body. No one wore such bootsthen in Poland. They had been taken during war in the days of YanKazimir, that was evident, and brought now through need from thestorehouse by Tachevski. While approaching, he looked first at PanGideon, then at the young lady, and smiled, showing white, perfectteeth, but his smile was rather gloomy, his face showed embarrassmentand even a trace of confusion.

  "I rejoice beyond measure," said he, as he stood at the carriage andremoved his cap gracefully, "to see, in good health, Pani Vinnitski andPanna Sieninski, with your grace, my benefactor, for the road is nowdangerous; this I have learned from experience."

  "Cover your head, or your ears will be frozen," said Pan Gideon,abruptly. "I thank you for the attention, but why are you wanderingthrough the wilderness?"

  Tachevski looked quickly at the young lady, as if to inquire: "Thouknowst why, dost thou not?" but seeing her eyes downcast, and notingalso that she was biting a ribbon of her hood for occupation, heanswered in a voice of some harshness,--

  "Well, the fancy struck me to gaze at the moon above pine trees."

  "A pretty fancy. But did the wolves kill thy horse?"

  "They only ate him, for I myself drove his life out."

  "We know. And thou wert roosting, like a crow, all the night in a pinetree."

  Here the Bukoyemskis burst into such mighty laughter that their horseswere put on their haunches. Tachevski turned and measured them oneafter another, with glances which were ice cold and as sharp as a swordedge.

  "Not like a crow," said he then to Pan Gideon, "but like a horselessnoble, at which condition it is granted you, my benefactor, to laugh,but it may be unhealthy for another to do so."

  "Oho! oho! oho!" repeated the Bukoyemskis, urging toward him theirhorses. Their faces grew dark in one moment, and their mustachesquivered. Again Tachevski measured them, and raised his head higher.

  But Pan Gideon spoke with a voice as severe and commanding as if he hadpower over all of them.

  "No quarrels here, I beg! This is Pan Tachevski," said he after awhile, with more mildness, turning to the cavaliers, "and this is PanTsyprianovitch, and each of the other four nobles is a Pan Bukoyemski,to whom I may say we owe our lives, for wolves met us yesterday. Thesegentlemen came to our aid unexpectedly, and God knows in season."

  "In season," repeated Panna Anulka, with emphasis, pouting a little,and looking at Pan Stanislav bewitchingly.

  Tachevski's cheeks flushed, but on his face there appeared as it werehumiliation, his eyes became mist-covered, and, with immense sadness inhis accents, he said,--

  "In season, for they were in company, and happy because on good horses,but wolf teeth at that time were cutting old Voloshyn, and my lastfriend had vanished. But--" even here he looked with greater good-willat the Bukoyemskis--"may your hands be sacred, for ye have done thatwhich with my whole soul I wished to do, but God did not let me."

  Panna Anulka seemed changeable, like all women, perhaps too she wassorry for Tachevski, since her eyes became pleasant and twinkling, herlids opened and clo
sed very quickly, and she asked with a differentvoice altogether,--

  "Old Voloshyn? My God, I loved him so much and he knew me. My God!"

  Tachevski looked at her straightway with thankfulness.

  "He knew you, gracious lady, he knew you."

  "Grieve not, Pan Yatsek, grieve not so cruelly."

  "I grieved before this, but on horseback. I shall grieve now on foot.God reward you, however, for the kind words."

  "But mount now the mouse-colored horse," said Pan Gideon. "The pagewill ride the off leader, or sit behind the carriage. There is an extraburka at the saddle, put it on, for thou hast been freezing all night,and the cold is increasing."

  "No," said Tachevski, "I am warm. I left my shuba behind, since I feltno need of it."

  "Well, for the road!"

  They started. Yatsek Tachevski taking his place near the left carriagewindow, Stanislav Tsyprianovitch at the right, so the young ladysitting in front might without turning her head look freely at the oneand the other.

  But the Bukoyemskis were not glad to see Yatsek. They were angry thathe had taken a place at the side of the carriage, so, bringing theirhorses together till their heads almost touched, they talked with oneanother and counselled,--

  "He looked at us insolently," said Mateush. "As God is in heaven hewants to insult us."

  "Just now he turned his horse's tail to us. What do ye say to that?"

