CHAPTER XX.
Pan Makovetski, with his wife and Zagloba, saw Pan Michael riding away,and alarm seized all hearts; therefore they asked one another withtheir eyes, "What has happened; where is he going?"
"Great God!" cried Pani Makovetski; "he will go to the Wilderness, andwe shall never see him again in life!"
"Or to the cloister, like that crazy woman," said Zagloba, in despair.
"Counsel is necessary here," said Makovetski.
With that the door opened and Basia burst into the room like awhirlwind, excited, pale, with fingers in both her eyes; stamping inthe middle of the floor, like a little child, she began to scream,"Rescue! save! Pan Michael has gone to kill Ketling! Whoso believes inGod, let him fly to stop him! Rescue! rescue!"
"What is the matter, girl?" cried Zagloba, seizing her hands.
"Rescue! Pan Michael will kill Ketling! Through me blood will be shed,and Krysia will die, all through me!"
"Speak!" cried Zagloba, shaking her. "How do you know? Why is itthrough you?"
"Because I told him in anger that they love each other; that Krysia isgoing behind the grating for Ketling's sake. Whoso believes in God,stop them! Go quickly; go all of you! Let us all go!"
Zagloba, not wont to lose time in such cases, rushed to the yard andgave command to bring the carriage out at once. Pani Makovetski wishedto ask Basia about the astonishing news, for up to that moment she hadnot suspected the love between Krysia and Ketling; but Basia rushedafter Zagloba to look to the harnessing of the horses. She helped tolead out the beasts and attach them to the carriage; at last, thoughbareheaded, she mounted the driver's seat before the entrance, wheretwo men were waiting and already dressed for the road.
"Come down!" said Zagloba to her.
"I will not come down! Take your seats; you must take your seats; ifnot, I will go alone!" So saying, she took the reins, and they, seeingthat the stubbornness of the girl might cause a considerable delay,ceased to ask her to come down.
Meanwhile the servant ran up with a whip: and Pani Makovetski succeededin bringing out a shuba and cap to Basia, for the day was cold. Thenthey moved on. Basia remained on the driver's seat. Zagloba, wishing tospeak with her, asked her to sit on the front seat; but she wasunwilling, it may be through fear of being scolded. Zagloba thereforehad to inquire from a distance, and she answered without turning herhead.
"How do you know," asked he, "that which you told your uncle aboutthose two?"
"I know all."
"Did Krysia tell you?"
"Krysia told me nothing."
"Then maybe the Scot did?"
"No, but I know; and that is why he is going to England. He fooledeverybody but me."
"A wonderful thing!" said Zagloba.
"This is your work," said Basia; "you should not have pushed themagainst each other."
"Sit there in quiet, and do not thrust yourself into what does notbelong to you," answered Zagloba, who was struck to the quick becausethis reproach was made in presence of Makovetski. Therefore he addedafter a while, "I push anybody! I advise! Look at that! I like suchsuppositions."
"Ah, ha! do you think you did not?" retorted the maiden.
They went forward in silence. Still, Zagloba could not free himselffrom the thought that Basia was right, and that he was in great partthe cause of all that had happened. That thought grieved him not alittle; and since the carriage jolted unmercifully, the old noble fellinto the worst humor and did not spare himself reproaches.
"It would be the proper thing," thought he, "for Michael and Ketling tocut off my ears in company. To make a man marry against his will is thesame as to command him to ride with his face to a horse's tail. Thatfly is right! If those men have a duel, Ketling's blood will be on me.What kind of business have I begun in my old age! Tfu, to the Devil!Besides, they almost fooled me, for I barely guessed why Ketling wasgoing beyond the sea--and that daw to the cloister; meanwhile thehaiduk had long before found out everything, as it seems." Here Zaglobameditated a little, and after a while muttered, "A rogue, not a maiden!Michael borrowed eyes from a crawfish to put aside such as she for thatdoll!"
Meanwhile they had arrived at the city; but there their troubles beganreally. None of them knew where Ketling was lodging, or where PanMichael might go; to look for either was like looking for a particularpoppy-seed in a bushel of poppy-seeds. They went first to the grandhetman's. People told them there that Ketling was to start that morningon a journey beyond the sea. Pan Michael had come, inquired about theScot, but whither the little knight had gone, no one knew. It wassupposed that he might have gone to the squadron stationed in the fieldbehind the city.
Zagloba commanded to return to the camp; but there it was impossible tofind an informant. They went to every inn on Dluga Street; they went toPraga; all was in vain. Meanwhile night fell; and since an inn was notto be thought of, they were forced to go home. They went back intribulation. Basia cried some; the pious Makovetski repeated a prayer;Zagloba was really alarmed. He tried, however, to cheer himself and thecompany.
"Ha!" said he, "we are distressed, and perhaps Michael is already athome."
"Or killed!" said Basia. And she began to wail there in the carriage,repeating, "Cut out my tongue! It was my fault, my fault! Oh, I shallgo mad!"
"Quiet there, girl! the fault is not yours," said Zagloba; "and knowthis,--if any man is killed, it is not Michael."
"But I am sorry for the other. We have paid him handsomely for hishospitality; there is nothing to be said on that point. O God, O God!"
"That is the truth!" added Pan Makovetski.
"Let that rest, for God's sake! Ketling is surely nearer to Prussiathan to Warsaw by this time. You heard that he is going away; I havehope in God too, that should he meet Volodyovski they will remember oldfriendship, service rendered together. They rode stirrup to stirrup;they slept on one saddle; they went together on scouting expeditions;they dipped their hands in one blood. In the whole army theirfriendship was so famous that Ketling, by reason of his beauty, wascalled Volodyovski's wife. It is impossible that this should not cometo their minds when they see each other."
