“Everywhere people are coming to their senses, everywhere good news,” said the king. “Praise to the Most Holy Lady! This is the happiest day of my life, and a second such will come only when the last soldier of the enemy leaves the boundary of the Commonwealth.”
At this Pan Domashevski struck his sword. “May God not grant that to happen!” said he.
“How is that?” asked the king, with astonishment.
“That the last wide-breeches should leave the boundaries of the Commonwealth on his own feet? Impossible, Gracious Lord! What have we sabres at our sides for?”
“Oh!” said the king, made glad, “that is bravery.”
But Pan Slujevski, not wishing to remain behind Domashevski, said: “As true as life we will not agree to that, and first I will place a veto on it. We shall not be content with their retreat; we will follow them!”
The primate shook his head, and smiled kindly. “Oh, the nobles are on horseback, and they will ride on and on! But not too fast, not too fast! The enemy are still within the boundaries.”
“Their time is short!” cried both confederates.
“The spirit has changed, and fortune will change,” said Father Gembitski, in a weak voice.
“Wine!” cried the king. “Let me drink to the change, with the confederates.”
They brought wine; but with the servants who brought the wine entered an old attendant of the king, who said,—
“Gracious Lord, Pan Kryshtoporski has come from Chenstohova, and wishes to do homage to your Royal Grace.”
“Bring him here quickly!” cried the king.
In a moment a tall, thin noble entered, with a frowning look. He bowed before the king to his feet, then rather haughtily to the dignitaries, and said,—
“May the Lord Jesus Christ be praised!”
“For the ages of ages!” answered the king. “What is to be heard from the monastery?”
“Terrible frost. Gracious Lord, so that the eyelids are frozen to the eyeballs.”
“But for God’s sake! tell us of the Swedes and not of the frost!” cried the king.
“But what can I say of them, Gracious Lord, when there are none at Chenstohova?” asked he, humorously.
“Those tidings have come to us,” replied the king, “but only from the talk of people, and you have come from the cloister itself. Are you an eyewitness?”
“I am. Gracious Lord, a partner in the defence and an eyewitness of the miracles of the Most Holy Lady.”
“That was not the end of Her grace,” said the king, raising his eyes to heaven, “but let us earn them further.”
“I have seen much in my life,” continued the noble; “but such evident miracles I have not seen, touching which the prior Kordetski writes in detail in this letter.”
Yan Kazimir seized hastily the letter handed him by the noble, and began to read. At times he interrupted the reading to pray, then again turned to the letter. His face changed with joyful feelings; at last he raised his eyes to the noble.
“Father Kordetski writes me,” said he, “that you have lost a great cavalier, a certain Babinich, who blew up the Swedish siege gun with powder?”
“He sacrificed himself for all. But some say he is alive, and God knows what they have said; not being certain, we have not ceased to mourn him, for without his gallant deed it would have been hard for us to defend ourselves.”
“If that is true, then cease to mourn him. Pan Babinich is alive, and here with us. He was the first to inform us that the Swedes, not being able to do anything against the power of God, were thinking of retreat. And later he rendered such famous service that we know not ourselves how to pay him.”
“Oh, that will comfort the prior!” cried the noble, with gladness; “but if Pan Babinich is alive, it is only because he has the special favor of the Most Holy Lady. How that will comfort Father Kordetski! A father could not love a son as he loved him. And your Royal Grace will permit me to greet Pan Babinich, for there is not a second man of such daring in the Commonwealth.”
But the king began again to read, and after a while cried,—
“What do I hear? After retreating they tried once again to steal on the cloister?”
“When Miller went away, he did not show himself again; but Count Veyhard appeared unexpectedly at the walls, trusting, it seems, to find the gates open. He did, but the peasants fell on him with such rage that he retreated shamefully. While the world is a world, simple peasants have never fought so in the open field against cavalry. Then Pan Pyotr Charnyetski and Pan Kulesha came up and cut him to pieces.”
The king turned to the senators.
“See how poor ploughmen stand up in defence of this country and the holy faith.”
“That they stand up, Gracious King, is true,” cried the noble. “Whole villages near Chenstohova are empty, for the peasants are in the field with their scythes. There is a fierce war everywhere; the Swedes are forced to keep together in numbers, and if the peasants catch one of them they treat him so that it would be better for him to go straight to hell. Who is not taking up arms now in the Commonwealth? It was not for the dog-brothers to attack Chenstohova. From that hour they could not remain in this country.”
“From this hour no man will suffer oppression in this land who resists now with his blood,” said the king, with solemnity; “so help me God and the holy cross!”
“Amen!” added the primate.
Now the noble struck his forehead with his hand. “The frost has disturbed my mind, Gracious Lord, for I forgot to tell one thing, that such a son, the voevoda of Poznan, is dead. He died, they say, suddenly.”