  "Well, he could not turn the horse's head, for horses do not traveltail forward like crawfish. But that he is making up to that young ladyis certain," put in Marek.

  "Thou hast taken in the situation correctly. See how he bends and leansforward. If his stirrup strap breaks he will fall."

  "He will not fall, the son of a such a one, for the saddle straps arestrong, and he is a firm rider."

  "Bend thyself, bend till we break thee!"

  "Just look how he smiles at her!"

  "Well, brothers, are we to permit this? Never, as God lives! The girlis not for us, that may be, but does he remember what we didyesterday?"

  "Of course! He must divine that, for he is cunning, and now he ismaking up to her to spite us."

  "And in contempt for our poverty and orphanhood."

  "Oh! upon my word a great magnate--on another man's horse."

  "Well, for that matter we are not riding our own beasts."

  "One horse remains to us anyhow, so if three sit at home the fourth manmay ride to the war if he wishes; but that fellow has not even asaddle, for the wolves have made bits of it."

  "Besides, he sticks his nose up. What has he against us? Just tell me."

  "Well, ask him."

  "Shall I do it right away?"

  "Eight away, but politely, so as not to offend old Pan Gideon. Onlyafter he has answered can we challenge."

  "And then we shall have him!"

  "Which of us is to do this?"

  "I, of course, for I am the eldest," said Mateush. "I will rub theicicle from my mustache, and then at him!"

  "But remember well what he says to thee."

  "I will repeat every word, like the Lord's prayer."

  Thereupon the eldest Bukoyemski set to rubbing off with his glove theice from his mustache, and then urging his horse to the horse of PanYatsek he called,--

  "My dear Sir?"

  "What?" inquired Yatsek, turning his head from the carriageunwillingly.

  "What have you against us?"

  Yatsek looked at him with astonishment, and answered,--

  "Nothing!" then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned again to thecarriage.

  Mateush rode on some time in silence considering whether to return andreport to his brothers or speak further. The second course seemed tohim better, so he continued,--

  "If thou think to do anything, I say that thou wilt do what thou hastsaid to me. Nothing!"

  On Yatsek's face was an expression of constraint and annoyance. Heunderstood that they were seeking a quarrel, for which at that momenthe had not the least wish whatever. But he found need of some answer,and that of such kind as to end the conversation, so he asked,--

  "Well, thy brothers over there, are they also--"

  "Of course! but what is 'also'?"

  "Think it out thyself and do not interrupt now my more agreeableoccupation."

  Mateush rode along the side of the carriage ten or fifteen stepsfarther. At last he turned his horse.

  "What did he tell thee? Speak out!" said the brothers.

  "There was no success."

  "Because thou didst not know how to handle him," said Lukash. "Thoushouldst have tickled his horse in the belly with thy stirrup, or,since thou knowst his name, have said: 'Yatsek, here is a platsek (acake) for thee!'"

  "Or said this to him: 'The wolves ate thy horse, buy a he goat inPrityk.'"

  "That is not lost, but what did it mean when he said: 'Are thy brothersalso?'"

  "Maybe he wanted to ask if we were fools also."

  "Of course! As God is dear to me!" cried Marek. "He could not thinkotherwise. But what now?"

  "His death, or ours. As God lives, what he says is open heresy. We musttell Stashko."

  "Tell nothing, for since we give up the young lady to Stashko, Stashkomust challenge him, and here the great point is that we challengefirst."

  "When? At Pan Gideon's a challenge is not proper. But here isBelchantska."

  In fact Belchantska was not distant. On the edge of the forest stoodthe cross of Pan Gideon's establishment, with a tin Saviour hangingbetween two spears; on the right, where the road turned round a pinewood, broad meadows were visible, with a line of alders on the edge ofa river, and beyond the alders on the bank opposite and higher, werethe leafless tops of tall trees, and smoke rising from cottages. Soonthe retinue was moving past cottages, and when it had gone beyondfences and buildings Pan Gideon's dwelling was before the eyes of thehorsemen,--a broad court surrounded by an old and decayed picket fencewhich in places was leaning.

