Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  “Blockhead!” answered Volodyovski.

  “You told me that when we were coming hither.”

  Silence followed; then Volodyovski began to mutter again: “Ah, I was entertained there with ingratitude, paid for affection with contempt. It will come to me surely to serve in the cavalry till death; that is fated. Such a devil of a lot fell to me, — every move a refusal! There is no justice on earth. What did she find against me?”

  Here Pan Michael frowned, and began to work mightily with his brain; all at once he slapped his leg with his hand. “I know now,” shouted he; “she loves that fellow yet, — it cannot be otherwise.”

  But this idea did not clear his face. “So much the worse for me,” thought he, after a while; “for if she loves him yet, she will not stop loving him. He has already done his worst. He may go to war, win glory, repair his reputation. And it is not right to hinder him; he should rather be aided, for that is a service to the country. He is a good soldier, ’tis true. But how did he fascinate her so? Who can tell? Some have such fortune that if one of them looks on a woman she is ready to follow him into fire. If a man only knew how this is done or could get some captive spirit, perhaps he might effect something. Merit has no weight with a fair head. Pan Zagloba said wisely that a fox and a woman are the most treacherous creatures alive. But I grieve that all is lost. Oh, she is a terribly beautiful woman, and honorable and virtuous, as they say; ambitious as the devil, — that’s evident. Who knows that she will marry him though she loves him, for he has offended and disappointed her sorely. He might have won her in peace, but he chose to be lawless. She is willing to resign everything, — marriage and children. It is grievous for me, but maybe it is worse for her, poor thing!”

  Here Volodyovski fell into a tit of tenderness over the fate of Olenka, and began to rack his brain and smack his lips. At last he said, —

  “May God aid her! I have no ill feeling against her! It is not the first refusal for me, but for her it is the first suffering. The poor woman can scarcely recover now from sorrows. I have put out her eyes with this Kmita, and besides have given her gall to drink. It was not right to do that, and I must repair the wrong. I wish bullets had struck me, for I have acted rudely. I will write a letter asking forgiveness, and then help her in what way I can.”

  Further thoughts concerning Pan Kmita were interrupted by the attendant Syruts, who riding forward again said: “Pardon, but over there on the hill is Pan Kharlamp riding with some one else.”

  “Where?”

  “Over there!”

  “It is true that two horsemen are visible, but Pan Kharlamp remained with the prince voevoda of Vilna. How dost thou know him so far away?”

  “By his cream-colored horse. The whole array knows that horse anywhere.”

  “As true as I live, there is a cream-colored horse in view, but it may be some other man’s horse.”

  “When I recognize the gait, it is surely Pan Kharlamp.”

  They spurred on; the other horsemen did the same, and soon Volodyovski saw that Pan Kharlamp was in fact approaching.

  Pan Kharlamp was the lieutenant of a light-horse squadron in the Lithuanian quota. Pan Volodyovski’s acquaintance of long standing, an old soldier and a good one. Once he and the little knight had quarrelled fiercely, but afterward while serving together and campaigning they acquired a love for each other. Volodyovski sprang forward quickly, and opening his arms cried, —

  “How do you prosper, O Great-nose? Whence do you come?”

  The officer — who in truth deserved the nickname of Great-nose, for he had a mighty nose — fell into the embraces of the colonel, and greeted him joyously; then after he had recovered his breath, he said, “I have come to you with a commission and money.”

  “But from whom?”

  “From the prince voevoda of Vilna, our hetman. He sends you a commission to begin a levy at once, and another commission to Pan Kmita, who must be in this neighborhood.”

  “To Pan Kmita also? How shall we both make a levy in one neighborhood?”

  “He is to go to Troki, and you to remain in these parts.”

  “How did you know where to look for me?”

  “The hetman himself inquired carefully till the people from this place who have remained near him told where to find you. I came with sure information. You are in great and continual favor there. I have heard the prince himself say that he had not hoped to inherit anything from Prince Yeremi, but still he did inherit the greatest of knights.”

  “May God grant him to inherit the military success of Yeremi! It is a great honor for me to conduct a levy. I will set about it at once. There is no lack of warlike people here, if there was only something with which to give them an outfit. Have you brought much money?”

