The Deluge. Vol. 1

"Well, that happened in haste; but I believe firmly that the prince will take a second thought. We are strangers; in no way do we come under his jurisdiction. He must respect opinion, and not begin with violence, so as not to offend the nobles. As true as life, our party is too large to have the heads cut from all of us. Over the officers he has authority, I cannot deny that; but, as I think, he will look to the army, which surely will not fail to remember its own. And where is your squadron, Michael?"

"In Upita."

"But tell me, are you sure that the men will be true to you?"

"Whence should I know? They like me well enough, but they know that the hetman is above me."

Zagloba meditated awhile. "Give me an order to them to obey me in everything, as they would you, if I appear among them."

"You think that you are free!"

"There is no harm in that. I have been in hotter places, and God saved me. Give an order for me and the two Skshetuskis. Whoso escapes first will go straight to the squadron, and bring it to rescue the others."

"You are raving! It is a pity to lose time in empty talk! Who will escape from this place? Besides, on what can I give an order; have you paper, ink, pen? You are losing your head."

"Desperation!" cried Zagloba; "give me even your ring."

"Here it is, and let me have peace!"

Zagloba took the ring, put it on his little finger, and began to walk and meditate.

Meanwhile the smoking candle went out, and darkness embraced them completely; only through the grating of the high window a couple of stars were visible, twinkling in the clear sky. Zagloba's eye did not leave the grating. "If heaven-dwelling Podbipienta were living and with us," mattered the old man, "he would tear out that grating, and in an hour we should see ourselves beyond Kyedani."

"But raise me to the window," said Pan Yan, suddenly.

Zagloba and Pan Stanislav placed themselves at the wall; in a moment Yan was on their shoulders.

"It cracks! As God is dear to me, it cracks!" cried Zagloba.

"What are you talking about, father? I haven't begun to pull it yet."

"Crawl up with your cousin; I'll hold you somehow. More than once I pitied Pan Michael because he was so slender; but now I regret that he is not still thinner, so as to slip through like a snake."

But Yan sprang down from their shoulders. "The Scots are standing on this side!" said he.

"May God turn them into pillars of salt, like Lot's wife!" said Zagloba. "It is so dark here that you might strike a man in the face, and he could not see you. It will soon be daybreak. I think they will bring us food of some kind, for even Lutherans do not put prisoners to a hunger death. Perhaps, too, God will send reflection to the hetman. Often in the night conscience starts up in a man, and the devils pinch sinners. Can it be there is only one entrance to this cellar? I will look in the daytime. My head is somehow heavy, and I cannot think out a stratagem. To-morrow God will strengthen my wit; but now we will say the Lord's Prayer, and commit ourselves to the Most Holy Lady, in this heretical dungeon."

In fact they began a moment later to say the Lord's Prayer and the litany to the Mother of God; then Yan, Stanislav, and Volodyovski were silent, for their breasts were full of misfortune, but Zagloba growled in a low voice and muttered, -

"It must be beyond doubt that to-morrow he will say to us, aut, aut! (either, or). 'Join Radzivill and I will pardon everything.' But we shall see who outwits the other. Do you pack nobles into prison, have you no respect for age or services? Very good! To whom the loss, to him the weeping! The foolish will be under, and the wise on top. I will promise what you like, but what I observe would not make a patch for your boot. If you do not hold to the country, he is virtuous who holds not to you. This is certain, that final ruin is coming on the Commonwealth if its foremost dignitaries join the enemy. This has never been in the world hitherto, and surely a man may lose his senses from it. Are there in hell torments sufficient for such traitors? What was wanting to such a Radzivill? Is it little that the country has given him, that he should sell it like a Judas, and in the very time of its greatest misfortunes, in the time of three wars? Just is thy anger, O Lord! only give swiftest punishment. So be it! Amen! If I could only get out of here quickly, I would create partisans for thee, mighty hetman! Thou wilt know how the fruits of treason taste. Thou wilt look on me yet as a friend; but if thou findest no better, do not hunt a bear unless thy skin is not dear to thee."