  From times the most ancient no enemy had appeared in that region, so noone had thought defence needful for the dwelling. In the broad courtthere were two dovecotes. On one side were the quarters for servants,on the other the storehouse, provision rooms, and a big cheese housemade of planks and small timbers. Before the mansion and around thecourt were pillars with iron rings for the halters of horses; on eachpillar a cap of frozen snow was fixed firmly. The mansion was old andbroad, with a low roof of straw. In the court hunting dogs were rushingaround, and among them a tame stork with a broken wing was walkingsecurely; the bird as it seemed had left its warm room a little earlierto get exercise and air in the cold courtyard.

  At the mansion the people were waiting for the company, since PanGideon had sent a man forward with notice. The same man came out now tomeet them and, bowing down, said to Pan Gideon,--

  "Pan Grothus, the starosta of Raygrod, has come."

  "In God's name!" cried Pan Gideon. "Has he been waiting long for me?"

  "Not an hour. He wished to go, but I told him that you were coming andin sight very nearly."

  "Thou didst speak well." Then he turned to the guests,--

  "I beg you, gentlemen, Pan Grothus is a relative through my wife. He isreturning, it is evident, to Warsaw from his brother's, for he is adeputy to the Diet. Please enter."

  After a time they were all in the dining-room in presence of thestarosta of Raygrod, whose head almost grazed the ceiling, for instature he surpassed the Bukoyemskis, and the rooms were exceedinglylow in that mansion. Pan Grothus was a showy noble with an expressionof wisdom, and the face and bald head of a statesman. A sword scar onhis forehead just over the nose and between his two eyebrows seemed afirm wrinkle, giving his face a stern, and, as it were, angry aspect.But he smiled at Pan Gideon with pleasantness, and opened his arms tohim, saying,--

  "Well, I, a guest, am now welcoming the host to his own mansion."

  "A guest, a dear guest," cried Pan Gideon. "God give thee health forhaving come to me, lord brother. What dost thou hear over there now i
nWarsaw?"

  "Good news of private matters, of public also, for war is now coming."

  "War? How is that? Are we making it?"

  "Not yet, but in March a treaty will be signed with the Emperor, thenwar will be certain."

  Though even before the New Year there had been whispers of war with theSultan, and there were those who considered it inevitable, theconfirmation of these rumors from the lips of a person so notable, andintimately acquainted with politics as Pan Grothus, imposed on PanGideon and the guests in his mansion very greatly. Barely had the host,therefore, presented them to the starosta, when a conversation followedtouching war, touching Toekoeli and the bloody struggles throughoutHungary, from which, as from an immense conflagration, there was lightover all parts of Austria and Poland. That was to be a mighty struggle,before which the Roman Caesar and all German lands were then trembling.Pan Grothus, skilled much in public matters, declared that the Portewould move half of Asia and all Africa, and appear with such strengthas the world had not seen up to that day. But these previsions did notinjure good-humor in any one. On the contrary they were listened towith rapture by young men, who were wearied by long peace at home, andto whom war presented fields of glory, service, and even profit.

  When Mateush Bukoyemski heard the words of the starosta he so struckhis knee with his palm that the sound was heard throughout the mansion.

  "Half Asia, and what in addition?" asked he. "O pshaw! Is thatsomething new for us?"

  "Nothing new, thou speakest truth!" said the host, whose face, usuallygloomy, was lighted up now with sudden gladness. "If that question issettled, the call to arms will be issued immediately, and the levieswill begin without loitering."

  "God grant this! God grant it at the earliest! Think now of that oldDeviantkievich at Hotsim, blind of both eyes. His sons aimed his lancein the charge, and he struck on the Janissaries as well as any otherman. But I have no sons."

  "Well, lord brother, if there be any one who can stay at homerightfully you are that person," said the starosta. "It is bad not tohave a son in the war, worse not to have an eye, but worst of all notto have an arm."

  "I accustomed both hands to the sabre," said Pan Gideon, "and in myteeth I can hold the bridle. Moreover, I should like to fall fightingon the field against pagans, not because the happiness of my life hasbeen broken--not from revenge--no--but for this reason, speakingsincerely: I am old, I have seen much, I have meditated deeply, I haveseen among men so much hatred, so much selfishness, so much disorder inthis Commonwealth, I have seen our self-will, our disobedience andbreaking of Diets, so much lawlessness of all sorts, that I say thishere now to you. Many times in desperation have I asked the Lord God:Why, O Lord, hast thou created our Commonwealth, and created thispeople? I ask without answer and it is only when the pagan sea swells,when that vile dragon opens its jaws to devour Christianity andmankind, when, as you say, the Roman Caesar and all German lands areshivering in front of this avalanche, that I learn why God created usand imposed on us this duty. The Turks themselves know this. Other menmay tremble, but we will not, as we have not trembled thus far; so letour blood flow to the very last drop, and let mine be mixed with therest of it. Amen."