  “You will count it at Patsuneli.”

  “So you have been there already? But be careful; for there are shapely girls in Patsuneli, like poppies in a garden.”

  “Ah, that is why stopping there pleased you! But wait, I have a private letter from the hetman to you.”

  “Then give it.”

  Kharlamp drew forth a letter with the small seal of the Radzivills. Volodyovski opened it and began to read: —

  Worthy Colonel Pan Volodyovski, — Knowing your sincere wish to serve the country, I send you a commission to make a levy, and not as is usually done, but with great haste, for periculum in mora (there is danger in delay). If you wish to give us joy, then let the squadron be mustered and ready for the campaign by the end of July, or the middle of August at the latest. We are anxious to know how you can find good horses, especially since we send money sparingly, for more we could not hammer from the under-treasurer, who after his old fashion is unfriendly to us. Give one half of this money to Pan Kmita, for whom Pan Kharlamp has also a commission. We hope that he will serve us zealously. But tidings have come to our ears of his violence in Upita, therefore it is better for you to take the letter directed to him from Kharlamp, and discover yourself whether to deliver it to him or not. Should you consider the accusations against him too great, and creating infamy, then do not give it, for we are afraid lest our enemies — such as the under-treasurer, and the voevoda of Vityebsk — might raise outcries against us because we commit such functions to unworthy persons. But if you give the letter after having found that there is nothing important, let Pan Kmita endeavor to wipe away his faults by the greatest exertion in service, and in no case to appear in the courts, for he belongs to our hetman’s jurisdiction, — we and no one else will judge him. Pay attention to our charge at once, in view of the confidence which we have in your judgment and faithful service.

  Yanush Radzivill,

  Prince in Birji and Dubinki, Voevoda of Vilna.

  “The hetman is terribly anxious about horses for you,” said Kharlamp, when the little knight had finished reading.

  “It will surely be difficult in the matter of horses,” answered Volodyovski. “A great number of the small nobility here will rally at the first summons, but they have only wretched little Jmud ponies, not very capable of service. For a good campaign it would be needful to give them all fresh horses.”

  “Those are good horses; I know them of old, wonderfully enduring and active.”

  “Bah!” responded Volodyovski, “but small, and the men here are large. If they should form in line on such horses, you would think them a squadron mounted on dogs. There is where the rub is. I will work with zeal, for I am in haste myself. Leave Kmita’s commission with me, as the hetman commands; I will give it to him. It has come just in season.”

  “But why?”

  “For he has acted here in Tartar fashion and taken a lady captive. There are as many lawsuits and questions hanging over him as he has hairs on his head. It is not a week since I had a sabre-duel with him.”

  “Ai!” cried Kharlamp. “If you had a sabre-duel with him, he is in bed at this moment.”

  “But he is better already. In a week or two he will be well. What is to be heard de publicis?
”

  “Evil in the old fashion. The under-treasurer, Pan Gosyevski, the full hetman, is ever quarrelling with the prince; and as the hetmans do not agree, affairs do not move in harmony. Still we have improved a little, and I think that if we had concord we might manage the enemy. God will permit us yet to ride on their necks to their own land. Gosyevski is to blame for all.”

  “But others say it is specially the grand hetman, Prince Radzivill.”

  “They are traitors. The voevoda of Vityebsk talks that way, for he and the under-treasurer are cronies this long time.”

  “The voevoda of Vityebsk is a worthy citizen.”

  “Are you on the side of Sapyeha against the Radzivills?”

  “I am on the side of the country, on whose side all should be. In this is the evil, — that even soldiers are divided into parties, instead of fighting. That Sapyeha is a worthy citizen, I would say in the presence of the prince himself, even though I serve under him.”

  “Good people have striven to bring about harmony, but with no result,” said Kharlamp. “There is a terrible movement of messengers from the king to our prince. They say that something is hatching. We expected with the visit of the king a call of the general militia; it has not come! They say that it may be necessary in some places.”

  “In the Ukraine, for instance.”

