The Deluge. Vol. 2

"And he will perform the marriage in scoundrel fashion?"

"A scoundrel will perform the marriage for a scoundrel in scoundrel fashion."

The prince fell into good humor, and said, —

"When there is a pander for best man, there cannot be another kind of marriage."

For a while they were silent; then both began to laugh. But their laughter sounded with marvellous ill-omen through the dark room. Night fell deeper and deeper.

The prince began to walk through the room, striking audibly with his hammer-staff, on which he leaned heavily, for his feet did not serve him well after the last numbness.

Now the servants brought in candelabra with candles, and went out; but the rush of air bent the flames of the candles, so that for a long time they did not burn straight upward, melting meanwhile much wax.

"See how the caudles are burning!" said the prince. "What do you prophesy from that?"

"That one virtue will melt to-day like wax."

"It is wonderful how long that talk lasts."

"Maybe the spirit of old Billevich is flying over the flames."

"You are a fool!" answered Boguslav, abruptly. "You have chosen a time to talk of spirits!"

Silence followed.

"They say in England," said the prince, "that when there is a spirit in the room every light burns blue; but see, now they are burning yellow, as usual."

"Trash!" answered Sakovich. "There are people in Moscow – "

"But be still!" interrupted Boguslav. "The sword-bearer is coming. No! that is the wind moving the shutters. The devils have brought that old maid of an aunt, Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus! Has any one ever heard of the like? And she looks like a chimera."

"If you wish, your highness, I'll marry her; then she will not be in the way, Plaska will solder us while you are waiting."

"Well, I will give her a maple spade as a marriage present, and you a lantern, so as to have something to light her way."

"I will not be your uncle – Bogus."

"Remember Castor," answered the prince.

"Do not stroke Castor, my Pollux, against the grain, for he can bite."

Further conversation was interrupted by the sword-bearer and Panna Kulvyets. The prince stepped up to him quickly, leaning on his hammer. Sakovich rose.

"Well, what? May I go to Olenka?" asked the prince.

The sword-bearer spread out his arms and dropped his head on his breast.

"Your highness, my niece says that Colonel Billevich's will forbids her to decide her own fate; and even if it did not forbid, she would not marry your highness, not having the heart to do so."

"Sakovich, do you hear?" said Boguslav, with a terrible voice.

"I too knew of that will," continued the sword-bearer, "but at the first moment I did not think it an invincible impediment."

"I jeer at the wills of you nobles," said the prince; "I spit on your wills! Do you understand?"

"But we do not jeer at them," said the aroused Pan Tomash; "and according to the will the maiden is free to enter the cloister or marry Kmita."

"Whom, you sorry fellow? Kmita? I'll show you Kmita! I'll teach you!"

"Whom do you call sorry fellow, – a Billevich?"

And the sword-bearer caught at his side in the greatest fury; but Boguslav, in one moment, struck him on the breast with his hammer, so that Billevich groaned and fell to the floor. The prince then kicked him aside, to open a way to the door, and rushed from the room without a hat.

"Jesus! Mary! Joseph!" cried Panna Kulvyets.

But Sakovich, seizing her by the shoulder, put a dagger to her breast, and said, —

"Quiet, my little jewel, quiet, dearest dove, or I will cut thy sweet throat, like that of a lame hen. Sit here quietly, and go not upstairs to thy niece's wedding."

But in Panna Kulvyets there was knightly blood too; therefore she had barely heard the words of Sakovich, when straightway her terror passed into despair and frenzy.

"Ruffian! bandit! pagan!" cried she; "slay me, for I will shout to the whole Commonwealth. The brother killed, the niece disgraced, I do not wish to live! Strike, slay, robber! People, come see!"

Sakovich stifled further words by putting his powerful hand over her month.

"Quiet, crooked distaff, dried rue!" said he; "I will not cut thy throat, for why should I give the Devil that which is his anyhow? But lest thou scream like a peacock before roosting, I will tie up thy pretty mouth with thy kerchief, and take a lute and play to thee of 'sighs.' It cannot be but thou wilt love me."

So saying, the starosta of Oshmiana, with the dexterity of a genuine pickpocket, encircled the head of Panna Kulvyets with her handkerchief, tied her hands in the twinkle of an eye, and threw her on the sofa; then he sat by her, and stretching himself out comfortably, asked her as calmly as though he had begun an ordinary conversation, —

"Well, what do you think? I suppose Bogus will get on as easily as I have."

With that he sprang to his feet, for the door opened, and in it appeared Panna Aleksandra. Her face was as white as chalk, her hair was somewhat dishevelled, her brows were frowning, and threat was in her eyes. Seeing her uncle on the floor, she knelt near him and passed her hand over his head and breast.

The sword-bearer drew a deep breath, opened his eyes, half raised himself, and began to look around in the room, as if roused from sleep; then resting his hand on the floor, he tried to rise, which he did after a while with the help of the lady; then he came with tottering step to a chair, into which he threw himself. Only now did Olenka see Panna Kulvyets lying on the sofa.

"Have you murdered her?" asked she of Sakovich.

"God preserve me!" answered the starosta of Oshmiana.

"I command you to unbind her!"

There was such power in that voice that Sakovich said not a word, as if the command had come from Princess Radzivill herself, and began to unbind the unconscious Panna Kulvyets.

"And now," said the lady, "go to your master, who is lying up there."

"What has happened?" cried Sakovich, coming to himself. "You will answer for him!"

"Not to thee, serving-man! Be off!"