The little knight, as a soldier ever willing in the service of the Commonwealth, gave orders at once to his servants to drive the herds from the meadows, lade the camels, and be ready themselves in arms. Still, his heart was rent at thought of parting with his wife, for he loved her with the love of a husband and a father, and was hardly able to breathe without her; but he had no wish to take her to the wild and lonely deserts of Ushytsa and expose her to various perils. She, however, insisted on going with him.
"Think," said she, "whether it will be more dangerous for me to stay here than to live with you under the protection of troops. I do not wish another roof than your tent, since I married you to share fatigue, toil, and danger with you. Here alarm would gnaw me to death; but there, with such a soldier, I shall feel safer than the queen in Warsaw. Should it be needful to take the field with you, I shall take it. If you go alone, I shall not know sleep in this place; I shall not put food to my mouth; and finally, I shall not hold out, but fly as I am to Hreptyoff; and if you will not let me in, I will spend the night at the gate, and beg and cry till you take pity."
Pan Michael, seeing such affection, seized his wife by the arms and began to cover her rosy face with kisses, and she gave like for like. "I should not hesitate," said he, at last, "were it a question of standing on guard simply and attacking detachments of the horde. Really, there will be men enough, because one of the squadrons of the starosta of Podolia will go with me, and one of the chamberlain's squadrons; besides these, Motovidlo will come with Cossacks and the dragoons of Linkhauz. There will be about six hundred soldiers, and with camp-followers up to a thousand. But I fear this, which the braggarts at the Diet in Warsaw will not believe, but which we on the borders expect every hour,—namely, a great war with the whole power of Turkey. This Pan Myslishevski has confirmed, and the Pasha of Hotin repeats it every day; the hetman believes that the Sultan will not leave Doroshenko without succor, but will declare war against the Commonwealth; and then what should I do with you, my dearest flower, my reward from God's hand?"
"What happens to you will happen to me, I wish no other fate than the fate which comes to you."
Here Zagloba broke his silence, and turning to Basia, said, "If the Turks capture you, whether you wish it or not, your fate will be different from Michael's. Ha! After the Cossacks, the Swedes, the Northerners, and the Brandenburg kennel—the Turk! I said to Olshovski, the vice-chancellor, 'Do not bring Doroshenko to despair, for only from necessity did he turn to the Turk.' Well, and what? They would not listen to me. They sent Hanenko against Doroshenko, and now Doroshenko, willing or unwilling, must crawl into the throat of the Turk, and, besides, lead him against us. You remember, Michael, that I forewarned Olshovski in your presence."
"You must have forewarned him some other time, for I do not remember that it was in my presence," said the little knight, "But what you say of Doroshenko is holy truth, for the hetman holds the same views; they say even that he has letters from Doroshenko written in that sense precisely. But as matters are, so they are; it is enough that it is too late now to negotiate. You have quick wit, however, and I should like to hear your opinion. Am I to take Basia to Hreptyoff, or is it better to leave her here? I must add too that the place is a terrible desert. It was always a wretched spot, but during twenty years so many Cossack parties and so many chambuls have passed through it, that I know not whether I shall find two beams fastened together. There is a world of ravines there, grown over with thickets, hiding-places, deep caves, and every kind of secret den in which robbers hide themselves by hundreds, not to mention those who come from Wallachia."
"Robbers, in view of such a force, are a trifle," said Zagloba. "Chambuls too are a trifle; for if strong ones march up, there will be a noise about them; and if they are small, you will rub them out."
"Well, now!" cried Basia; "is not the whole matter a trifle? Robbers are a trifle; chambuls are a trifle. With such a force Michael will defend me from all the power of the Crimea."
"Do not interrupt me in deliberation," said Zagloba; "if you do, I'll decide against you."
Basia put both palms on her mouth quickly, and dropped her head on her shoulder, feigning to fear Zagloba terribly, and though he knew that the dear woman was jesting, still her action pleased him; therefore he put his old hand on her bright head and said, "Have no fear; I will comfort you in this matter."
