“For he gives sincere advice,” said Jendzian to himself. “It is always better to hold together. But why does he forewarn? Is it from love of Volodyovski, because the latter gave him his life in Billeviche? It must be from love! Yes, but that love may come out with evil result for the hetman. Kmita is a strange man; he serves Radzivill, wishes well to our people, and is going to the Swedes; I do not understand this.” After a while he added: “He is a bountiful lord; but it is evil to come in his way.”
As earnestly and vainly as Jendzian, did old Kyemlich rack his brain in effort to find an answer to the query, “Whom does Pan Kmita serve?”
“He is going to the king, and kills the confederates, who are fighting specially on the king’s side. What is this? And he does not trust the Swedes, for he hides from them. What will happen to us?”
Not being able to arrive at any conclusion, he turned in rage to his sons: “Rascals! You will perish without blessing! And you could not even pull away a little from the slain?”
“We were afraid!” answered Kosma and Damian.
Soroka alone was satisfied, and he clattered joyously after his colonel.
“Evil fate has missed us,” thought he, “for we killed those fellows. I’m curious to know whom we shall kill next time.”
And it was all one to him, as was also this, — whither he was faring.
No one dared approach Kmita or ask him anything, for the young colonel was as gloomy as night. He grieved terribly that he had to kill those men, at the side of whom he would have been glad to stand as quickly as possible in the ranks. But if he had yielded and let himself be taken to Volodyovski, what would Volodyovski have thought on learning that he was seized making his way in disguise to the Swedes, and with passes to the Swedish commandants?
“My old sins are pursuing and following me,” said Kmita to himself. “I will flee to the farthest place; and guide me, O God!”
He began to pray earnestly and to appease his conscience, which repeated, “Again corpses against thee, and not corpses of Swedes.”
“O God, be merciful!” answered Kmita. “I am going to my king; there my service will begin.”
CHAPTER XXXII.
Jendzian had no intention of passing a night at “The Mandrake,” for from Vansosh to Shchuchyn was not far, — he wanted merely to give rest to his horses, especially to those drawing the loaded wagons. Therefore, when Kmita let him travel farther, Jendzian lost no time, and entered Shchuchyn late in the evening. Having announced himself to the sentries, he took his place on the square; for the houses were occupied by soldiers, who even then were not all able to find lodgings. Shchuchyn passed for a town, but was not one in reality; for it had not yet even walls, a town hall, courts of justice, or the college of monks, founded in the time of King Yan III. It had a few houses, but a greater number of cabins than houses, and was called a town, because it was built in a quadrangular form with a market-place in the centre, slightly less swampy than the pond at which the paltry little place was situated.
Jendzian slept under his warm wolfskin till morning, and then went straight to Pan Volodyovski, who, as he had not seen him for an age, received him with gladness and took him at once to Pan Yan and Zagloba. Jendzian shed tears at sight of his former master, whom he had served faithfully so many years; and with whom he had passed through so many adventures and worked himself finally to fortune. Without shame of his former service, Jendzian began to kiss the hands of Pan Yan and repeat with emotion, —
“My master, my master, in what times do we meet again!”
Then all began in a chorus to complain of the times; at last Zagloba said, —
“But you, Jendzian, are always in the bosom of fortune, and as I see have come out a lord. Did I not prophesy that if you were not hanged you would have fortune? What is going on with you now?”
“My master, why hang me, when I have done nothing against God, nothing against the law? I have served faithfully; and if I have betrayed any man, he was an enemy, — which I consider a special service. And if I destroyed a scoundrel here and there by stratagem, as some one of the rebels, or that witch, — do you remember, my master? — that is not a sin; but even if it were a sin, it is my master’s, not mine, for it was from you that I learned stratagems.”
“Oh, that cannot be! See what he wants!” said Zagloba. “If you wish me to howl for your sins after death, give me their fruit during life. You are using alone all that wealth which you gained with the Cossacks, and alone you will be turned to roast bacon in hell.”
