With Fire and Sword

"May your hands be holy! you know and I know. I saw how you fought; you are now before my eyes, and still I must repeat it to myself continually, for at times it seems as though I had only some kind of a dream. What a care has been removed! what a knot your sabre cut! May the bullets strike you! for God knows, this is too great to be told. No, I cannot restrain myself; let me press you once again, Pan Michael. If you will believe, when I made your acquaintance I thought to myself: 'There is a little whipper-snapper.' A nice whipper-snapper, to slash Bogun in this fashion! Bogun is gone; no trace, no ashes of him, – slain to death for the ages of ages; amen!"

Here Zagloba began to hug and kiss Volodyovski, and Pan Michael was moved to tears as if sorry for Bogun. At last, however, he freed himself from Zagloba's embraces and said: "We were not present at his death, and he is hard to kill. Suppose he recovers?"

"Oh, in God's name, what are you talking about?" said Zagloba. "I should be ready to go to-morrow to Lipki and arrange the nicest funeral for him, just after his death."

"Why should you go? You wouldn't finish a wounded man. After the sabre, whoever does not yield his breath at once is likely to pull through. A sabre is not a bullet."

"He cannot recover. He was already in the death-agony when we left. No chance of recovery! I examined his wounds myself. Let him rest, for you cut him open like a hare. We must go to Skshetuski at once and comfort him, or he may die of gnawing grief."

"Or he will become a monk; he told me so himself."

"What wonder? I should do the same in his place. I do not know a more honorable knight, and a more unhappy one I do not know. The Lord visits him grievously."

"Leave off," said Volodyovski, a little drunk, "for I am not able to stop my tears."

"Neither am I," added Zagloba; "such an honorable knight, and such a soldier! But the princess-you do not know her; such a darling!"

Here Zagloba began to howl in a low bass, for he really loved the princess; and Pan Michael accompanied him in a higher key, and they drank wine mixed with tears. Then, dropping their heads on their breasts, they sat for a time gloomily, till Zagloba struck his fist on the table.

"Pan Michael, why do we weep? Bogun is killed!"

"True," said Volodyovski.

"We ought rather to rejoice. We are fools now if we don't find her."

"Let us go," said Volodyovski, rising.

"Let us drink," corrected Zagloba. "God grant us to hold their children at the christening, and all because we slew Bogun."

"Served him right!" finished Volodyovski, not noticing that Zagloba was already sharing with him the merit of killing Bogun.

CHAPTER XLVII

At last "Te Deum laudamus" was heard in the cathedral of Warsaw, and the king was enthroned; cannon thundered, bells were tolled, and confidence began to enter all hearts. The interregnum had passed, – a time of storms and unrest the more terrible for the Commonwealth that it happened in a period of universal disaster. Those who had been trembling at the thought of threatening dangers, now that the election had passed with unusual harmony, drew a deep breath. It seemed to many that the unparalleled civil war was over forever, and that the newly chosen king had but to pronounce sentence on the guilty. Indeed, this hope was supported by the bearing of Hmelnitski himself. The Cossacks at Zamost, while storming the castle wildly, nevertheless spoke loudly in favor of Yan Kazimir. Hmelnitski sent through the priest Huntsel Mokrski letters full of loyalty, and through other envoys obedient requests for favor to himself and the Zaporojian army. It was known also that the king, in accord with the policy of the chancellor, desired to make considerable concessions to the Cossacks. As before the catastrophe of Pilavtsi war was in every mouth, so was peace now. It was hoped that after so many disasters the Commonwealth would recover, and under the new reign would be healed from all its wounds. At last Snyarovski went with a letter of the king to Hmelnitski; and soon the joyful news was circulated that the Cossacks would withdraw from Zamost to the Ukraine, where they would wait quietly the commands of the king and the commission which was to be occupied with examining the wrongs inflicted on them. It seemed that after the storm a seven-colored rainbow hung over the land, heralding calm and fair weather.

There were not lacking, it is true, unfavorable prophecies and prognostications, but in view of the favoring reality no weight was attached to them. The king went to Chenstokhova to thank first of all the Divine Protectress for the election and to give himself to her further care, and then to Cracow to the coronation. The dignitaries followed him: Warsaw was deserted; only those exiles from Russia remained who did not dare yet to return to their ruined fortunes, or who had nothing with which to return.

Prince Yeremi, as senator of the Commonwealth, had to go with the king; but Volodyovski and Zagloba, at the head of one squadron of dragoons, went with hurried marches to Zamost to give Skshetuski the happy tidings of what had happened to Bogun, and then to go with him in search of the princess.

