CHAPTER V.
A number of days passed, and Kmita did not return; but three men ofLauda came to Vodokty with complaints to the lady. Pakosh Gashtovt fromPatsuneli came,--the same who was entertaining at his house PanVolodyovski. He was the patriarch of the village, famed for wealth andsix daughters, of whom three had married Butryms, and received each onehundred coined dollars as dowry, besides clothing and cattle. Thesecond who came was Kassyan Butrym, who remembered Batory well, andwith him the son-in-law of Pakosh, Yuzva Butrym; the latter, though inthe prime of life,--he was not more than fifty years old,--did not goto Rossyeni to the registry of the general militia, for in the Cossackwars a cannon-ball had torn off his foot. He was called on this accountAnkle-foot, or Yuzva Footless. He was a terrible man, with the strengthof a bear, and great sense, but harsh, surly, judging men severely. Forthis reason he was feared somewhat in the capitals, for he could notpardon either himself or others. He was dangerous also when in liquor;but that happened rarely.
These men came, then, to the lady, who received them graciously, thoughshe divined at once that they had come to make complaints, and wantedto hear something from her regarding Pan Kmita.
"We wish to pay our respects to Pan Kmita, but perhaps he has not comeback yet from Upita," said Pakosh; "so we have come to inquire, ourdear darling, when it will be possible to see him."
"I think the only hindrance is that he is not here," answered the lady."He will be glad with his whole soul to see you, my guardians, for hehas heard much good concerning you,--in old times from my grandfather,and lately from me."
"If only he does not receive us as he received the Domasheviches whenthey went to him with tidings of the colonel's death," muttered Yuzva,sullenly.
The lady listened to the end, and answered at once with animation: "Benot unjust about that. Perhaps he did not receive them politely enough,but he has confessed his fault in this house. It should be rememberedtoo that he was returning from a war in which he endured much toil andsuffering. We must not wonder at a soldier, even if he snaps at hisown, for warriors have tempers like sharp swords."
Pakosh Gashtovt, who wished always to be in accord with the wholeworld, waved his hand and said: "We did not wonder, either. A beastsnaps at a beast when it sees one suddenly; why should not a man snapat a man? We will go to old Lyubich to greet Pan Kmita, so thathe may live with us, go to war and to the wilderness, as the lateunder-chamberlain used to do."
"Well, tell us, dear darling, did he please you or did he not pleaseyou?" asked Kassyan Butrym. "It is our duty to ask this."
"God reward you for your care. Pan Kmita is an honorable cavalier, andeven if I had found something against him it would not be proper tospeak of it."
"But have you not seen something, our dearest soul?"
"Nothing! Besides, no one has the right to judge him here, and God saveus from showing distrust. Let us rather thank God."
"Why thank too early? When there will be something to thank for, thenthank; if not, then not thank," answered the sullen Yuzva, who, like agenuine man of Jmud, was very cautious and foreseeing.
"Have you spoken about the marriage?" inquired Kassyan.
Olenka dropped her eyes: "Pan Kmita wishes it as early as possible."
"That's it! and why shouldn't he wish it?" muttered Yuzva; "he is not afool! What bear is it that does not want honey from a tree? But whyhurry? Is it not better to see what kind of man he is? Father Kassyan,tell what you have on your tongue; do not doze like a hare at middayunder a ridge."
"I am not dozing, I am only turning in my head what to say," answeredthe old man. "The Lord Jesus has said, 'As Kuba [Jacob] is to God, sowill God be to Kuba.' We wish no ill to Pan Kmita, if he wishes no illto us,--which God grant, amen."
"If he will be to our thinking," said Yuzva.
Panna Billevich frowned with her falcon brows, and said with a certainhaughtiness: "Remember that we are not receiving a servant. He will bemaster here; and his will must have force, not ours. He will succeedyou in the guardianship."
"Does that mean that we must not interfere?" asked Yuzva.
"It means that you are to be friends with him, as he wishes to be afriend of yours. Moreover he is taking care of his own property here,which each man manages according to his wish. Is not this true, FatherPakosh?"