  “I know. But once Lieutenant Brohvich told what he heard with his own ears. Tyzenhauz came from the king to our hetman, and when they had shut themselves in they talked a long time about something which Brohvich could not overhear; but when they came out, with his own ears he heard the hetman say, ‘From this a new war may come.’ We racked our heads greatly to find what this could mean.”

  “Surely he was mistaken. With whom could there be a new war? The emperor is more friendly to us now than to our enemies, since it is proper for him to take the side of a civilized people. With the Swedes the truce is not yet at an end, and will not be for six years; the Tartars are helping us in the Ukraine, which they would not do without the will of Turkey.”

  “Well, we could not get at anything.”

  “For there was nothing. But, praise God, I have fresh work; I began to yearn for war.”

  “Do you wish to carry the commission yourself to Kmita?”

  “I do, because, as I have told you, the hetman has so ordered. It is proper for me to visit Kmita now according to knightly custom, and having the commission I shall have a still better chance to talk with him. Whether I give the commission is another thing; I think that I shall, for it is left to my discretion.”

  “That suits me; I am in such haste for the road. I have a third commission to Pan Stankyevich. Next I am commanded to go to Kyedani, to remove the cannon which are there; then to inspect Birji and see if everything is ready for defence.”

  “And to Birji too?”

  “Yes.”

  “That is a wonder to me. The enemy have won no new victories, and it is far for them to go to Birji on the boundary of Courland. And since, as I see, new squadrons are being formed, there will be men to defend even those parts which have fallen under the power of the enemy. The Courlanders do not think of war with us. They are good soldiers, but few; and Radzivill might put the breath out of them with one hand.”

  “I wonder too,” answered Kharlamp, “all the more that haste is enjoined on me, and instructions given that if I find anything out of order I am to inform quickly Prince Boguslav Radzivill, who is to send Peterson the engineer.”

  “What can this mean? I hope ’tis no question of domestic war. May God preserve us from that! But when Prince Boguslav touches an affair the devil will come of the amusement.”

  “Say nothing against him; he is a valiant man.”

  “I say nothing against his valor, but there is more of the German or Frenchman in him than the Pole. And of the Commonwealth he never thinks; his only thought is how to raise the house of Radzivill to the highest point and lower all others. He is the man who rouses pride in the voevoda of Vilna, our hetman, who of himself has no lack of it; and those quarrels with Sapyeha and Gosyevski are the tree and the fruit of Prince Boguslav’s planting.”

  “I see that you are a great statesman. You should marry, Michael dear, as soon as possible, so that such wisdom is not lost.”

  Volodyovski looked very attentively at his comrade. “Marry, — why is that?”

  “Maybe you are going courting, for I see that you are dressed as on parade.”

  “Give us peace!”

  “Oh, own up!”

  “Let each man eat his own melons, not inquire about those of other men. You too have eaten more than one. It is just the time now to think of marriage when we have a levy on our hands!”

  “Will you be ready in July?”

  “At the end of July, even if I have to dig horses out of the ground. Thank God that this task has come, or melancholy would have devoured me.”

  So tidings from the hetman and the prospect of heavy work gave great consolation to Pan Michael; and before he reached Patsuneli, he had scarcely a thought of the rebuff which had met him an hour before. News of the commission flew quickly through the whole village. The nobles came straightway to inquire if the news was true; and when Volodyovski confirmed it, his words made a great impression. The readiness was universal, though some were troubled because they would have to march at the end of July before harvest. Volodyovski sent messengers to other neighborhoods, — to Upita, and to the most considerable noble houses. In the evening a number of Butryms, Stakyans, and Domasheviches came.

  They began to incite one another, show greater readiness, threaten the enemy, and promise victory to themselves. The Butryms alone were silent; but that was not taken ill, for it was known that they would rise as one man. Next day it was as noisy in all the villages as in bee-hives. People talked no more of Pan Kmita and Panna Aleksandra, but of the future campaign. Volodyovski also forgave Olenka sincerely the refusal, comforting himself meanwhile in his heart that that was not the last one, as the love was not the last. At the same time he pondered somewhat on what he had to do with the letter to Kmita.