Here the noble was somewhat ashamed, seeing that he had called a great senator “that such a son” in presence of the king and dignitaries; therefore he added, confused,—
“I did not wish to belittle an honorable station, but a traitor.”
But no one had noticed that clearly, for all looked at the king, who said,—
“We have long predestined Pan Yan Leshchynski to be voevoda of Poznan, even during the life of Pan Opalinski. Let him fill that office more worthily. The judgment of God, I see, has begun upon those who brought this country to its decline, for at this moment, perhaps, the voevoda of Vilna is giving an account of his deeds before the Supreme Judge.” Here he turned to the bishops and senators,—
“But it is time for us to think of a general war, and I wish to have the opinion of all of you, gentlemen, on this question.”
CHAPTER XIV.
At the moment when the king was saying that the voevoda of Vilna was standing, perhaps, before the judgment of God, he spoke as it were with a prophetic spirit, for at that hour the affair of Tykotsin was decided.
On December 25 Sapyeha was so sure of capturing Tykotsin that he went himself to Tyshovtsi, leaving the further conduct of the siege to Pan Oskyerko. He gave command to wait for the final storm till his return, which was to follow quickly; assembling, therefore, his more prominent officers, he said,—
“Reports have come to me that among the officers there is a plan to bear apart on sabres the voevoda of Vilna immediately after capturing the castle. Now if the castle, as may happen, should surrender during my absence, I inform you, gentlemen, that I prohibit most strictly an attack on Radzivill’s life. I receive letters, it is true, from persons of whom you gentlemen do not even dream, not to let him live when I take him. But I do not choose to obey these commands; and this I do not from any compassion, for the traitor is not worthy of that, but because I have no right over his life, and I prefer to bring him before the Diet, so that posterity may have in this case an example that no greatness of family, no office can cover such offence, nor protect him from public punishment.”
In this sense spoke the voevoda of Vityebsk, but more minutely, for his honesty was equalled by this weakness: he esteemed himself an orator, and loved on every occ
asion to speak copiously, and listened with delight to his own words, adding to them the most beautiful sentences from the ancients.
“Then I must steep my right hand well in water,” answered Zagloba, “for it itches terribly. But I only say this, that if Radzivill had me in his hands, surely he would not spare my head till sunset. He knows well who in great part made his troops leave him; he knows well who embroiled him with the Swedes. But even if he does, I know not why I should be more indulgent to Radzivill than Radzivill to me.”
“Because the command is not in your hands and you must obey,” said Sapyeha, with dignity.
“That I must obey is true, but it is well at times also to obey Zagloba. I say this boldly, because if Radzivill had listened to me when I urged him to defend the country, he would not be in Tykotsin to-day, but in the field at the head of all the troops of Lithuania.”
“Does it seem to you that the baton is in bad hands?”
“It would not become me to say that, for I placed it in those hands. Our gracious lord, Yan Kazimir, has only to confirm my choice, nothing more.”
The voevoda smiled at this, for he loved Zagloba and his jokes.
“Lord brother,” said he, “you crushed Radzivill, you made me hetman, and all this is your merit. Permit me now to go in peace to Tyshovtsi, so that Sapyeha too may serve the country in something.”
Zagloba put his hands on his hips, thought awhile as if he were considering whether he ought to permit or not; at last his eye gleamed, he nodded, and said with importance,—
“Go, your grace, in peace.”
“God reward you for the permission!” answered the voevoda, with a laugh.
Other officers seconded the voevoda’s laugh. He was preparing to start, for the carriage was under the window; he took farewell of all, therefore, giving each instructions what to do during his absence; then approaching Volodyovski, he said,—
“If the castle surrenders you will answer to me for the life of the voevoda.”
“According to order! a hair will not fall from his head,” said the little knight.
“Pan Michael,” said Zagloba to him, after the departure of the voevoda, “I am curious to know what persons are urging our Sapyo[2] not to let Radzivill live when he captures him.”
“How should I know?” answered the little knight.
“If you say that what another mouth does not whisper to your ear your own will not suggest, you tell the truth! But they must be some considerable persons, since they are able to command the voevoda.”
“Maybe it is the king himself.”
“The king? If a dog bit the king he would forgive him that minute, and give him cheese in addition. Such is his heart.”
“I will not dispute about that; but still, do they not say that he is greatly incensed at Radzivill?”
“First, any man will succeed in being angry,—for example, my anger at Radzivill; secondly, how could he be incensed at Radzeyovski when he took his sons in guardianship, because the father was not better? That is a golden heart, and I think it is the queen who is making requests against the life of Radzivill. She is a worthy lady, not a word against that, but she has a woman’s mind; and know that if a woman is enraged at you, even should you hide in a crack of the floor, she will pick you out with a pin.”