Zagloba left Warsaw not without a certain sadness; for in that immeasurable concourse of nobles, in the uproar of election, in the endless revelry and the brawls raised in company with Volodyovski, he was as happy as a fish in the sea. But he consoled himself with the thought that he was returning to active life, to the search for adventures, and stratagems of which he promised not to spare himself; and besides he had his own opinion about the dangers of the capital, which he laid bare to Volodyovski in the following manner: -

"It is true, Pan Michael," said he, "that we did great things in Warsaw; but God keep us from a longer visit! For I tell you we should become effeminate, like that famous Carthaginian whom the sweetness of the air of Capua weakened to the core. But worst of all are women; they bring every man to destruction. Just think, there is nothing more traitorous than woman! A man grows old, but still she attracts him."

"But you might give us peace," said Volodyovski.

"I repeat this to myself often, it being time for me to grow sedate; but I am too hot-blooded yet. You are more phlegmatic; in me, however, is passion itself. But a truce to this; we will begin another life now. More than once have I grieved for war of late. We have an excellent squadron; and around Zamost there are bands of marauders with whom we will amuse ourselves while going after the princess. We shall see Skshetuski too, and that giant, that Lithuanian stork, that hop-pole, Pan Longin, and we have not seen him for many a day."

"You are longing for him, and when you see him you give him no peace."

"Because when he talks it is as if your horse were moving his tail, and he stretches every word as a shoemaker does leather; with him everything went into strength instead of brains. When he takes any one by the shoulders he pushes the ribs through the skin; still there is not a child in the Commonwealth who could not outwit him. How is it possible that a man with such a fortune should be so dull?"

"Has he in truth such a fortune?"

"He? When I made his acquaintance he had a belt so stuffed that he could not gird himself with it, and he carried it around like a smoked sausage. You could flourish it like a staff and it would not bend. He told me himself how many villages he has, – Myshekishki, Psikishki, Pigvishki, Sirutsiani, Tsiaputsiani, Kapustsiani (or rather, Kapustsiana,[17 - Kapustsiani, "of cabbage," the masculine form of the adjective. Kapustsiana glowa means "a cabbage head; a stupid fellow." Glowa is the ordinary word for head in Polish, and takes the feminine adjective ending in a: hence Kapustsiana. For explanation of the other names see list of names and places.] but adding glowa), Baltupye- Who could remember all these heathen names? About half the district belongs to him! It's a great family, the Podbipienta-among soup-eaters."

"Haven't you exaggerated a little about these estates?"

"I do not exaggerate, for I repeat what I heard from him, and during his life he has never told a lie, – he is in fact too stupid for that."

"Well, then, Anusia will be a lady with a full mouth. But as to your dictum that he is stupid, I cannot agree to that in any way. He is a solid man, and so clear-headed that no one can give better counsel. But that he is not a rogue, – that is not difficult. The Lord God did not give every one such a nimble tongue as yours. There is no denying that he is a great knight and a man of the utmost honor. As proof of this you love him and are glad to see him."

"Oh, the punishment of God on him!" muttered Zagloba; "I am glad only because I can tease him with Anusia."

"I don't advise you to do that, for it is a dangerous thing. You might plaster a wound with him, but in the case of Anusia he would surely lose patience."

"Let him lose it. I'll clip his ears for him as I did for Pan Dunchevski."

"Oh, spare us! I should not like to have you try him as an enemy."

"Well, well, let me only see him."

This wish of Zagloba was fulfilled sooner than he expected. When they arrived at Konskovoli, Volodyovski determined to stay for the night, as the horses were terribly road-weary. Who can describe the astonishment of the two friends when on entering the dark anteroom of the inn they recognized Pan Podbipienta in the first noble they met!

"Oh! how are you? How long, how long!" cried Zagloba; "and the Cossacks did not cut you up in Zamost?"

Pan Podbipienta took them one after the other by the shoulders, and kissed them on the cheeks. "And have we met?" he repeated with joy.

"Where are you going?" asked Volodyovski.

"To Warsaw, – to the prince."

"The prince is not in Warsaw; he went to Cracow with the king, before whom he has to carry the globe at the coronation."

"But Pan Weyher sent me to Warsaw with a letter inquiring where the prince's regiments are to go, for God be thanked they are required no longer in Zamost."

"Then you need go no farther, for we are carrying the orders."

Pan Longin frowned; for from his soul he wished to get to the prince, to see the court, and especially one little person at that court. Zagloba began to mutter significantly to Volodyovski.

"Then I'll go to Cracow," said the Lithuanian, after a moment's thought. "I was ordered to deliver the letter, and I will deliver it."

"Let's go and order them to warm up some beer," said Zagloba.

"And where are you going?" asked Pan Longin.

"To Zamost, to Skshetuski."

"He is not in Zamost."