  CHAPTER X.

  A time of serious labor began now for Volodyovski, — of letter-writing and journeying. The week following he transferred his head-quarters to Upita, where he began the levy. The nobles flocked to him willingly, both great and small, for he had a wide reputation. But especially came the Lauda men, for whom horses had to be provided. Volodyovski hurried around as if in boiling water; but since he was active and spared no pains, everything went on successfully enough. Meanwhile he visited in Lyubich Pan Kmita, who had advanced considerably toward health; and though he had not risen yet from his bed, it was known that he would recover.

  Kmita recognized the knight at once, and turned a little pale at sight of him. Even his hand moved involuntarily toward the sabre above his head; but he checked himself when he saw a smile on the face of his guest, put forth his thin hand, and said, —

  “I thank you for the visit. This is courtesy worthy of such a cavalier.”

  “I have come to inquire if you cherish ill feeling against me,” said Pan Michael.

  “I have no ill feeling; for no common man overcame me, but a swordsman of the first degree. Hardly have I escaped.”

  “And how is your health?”

  “It is surely a wonder to you that I have come out alive. I confess myself that it is no small exploit.” Here Kmita laughed. “Well, the affair is not lost. You may finish me at your pleasure.”

  “I have not come with such intent—”

  “You must be the devil,” interrupted Kmita, “or must have a captive spirit. God knows I am far from self-praise at this moment, for I am returning from the other world; but before meeting you I thought, ‘If I am not the best sabre in the Commonwealth, I am the second.’ But I could not have warded off the first blow if you had not wished it. Tell me where did you learn so much?”

  “I had some little innate capacity, and my father taught me from boyh
ood. He said many a time, ‘God has given you insignificant stature; if men do not fear you, they will laugh at you.’ Later on, while serving with the voevoda of Rus, I finished my course. With him were a few men who could stand boldly before me.”

  “But could there be such?”

  “There could, for there were. There was Pan Podbipienta, a Lithuanian of high birth, who fell at Zbaraj, — the Lord light his soul! — a man of such strength that there were no means to stop him, for he could cut through opponent and weapons. Then there was Skshetuski, my heartfelt friend and confidant, of whom you must have heard.”

  “Of course! He came out of Zbaraj, and burst through the Cossacks. So you are of such a brace, and a man of Zbaraj! With the forehead! with the forehead! Wait a moment; I have heard of you at the castle of Radzivill, voevoda of Vilna. Your name is Michael?”

  “Exactly; I am Michael. My first name is Yerzi; but since Saint Michael leads the whole host of heaven, and has gamed so many victories over the banners of hell, I prefer him as a patron.”

  “It is sure that Yerzi is not equal to Michael. Then you are that same Volodyovski of whom it is said that he cut up Bogun?”

  “I am he.”

  “Well, to receive a slash on the head from such a man is not a misfortune. If God would grant us to be friends! You called me a traitor, ’tis true, but you were mistaken.” When he said this, Kmita frowned as if his wound caused him pain again.

  “I confess my mistake,” answered Volodyovski. “I do not learn that from you; your men told me. And know that if I had not learned it I should not have come here.”

  “Tongues have cut me and cut me,” said Kmita, with bitterness. “Let come what may, I confess more than one mark is against me; but in this neighborhood men have received me ungraciously.”

  “You injured yourself most by burning Volmontovichi, and by the last seizure.”

  “Now they are crushing me with lawsuits. I am summoned to courts. They will not give a sick man time to recover. I burned Volmontovichi, ’tis true, and cut down some people; but let God judge me if I did that from caprice. The same night, before the burning I made a vow to live with all men in peace, to attract to myself these homespuns around here, to satisfy the basswood barks in Upita, for there I really played the tyrant. I returned to my house, and what did I find? I found my comrades cut up like cattle, lying at the wall. When I learned that the Butryms had done this, the devil entered me, and I took stern vengeance. Would you believe why they were cut up, why they were slaughtered? I learned myself later from one of the Butryms, whom I found in the woods. Behold, it was for this, — that they wanted to dance with the women of the nobles in a public house! Who would not have taken vengeance?”