Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey
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CHAPTER XLIII.
Basia suffered so violently for a week yet, that had it not been forthe assurance of the doctor both Pan Michael and Zagloba would haveadmitted that the flame of her life might expire at any moment. Only atthe end of that time did she become notably better; her consciousnessreturned fully, and though the doctor foresaw that she would lie in beda month, or a month and a half, still it was certain that she wouldreturn to perfect health, and gain her former strength.
Pan Michael during her illness went hardly one step from her pillow; heloved her after these perils still more, if possible, and did not seethe world beyond her. At times when he sat near her, when he looked onthat face, still thin and emaciated but joyous, and those eyes, intowhich the old fire was returning each day, he was beset by the wish tolaugh, to cry, and to shout from delight:--
"My only Basia is recovering; she is recovering!"
And he rushed at her hands, and sometimes he kissed those poor littlefeet which had waded so valiantly through the deep snows to Hreptyoff;in a word, he loved her and honored her beyond estimation. He feltwonderfully indebted to Providence, and on a certain time he said inpresence of Zagloba and the officers:--
"I am a poor man, but even were I to work off my arms to the elbows, Iwill find money for a little church, even a wooden one. And as often asthey ring the bells in it, I will remember the mercy of God, and thesoul will be melting within me from gratitude."
"God grant us first to pass through this Turkish war with success,"said Zagloba.
"The Lord knows best what pleases Him most," replied the little knight:"if He wishes for a church He will preserve me; and if He prefers myblood, I shall not spare it, as God is dear to me."
Basia with health regained her humor. Two weeks later she gave commandto open the door of her chamber a little one evening; and when theofficers had assembled in the room, she called out with her silveryvoice:--
"Good-evening, gentlemen! I shall not die this time, aha!"
"Thanks to the Most High God!" answered the officers, in chorus.
"Glory be to God, dear child!" exclaimed Pan Motovidlo, who loved Basiaparticularly with a fatherly affection, and who in moments of greatemotion spoke always in Russian.[28]
"See, gentlemen," continued Basia, "what has happened! Who could havehoped for this? Lucky that it ended so."
"God watched over innocence," called the chorus again through the door.
"But Pan Zagloba laughed at me more than once, because I have more lovefor the sabre than the distaff. Well, a distaff or a needle would havehelped me greatly! But didn't I act like a cavalier, didn't I?"
"An angel could not have done better!"
Zagloba interrupted the conversation by closing the door of thechamber, for he feared too much excitement for Basia. But she was angryas a cat at the old man, for she had a wish for further conversation,and especially to hear more praises of her bravery and valor. Whendanger had passed, and was merely a reminiscence, she was very proud ofher action against Azya, and demanded praise absolutely. More than onceshe turned to the little knight, and pushing his breast with her fingersaid, with the mien of a spoiled child,--
"Praise for the bravery!"
And he, the obedient, praised her and fondled her, and kissed her onthe eyes and on the hands, till Zagloba, though he was greatly affectedhimself in reality, pretended to be scandalized, and muttered,--
"Ah, everything will be as lax as grandfather's whip."
The general rejoicing in Hreptyoff over Basia's recovery was troubledonly by the remembrance of the injury which Azya's treason had wroughtin the Commonwealth, and the terrible fate of old Pan Novoveski, ofPani and Panna Boski, and of Eva. Basia was troubled no little by this,and with her every one; for the events at Rashkoff were known indetail, not only in Hreptyoff, but in Kamenyets and farther on. A fewdays before, Pan Myslishevski had stopped in Hreptyoff; notwithstandingthe treason of Azya, Krychinski, and Adurovich, he did not lose hope ofattracting to the Polish side the other captains. After PanMyslishevski came Pan Bogush, and later, news directly from Mohiloff,Yampol, and Rashkoff itself.