"The sacred truth," answered the old man of Patsuneli.
Yuzva turned again to old Butrym. "Do not doze, Father Kassyan!"
"I am not dozing, I am only looking into my mind."
"Then tell what you see there."
"What do I see? This is what I see: Pan Kmita is a man of great family,of high blood, and we are small people. Moreover he is a soldier offame; he alone opposed the enemy when all had dropped their hands,--Godgive as many as possible of such men! But he has a company that isworthless. Pan Pakosh, my neighbor, what have you heard about them fromthe Domasheviches? That they are all dishonored men, against whomoutlawry has been declared, infamous and condemned, with declarationsand trials hanging over them, children of the hangman. They weregrievous to the enemy, but more grievous to their own people. Theyburned, they plundered, they rioted; that is what they did. They mayhave slain people in duels or carried out executions,--that happens tohonest men; but they have lived in pure Tartar fashion, and long agowould have been rotting in prison but for the protection of Pan Kmita,who is a powerful lord. He favors and protects them, and they cling tohim just as flies do in summer to a horse. Now they have come hither,and it is known to all what they are doing. The first day at Lyubichthey fired out of pistols,--and at what?--at the portraits of the deadBilleviches, which Pan Kmita should not have permitted, for theBilleviches are his benefactors."
Olenka covered her eyes with her hands. "It cannot be! it cannot be!"
"It can, for it has been. He let them shoot at his benefactors, withwhom he was to enter into relationship; and then they dragged the girlsof the house into the room for debauchery. Tfu! an offence against God!That has never been among us! The first day they began shooting anddissoluteness,--the first day!"
Here old Kassyan grew angry, and fell to striking the floor with hisstaff. On Olenka's face were dark blushes, and Yuzva said,--
"And Pan Kmita's troops in Upita, are they better? Like officers, likemen. Some people stole Pan Sollohub's cattle; it is said they were PanKmita's men. Some persons struck down on the road peasants of Meizagolwho were drawing pitch. Who did this? They, the same soldiers. PanSollohub went to Pan Hlebovich for satisfaction, and now there isviolence in Upita again. All this is in opposition to God. It used tobe quiet here as in no other place, and now one must load a gun for thenight and stand guard; but why? Because Pan Kmita and his company havecome."
"Father Yuzva, do not talk so," cried Olenka.
"But how must I talk? If Pan Kmita is not to blame, why does he keepsuch men, why does he live with such men? Great mighty lady, tell himto dismiss them or give them up to the hangman, for otherwise therewill be no peace. Is it a thing heard of to shoot at portraits andcommit open debauchery? Why, the whole neighborhood is talking ofnothing else."
"What have I to do?" asked Olenka. "They may be evil men, but he foughtthe war with them. If he will dismiss them at my request?"
"If he does not dismiss them," muttered Yuzva, in a low voice, "he isthe same as they."
With this the lady's blood began to boil against those men, murderersand profligates.
"Let it be so. He must dismiss them. Let him choose me or them. If whatyou say is true,--and I shall know to-day if it is true,--I shall notforgive them either the shooting or the debauchery. I am alone and aweak orphan, they are an armed crowd; but I do not fear them."
"We will help you," said Yuzva.
"In God's name," continued Olenka, more and more excited, "letthem do what they like, but not here in Lyubich. Let them be as theylike,--that is their affair, their necks' answer; but let them not leadaway Pan Kmita to debauchery. Shame and disgrace! I thought they wereaw
kward soldiers, but now I see that they are vile traitors, who stainboth themselves and him. That's the truth! Wickedness was looking outof their eyes; but I, foolish woman, did not recognize it. Well, Ithank you, fathers, for opening my eyes on these Judases. I know whatit beseems me to do."
"That's it!" said old Kassyan. "Virtue speaks through you, and we willhelp you."
"Do not blame Pan Kmita, for though he has offended against goodconduct he is young; and they tempt him, they lead him away, they urgehim to license with example, and bring disgrace to his name. This isthe condition; as I live, it will not last long."
