Basia, hearing this, turned to Mellehovich and reached her hand to him. “I thank you for good offices.”
He made no answer, only pressed the hand to his mouth, and then embraced with submission her feet, like a peasant.
Meanwhile more of the squadron assembled at the edge of the cleft; Pan Michael simply gave orders to Mellehovich to form a circle around the few robbers who had hidden from pursuit, and then started for Hreptyoff. On the road Basia saw the field of battle once more from the height. The bodies of men and horses lay in places in piles, in places singly. Through the blue sky flocks of ravens were approaching more and more numerously, with great cawing, and coming down at a distance, waited till the soldiers, still going about on the plain, should depart.
“Here are the soldiers’ gravediggers!” said Zagloba, pointing at the birds with his sabre; “let us only go away, and wolves will come too, with their orchestra, and will ring with their teeth over these dead men. This is a notable victory, though gained over such a vile enemy; for that Azba has ravaged here and there for a number of years. Commandants have hunted him like a wolf, always in vain, till at last he met Michael, and the black hour came on him.”
“Is Azba Bey killed?”
“Mellehovich overtook him first; and I tell you if he did not cut him over the ear! The sabre went to his teeth.”
“Mellehovich is a good soldier,” said Basia. Here she turned to Zagloba, “And have you done much?”
“I did not chirp like a cricket, nor jump like a flea, for I leave such amusement to insects. But if I did not, men did not look for me among moss, like mushrooms; no one pulled my nose, and no one touched my face.”
“I do not like you!” said Basia, pouting, and reaching involuntarily to her nose, which was red.
And he looked at her, smiled, and muttered, without ceasing to joke, “You fought valiantly, you fled valiantly, you went valiantly heels over head; and now, from pain in your bones, you will put away kasha so valiantly that we shall be forced to take care of you, lest the sparrows eat you up with your valor, for they are very fond of kasha.”
“You are talking in that way so that Michael may not take me on another expedition. I know you perfectly!”
“But, but I will ask him to take you nutting always, for you are skilful, and do not break branches under you. My God, that is gratitude to me! And who persuaded Michael to let you go? I. I reproach myself now severely, especially since you pay me so for my devotion. Wait! you will cut stalks now on the square at Hreptyoff with a wooden sword! Here is an expedition for you! Another woman would hug the old man; but this scolding Satan frightens me first, and threatens me afterward.”
Basia, without hesitating long, embraced Zagloba. He was greatly delighted, and said, “Well, well! I must confess that you helped somewhat to the victory of to-day; for the soldiers, since each wished to exhibit himself, fought with terrible fury.”
“As true as I live,” cried Pan Mushalski, “a man is not sorry to die when such eyes are upon him.”
“Vivat our lady!” cried Pan Nyenashinyets.
“Vivat!” cried a hundred voices.
“God give her health!”
Here Zagloba inclined toward her and muttered, “After faintness!”
And they rode forward joyously, shouting, certain of a feast in the evening. The weather became wonderful. The trumpeters played in the squadrons, the drummers beat their drums, and all entered Hreptyoff with an uproar.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Beyond every expectation, the Volodyovskis found guests at the fortalice. Pan Bogush had come; he had determined to fix his residence at Hreptyoff for some months, so as to treat through Mellehovich with the Tartar captains Aleksandrovich, Moravski, Tvorovski, Krychinski, and others, either of the Lithuanian or Ukraine Tartars, who had gone to the service of the Sultan. Pan Bogush was accompanied also by old Pan Novoveski and his daughter Eva, and by Pani Boski, a sedate person, with her daughter, Panna Zosia, who was young yet, and very beautiful. The sight of ladies in the Wilderness and in wild Hreptyoff delighted, but still more astonished, the soldiers. The guests, too, were surprised at sight of the commandant and his wife; for the first, judging from his extended and terrible fame, they imagined to be some kind of giant, who by his very look would terrify people, his wife as a giantess with brows ever frowning and a rude voice. Meanwhile they saw before them a little soldier, with a kindly and friendly face, and also a tiny woman, rosy as a doll, who, in her broad trousers and with her sabre, seemed more like a beautiful boy than a grown person. None the less did the hosts receive their visitors with open arms. Basia kissed heartily, before presentation, the three women; when they told who they were, and whence they had come, she said, —
“I should rejoice to bend the heavens for you, ladies, and for you, gentlemen. I am awfully glad to see you! It is well that no misfortune has met you on the road, for in our desert, you see, such a thing is not difficult; but this very day we have cut the ravagers to pieces.”