Basia kissed his hand straightway, for in truth much depended on his advice, which was so infallible that no one was ever led astray by it; he thrust both hands behind his belt, and glancing quickly with his seeing eye now on one, now on the other, said suddenly, "But there is no posterity here, none at all; how is that?" Here he thrust out his under-lip.
"The will of God, nothing more," said Pan Michael, dropping his eyes.
"The will of God, nothing more," said Basia, dropping her eyes.
"And do you wish for posterity?"
To this the little knight answered: "I will tell you sincerely, I do not know what I would give for children, but sometimes I think the wish vain. As it is, the Lord Jesus has sent happiness, giving me this kitten,—or as you call her, this haiduk,—and besides has blessed me with fame and with substance. I do not dare to trouble Him for greater blessings. You see it has come to my head more than once that if all people had their wishes accomplished, there would be no difference between this earthly Commonwealth and the heavenly one, which alone can give perfect happiness. So I think to myself that if I do not wait here for one or two sons, they will not miss me up there, and will serve and win glory in the old fashion under the heavenly hetman, the holy archangel Michael, in expeditions against the foulness of hell, and will attain to high office."
Here, moved at his own words and at that thought, the pious Christian knight raised his eyes to heaven; but Zagloba listened to him with indifference, and did not cease to mutter sternly. At last he said,—
"See that you do not blaspheme. Your boast that you divine the intentions of Providence so well may be a sin for which you will hop around as peas do on a hot pan. The Lord God has a wider sleeve than the bishop of Cracow, but He does not like to have any one look in to see what He has prepared there for small people, and He does what He likes; but do you see to that which concerns you, and if you wish for posterity, keep your wife with you, instead of leaving her."
When Basia heard this, she sprang with delight to the middle of the room, and clapping her hands, began to repeat, "Well, now! we'll keep together. I guessed at once that your grace would come to my side; I guessed it at once. We'll go to Hreptyoff, Michael. Even once you'll take me against the Tartars,—one little time, my dear, my golden!"
"There she is for you! Now she wants to go to an attack!" cried the little knight.
"For with you I should not fear the whole horde."
"Silentium!" said Zagloba, turning his delighted eyes, or rather his delighted eye, on Basia, whom he loved immensely. "I hope too that Hreptyoff, which, by the way, is not so far from here, is not the last stanitsa before the Wilderness."
"No; there will be commands farther on, in Mohiloff and Yampol; and the last is to be in Rashkoff," answered Pan Michael.
"In Rashkoff? We know Rashkoff. It was from that place that we brought Helena, Pan Yan's wife; and you remember that ravine in Valadynka, Michael. You remember how I cut down that monster, or devil, Cheremis, who was guarding her. But since the last garrison will be in Rashkoff, if the Crimea moves, or the whole Turkish power, they will know quickly in Rashkoff, and will give timely notice to Hreptyoff; there is no great danger then, for the place cannot be surprised. I say this seriously; and you know, besides, that I would rather lay down my old head than expose her to any risk. Take her. It will be better for you both. But Basia must promise that in case of a great war she will let herself be taken even to Warsaw, for there would be terrible campaigns and fierce battles, besieging of camps, perhaps hunger, as at Zbaraj; in such straits it is hard for a man to save his life, but what could a woman do?"
"His grace, Pan Zagloba, will take you to Podlyasye to Pan Yan's wife," said the little knight; "there indeed the Turk will not reach you."
"Pan Zagloba! Pan Zagloba!" answered the old noble, mocking him. "Am I a captain of home guards? Do not intrust your wives to Pan Zagloba, thinking that he is old, for he may turn out altogether different. Secondly, do you think that in case of war with the Turk, I shall go behind the stove in Podlyasye, and watch the roast meat lest it burn? I may be good for something else. I mount my horse from a bench, I confess; but when once in the saddle, I will gallop on the enemy as well as any young man. Neither sand nor sawdust is sprinkling out of me yet, glory be to God! I shall not go on a raid against Tartars, nor watch in the Wilderness, for I am not a scout; but in a general attack keep near me, if you can, and you will see splendid things."
