The Deluge. Vol. 1

"For there are places against which it is terrible, even for Tartars, to raise hands."

"You are too mysterious. Sir Cavalier," answered the officer, "and remember that you are going, not to Tartars, but to Swedes for money."

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a new party of men, whom the officer was evidently expecting, for he hurried out of the inn. Kmita followed and stood in the door to see who were coming.

In front was a closed carriage drawn by four horses, and surrounded by a party of Swedish horsemen; it stopped before the inn. The officer who had just been talking to Kmita went up to the carriage quickly, and opening the door made a low bow to the person sitting inside.

"He must be some distinguished man," thought Kmita.

That moment they brought from the inn a flaming torch. Out of the carriage stepped an important personage dressed in black, in foreign fashion, with a cloak to his knees, lined with fox-skin, and a hat with feathers. The officer seized the torch from the hands of a horseman, and bowing once more, said, -

"This way, your excellency!"

Kmita pushed back as quickly as possible, and they entered after him. In the room the officer bowed a third time and said, -

"Your excellency, I am Count Veyhard Vjeshchovich, ordinarius proviantmagister, of his Royal Grace Karl Gustav, and am sent with an escort to meet your excellency."

"It is pleasant for me to meet such an honorable cavalier," said the personage in black, giving bow for bow.

"Does your excellency wish to stop here some time or to go on at once? His Royal Grace wishes to see your excellency soon."

"I had intended to halt at Chenstohova for prayers," answered the newly arrived, "but in Vyelunie I received news that his Royal Grace commands me to hurry; therefore, after I have rested, we will go on. Meanwhile dismiss the escort, and thank the captain who led it."

The officer went to give the requisite order. Pan Andrei stopped him on the way.

"Who is that?" asked he.

"Baron Lisola, the Imperial Envoy, now on his way from the court of Brandenburg to our lord," answered the officer. Then he went out, and after a while returned.

"Your excellency's orders are carried out," said he to the baron.

"I thank you," said Lisola; and with great though very lofty affability he indicated to Count Veyhard a place opposite himself. "Some kind of storm is beginning to whistle outside," said he, "and rain is falling. It may continue long; meanwhile let us talk before supper. What is to be heard here? I have been told that the voevodas of Little Poland have submitted to his Grace of Sweden."

"True, your excellency; his Grace is only waiting for the submission of the rest of the troops, then he will go at once to Warsaw and to Prussia."

"Is it certain that they will surrender?"

"Deputies from the army are already in Cracow. They have no choice, for if they do not come to us Hmelnitski will destroy them utterly."

Lisola inclined his reasoning head upon his breast. "Terrible, unheard of things!" said he.

The conversation was carried on in the German language. Kmita did not lose a single word of it.

"Your excellency." said Count Veyhard, "that has happened which had to happen."

"Perhaps so; but it is difficult not to feel compassion for a power which has fallen before our eyes, and for which a man who is not a Swede must feel sorrow."

"I am not a Swede; but if Poles themselves do not feel sorrow, neither do I," answered the count.

Lisola looked at him seriously. "It is true that your name is not Swedish. From what people are you, I pray?"

"I am a Cheh" (Bohemian).

"Indeed? Then you are a subject of the German emperor? We are under the same rule."

"I am in the service of the Most Serene King of Sweden," said Veyhard, with a bow.

"I wish not to derogate from that service in the least," answered Lisola, "but such employments are temporary; being then a subject of our gracious sovereign, whoever you may be, whomsoever you may serve, you cannot consider any one else as your natural sovereign."

"I do not deny that."

"Then I will tell you sincerely, that our lord mourns over this illustrious Commonwealth, over the fate of its noble monarch, and he cannot look with a kindly or willing eye on those of his subjects who are aiding in the final ruin of a friendly power. What have the Poles done to you, that you show them such ill will?"

"Your excellency, I might answer many things, but I fear to abuse your patience."