Wrath roused Olenka's heart more and more, and indignation at thecomrades of Pan Kmita increased as pain increases in a wound freshlygiven; for terribly wounded in her were the love special to woman andthat trust with which she had given her whole unmixed feeling to PanAndrei. She was ashamed, for his sake and for her own, and anger andinternal shame sought above all guilty parties.
The nobles were glad when they saw their colonel's granddaughter soterrible and ready for unyielding war against the disturbers fromOrsha.
She spoke on with sparkling eyes: "True, they are to blame; and theymust leave not only Lyubich, but the whole country-side."
"Our heart, we do not blame Pan Kmita," said old Kassyan. "We know thatthey tempt him. Not through bitterness nor venom against him have wecome, but through regret that he keeps near his person revellers. It isevident, of course, that being young he is foolish. Even Pan Hlebovichthe starosta was foolish when he was young, but now he keeps us all inorder."
"And a dog," said the mild old man from Patsuneli, with a voice ofemotion,--"if you go with a young one to the field, won't the foolinstead of running after the game fall about your feet, begin to play,and tug you by the skirts?"
Olenka wanted to say something, but suddenly she burst into tears.
"Do not cry," said Yuzva Butrym.
"Do not cry, do not cry," repeated the two old men.
They tried to comfort her, but could not. After they had gone, care,anxiety, and as it were an offended feeling against them and againstPan Andrei remained. It pained the proud lady more and more deeply thatshe had to defend, justify, and explain him. But the men of thatcompany! The delicate hands of the lady clinched at thought of them.Before her eyes appeared as if present the faces of Pan Kokosinski,Uhlik, Zend, Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus, and the others; and shediscovered what she had not seen at first, that they were shamelessfaces, on which folly, licentiousness, and crime had all fixed theirstamps in common. A feeling of hatred foreign to Olenka began to seizeher as a rattling fire seizes fuel; but together with this outburstoffence against Pan Kmita increased every minute.
"Shame, disgrace," whispered the maiden, with pallid lips, "thatyesterday he went from me to house-wenches!" and she felt herselfoverborne. A crushing burden stopped the breath in her breast.
It was growing raw out of doors. Panna Aleksandra walked in the roomwith hurried step, but anger was seething in her soul without ceasing.Hers was not the nature to endure the persecutions of fate withoutdefending herself against them. There was knightly blood in the girl.She wanted straightway to begin a struggle with that band of evilspirits,--straightway. But what remained to her? Nothing, save tearsand the prayer that Pan Andrei would send to the four winds thoseshame-bringing comrades. But if he will not do that--And she did notdare to think more of the question.
The meditations of the lady were interrupted by a youth who brought anarmful of juniper sticks to the chimney, and throwing them down at theside of the hearth, began to pull out the coals from under thesmouldering ashes. Suddenly a decision came to Olenka's mind.
"Kostek!" said she, "sit on horseback for me at once, and ride toLyubich. If the master has returned, ask him to come here; but if he isnot there, let the manager, old Znikis, mount with thee and comestraight to me, and quickly."
The youth threw some bits of pitch on the coals and covered them withclumps of dry juniper. Bright flames began to crackle and snap in thechimney. It grew somewhat lighter in Olenka's mind.
"Perhaps the Lord God will change this yet," thought she to herself,"and maybe it is not so bad as the guardians have said."
After a while she went to the servants' room to sit, according to theimmemorial custom of the Billeviches, with the maidens to oversee thespinning and sing hymns.
In two hours Kostek entered, chilled from cold. "Znikis is in theantechamber," said he. "The master is not in Lyubich."
The lady rose quickly. The manager in the antechamber bowed to herfeet. "But how is your health, serene heiress? God give you the best."
They passed into the dining-hall; Znikis halted at the door.
"What is to be heard among you people?" asked the lady.
The peasant waved his hand. "Well, the master is not there."
"I know that, because he is in Upita. But what is going on in thehouse?"
"Well!--"
"Listen, Znikis, speak boldly; not a hair will fall from thy head.People say that the master is good, but his companions wild?"
"If they were only wild, serene lady!--"
"Speak candidly."