  The eyes of Pan Gideon were glittering and he was moved very deeply,but still he let no tears fall from his eyes; it may be because he hadcried them out so much earlier, and it may be because he was harsh tohimself and to others. But Pan Grothus put his arm around his neck andthen he kissed him on both cheeks.

  "True, true," said he. "There is much evil among us, and only withblood may our ransom from evil be effected. That service, that watchingwhich God has given us, was predestined to our people. And the time isapproaching in which we shall prove this. That is our real position.There are tidings that the avalanche of pagans will turn on Vienna;when it does we will go there and before the whole world show that weare purely Christ's warriors, created in defence of the cross, and thefaith of the Saviour. Other nations, who till now have lived withoutcare behind our shoulders, will see in the clear day of heaven how ourtask is accomplished, and with God's will, while the earth stands, ourservice and our glory will not leave us."

  At these words enthusiasm seized the young men. The Bukoyemskis sprangup from their chairs, and called in loud voices,--

  "God grant it! When will the levies be? God grant it!"

  "The souls are tearing out of us," said Stanislav. "We are ready thisminute."

  Yatsek was the only man silent, and his face did not brighten. Thatnews which filled all hearts with pleasure was for him a source of keensuffering and bitterness. His thoughts and his eyes ran to Panna Anulkawho was passing along near the dining-room joyously, and withmeasureless complaint and reproach they spoke thus to her,--

  "Had it not been for thee I should have gone to some magnate, andthough I might not have found fortune, I should have a horse and goodarms in every case, and should go now with a regiment to find death, orelse glory. Thy beauty, thy glances, those pleasant words, which attimes thou didst throw like small alms at me, have brought about this,that I am here on those last little fields of mine, well-nigh expiringfrom hunger. Because of thee I have not seen the great world. I havenot gained any polish. In what have I offended that thou hast enslavedme, as it were, soul and body? And in truth I would rather perish thanbe without seeing thee for a twelvemonth. I have lost my last horse inhurrying to save thee, and now, in return for this, thou art laughingwith another, and glancing at him most bewitchingly. But what shall Ido? War is coming. Am I to be a serving man, or be disgraced among footsoldiers? What have I done that toward me thou art merciless?"

  In this fashion did Yatsek Tachevski complain, he a man who felt hismisery all the more keenly that he was a noble of great knightlyfamily, though terribly impoverished. And though it was not true thatPanna Anulka had never had mercy on him, it was true that for her sakehe had never gone out to the great world, but had remained with onlytwo serfs on poor pasture land where the first wants of life werebeyond him. He was seventeen years of age, and she thirteen, when hefell in love with her beyond memory, and for five years he had lovedthe girl each year increasingly, and each year with more gloominess,for hopelessly. Pan Gideon had received him with welcome at first, asthe scion of a great knightly family to which in former days hadbelonged in those regions whole countrysides; but afterward, when henoted how matters were tending, he began to be harsh to him, and attimes even cruel. He did not close the house against the man, it istrue, but he kept him away from the young lady, since he had for herviews and hopes of another kind altogether. Panna Anulka noting herpower over Yatsek amused herself with him just as a young girl doeswith flowers in a meadow. At times she bends over one, at times sheplucks one, at times she weaves one into her tresses, later she throwsit away, and later thinks nothing of flowers, whatever, and still lateron she searches out new ones.

  Yatsek had never mentioned his love to the young lady, but she knew ofit perfectly, though she feigned not to know, and in general not towish to know of anything which happened within him. She wondered athim, wondered how he pleased her. Once, when they were chasing somebees, she fell under his cloak and fondled up to his heart for amoment, but for two days she would not forgive him because of this. Attimes she treated him almost contemptuously, and when it seemed to himthat all had been ended forever, she, with one sweet look, one heartyword filled him with endless delight, and with hope beyond limit. If attimes, because of a wedding, or a name's day, or a hunt in theneighborhood, he did not come for some days she was lonely, but when hedid come she took revenge on him for her loneliness, and tormented himlong for it. He passed his worst moments when there were guests at themansion, and there happened among them some young man who was cleverand good-looking. Then Yatsek thought that in her heart there was noteven the simplest compassion. Such were his thoughts now because of PanStanislav and all that Pan Grothus had told of the coming war addedbitterness to his cup, which was then overflowing.