"You seem to me not only a famous soldier, but a wise man. My office obliges me to observe, to listen, to seek causes; speak then, even in the most minute way, and fear not to annoy my patience. If you incline at any time to the service of the emperor, which I wish most strongly, you will find in me a friend who will explain and repeat your reasons, should any man wish to consider your present service as wrong."

"Then I will tell you all that I have on my mind. Like many nobles, younger sons, I had to seek my fortune outside my native land. I came to this country where the people are related to my own, and take foreigners into service readily."

"Were you badly received?"

"Salt mines were given to my management I found means of livelihood, of approach to the people and the king himself; I serve the Swedes at present, but should any one wish to consider me unthankful, I could contradict him directly."

"How?"

"Can more be asked of me than of the Poles themselves? Where are the Poles to-day? Where are the senators of this kingdom, the princes, the magnates, the nobles, if not in the Swedish camp? And still they should be the first to know what they ought to do, where the salvation of their country is, and where its destruction. I follow their example; who of them then has the right to call me unthankful? Why should I, a foreigner, be more faithful to the King of Poland and the Commonwealth than they themselves are? Why should I despise that service for which they themselves are begging?"

Lisola made no answer. He rested his head on his hand and fell into thought. It would seem that he was listening to the whistle of the wind and the sound of the autumn rain, which had begun to strike the windows of the inn.

"Speak on," said he, at last; "in truth you tell me strange things."

"I seek fortune where I can find it," continued Count Veyhard; "and because this people are perishing, I do not need to care for them more than they do for themselves, besides, even if I were to care, it would avail nothing, for they must perish."

"But why is that?"

"First, because they wish it themselves; second, because they deserve it. Your excellency, is there another country in the world where so many disorders and such violence may be seen? What manner of government is there here? The king does not rule, because they will not let him; the diets do not rule, because the members break them; there is no army, because the Poles will not pay taxes; there is no obedience, for obedience is opposed to freedom; there is no justice, for there is no one to execute decisions, and each strong man tramples on decisions; there is no loyalty in this people, for all have deserted their king; there is no love for the country, for they have given it to the Swede, for the promise that he will not prevent them from living in old fashion according to their ancient violence. Where could anything similar be found? What people in the world would aid an enemy in conquering their own country? Who would desert a king, not for his tyranny, not for his evil deeds, but because a stronger one came? Where is there a people who love private profits more, or trample more on public affairs? What have they, your excellency? Let any one mention to me even one virtue, – prudence, reason, cleverness, endurance, abstinence. What have they? Good cavalry? that and nothing more. But the Numidians were famous for cavalry, and the Gauls, as may be read in Roman history, had celebrated soldiers; but where are they? They have perished as they were bound to perish. Whoso wishes to save the Poles is merely losing time, for they will not save themselves. Only the mad, the violent, the malicious, and the venal inhabit this land."

Count Veyhard pronounced the last words with a genuine outburst of hatred marvellous in a foreigner who had found bread among that people; but Lisola was not astonished. A veteran diplomat, he knew the world and men. He knew that whoso does not know how to pay his benefactor with his heart, seeks in him faults, so as to shield with them his own unthankfulness. Besides, it may be that he recognized that Count Veyhard was right. He did not protest, but asked quickly, "Are you a Catholic?"

The count was confused. "Yes, your excellency," answered he.

"I have heard in Vyelunie that there are persons who persuade the king, Karl Gustav, to occupy the monastery of Yasna Gora.[30 - Bright Mountain.] Is it true?"

"Your excellency, the monastery lies near the Silesian boundary, and Yan Kazimir can easily receive messages therefrom. We must occupy it to prevent that. I was the first to direct attention to this matter, and therefore his Royal Grace has confided these functions to me."

Here Count Veyhard stopped suddenly, remembered Kmita, sitting in the other corner of the room, and coming up to him, asked, -

"Do you understand German?"