"Still, it is this way sometimes," said the discreet Makovetski, "thatjust the warmest friendship turns to the fiercest animosity. So it wasin our place when Pan Deyma killed Pan Ubysh, with whom he had livedtwenty years in the greatest agreement. I can describe to you thatunhappy event in detail."
"If my mind were more at ease, I would listen to you as gladly as I doto her grace, my benefactress, your grace's spouse, who has the habitalso of giving details, not excepting genealogies; but what you say offriendship and animosity has stuck in my head. God forbid! God forbidthat it should come true this time!"
"One was Pan Deyma, the other Pan Ubysh. Both worthy men andfellow-soldiers--"
"Oi, oi, oi!" said Zagloba, gloomily. "We trust in the mercy of Godthat it will not come true this time; but if it does, Ketling will bethe corpse."
"Misfortune!" said Makovetski, after a moment of silence. "Yes, yes!Deyma and Ubysh. I remember it as if to-day. And it was a question alsoof a woman."
"Eternally those women! The first daw that comes will brew such beerfor you that whoever drinks will not digest it," muttered Zagloba.
"Don't attack Krysia, sir!" cried Basia, suddenly.
"Oh, if Pan Michael had only fallen in love with you, none of thiswould have happened!"
Thus conversing, they reached the house. Their hearts beat on seeinglights in the windows, for they thought that Pan Michael had returned,perhaps. But Pani Makovetski alone received them; she was alarmed andgreatly concerned. On learning that all their searching had resulted innothing, she covered herself with bitter tears and began to complainthat she should never see her brother again. Basia seconded her at oncein these lamentations. Zagloba too was unable to master his grief.
"I will go again to-morrow before daylight, but alone," said he; "I maybe able to learn something."
"We can search better
in company," put in Makovetski.
"No; let your grace remain with the ladies. If Ketling is alive, I willlet you know."
"For God's sake! We are living in the house of that man!" saidMakovetski. "We must find an inn somehow to-morrow, or even pitch tentsin the field, only not to live longer here."
"Wait for news from me, or we shall lose each other," said Zagloba. "IfKetling is killed--"
"Speak more quietly, by Christ's wounds!" said Pani Makovetski, "forthe servants will hear and tell Krysia; she is barely alive as it is."
"I will go to her," said Basia.
And she sprang upstairs. Those below remained in anxiety and fear. Noone slept in the whole house. The thought that maybe Ketling wasalready a corpse filled their hearts with terror. In addition, thenight became close, dark; thunder began to roar and roll through theheavens; and later bright lightning rent the sky each moment. Aboutmidnight the first storm of the spring began to rage over the earth.Even the servants woke.
Krysia and Basia went from their chamber to the dining-room. There thewhole company prayed and sat in silence, repeating in chorus, aftereach clap of thunder, "And the Word was made flesh!" In the whistlingof the whirlwind was heard at times, as it were, a certain horse-tramp,and then fear and terror raised the hair on the heads of Basia, PaniMakovetski, and the two men; for it seemed to them that at any momentthe door might open, and Pan Michael enter, stained with Ketling'sblood. The usually mild Pan Michael, for the first time in his life,oppressed people's hearts like a stone, so that the very thought of himfilled them with dread.
However, the night passed without news of the little knight. Atdaylight, when the storm had abated in a measure, Zagloba set out asecond time for the city. That whole day was a day of still greateralarm. Basia sat till evening in the window in front of the gate,looking at the road along which Pan Zagloba might return.
Meanwhile the servants, at command of Pan Makovetski, were packing thetrunks slowly for the road. Krysia was occupied in directing this work,for thus she was able to hold herself at a distance from the others.For though Pani Makovetski did not mention Pan Michael in the younglady's presence even by one word, still that very silence convincedKrysia that Pan Michael's love for her, their former secret engagement,and her recent refusal had been discovered; and in view of this, it wasdifficult to suppose that those people, the nearest to Pan Michael,were not offended and grieved. Poor Krysia felt that it must be so,that it was so,--that those hearts, hitherto loving, had withdrawn fromher; therefore she wished to suffer by herself.
Toward evening the trunks were ready, so that it was possible to movethat very day; but Pan Makovetski was waiting yet for news fromZagloba. Supper was brought; no one cared to eat it; and the eveningbegan to drag along heavily, insupportably, and as silent as if allwere listening to what the clock was whispering.
"Let us go to the drawing-room," said Pan Makovetski, at last. "It isimpossible to stay here."
They went and sat down; but before any one had been able to speak thefirst word, the dogs were heard under the window.
"Some one is coming!" cried Basia.
"The dogs are barking as if at people of the house," said PaniMakovetski.
"Quiet!" said her husband. "There is a rattling of wheels!"
"Quiet!" repeated Basia. "Yes; it comes nearer every moment. That isPan Zagloba."
Basia and Pan Makovetski sprang up and ran out. Pani Makovetski's heartbegan to throb; but she remained with Krysia, so as not to show bygreat haste that Pan Zagloba was bringing news of exceeding importance.Meanwhile the sound of wheels was heard right under the window, andthen stopped on a sudden. Voices were heard at the entrance, and aftera while Basia rushed into the room like a hurricane, and with a face aschanged as if she had seen an apparition.
"Basia, who is that? Who is that?" asked Pani Makovetski, withastonishment.
But before Basia could regain her breath and give answer, the dooropened; through it entered first Pan Makovetski, then Pan Michael, andlast Ketling.
Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey Page 21