"Do you wish to take the field again?"
"Do you not think that I wish to seal a famous life with a glorious death, after so many years of service? And what better could happen to me? Did you know Pan Dzevyantkevich? He, it is true, did not seem more than a hundred and forty years old, but he was a hundred and forty-two, and was still in service."
"He was not so old."
"He was. May I never move from this bench if he wasn't! I am going to a great war, and that's the end of it! But now I am going with you to Hreptyoff, for I love Basia."
Basia sprang up with radiant face and began to hug Zagloba, and he raised his head higher and higher, repeating, "Tighter, tighter!"
Pan Michael pondered over everything for a time yet and said at last: "It is impossible for us all to go together, since the place is a pure wilderness, and we should not find a bit of roof over our heads. I will go first, choose a place for a square, build a good enclosure with houses for the soldiers, and sheds for the officers' horses, which, being of finer stock, might suffer from change of climate; I will dig wells, open the roads, and clear the ravines from robber ruffians. That done, I'll send you a proper escort, and you will come. You will wait, perhaps, three weeks here."
Basia wished to protest; but Zagloba, seeing the justice of Pan Michael's words, said, "What is wise, is wise! Basia, we will stay here together and keep house, and our affair will not be a bad one. We must also make ready good supplies in some fashion, for, of course, you do not know that meads and wines never keep so well as in caves."
CHAPTER XXIII.
Volodyovski kept his word; in three weeks he finished the buildings and sent a notable escort,—one hundred Lithuanian Tartars from the squadron of Pan Lantskoronski and one hundred of Linkhauz's dragoons, who were led by Pan Snitko, of the escutcheon Hidden Moon. The Tartars were led by Capt. Azya Mellehovich, who was descended from Lithuanian Tartars,—a very young man, for he had barely reached twenty and some years. He brought a letter which the little knight had written, as follows, to his wife:—
"Baska, beloved of my heart! You may come now, for without you it is as if without bread; and if I do not wither away before you are here, I shall kiss your rosy face off. I am not stingy in sending men and experienced officers; but give priority in all to Pan Snitko, and admit him to our society, for he is bene natus (well-born), an inheritor of land, and an officer. As to Mellehovich, he is a good soldier, but God knows who he is. He could not become an officer in any squadron but the Tartar, for it would be easier elsewhere for any man to fling low birth at him. I embrace you with all my strength; I kiss your hands and feet. I have built a fortalice with one hundred circular openings. We have immense chimneys. For you and me there are several rooms in a house apart. There is an odor of rosin everywhere, and such legions of crickets that when they begin to chirp in the evening the dogs start up from sleep. If we had a little pea-straw, they might be got rid of quickly; perhaps you will have some placed in the wagons. There was no glass to be had, so we put membrane in the windows; but Pan Byaloglovski has a glazier in his command among the dragoons. You can get glass in Kamenyets from the Armenians; but, for God's sake! let it be handled with care to avoid breaking. I have had your room fitted with rugs, and it has a respectable look. I have had the robbers whom we caught in the ravines hanged, nineteen of them; and before you come, the number will reach half three-score. Pan Snitko will tell you how we live. I commend you to God and the Most Holy Lady, my dear soul."
Basia, after reading the letter, gave it to Zagloba, who, when he had glanced over it, began at once to show more consideration to Pan Snitko,—not so great, however, that the other should not feel that he was speaking to a most renowned warrior and a great personage, who admitted him to confidence only through kindness. Moreover, Pan Snitko was a good-natured soldier, joyous and most accurate in service, for his life had passed in the ranks. He honored Volodyovski greatly, and in view of Zagloba's fame he felt small, and had no thought of exalting himself.
Mellehovich was not present at the reading of the letter, for when he had delivered it, he went out at once, as if to look after his men, but really from fear that they might command him to go to the servants' quarters.