"But, lady, if it is not permitted me--I am afraid--they have forbiddenme."
"Who has forbidden?"
"My master."
"Has he?" asked the lady.
A moment of silence ensued. She walked quickly in the room, withcompressed lips and frowning brow. He followed her with his eyes.Suddenly she stopped before him.
"To whom dost thou belong?"
"To the Billeviches. I am from Vodokty, not from Lyubich."
"Thou wilt return no more to Lyubich; stay here. Now I command thee totell all thou knowest."
The peasant cast himself on his knees at the threshold where he wasstanding. "Serene lady, I do not want to go back; the day of judgmentis there. They are bandits and cut-throats; in that place a man is notsure of the day nor the hour."
Panna Billevich staggered as if stricken by an arrow. She grew verypale, but inquired calmly, "Is it true that they fired in the room, atthe portraits?"
"Of course they fired! And they dragged girls into their rooms, andevery day the same debauchery. In the village is weeping, at the houseSodom and Gomorrah. Oxen are killed for the table, sheep for the table.The people are oppressed. Yesterday they killed the stable man withoutcause."
"Did they kill the stable-man?"
"Of course. And worst of all, they abused the girls. Those at the houseare not enough for them; they chase others through the village."
A second interval of silence followed. Hot blushes came out on thelady's face, and did not leave it.
"When do they look for the master's return?"
"They do not know, my lady. But I heard, as they were talking to oneanother, that they would have to start to-morrow for Upita with theirwhole company. They gave command to have horses ready. They will comehere and beg my lady for attendants and powder, because they need boththere."
"They are to come here? That is well. Go now, Znikis, to the kitchen.Thou wilt return to Lyubich no more."
"May God give you health and happiness!"
Panna Aleksandra had learned what she wanted, and she knew how itbehooved her to act.
The following day was Sunday. In the morning, before the ladies hadgone to church, Kokosinski, Uhlik, Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus, Ranitski,Rekuts, and Zend arrived, followed by the servants at Lyubich, armedand on horseback, for the cavaliers had decided to march to Upita withsuccor for Kmita.
The lady went out to meet them calmly and haughtily, altogetherdifferent from the woman who had greeted them for the first time a fewdays before. She barely motioned with her head in answer to theirhumble bows; but they thought that the absence of Pan Kmita made hercautious, and took no note of the real situation.
Kokosinski stepped forward more confidently than the first time, andsaid,--
"Serene great mighty lady, chief-hunter's daughter, benefactress; wehave come in here on our way to Upita to
fall at the feet of our ladybenefactress and beg for assistance, such as powder, and that you wouldpermit your servants to mount their horses and go with us. We will takeUpita by storm, and let out a little blood for the basswood-barks."
"It is a wonder to me," answered Panna Billevich, "that you are goingto Upita, when I heard myself how Pan Kmita commanded you to remainquietly in Lyubich, and I think that it beseems him to command and youto obey, as subordinates."
The cavaliers hearing these words looked at one another inastonishment. Zend pursed out his lips as if about to whistle in birdfashion. Kokosinski began to draw his broad palm over his head.
"As true as life," said he, "a man would think that you were speakingto Pan Kmita's baggage-boys. It is true that we were to sit at home;but since the fourth day is passing and Yendrus has not come, we havereached the conviction that some serious tumult may have risen, inwhich our sabres, too, would be of service."
"Pan Kmita did not go to a battle, but to punish turbulent soldiers,and punishment may meet you also if you go against orders. Besides, atumult and slashing might come to pass more quickly if you were there."
"It is hard to deliberate with your ladyship. We ask only for powderand men."
"Men and powder I will not give. Do you hear me, sirs!"
"Do I hear correctly?" asked Kokosinski. "How is this? You will notgive? You will spare in the rescue of Kmita, of Yendrus? Do you preferthat some evil should meet him?"
"The greatest evil that can meet him is your company."
Here the maiden's eyes began to flash lightning, and raising her headshe advanced some steps toward the cutthroats, and they pushed backbefore her in astonishment.