Thus did Zagloba converse with himself. Meanwhile one hour passed, and a second; at last day began to dawn. The gray light falling through the grating dissipated slowly the darkness in the cellar, and brought out the gloomy figures sitting at the walls. Volodyovski and the Skshetuskis were slumbering from weariness; but when things were more visible, and when from the courtyard came the sounds of soldiers' footsteps, the clatter of arms, the tramp of hoofs, and the sound of trumpets at the gate, the knights sprang to their feet.

"The day begins not too favorably for us," said Yan.

"God grant it to end more favorably," answered Zagloba. "Do you know what I have thought in the night? They will surely treat us with the gift of life if we will take service with Radzivill and help him in his treason; we ought to agree to that, so as to make use of our freedom and stand up for the country."

"May God preserve me from putting my name to treason," answered Yan; "for though I should leave the traitor afterward, my name would remain among those of traitors as an infamy to my children. I will not do that, I prefer to die."

"Neither will I!" said Stanislav.

"But I tell you beforehand that I will. No one will think that I did it voluntarily or sincerely. May the devils take that dragon Radzivill! We shall see yet who gets the upper hand."

Further conversation was stopped by sounds in the yard. Among them were the ominous accents of anger and indignation. At the same time single voices of command, the echo of footsteps of whole crowds, and heavy thunder as of cannon in motion.

"What is going on?" asked Zagloba. "Maybe there is some help for us."

"There is surely an uncommon uproar," said Volodyovski. "But raise me to the window, for I shall see right away what it is."

Yan took Volodyovski and raised him as he would a boy. Pan Michael caught the grating, and looked carefully through the yard.

"There is something going on, – there is!" said he, with sudden alertness. "I see the Hungarian castle regiment of infantry which Oskyerko led-they loved him greatly, and he too is arrested; they are demanding him surely. As God lives! they are in order of battle. Lieutenant Stahovich is with them; he is a friend of Oskyerko."

At that moment the cries grew still louder.

"Ganhoff has ridden up. He is saying something to Stahovich, and what a shout! I see that Stahovich with two officers is walking away from the troops. They are going of course as a deputation to the hetman. As God is dear to me, mutiny is spreading in the army! The cannon are pointed against the Hungarians, and the Scottish regiment is also in order of battle. Men from the Polish squadrons are gathering to the Hungarians. Without them they would not be so daring, for in the infantry there is stern discipline."

"In God's name!" cried Zagloba. "In that is salvation for us. Pan Michael, are there many Polish squadrons? If they rise, it will be a rising!"

"Stankyevich's hussars and Mirski's mailed squadrons are two days' march from Kyedani," answered Volodyovski. "If they had been here, the hetman would not have dared to arrest their commanders. Wait! There are Kharlamp's dragoons, one regiment, Myeleshko's another; they are for the prince. Nyevyarovski declared also for the prince, but his regiment is far away, – two Scottish regiments."

"Then there are four with the prince?"

"And the artillery under Korf, two regiments."

"Oh, that's a strong force!"

"And Kmita's squadron, well equipped, – six hundred men."

"And on whose side is Kmita?"

"I do not know."

"Did you not see him? Did he throw down his baton?"

"We know not."

"Who are against the prince, – what squadrons?"

"First, these Hungarians evidently, two hundred men; then a number of detached men from the commands of Mirski and Stankyevich; some nobles and Kmita, – but he is uncertain."

"God grant him! – By God's mercy! – Too few, too few."

"These Hungarians are as good as two regiments, old soldiers and tried. But wait! They are lighting the matches at the cannon; it looks like a battle!"

Yan and Stanislav were silent; Zagloba was writhing as in a fever, -

"Slay the traitors! Slay the dog-brothers! Ai, Kmita! Kmita! All depends on him. Is he daring?"