The sedate matron became greatly confused, and pushed back somewhat from the jovial knight; the younger women dropped their eyes, divining easily that the pranks of which Pan Zagloba was talking must be something opposed to their native modesty, especially since the soldiers burst into loud laughter.
“It will be needful to send to Pan Rushchyts at once,” said Basia, “so that Pan Pyotrovich may find the letters ready in Rashkoff.”
“Hasten with the whole affair,” added Pan Bogush, “while it is winter: for, first, no chambuls come out, and roads are safe; secondly, in the spring God knows what may happen.”
“Has the hetman news from Tsargrad?” inquired Volodyovski.
“He has; and of this we must talk apart. It is necessary to finish quickly with those captains. When will Mellehovich come back? — for much depends on him.”
“He has only to destroy the rest of the ravagers, and afterward bury the dead. He ought to return to-day or to-morrow morning. I commanded him to bury only our men, not Azba’s; for winter is at hand, and there is no danger of infection. Besides, the wolves will clear them away.”
“The hetman asks,” said Pan Bogush, “that Mellehovich should have no hindrance in his work; as often as he wishes to go to Rashkoff, let him go. The hetman asks, too, to trust him in everything, for he is certain of his devotion. He is a great soldier, and may do us much good.”
“Let him go to Rashkoff and whithersoever he pleases,” said the little knight. “Since we have destroyed Azba, I have no urgent need of him. No large band will appear now till the first grass.”
“Is Azba cut to pieces then?” inquired Novoveski.
“So cut up that I do not know if twenty-five men escaped; and even those will be caught one by one, if Mellehovich has not caught them already.”
“I am terribly glad of this,” said Novoveski, “for now it will be possible to go to Rashkoff in safety.” Here he turned to Basia: “We can take to Pan Rushchyts the letters which her grace, our benefactress, has mentioned.”
“Thank you,” answered Basia; “there are occasions here continually, for men are sent expressly.”
“All the commands must maintain communication,” said Pan Michael. “But are you going to Rashkoff, indeed, with this young beauty?”
“Oh, this is an ordinary puss, not a beauty, gracious benefactor,” said Novoveski; “and I am going to Rashkoff, for my son, the rascal, is serving there under the banner of Pan Rushchyts. It is nearly ten years since he ran away from home, and knocks at my fatherly clemency only with letters.”
“I guessed at once that you were Pan Adam’s father, and I was about to inquire; but we were so taken up with sorrow for Pani Boski. I guessed it at once, for there is a resemblance in features. Well, then, he is your son?”
“So his late mother declared; and as she was a virtuous woman, I have no reason for doubt.”
“I am doubly glad to have such a guest as you. For God’s sake, but do not call your son a rascal; for he is a famous soldier, and a worthy cavalier, who brings the highest honor to your grace. Do you not know that, after Pan Rushchyts, he is the best partisan in the squadron? Do you not know that he is an eye in the head of the hetman? Independent commands are intrusted to him, and he has fulfilled every function with incomparable credit.”
Pan Novoveski flushed from delight. “Gracious Colonel,” said he, “more than once a father blames his child only to let some one deny what he says; and I think that ’tis impossible to please a parent’s heart more than by such a denial. Reports have reached me already of Adam’s good service; but I am really comforted now for the first time, when I hear these reports confirmed by such renowned lips. They say that he is not only a manful soldier, but steady, — which is even a wonder to me, for he was always a whirlwind. The rogue had a love for war from youth upward; and the best proof of this is that he ran away from home as a boy. If I could have caught him at that time, I would not have spared him. But now I must spare him; if not, he would hide for ten other years, and it is dreary for me, an old man, without him.”
“And has he not been home during so many years?”
“He has not; I forbade him. But I have had enough of it, and now I go to him, since he, being in service, cannot come to me. I intended to ask of you and my benefactress a refuge for this maiden while I went to Rashkoff alone; but since you say that it is safe everywhere, I will take her. She is curious, the magpie, to see the world. Let her look at it.”
“And let people look at her,” put in Zagloba. “Ah, they would have nothing to see,” said the young lady, out of whose dark eyes and mouth, fixed as if for a kiss, something quite different was speaking.