Volodyovski sighed at this, and said,—
“Why should any woman be angry with me, since I have never made trouble for one in my life?”
“Ah, but you would have been glad to do so. Therefore, though you serve in the cavalry, you rush on so wildly against the walls of Tykotsin with infantry, for you think not only is Radzivill there, but Panna Billevich. I know you, you rogue! Is it not true? You have not driven her out of your head yet.”
“There was a time when I had put her thoroughly out of my head; and Kmita himself, if now here, would be forced to confess that my action was knightly, not wishing to act against people in love. I chose to forget my rebuff, but I will not hide this: if Panna Billevich is now in Tykotsin, and if God permits me a second time to save her from trouble, I shall see in that the expressed will of Providence. I need take no thought of Kmita, I owe him nothing; and the hope is alive in me that if he left her of his own will she must have forgotten him, and such a thing will not happen now as happened to me the first time.”
Conversing in this way, they reached their quarters, where they found Pan Yan and Pan Stanislav, Roh Kovalski and the lord tenant of Vansosh, Jendzian.
The cause of Sapyeha’s trip to Tyshovtsi was no secret, hence all the knights were pleased that so honorable a confederacy would rise in defence of the faith and the country.
“Another wind is blowing now in the whole Commonwealth,” said Pan Stanislav, “and, thanks be to God, in the eyes of the Swedes.”
“It began from Chenstohova,” answered Pan Yan. “There was news yesterday that the cloister holds out yet, and repulses more and more powerful assaults. Permit not, Most Holy Mother, the enemy to put Thy dwelling-place to shame.”
Here Jendzian sighed and said: “Besides the holy images how much precious treasure would go into enemies’ hands; when a man thinks of that, food refuses to pass his throat!”
“The troops are just tearing away to the assault; we can hardly hold them back,” said Pan Michael. “Yesterday Stankyevich’s squadron moved without orders and without ladders, for they said, ‘When we finish this traitor, we will go to relieve Chenstohova;’ and when any man mentions Chenstohova all grit their teeth and shake their sabres.”
“Why have we so many squadrons here when one half would be enough for Tykotsin?” asked Zagloba. “It is the stubbornness of Sapyeha, nothing more. He does not wish to obey me; he wants to show that without my counsel he can do something. As you see yourselves, how are so many men to invest one paltry castle? They merely hinder one another, for there is not room for them all.”
“Military experience speaks through you,—it is impossible!” answered Pan Stanislav.
“Well, I have a head on my shoulders.”
“Uncle has a head on his shoulders!” cried Pan Roh, suddenly; and straightening his mustaches, he began to look around on all present as if seeking some one to contradict him.
“But the voevoda too has a head,” answered Pan Yan; “and if so many squadrons are here, there is danger that Prince Boguslav might come to the relief of his cousin.”
“Then send a couple of light squadrons to ravage Electoral Prussia,” said Zagloba; “and summon volunteers there from among common people. I myself would be the first man to go to try Prussian beer.”
“Beer is not good in winter, unless warmed,” remarked Pan Michael.
“Then give us wine, or gorailka, or mead,” said Zagloba.
Others also exhibited a willingness to drink; therefore the lord tenant of Vansosh occupied himself with that business, and soon a number of decanters were on the table. Hearts were glad at this sight, and the knights began to drink to one another, raising their goblets each time for a new health.
“Destruction to the Swedes, may they not skin our bread very long!” said Zagloba. “Let them devour their pine cones in Sweden.”
“To the health of his Royal Grace and the Queen!” said Pan Yan.
“And to loyal men!” said Volodyovski.
“Then to our own healths!”
“To the health of Uncle!” thundered Kovalski.
“God reward! Into your hands! and empty though your lips to the bottom. Zagloba is not yet entirely old! Worthy gentlemen! may we smoke this badger out of his hole with all haste, and move then to Chenstohova.”
“To Chenstohova!” shouted Kovalski. “To the rescue of the Most Holy Lady.”
“To Chenstohova!” cried all.
“To defend the treasures of Yasna Gora from the Pagans!” added Jendzian.
“Who pretend that they believe in the Lo
rd Jesus, wishing to hide their wickedness; but in fact they only howl at the moon like dogs, and in this is all their religion.”
“And such as these raise their hands against the splendors of Yasna Gora!”
“You have touched the spot in speaking of their faith,” said Volodyovski to Zagloba, “for I myself have heard how they howl at the moon. They said afterward that they were singing Lutheran psalms; but it is certain that the dogs sing such psalms.”
“How is that?” asked Kovalski. “Are there such people among them?”
The Deluge- Volume 2 Page 25