"Traitors!" said she, "you, like evil spirits, tempt him to sin; youpersuade him on. But I know you,--your profligacy, your lawless deeds.Justice is hunting you; people turn away from you, and on whom does theshame fall? On him, through you who are outlaws, and infamous."
"Hei, by God's wounds, comrades, do you hear?" cried Kokosinski. "Hei,what is this? Are we not sleeping, comrades?"
Panna Billevich advanced another step, and pointing with her hand tothe door, said, "Be off out of here!"
The ruffians grew as pale as corpses, and no one of them found a wordin answer. But their teeth began to gnash, their hands to quiver towardtheir sword-hilts, and their eyes to shoot forth malign gleams. After amoment, however, their spirits fell through alarm. That house too wasunder the protection of the powerful Kmita; that insolent lady was hisbetrothed. In view of this they gnawed their rage in silence, and shestood unflinchingly with flashing eyes pointing to the door with herfinger.
At last Kokosinski spoke in a voice broken with rage: "Since we arereceived here so courteously, nothing remains to us but to bow to thepolished lady and go--with thanks for the entertainment."
Then he bowed, touching the floor with his cap in purposed humility;after him all the others bowed, and went out in order. When the doorclosed after the last man, Olenka fell exhausted into the armchair,panting heavily, for she had not so much strength as daring.
They assembled in counsel in front of the entrance near their horses,but no man wanted to speak first. At last Kokosinski said, "Well, dearlambs, what's that?"
"Do you feel well?"
"Do you?"
"Ei! but for Kmita," said Ranitski, rubbing his hands convulsively, "wewould revel with this lady here in our own fashion."
"Go meet Kmita," piped Rekuts.
Ranitski's face was covered completely with spots, like the skin of aleopard. "I'll meet him and you too, you reveller, wherever it mayplease you!"
"That's well!" cried Rekuts.
Both rushed to their sabres, but the gigantic Kulvyets-Hippocentaurusthrust himself between. "See this fist!" said he, shaking as it were aloaf of bread; "see this fist!" repeated he. "I'll smash the head ofthe first man who draws his sabre." And he looked now at one and now atthe other, as if asking in silence who wished to try first; but they,addressed in such fashion, were quiet at once.
"Kulvyets is right," said Kokosinski. "My dear lambs, we need agreementnow more than ever. I would advise to go with all speed to Kmita, sothat she may not see him first, for she would describe us as devils. Itis well that none of us snarled at her, though my own hands and tonguewere itching. If she is going to rouse him against us, it is better forus to rouse him first. God keep him from leaving us! Straightway thepeople here would surround us, hunt us down like wolves."
"Nonsense!" said Ranitski. "They will do nothing to us. There is warnow; are there few men straggling through the world without a roof,without bread? Let us collect a party for ourselves, dear comrades, andlet all the tribunals pursue us. Give your hand, Rekuts, I forgiveyou."
"I should have cut off your ears," piped Rekuts; "but let us befriends, a common insult has met us."
"To order out cavaliers like us!" said Kokosinski.
"And me, in whom is senatorial blood!" added Ranitski.
"Honorable people, men of good birth!"
"Soldiers of merit!"
"And exiles!"
"Innocent orphans!"
"I have boots lined with wool, but my feet are freezing," saidKulvyets. "Shall we stand like minstrels in front of this house? Theywill not bring us out heated beer. We are of no use here; let us mountand ride away. Better send the servants home, for what good are theywithout guns and weapons? We will go on alone."
"To Upita!"
"To Yendrus, our worthy friend! We will make complaint before him."
"If only we do not miss him."
"To horse, comrades, to horse!"
They mounted, and moved on at a walk, chewing their anger and shame.Outside the gate Ranitski, whom rage still held as it were by thethroat, turned and threatened the house with his fist. "Ei! I wantblood! I want blood!"
"If we can only raise a quarrel between her and Kmita," saidKokosinski, "we shall go through this place yet with fire."
"That may happen."
"God aid us!" added Uhlik.
"Oh, pagan's daughter, mad heath-hen!"