Seeing then that Pani Boski was looking at her with increasing astonishment, she struck her sabre, and added with great boastfulness, “Ah, but I was in the fight! Of course I was. That’s the way with us! For God’s sake, permit me, ladies, to go out and put on clothing proper to my sex, and wash my hands from blood a little; for I am coming from a terrible battle. Oh, if we hadn’t cut down Azba today, perhaps you ladies would not have arrived without accident at Hreptyoff. I will return in a moment, and Michael will be at your service meanwhile.”
She vanished through the door; and then the little knight, who had greeted Pan Novoveski already, pushed up to Pani Boski. “God has given me such a wife,” said he to her, “that she is not only a loving companion in the house, but can be a valiant comrade in the field. Now, at her command I offer my services to your ladyship.”
“May God bless her in everything,” answered Pani Boski, “as He has blessed her in beauty! I am Antonia Boski; I have not come to exact services from your grace, but to beg on my knees for aid and rescue in misfortune. Zosia, kneel down here too before the knight; for if he cannot help us, no man can.”
Pani Boski fell on her knees then, and the comely Zosia followed her example; both, shedding ardent tears, began to cry, “Save us, knight! Have pity on orphans!”
A crowd of officers, made curious, drew near on seeing the kneeling women, and especially because the sight of the comely Zosia attracted them; the little knight, greatly confused, raised Pani Boski, and seated her on a bench. “In God’s name,” asked he, “what are you doing? I should kneel first before a worthy woman. Tell, your ladyship, in what I can render assistance, and as God is in heaven, I will not delay.”
“He will do what he promises; I, on my part, offer myself! Zagloba sum! it is enough for you to know that!” said the old warrior, moved by the tears of the women.
Then Pani Boski beckoned to Zosia; she took quickly from her bosom a letter, which she gave to the little knight. He looked at the letter and said, “From the hetman!” Then he broke the seal and began to read: —
Very Dear and Beloved Volodyovski! — I send from the road to you, through Pan Bogush, my sincere love and instructions, which Pan Bogush will communicate to you personally. I have barely recovered from fatigues in Yavorov, when immediately another affair comes up. This affair is very near my heart, because of the affection which I bear soldiers, whom if I forgot, the Lord God would forget me. Pan Boski, a cavalier of great honor and a dear comrade, was taken by the horde some years since, near Kamenyets. I have given shelter to his wife and daughter in Yavorov; but their hearts are weeping, — one for a husband, the other for a father. I wrote through Pyotrovich to Pan Zlotnitski, our Resident in the Crimea, to look for Pan Boski everywhere. They found him, it seems; but the Tartars hid him afterward, therefore he could not be given up with other prisoners, and doubtless is rowing in a galley to this time. The women, despairing and hopeless, have ceased to importune me; but I, on returning recently, and seeing their unappe
ased sorrow, could not refrain from attempting some rescue. You are near the place, and have concluded, as I know, brotherhood with many murzas. I send the ladies to you, therefore, and do you give them aid. Pyotrovich will go soon to the Crimea. Give him letters to those murzas with whom you are in brotherhood. I cannot write to the vizir or the Khan, for they are not friendly to me; and besides, I fear that if I should write, they would consider Boski a very eminent person, and increase the ransom beyond measure. Commend the affair urgently to Pyotrovich, and command him not to return without Boski. Stir up all your brothers; though Pagans, they observe plighted faith always, and must have great respect for you. Finally, do what you please; go to Rashkoff; promise three of the most considerable Tartars in exchange, if they return Boski alive. No one knows better than you all their methods, for, as I hear, you have ransomed relatives already. God bless you, and I will love you still more, for my heart will cease to bleed. I have heard of your management in Hreptyoff, that it is quiet there. I expected this. Only keep watch on Azba. Pan Bogush will tell you all about public affairs. For God’s sake, listen carefully in the direction of Moldavia, for a great invasion will not miss us. Committing Pani Boski to your heart and efforts, I subscribe myself, etc.