“God is merciful, my master, though it is untrue that I use wealth for myself alone; for first I beggared our wicked neighbors with lawsuits, and took care of my parents, who are living now quietly in Jendziane, without any disputes, — for the Yavorskis have gone off with packs to beg, and I, at a distance, am earning my living as I can.”
“Then you are not living in Jendziane?” asked Pan Yan.
“In Jendziane my parents live as of old, but I am living in Vansosh, and I cannot complain, for God has blessed me. But when I heard that all you gentlemen were in Shchuchyn, I could not sit still, for I thought to myself, ‘Surely it is time to move again!’ There is going to be war, let it come!”
“Own up,” said Zagloba, “the Swedes frightened you out of Vansosh?”
“There are no Swedes yet in Vidzka, though small parties appear, and cautiously, for the peasants are terribly hostile.”
“That is good news for me,” said Volodyovski, “for yesterday I sent a party purposely to get an informant concerning the Swedes, for I did not know whether it was possible to stay in Shchuchyn with safety; surely that party conducted you hither?”
“That party? Me? I have conducted it, or rather I have brought it, for there is not even one man of that party who can sit on a horse alone.”
“What do you say? What has happened?” inquired Volodyovski.
“They are terribly beaten!” explained Jendzian.
“Who beat them?”
“Pan Kmita.”
The Skshetuskis and Zagloba sprang up from the benches, one interrupting the other in questioning, —
“Pan Kmita? But what was he doing here? Has the prince himself come already? Well! Tell right away what has happened.”
Pan Volodyovski rushed out of the room to see with his eyes, to verify the extent of the misfortune, and to look at the men; therefore Jendzian said, —
“Why should I tell? Better wait till Pan Volodyovski comes back; for it is more his affair, and it is a pity to move the mouth twice to repeat the same story.”
“Did you see Kmita with your own eyes?” asked Zagloba.
“As I see you, my master!”
“And spoke with him?”
“Why should I not speak with him, when we met at ‘The Mandrake’ not far from here? I was resting my horses, and he had stopped for the night. An hour would have been short for our talk. I complained of the Swedes, and he complained also of the Swedes—”
“Of the Swedes? He complained also?” asked Pan Yan.
“As of devils, though he was going among them.”
“Had he many troops?”
“He had no troops, only a few attendants; true, they were armed, and had such snouts that even those men who slaughtered the Holy Innocents at Herod’s command had not rougher or viler. He gave himself out as a small noble in pigskin boots, and said that he went with horses to the fairs. But though he had a number of horses, his story did not seem clear to me, for neither his person nor his bearing belonged to a horse-dealer, and I saw a fine ring on his finger, — this one.” Here Jendzian held a glittering stone before the listeners.
Zagloba struck himself on the side and cried: “Ah, you gypsied that out of him! By that alone might I know you, Jendzian, at the end of the world!”
“With permission of my master, I did not gypsy it; for I am a noble, not a gypsy, and feel myself the equal of any man, though I live on rented lands till I settle on my own. This ring Pan Kmita gave as a t
oken that what he said was true; and very soon I will repeat his words faithfully to your graces, for it seems to me that in this case our skins are in question.”
“How is that?” asked Zagloba.
At this moment Volodyovski came in, roused to the utmost, and pale from anger; he threw his cap on the table and cried, —
“It passes imagination! Three men killed; Yuzva Butrym cut up, barely breathing!”
“Yuzva Butrym? He is a man with the strength of a bear!” said the astonished Zagloba.
“Before my eyes Pan Kmita stretched him out,” put in Jendzian.
“I’ve had enough of that Kmita!” cried Volodyovski, beside himself; “wherever that man shows himself he leaves corpses behind, like the plague. Enough of this! Balance for balance, life for life; but now a new reckoning! He has killed my men, fallen upon good soldiers; that will be set to his account before our next meeting.”
“He did not attack them, but they him; for he hid himself in the darkest corner, so they should not recognize him,” explained Jendzian.
“And you, instead of giving aid to my men, testify in his favor!” said Volodyovski, in anger.