Railing thus, and enraged at the lady, snarling sometimes too atthemselves, they reached the forest. They had barely passed the firsttrees when an enormous flock of crows whirled above their heads. Zendbegan at once to croak in a shrill voice; thousands of voices answeredhim from above. The flock came down so low that the horses began to befrightened at the sound of their wings.
"Shut your mouth!" cried Ranitski to Zend. "You'll croak out misfortuneon us yet. Those crows are circling over us as over carrion."
The others laughed. Zend croaked continually. The crows came down moreand more, and the party rode as if in the midst of a storm. Fools! theycould not see the ill omen.
Beyond the forest appeared Volmontovichi, toward which the cavaliersmoved at a trot, for the frost was severe; they were very cold, and itwas still a long way to Upita, but they had to lessen their speed inthe village itself. In the broad road of the village the space was fullof people, as is usual on Sundays. The Butryms, men and women, werereturning on foot and in sleighs from Mitruny after receivingindulgence. The nobles looked on these unknown horsemen, half guessingwho they were. The young women, who had heard of their license inLyubich and of the notorious public sinners whom Pan Kmita had brought,looked at them with still greater curiosity. But they rode proudly inimposing military posture, with velvet coats which they had captured,in panther-skin caps, and on sturdy horses. It was to be seen that theywere soldiers by profession,--their gestures frequent and haughty,their right hands resting on their hips, their heads erect. They gavethe way to no man, advancing in a line and shouting from time to time,"Out of the road!" One or another of the Butryms looked at them with afrown, but yielded; the party chatted among themselves about thevillage.
"See, gentlemen," said Kokosinski, "what sturdy fellows there are here;one after another like an aurochs, and each with the look of a wolf."
"If it were not for their stature and swords, they might be taken forcommon tra
sh."
"Just look at those sabres,--regular tearers, as God is dear to me!"remarked Ranitski. "I would like to make a trial with some of thosefellows." Here he began to fence with his hand: "He thus, I thus! Hethus, I thus--and check!"
"You can easily have that delight for yourself," said Rekuts. "Not muchis needed with them for a quarrel."
"I would rather engage with those girls over there," said Zend, all atonce.
"They are candles, not girls!" cried Rekuts, with enthusiasm.
"What do you say,--candles? Pine-trees! And each one has a face as ifpainted with crocus."
"It is hard to sit on a horse at such a sight."
Talking in this style, they rode out of the village and moved on againat a trot. After half an hour's ride they came to a public house calledDola, which was half-way between Volmontovichi and Mitruny. TheButryms, men and women, generally stopped there going to and returningfrom church, in order to rest and warm themselves in frosty weather. Sothe cavaliers saw before the door a number of sleighs with pea-strawspread in them, and about the same number of saddle-horses.
"Let us drink some gorailka, for it is cold," said Kokosinski.
"It wouldn't hurt," answered the others, in a chorus.
They dismounted, left their horses at the posts, and entered thedrinking-hall, which was enormous and dark. They found there a crowd ofpeople,--nobles sitting on benches or standing in groups before thewater-pail, drinking warmed beer, and some of them a punch made ofmead, butter, vudka, and spice. Those were the Butryms themselves,stalwart and gloomy; so sparing of speech that in the room scarcely anyconversation was heard. All were dressed in gray overcoats of home-madeor coarse cloth from Rossyeni, lined with sheepskin; they had leatherbelts, with sabres in black iron scabbards. By reason of thatuniformity of dress they had the appearance of soldiers. But they wereold men of sixty or youths under twenty. These had remained at home forthe winter threshing; the others, men in the prime of life, had gone toRossyeni.
When they saw the cavaliers of Orsha, they drew back from thewater-bucket and began to examine them. Their handsome soldierlyappearance pleased that warlike nobility; after a while, too, some onedropped the word,--
"Are they from Lyubich?"
"Yes, that is Pan Kmita's company!"
"Are these they?"
"Of course."