  Self-control in Pan Gideon's mansion w
as habitual with Yatsek, still,he could hardly sit to the end of the supper as he heard the words ofthe lady and Pan Stanislav. He saw, unhappy victim, that the other manpleased her, for he was in fact an adroit and agreeable young fellow,and far from being stupid. The talk at table turned always on thelevies. Stanislav, learning from Pan Grothus that perhaps the levieswould be made under him in those regions, turned to the lady on asudden, and asked,--

  "What regiment do you prefer?"

  "The hussars," said she, looking at his shoulders.

  "Because of the wings?"

  "Yes. Once I saw hussars and thought them a heavenly army. I dreamt ofthem afterward two nights in succession."

  "I know not whether I shall dream when a hussar, but I know that Ishall dream of you earlier, and of wings also."

  "Why is that?"

  "I should dream of a real angel."

  Panna Anulka dropped her eyes till a shade fell on her rosy cheeks fromher eyelids.

  "Be a hussar," said she, after an interval.

  Yatsek gritted his teeth, drew his palm over his moistened forehead,and during the supper he did not get word or look from the lady. Onlywhen they had risen from the table did a sweet, beloved voice sound athis ear.

  "But will you go to this war with the others?"

  "To die! to die!" answered Yatsek.

  And in that answer there was such a genuine, true groan of anguish thatthe voice was heard again, as if in sympathy,--

  "Why sadden us?"

  "No one will weep for me."

  "How know you that?" said the voice now a third time.

  Then she slipped away to the other guests as swiftly as a dream vision,and bloomed, like a rose, at the other end of the drawing-room.

  Meanwhile, the two elder men sat after the meal over goblets of mead,and when they had discussed public questions sufficiently they began tochat about private ones. Pan Grothus followed Panna Anulka with tendereyes for a time, and then said to Pan Gideon,--

  "That is a brilliant spot over there. Just look at those young peoplewho are flying like moths round a candle. But that is no wonder, forwere we not in years we too should be flying."

  Pan Gideon waved his hand in displeasure.

  "Swarms they are,--rustics, homespuns, nothing better."

  "How so? Tachevski is not a homespun."

  "No, but he is poor. The Bukoyemskis are not homespuns; they evendeclare that they are kinsmen of Saint Peter, which may help them inheaven, but on earth they are nothing but foresters in the king'swilderness."

  Pan Grothus wondered at the relationship of the Bukoyemskis no lessthan had Pan Gideon when he heard of it the first time, so he fell toinquiring in detail, till at last he laughed heartily, and added,--

  "Saint Peter was a great apostle, and I have no wish to detract fromhis honor; all the more, since feeling old, I shall soon need hisinfluence. But between you and me, there is not much in this kinship toboast of--no, he was merely a fisherman. If you speak of Joseph, whocame from King David,--well, you may talk to me."

  "I say only that there is no one here fit for the girl, either amongthose whom you see now under my roof, or in the whole neighborhood."

  "But he who is sitting near Pani Vinnitski seems a nice gentleman."

  "Tsyprianovitch? Yes, he is; but Armenian by origin and of a familynoble only three generations."

  "Then why invite them? Cupid is traitorous, and before there is time toturn once the pudding may be cooked for you."

  Pan Gideon, who, in presenting the young men had stated how much heowed them, explained now in detail about the wolves and the assistance,because of which he was forced to invite the young rescuers to hismansion through gratitude simply.

  "True, true," said Pan Grothus, "but in his own way Amor may cook thepudding before you have noticed it. This girl's blood is not water."