“An ordinary puss, — nothing more than a puss!” said Pan Novoveski. “But if she sees a handsome officer, something may happen; therefore I chose to bring her with me rather than leave her, especially as it is dangerous for a girl at home alone. But if I go without her to Rashkoff, then let her grace give command to tie her with a cord, or she will play pranks.”
“I was no better myself,” said Basia. “They gave her a distaff to spin,” said Zagloba; “but she danced with it, since she had no one better to dance with. But you are a jovial man. Basia, I should like to have an encounter with Pan Novoveski, for I also am fond of amusement at times.”
Meanwhile, before supper was served, the door opened, and Mellehovich entered. Pan Novoveski did not notice him at once, for he was talking with Zagloba; but Eva saw him, and a flame struck her face; then she grew pale suddenly.
“Pan Commandant,” said Mellehovich to Pan Michael, “according to order, those men were caught.”
“Well, where are they?”
“According to order, I had them hanged.”
“Well done! And have your men returned?”
“A part remained to bury the bodies; the rest are with me.”
At this moment Pan Novoveski raised his head, and great astonishment was reflected on his face. “In God’s name, what do I see?” cried he. Then he rose, went straight to Mellehovich, and said, “Azya! And what art thou doing here, ruffian?”
He raised his hand to seize the Tartar by the collar; but in Mellehovich there was such an outburst in one moment as there is when a man throws a handful of powder into fire; he grew pale as a corpse, and seizing with iron grasp the hand of Novoveski, he said, “I do not know you! Who are you?” and pushed him so violently that Novoveski staggered to the middle of the room. For some time he could not utter a word from rage; but regaining breath, began to cry, — .
“Gracious Commandant, this is my man, and besides that, a runaway. He was in my house from childhood. The ruffian denies! He is my man! Eva, who is he? Tell.”
“Azya,” said Eva, trembling in all her body.
Mellehovich did not even look at her. With eyes fixed on Novoveski, and with quivering nostril, he looked at the old noble with unspeakable hatred, pressing with his hand the handle of his knife. At the same time his mustaches began to quiver from the movement of his nostrils, and from under those mustaches white teeth were gleaming, like those of an angry wild beast.
The officers stood in a circle; Basia sprang in between Mellehovich and Novoveski. “What does this mean?” asked she, frowning.
“Pan Commandant,” said Novoveski, “this is my man, Azya by name, and a runaway. Serving in youthful years in the Crimea, I found him half-alive on the steppe, and I took him. He is a Tartar. He remained twelve years in my house, and was taught together with my son. When my son ran away, this one helped me in management until he wished to make love to Eva; seeing this, I had him flogged: he ran away after that. What is his name here?”
“Mellehovich.”
“He has assumed that name. He is called Azya, — nothing more. He says that he does not know me; but I know him, and so does Eva.”
“Your grace’s son has seen him many times,” said Basia. “Why did not he know him?”
“My son might not know him; for when he ran away from home, both w
ere fifteen years old, and this one remained six years with me afterward, during which time he changed considerably, grew, and got mustaches. But Eva knew him at once. Gracious hosts, you will lend belief more quickly to a citizen than to this accident from the Crimea!”
“Pan Mellehovich is an officer of the hetman,” said Basia; “we have nothing to do with him.”
“Permit me; I will ask him. Let the other side be heard,” said the little knight.
But Pan Novoveski was furious. “Pan Mellehovich! What sort of a Pan is he? — My serving-lad, who has hidden himself under a strange name. To-morrow I’ll make my dog keeper of that Pan; the day after to-morrow I’ll give command to beat that Pan with clubs. And the hetman himself cannot hinder me; for I am a noble, and I know my rights.”
To this Pan Michael answered more sharply, and his mustaches quivered. “I am not only a noble, but a colonel, and I know my rights too. You can demand your man, by law, and have recourse to the jurisdiction of the hetman; but I command here, and no one else does.”