Zagloba, however, had time to examine him; and having the words of Pan Michael fresh in his head, he said to Snitko, "We are glad to see you. I pray you. Pan Snitko, I know the escutcheon Hidden Moon,—a worthy escutcheon. But this Tartar, what is his name?"
"Mellehovich."
"But this Mellehovich looks somehow like a wolf. Michael writes that he is a man of uncertain origin, which is a wonder, for all our Tartars are nobles, though Mohammedans. In Lithuania I saw whole villages inhabited by them. There people call them Lipki; but those here are known as Cheremis. They have long served the Commonwealth faithfully in return for their bread; but during the time of the peasant incursion many of them went over to Hmelnitski, and now I hear that they are beginning to communicate with the horde. That Mellehovich looks like a wolf. Has Pan Volodyovski known him long?"
"Since the last expedition," said Pan Snitko, putting his feet under the table, "when we were acting with Pan Sobieski against Doroshenko and the horde; they went through the Ukraine."
"Since the last expedition! I could not take part in that, for Sobieski confided other functions to me, though later on he was lonely without me. But your escutcheon is the Hidden Moon! From what place is Mellehovich?"
"He says that he is a Lithuanian Tartar; but it is a wonder to me that none of the Lithuanian Tartars knew him before, though he serves in their squadron. From this come stories of his uncertain origin, which his lofty manners have not been able to prevent. But he is a good soldier, though sullen. At Bratslav and Kalnik he rendered great service, for which the hetman made him captain, though he was the youngest man in the squadron. The Tartars love him greatly, but he has no consideration among us, and why? Because he is very sullen, and, as you say, has the look of a wolf."
"If he is a great soldier and has shed blood," said Basia, "it is proper to admit him to our society, which my husband in his letter does not forbid." Here she turned to Pan Snitko: "Does your grace permit it?"
"I am the servant of my benefactress," said Snitko.
Basia vanished through the door; and Zagloba, drawing a deep breath, asked Pan Snitko, "Well, and how does the colonel's wife please you?"
The old soldier, instead of an answer, put his fists to his eyes, and bending in the chair, repeated, "Ai! ai! ai!" Then he stared, covered his mouth with his broad palm, and was silent, as if ashamed of his own enthusiasm.
"Sweet cakes, isn't she?" asked Zagloba.
Meanwhile "sweet cakes" appeared in the door, conducting Mellehovich, who was as frightened as a wild bird, and saying to him, "From my husband's letter and fro
m Pan Snitko we have heard so much of your manful deeds that we are glad to know you more intimately. We ask you to our society, and the table will be laid presently."
"I pray you to come nearer," said Zagloba.
The sullen but handsome face of the young Tartar did not brighten altogether, but it was evident that he was thankful for the good reception, and because he was not commanded to remain in the servants' quarters. Basia endeavored of purpose to be kind to him, for with a woman's heart she guessed easily that he was suspicious and proud, that the chagrin which beyond doubt he had to bear often by reason of his uncertain descent pained him acutely. Not making, therefore, between him and Snitko any difference save that enjoined by Snitko's riper age, she inquired of the young captain touching those services owing to which he had received promotion at Kalnik. Zagloba, divining Basia's wish, spoke to him also frequently enough; and he, though at first rather distant in bearing, gave fitting answers, and his manners not only did not betray a vulgar man, but were even astonishing through a certain courtliness.
"That cannot be peasant blood, for not such would the spirit be," thought Zagloba to himself. Then he inquired aloud, "In what parts does your father live?"
"In Lithuania," replied Mellehovich, blushing.
"Lithuania is a large country. That is the same as if you had said in the Commonwealth."
"It is not in the Commonwealth now, for those regions have fallen away. My father has an estate near Smolensk."
"I had considerable possessions there too, which came to me from childless relatives; but I chose to leave them and side with the Commonwealth."
"I act in the same way," said Mellehovich.
"You act honorably," put in Basia.
But Snitko, listening to the conversation, shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if to say, "God knows who you are, and whence you came."
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