Pani Boski wept without ceasing during the reading of the letter; and Zosia accompanied her, raising her blue eyes to heaven. Meanwhile, and before Pan Michael had finished, Basia ran in, dressed in woman’s garments; and seeing tears in the eyes of the ladies, began to inquire with sympathy what the matter was. Therefore Pan Michael read the hetman’s letter for her; and when she had listened to it carefully, she supported at once and with eagerness the prayers of the hetman and Pani Boski.
“The hetman has a golden heart,” cried Basia, embracing her husband; “but we shall not show a worse one, Michael. Pani Boski will stay with us till her husband’s return, and you will bring him in three months from the Crimea. In three or in two, is it not true?”
“Or to-morrow, or in an hour!” said Pan Michael, bantering. Here he turned to Pani Boski, “Decisions, as you see, are quick with my wife.”
“May God bless her for that!” said Pani Boski. “Zosia, kiss the hand of the lady commandress.”
But the lady commandress did not think of giving her hands to be kissed; she embraced Zosia again, for in some way they pleased each other at once. “Help us, gracious gentlemen,” cried she. “Help us, and quickly!”
“Quickly, for her head is burning!” muttered Zagloba.
But Basia, shaking her yellow forelock, said, “Not my head, but the hearts of those gentlemen are burning from sorrow.”
“No one will oppose your honest intention,” said Pan Michael; “but first we must hear Pani Boski’s story in detail.”
“Zosia, tell everything as it was, for I cannot, from tears,” said the matron.
Zosia dropped her eyes toward the floor, covering them entirely with the lids; then she became as red as a cherry, not knowing how to begin, and was greatly abashed at having to speak in such a numerous assembly.
But Basia came to her aid. “Zosia, and when did they take Pan Boski captive?”
“Five years ago, in 1667,” said Zosia, with a thin voice, without raising the long lashes from her eyes. And she began in one breath to tell the story: “There were no raids to be heard of at that time, and papa’s squadron was near Panyovtsi. Papa, with Pan Bulayovski, was looking after men who were herding cattle in the meadows, and the Tartars came then on the Wallachian road, and took papa, with Pan Bulayovski; but Pan Bulayovski returned two years ago, and papa has not returned.”
Here two tears began to flow down Zosia’s cheeks, so that Zagloba was moved at sight of them, and said, “Poor girl! Do not fear, child; papa will return, and will dance yet at your wedding.”
“But did the hetman write to Pan Zlotnitski through Pyotrovich?” inquired Volodyovski.
“The hetman wrote about papa to the sword-bearer of Poznan,” recited Zosia; “and the sword-bearer and Pan Pyotrovich found papa with Aga Murza Bey.”
“In God’s name! I know that Murza Bey. I was in brotherhood with his brother,” said Volodyovski. “Would he not give up Pan Boski?”
“There was a command of the Khan to give up papa; but Murza Bey is severe, cruel. He hid papa, and told Pan Pyotrovich that he had sold him long before into Asia. But other captives told Pan Pyotrovich that that was not true, and that the murza only said that purposely, so that he might abuse papa longer; for he is the cruellest of all the Tartars toward prisoners. Perhaps papa was not in the Crimea then; for the murza has his own galleys, and needs men for rowing. But papa was not sold; all the prisoners said that the murza would rather kill a prisoner than sell him.”
“Holy truth!” said Pan Mushalski. “They know that Murza Bey in the whole Crimea. He is a very rich Tartar, but wonderfully venomous against our people, for four brothers of his fell in campaigns against us.”
“But has he never formed brotherhood among our people?” asked Pan Michael.
“It is doubtful!” answered the officers from every side.
“Tell me once what that brotherhood is,” said Basia.