  "Ai! she is a slippery weasel," said Pan Gideon. "She can and willbite, but she will twist out besides from between a man's fingers, andno common person could catch her. Great blood has this inborn qualitythat it yields not, but rules and regulates. I am not of those who areled by the nose very easily, still, I yield to her often. It is true,that I owe much to the Sieninskis, but even if I did not there would beonly slight difference. When she stands before me and puts a tress fromone shoulder to the other, inclines her head to me, and glances, shegets what she wishes most frequently. And more than once do I think,what a blessing of God, what an honor, that the last child, the lastheiress of such a famed family, is under my roof tree. Of course youknow of the Sieninskis--once all Podolia was theirs. In truth, theSobieskis, the Daniloviches, the Jolkevskis grew great through them. Itis the duty of His Grace the King to remember this, all the more sincenow almost nothing remains of those great possessions; and the girl, ifshe has any property, will have only that which remains after me toher."

  "But what will your relatives say in this matter?"

  "There are only distant Pangovskis, who will not prove kinship. Butoften my peace is destroyed by the thought that after me may comequarrels, with lawsuits and wrangling, as is common in this country.The relatives of my late wife are for me the great question. From mywife comes a part of my property, namely: the lands with this mansion."

  "I shall not appear with a lawsuit," said Pan Grothus, "but I would notguarantee as to others."

  "That is it! That is it! I have been thinking of late to visit Warsawand beg the king to be a guardian to this orphan, but his head is fullnow of other questions."

  "If you had a son it would be a simple matter to give the girl to him."

  Pan Gideon gazed at the starosta with a look so full of pain that theother stopped speaking. Both men were silent for a long time, till PanGideon said with emotion,--

  "To you I might say, my lord brother, with Virgil, _infandum jubesrenovare dolorem_ (thou commandest me to call up unspeakable sorrow).That marriage would be simple--and I will tell you that had it not beenfor this simple method I should have died long ago perhaps. My sonwhile in childhood was stolen by the Tartars. People have returned morethan once from captivity among pagans when the memory of them hadperished. Whole years have I looked for a miracle--whole years have Ilived in the hope of it. To-day even, when I drink something I think tomyself we, perhaps now! God is greater than human imagining. But thosemoments of hope are very shortlived, while the pain is enduring anddaily. No! Why deceive myself? My blood will not be mingled with thatof the Sieninskis, and, if relatives rend what I have into fragments,this last child of the family to which I owe everything, will bewithout bread to nourish her."

  Both drank in silence again. Pan Grothus was thinking how to milden thepain which he had roused in Pan Gideon unwittingly, and how to consolethe man in suffering. At last an idea occurred to him which heconsidered very happy. "Ai!" exclaimed he, "there is a way to doeverything, and you, my lord brother, can secure bread for the girlwithout trouble."

  "How?" asked Pan Gideon, with a certain disquiet.

  "Does it not happen often that old men take as wives even girls notfull grown yet? An example in history is Konietspolski the grandhetman, who married a green girl, though he was older than you are. Itis true also, that, having taken too many youth-giving medicines, hedied the first night after marriage, but neither Pan Makovski,pocillator of Radom, nor Pan Rudnitski lost their lives, though bothhad passed seventy. Besides, you are sturdy. Should the Lord againbless you, well, so much the better; if not, you would leave insufficiency and quiet the young widow, who might choose then thehusband that pleased her."

  Whether such an idea had ever come to Pan Gideon we may not determine;it suffices, that, after these words of Pan Grothus, he was greatlyconfused, and, with a hand trembling somewhat, poured mead to thestarosta till it flowed over the goblet, and the generous liquordropped down to the floor after passing the table.

  "Let us drink to the success of Christian arms!" said he.

  "That in its time," said Pan Grothus, following the course of his ownthoughts still further; "and dwell
in your own way on what I have saidto you, for I have struck, as I think, the true point of the question."

  "But why? What reason is there? Drink some more--"

  Further words were interrupted by the movement of chairs at the largertable. Pani Vinnitski and Panna Anulka wished to retire to theirchamber. The voice of the young lady, as resonant as a bell made ofsilver, repeated: "Good-night, good-night;" then she courtesiedprettily to Pan Grothus, kissed the hand of Pan Gideon, touched hisshoulder with her nose and her forehead cat fashion, and vanished. PanStanislav, the Bukoyemskis, and Yatsek went out soon after the ladies.The two older men only remained in the dining-room and conversed longin it, for Pan Gideon commanded to bring still better mead in anotherdecanter.