Pan Novoveski moderated at once, remembering that he was talking, not only to a commandant, but to his own son’s superior, and besides the most noted knight in the Commonwealth. “Pan Colonel,” said he, in a milder tone, “I will not take him against the will of your grace; but I bring forward my rights, and I beg you to believe me.”
“Mellehovich, what do you say to this?” asked Volodyovski.
The Tartar fixed his eyes on the floor, and was silent.
“That your name is Azya we all know,” added Pan Michael.
“There are other proofs to seek,” said Novoveski. “If he is my man, he has fish tattooed in blue on his breast.”
Hearing this, Pan Nyenashinyets opened his eyes widely and his mouth; then he seized himself by the head, and cried, “Azya, Tugai Beyovich!”
All eyes were turned on him; he trembled throughout his whole body, as if all his wounds were reopened, and he repeated, “That is my captive! That is Tugai Bey’s son. As God lives, it is he.”
But the young Tartar raised his head proudly, cast his wild-cat glance on the assembly, and pulling open suddenly the clothes on his bosom, said, “Here are the fish tattooed in blue. I am the son of Tugai Bey!”
CHAPTER XXIX.
All were silent, so great was the impression which the name of the terrible warrior had made. Tugai Bey was the man who, in company with the dreadful Hmelnitski, had shaken the entire Commonwealth; he had shed a whole sea of Polish blood; he had trampled the Ukraine, Volynia, Podolia, and the lands of Galicia with the hoofs of horses; had destroyed castles and towns, had visited villages with fire, had taken tens of thousands of people captive. The son of such a man was now there before the assembly in the stanitsa of Hreptyoff, and said to the eyes of people: “I have blue fish on my breast; I am Azya, bone of the bone of Tugai Bey.” But such was the honor among people of that time for famous blood that in spite of the terror which the name of the celebrated murza must have called forth in the soul of each soldier, Mellehovich increased in their eyes as if he had taken on himself the whole greatness of his father.
They looked on him with wonderment, especially the women, for whom every mystery becomes the highest charm; he too, as if he had increased in his own eyes through his confession, grew haughty: he did not drop his head a whit, but said in conclusion, —
“That noble” — here he pointed at Novoveski— “says I am his man; but this is my reply to him: ‘My father mounted his steed from the backs of men better than you.’ He says truly also that I was with him, for I was, and under his rods my back streamed with blood, which I shall not forget, so help me God! I took the name of Mellehovich to escape his pursuit. But now, though I might have gone to the Crimea, I am serving this fatherland with my blood and health, and I am under no one but the hetman. My father was a relative of the Khan, and in the Crimea wealth and luxury were waiting for me; but I remained here in contempt, for I love this fatherland, I love the hetman, and I love those who have never disdained me.”
When he had said this, he bowed to Volodyovski, bowed so low before Basia that his head almost touched her knees; then, without looking on any one again, he took his sabre under his arm, and walked out.
For a time yet silence continued. Zagloba spoke first. “Ha! Where is Pan Snitko! But I said that a wolf was looking out of the eyes of that Azya; and he is the son of a wolf!”
“The son of a lion!” said Volodyovski; “and who knows if he hasn’t taken after his father?”
“As God lives, gentlemen, did you notice how his teeth glittered, just like those of old Tugai when he was in anger?” said Pan Mushalski. “By that alone I should have known him, for I saw old Tugai often.”
“Not so often as I,” said Zagloba.
“Now I understand,” put in Bogush, “why he is so much esteemed among the Tartars of Lithuania and the South. And they remember Tugai’s name as sacred. By the living God, if that man had the wish, he might take every Tartar to the Sultan’s service, and cause us a world of trouble.”
“He will not do that,” answered Pan Michael, “for what he has said — that he loves the country and the hetman — is true; otherwise he would not be serving among us, being able to go to the Crimea and swim there in everything. He has not known luxury with us.”
“He will not go to the Crimea,” said Pan Bogush, “for if he had had the wish, he could have done so already; he met no hindrance.”
“On the contrary,” added Nyenashinyets, “I believe now that he will entice back all those traitorous captains to the Commonwealth again.”
“Pan Novoveski,” said Zagloba, suddenly, “if you had known that he was the son of Tugai Bey, perhaps then — perhaps so — what?”