“I speak according to justice. As to aid, my men tried to give aid; but it was hard for them, for in the tumult they did not know whom to beat and whom to spare, and therefore they suffered. That I came away with my life and my sacks is due to the sense of Pan Kmita alone, for hear how it happened.”
Jendzian began a detailed account of the battle in “The Mandrake,” omitting nothing; and when at length he told what Kmita had commanded him to tell, they were all wonder fully astonished.
“Did he say that himself?” asked Zagloba.
“He himself,” replied Jendzian. “‘I,’ said he, ‘am not an enemy to Pan Volodyovski or the confederates, though they think differently. Later this will appear; but meanwhile let them come together, in God’s name, or the voevoda of Vilna will take them one by one like lobsters from a net.’”
“And did he say that the voevoda was already on the march?” asked Tan Yan.
“He said that the voevoda was only waiting for Swedish reinforcements, and that he would move at once on Podlyasye.”
“What do you think of all this, gentlemen?” asked Volodyovski, looking at his comrades.
“Either that man is betraying Radzivill, or he is preparing some ambush for us. But of what kind? He advises us to keep in a body. What harm to us may rise out of that?”
“To perish of hunger,” answered Volodyovski. “I have just received news that Jyromski, Kotovski, and Lipnitski must dispose their cavalry in parties of some tens each over the whole province, for they cannot get forage together.”
“But if Radzivill really does come,” asked Pan Stanislav, “who can oppose him?”
No one could answer that question, for really it was as clear as the sun that if the grand hetman of Lithuania should come and find the confederates scattered, he could destroy them with the greatest ease.
“An astonishing thing!” repeated Zagloba; and after a moment’s silence he continued: “Still I should think that he had abandoned Radzivill. But in such a case he would not be slipping past in disguise, and to whom, — to the Swedes.” Here he turned to Jendzian: “Did he tell you that he was going to Warsaw?”
“He did.”
“But the Swedish forces are there already.”
“About this hour he must have met the Swedes, if he travelled all night,” answered Jendzian.
“Have you ever seen such a man?” asked Zagloba, looking at his comrades.
“That there is in him evil with good, as tares with wheat, is certain,” said Pan Yan; “but that there is any treason in this counsel that he gives us at present, I simply deny. I do not know whither he is going, why he is slipping past in disguise; and it would be idle to break my head over this, for it is some mystery. But he gives good advice, warns us sincerely: I will swear to that, as well as to this, — that the only salvation for us is to listen to his advice. Who knows if we are not indebted to him again, for safety and life?”
“For God’s sake,” cried Volodyovski, “how is Radzivill to come here when Zolotarenko’s men and Hovanski’s infantry are in his way? It is different in our case! One squadron may slip through, and even with one we had to open a way through Pilvishki with sabres. It is another thing with Kmita, who is slipping by with a few men; but when the prince hetman passes with a whole army? Either he will destroy those first—”
Volodyovski had not finished speaking when the door opened and an attendant came in.
“A messenger with a letter to the Colonel,” said he.
“Bring it.”
The attendant went out and returned in a moment with the letter. Pan Michael broke the seal quickly and read, —
That which I did not finish telling the tenant of Vansosh yesterday, I add to-day in writing. The hetman of himself has troops enough against you, but he is waiting for Swedish reinforcements, so as to go with the authority of the King of Sweden; for then if the Northerners attack him they will have to strike the Swedes too, and that would mean war with the King of Sweden. They will not venture to make war without orders, for they fear the Swedes, and will not take on themselves the responsibility of beginning a war. They have discovered that it is Radzivill’s purpose to put the Swedes forward against them everywhere; let them shoot or cut down even one man, there would be war at once. The Northerners themselves know not what to do now, for Lithuania is given up to the Swedes; they stay therefore in one place, only waiting for what will be, and warring no further. For these reasons they do not restrain Radzivill, nor oppose him. He will go directly against you, and will destroy you one after the other, unless you collect in one body. For God’s sake, do this, and beg the voevoda of Vityebsk to come quickly, since it is easier for him to reach you now through the Northerners while they stand as if stupefied. I wanted to warn you under another name, so that you might more easily believe, but because tidings are given you already from another, I write my own name. It is destruction if you do not believe. I am not now what I was, and God grant that you will hear something altogether different about me.