“You see,” said Zagloba, “when negotiations are begun at the end of war, men from both armies visit one another and enter into friendship. It happens then that an officer inclines to himself a murza, and a murza an officer; then they vow to each other life-friendship, which they call brotherhood. The more famous a man is, as Michael, for instance, or I, or Pan Rushchyts, who holds command in Rashkoff now, the more is his brotherhood sought. It is clear that such a man will not conclude brotherhood with some common fellow, but will seek it only among the most renowned murzas. The custom is this, — they pour water on their sabres and swear mutual friendship; do you understand?”
“And how if it comes to war afterward?”
“They can fight in a general war; but if they meet alone, if they are attacking as skirmishers, they will greet each other, and depart in friendship. Also if one of them falls into captivity, the other is bound to alleviate it, and in the worst case to ransom him; indeed, there have been some who shared their property with brothers. When it is a question of friends or acquaintances, or of finding some one, brothers go to brothers; and justice commands us to acknowledge that no people observe such oaths better than the Tartars. The word is the main thing with them, and, such a friend you can trust certainly.”
“But has Michael many such?”
“I have three powerful murzas,” answered Volodyovski; “and one of them is from Lubni times. Once I begged him of Prince Yeremi. Aga Bey is his name; and even now, if he had to lay his head down for me, he would lay it down. The other two are equally reliable.”
“Ah,” said Basia, “I should like to conclude brotherhood with the Khan himself, and free all the prisoners.”
“He would not be averse to that,” said Zagloba; “but it is not known what reward he would ask of you.”
“Permit me, gentlemen,” said Pan Michael; “let us consider what we ought to do. Now listen; we have news from Kamenyets that in two weeks at the furthest Pyotrovich will be here with a numerous escort. He will go to the Crimea with ransom for a number of Armenian merchants from Kamenyets, who at the change of the Khan were plundered and taken captive. That happened to Seferovich, the brother of Pretor. All those people are very wealthy; they will not spare money, and Pyotrovich will go well provided. No danger threatens him; for, first, winter is near, and it is not the time for chambuls, and, secondly, with him are going Naviragh, the delegate of the Patriarch of Echmiadzin, and the two Anardrats from Kaffa, who have a safe-conduct from the young Khan. I will give letters to Pyotrovich to the residents of the Commonwealth and to my brothers. Besides, it is known to you, gentlemen, that Pan Rushchyts, the commandant at Rashkoff, has relatives in the horde, who, taken captive in childhood, have become thoroughly Tartar, and have risen to dignities. All these will move earth and heaven, will try negotiations; in case of stubbornness on the part of th
e murza, they will rouse the Khan himself against him, or perhaps they will twist the murza’s head somewhere in secret. I hope, therefore, that if, which God grant, Pan Boski is alive, I shall get him in a couple of months without fail, as the hetman commands, and my immediate superior here present” (at this Pan Michael bowed to his wife).
His immediate superior sprang to embrace the little knight the second time. Pani and Panna Boski clasped their hands, thanking God, who had permitted them to meet such kindly people. Both became notably cheerful, therefore.
“If the old Khan were alive,” said Pan Nyenashinyets, “all would go more smoothly; for he was greatly devoted to us, and of the young one they say the opposite. In fact, those Armenian merchants for whom Pan Pyotrovich is to go, were imprisoned in Bagchesarai itself during the time of the young Khan, and probably at his command.”
“There will be a change in the young, as there was in the old Khan, who, before he convinced himself of our honesty, was the most inveterate enemy of the Polish name,” said Zagloba. “I know this best, for I was seven years under him in captivity. Let the sight of me give comfort to your ladyship,” continued he, taking a seat near Pani Boski. “Seven years is no joke; and still I returned and crushed so many of those dog brothers that for each day of my captivity I sent at least two of them to hell; and for Sundays and holidays who knows if there will not be three or four? Ha!”
“Seven years!” repeated Pani Boski, with a sigh.
“May I die if I add a day! Seven years in the very palace of the Khan,” confirmed Zagloba, blinking mysteriously. “And you must know that that young Khan is my—” Here he whispered something in the ear of Pani Boski, burst into a loud “Ha, ha, ha!” and began to stroke his knees with his palms; finally he slapped Pani Boski’s knees, and said, “They were good times, were they not? In youth every man you met was an enemy, and every day a new prank, ha!”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 269