“I should have commanded to give him, instead of three hundred, three thousand blows. May the thunderbolts shatter me if I would not have done so! Gracious gentlemen, it is a wonder to me that he, being Tugai Bey’s whelp, did not run off to the Crimea, It must be that he discovered this only recently; for when with me he knew nothing about it. This is a wonder to me, I tell you it is; but for God’s sake, do not trust him. I know him, gentlemen, longer than you do; and I will tell you only this much: the devil is not so slippery, a mad dog is not so irritable, a wolf is less malignant and cruel, than that man. He will pour tallow under the skins of you all yet.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Mushalski. “We have seen him in action at Kalnik, at Uman, at Bratslav, and in a hundred other emergencies.”
“He will not forget his own; he will have vengeance,” said Novoveski.
“But to-day he slew Azba’s ravagers. What are you telling us?”
Meanwhile Basia was all on fire, that history of Mellehovich occupied her so much; but she was anxious that the end should be worthy of the beginning; therefore, shaking Eva Novoveski, she whispered in her ear, “But you loved him, Eva? Own up; don’t deny! You loved him. You love him yet, do you not? I am sure you do. Be outspoken with me. In whom can you confide, if not in me, a woman? There is almost royal blood in him. The hetman will get him, not one, but ten naturalizations. Pan Novoveski will not oppose. Undoubtedly Azya himself loves you yet. I know already; I know, I know. Never fear. He has confidence in me. I will put the question to him at once. He will, tell me without torture. You loved him terribly; you love him yet, do you not?”
Eva was as if dazed. When Azya showed his inclination to her the first time, she was almost a child; after that she did not see him for a number of years, and had ceased to think of him. There remained with her the remembrance of him as a passionate stripling, who was half comrade to her brother, and half serving-lad. But now she saw him again; he stood before her a handsome hero and fierce as a falcon, a famous warrior, and, besides, the son of a foreign, it is true, but princely, stock. Therefore young Azya seemed to her altogether different; therefore the sight of him stunned her, and at the time dazzled and charmed her. Memories of him appeared before her as in a dream. Her heart could not love the
young man in one moment, but in one moment she felt in it an agreeable readiness to love him.
Basia, unable to question her to the end, took her, with Zosia Boski, to an alcove, and began again to insist, “Eva, tell me quickly, awfully quickly, do you love him?”
A flame beat into the face of Eva. She was a dark-haired and dark-eyed maiden, with hot blood; and that blood flew to her cheeks at any mention of love.
“Eva,” repeated Basia, for the tenth time, “do you love him?”
“I do not know,” answered Eva, after a moment’s hesitation.
“But you don’t deny? Oho! I know. Do not hesitate. I told Michael first that I loved him, — no harm! and it was well. You must have loved each other terribly this long time. Ha! I understand now. It is from yearning for you that he has always been so gloomy; he went around like a wolf. The poor soldier withered away almost. What passed between you? Tell me.”
“He told me in the storehouse that he loved me,” whispered Eva.
“In the storehouse! What then?”
“Then he caught me and began to kiss me,” continued she, in a still lower voice.
“Maybe I don’t know him, that Mellehovich! And what did you do?”
“I was afraid to scream.”
“Afraid to scream! Zosia, do you hear that? When was your loving found out?”
“Father came in, and struck him on the spot with a hatchet; then he whipped me, and gave orders to flog him so severely that he was a fortnight in bed.”
Here Eva began to cry, partly from sorrow, and partly from confusion. At sight of this, the dark-blue eyes of the sensitive Zosia filled with tears, then Basia began to comfort Eva, “All will be well, my head on that! And I will harness Michael into the work, and Pan Zagloba. I will persuade them, never fear. Against the wit of Pan Zagloba nothing can stand; you do not know him. Don’t cry, Eva dear, it is time for supper.”
Mellehovich was not at supper. He was sitting in his own room, warming at the fire gorailka and mead, which he poured into a smaller cup afterward and drank, eating at the same time dry biscuits. Pan Bogush came to him late in the evening to talk over news.
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 270