Kmita.
“You wished to know how Radzivill would come to us; here is your answer!” said Pan Yan.
“That is true, he gives good reasons,” answered Volodyovski.
“What good reasons! holy reasons!” cried Zagloba. “There can be no doubt here. I was the first to know that man; and though there are no curses that have not been showered on his head, I tell you we shall bless him yet. With me it is enough to look at a man to know his value. You remember how he dropped into my heart at Kyedani? He loves us, too, as knightly people. When he heard my name the first time, he came near suffocating me with admiration, and for my sake saved you all.”
“You have not changed,” remarked Jendzian; “why should Pan Kmita admire you more than my master or Pan Volodyovski?”
“You are a fool!” answered Zagloba. “He knew you at once; and if he called you the tenant, and not the fool of Vansosh, it was through politeness.”
“Then maybe he admired you through politeness!” retorted Jendzian.
“See how the bread swells; get married, lord tenant, and surely you will swell better — I guarantee that.”
“That is all well,” said Volodyovski; “but if he is so friendly, why did he not come to us himself instead of slipping around us like a wolf and biting our men?”
“Not your head, Pan Michael. What we counsel do you carry out, and no evil will come of it. If your wit were as good as your sabre, you would be grand hetman already, in place of Revera Pototski. And why should Kmita come here? Is it not because you would not believe him, just as you do not now believe his letter, from which it might come to great trouble, for he is a stubborn cavalier. But suppose that you did believe him, what would the other colonels do, such as Kotovski, Jyromski, or Lipnitski? What would your Lauda men say? Would not they cut him down the moment you turned your hea
d away?”
“Father is right!” said Pan Yan; “he could not come here.”
“Then why was he going to the Swedes?” insisted the stubborn Pan Michael.
“The devil knows, whether he is going to the Swedes; the devil knows what may flash into Kmita’s wild noddle. That is nothing to us, but let us take advantage of the warning, if we wish to carry away our heads.”
“There is nothing to meditate on here,” said Pan Stanislav.
“It is needful to inform with all speed Kotovski, Jyromski, Lipnitski, and that other Kmita,” said Pan Yan. “Send to them, Michael, news at once; but do not write who gave the warning, for surely they would not believe.”
“We alone shall know whose the service, and in due time we shall not fail to publish it!” cried Zagloba, “Onward, lively, Michael!”
“And we will move to Byalystok ourselves, appointing a muster there for all. God give us the voevoda of Vityebsk at the earliest,” said Yan.
“From Byalystok we must send a deputation from the army to him. God grant that we shall stand before the eyes of the hetman of Lithuania,” said Zagloba, “with equal force or greater than his own. It is not for us to rush at him, but it is different with the voevoda. He is a worthy man, and honest; there is not another such in the Commonwealth.”
“Do you know Pan Sapyeha?” asked Stanislav.
“Do I know him! I knew him as a little boy, not higher than my sabre. But he was then like an angel.”
“And now he has turned into money, not only his property, not only his silver and jewels, but most likely he has melted into coin the metal of his horse-trappings, so as to collect as many troops as possible against the enemy,” said Volodyovski.
“Thank God that there is even one such man,” answered Pan Stanislav, “for remember how we trusted in Radzivill.”
“Oh that is blasphemous!” cried Zagloba. “Voevoda of Vityebsk, ba! ba! Long life to the voevoda of Vityebsk! And you, Michael, to the road with all speed, to the road! Let the mudfish remain in these swamps of Shchuchyn, but we will go to Byalystok, where perhaps we shall find other fish. The Jews there, on Sabbath, bake very excellent bread. Well, at least war will begin; I am yearning for it. And if we break through Radzivill we will begin at the Swedes. We have shown them already what we can do. To the road, Michael, for periculum in mora (there is danger in delay)!”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 149