The cavaliers drank gorailka, but the punch had a stronger odor.Kokosinski caught it first, and ordered some. They sat around a tablethen; and when the steaming kettle was brought they began to drink,looking around the room at the men and blinking, for the place wasrather dark. The snow had blocked the windows; and the broad, lowopening of the chimney in which the fire was burning was hiddencompletely by certain figures with their backs to the crowd.
When the punch had begun to circulate in the veins of the cavaliers,bearing through their bodies an agreeable warmth, their cheerfulness,depressed by the reception at Vodokty, sprang up again; and all at onceZend fell to cawing like a crow, so perfectly that all faces wereturned toward him.
The cavaliers laughed, and the nobles, enlivened, began to approach,especially the young men,--powerful fellows with broad shoulders andplump cheeks. The figures sitting at the chimney turned their faces tothe room, and Rekuts was the first to see that they were women.
Zend closed his eyes and cawed, cawed. Suddenly he stopped, and in amoment those present heard the cry of a hare choked by a dog; the harecried in the last agony, weaker and lower, then screamed in despair,and was silent for the ages; in place of it was heard the deep bellowof a furious stag as loud as in spring-time.
The Butryms were astonished. Though Zend had stopped, they expected tohear something again; but they heard only the piping voice of Rekuts,--
"Those are titmice sitting near the chimney!"
"That is true!" replied Kokosinski, shading his eyes with his hand.
"As true as I live!" added Uhlik, "but it is so dark in the room that Icould not see them."
"I am curious. What are they doing?"
"Maybe they have come to dance."
"But wait; I will ask," said Kokosinski. And raising his voice, heasked, "My dear women, what are you doing there at the chimney?"
"We are warming our feet," answered thin voices.
Then the cavaliers rose and approached the hearth. There were sittingat it, on a long bench, about ten women, old and young, holding theirbare feet on a log lying by the fire. On the other side of the logtheir shoes wet from the snow were drying.
"So you are warming your feet?" asked Kokosinski.
"Yes, for they are cold."
"Very pretty feet," piped Rekuts, inclining toward the log.
"But keep at a distance," said one of the women.
"I prefer to come near. I have a sure method, better than fire, forcold feet; which is,--only dance with a will, and the cold flies away."
"If to dance, then dance," said Uhlik. "We want neither fiddles norbass-viols. I will play for you on the flageolet."
Taking from its leather case which hung near his sabre the ever-presentflageolet, he began to play; and the cavaliers, pushing forward withdancing movement to the maidens, sought to draw them from the benches.The maidens appeared to defend themselves, but more with their voicesthan their hands, for in truth they were not greatly opposed. Maybethe men, too, would have been willing in their turn; for againstdancing on Sunday after Mass and during the carnival no one wouldprotest greatly. But the reputation of the "company" was alreadytoo well known in Volmontovichi; therefore first the gigantic YuzvaButrym, he who had but one foot, rose from the bench, and approachingKulvyets-Hippocentaurus, caught him by the breast, held him, and saidwith sullen voice,--
"If your grace wants dancing, then dance with me."
Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus blinked, and began to move his mustachesconvulsively. "I prefer a girl," said he; "I can attend to youafterward."
Meanwhile Ranitski ran up with face already spotted, for he sniffed aquarrel. "Who are you, road-blocker?" asked he, grasping his sabre.
Uhlik stopped playing, and Kokosinski shouted, "Hei, comrades!together, together!"
But the Butryms were already behind Yuzva; sturdy old men and greatyouths began to assemble, growling like bears.
"What do you want? Are you looking for bruises?" asked Kokosinski.
"No talk! Be off out of here!" said Yuzva, stolidly.
Then Ranitski, whose interest it was that an hour should not passwithout a fight, struck Yuzva with the hilt of his sword in the breast,so that it was heard in the whole room, and cried, "Strike!"
Rapiers glittered; the scream of women was heard, the clatter ofsabres, uproar and disturbance. Then the gigantic Yuzva pushed out ofthe crowd, took a roughly hewn bench from beside a table, and raisingit as though it were a light strip of wood, shouted, "Make way! makeway!"
Dust rose from the floor and hid the combatants; but in the confusiongroans were soon heard.
The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 9