In Mohiloff, Pan Gorzenski, evidently a better soldier than orator, didnot let himself be deceived. Intercepting Azya's orders to the Tartarswhom he left behind, Pan Gorzenski fell upon them, with a handful ofMazovian infantry, and cut them down or took them prisoners; besides,he sent a warning to Yampol, through which that place was saved. Thetroops returned soon after. So Rashkoff was the only victim. PanMichael received a letter from Pan Byaloglovski himself, giving areport of events there and other affairs relating to the wholeCommonwealth.
"It is well that I returned," wrote Pan Byaloglovski, among otherthings, "for Novoveski, my second, is not in a state now to do duty. Heis more like a skeleton than a man, and we shall be sure to lose agreat cavalier, for suffering has crushed him beyond the measure of hisstrength. His father is slain; his sister, in the last degree of shame,given to Adurovich by Azya, who took Panna Boski for himself. Nothingcan be done for them, even should there be success in rescuing themfrom captivity. We know this from a Tartar who sprained his shoulder incrossing the river; taken prisoner by our men, he was put on the fire,and divulged everything. Azya, Krychinski, and Adurovich have gone toAdrianople. Novoveski is struggling to follow without fail, saying thathe must take Azya, even from the centre of the Sultan's camp, and havevengeance. He was always obstinate and daring, and there is no reasonnow to wonder at him, since it is a question of Panna Boski, whose evilfate we all bewail with tears, for she was a sweet maiden, and I do notknow the man whose heart she did not win. But I restrain Novoveski, andtell him that Azya himself will come to him; for war is certain, andthis also, that the hordes will move in the vanguard. We have news fromMoldavia from the perkulabs, and from Turkish merchants as well, thattroops are assembling already near Adrianople,--a great many of thehorde. The Turkish cavalry, which they call 'spahis,' are musteringtoo; and the Sultan himself is to come with the janissaries. Mybenefactor, there will be untold myriads of them; for the whole Orientis in movement, and we have only a handful of troops. Our whole hope isin the rock of Kamenyets, which, God grant, is provisioned properly. InAdrianople it is spring; and with us almost spring, for tremendousrains are falling and grass is appearing. I am going to Yampol; forRashkoff is only a heap of ashes, and there is no place to inclineone's head, or anything to put into the mouth. Besides, I think that weshall be withdrawn from all the forts."
The little knight had information of equal and even greater certainty,since it came from Hotin. He had sent it too a short time before to thehetman. Still, Byaloglovski's letter, coming from the remotestboundary, made a powerful impression on him, precisely because itconfirmed that intelligence. But the little knight had no fearstouching war, his fears were for Basia.
"The order of the hetman to withdraw the garrisons may come any day,"said he to Zagloba; "and service is service. It will be necessary tomove without delay; but Basia is in bed yet, and the weather is bad."
"If ten orders were to come," said Zagloba, "Basia is the mainquestion; we will stay here until she recovers completely. Besides, thewar will not begin before the end of the thaws, much less before theend of winter, especially as they will bring heavy artillery againstKamenyets."
"That old volunteer is always sitting within you," replied the littleknight, with impatience; "you think an order may be delayed for privatematters."
"Well, if an order is dearer to you than Basia, pack her into a wagonand march. I know, I know, you are ready at command to put her in withforks, if it appears that she is unable to sit in the wagon with herown strength. May the hangman take you with such discipline! In oldtimes a man did what he could, and what he couldn't he didn't do. Youhave kindness on your lips, but just let them cry, 'Haida on the Turk!'then you'll spit out your kindness as you would a peachstone, and youwill take that unfortunate woman on horseback with a lariat."
"I without pity for Basia! Fear the wounds of the C
rucified!" cried thelittle knight.
Zagloba puffed angrily for a time, then looking at the suffering faceof Pan Michael, he said,--
"Michael, you know that I say what I say out of love really parentalfor Basia. Otherwise would I be sitting here under the Turkish axe,instead of enjoying leisure in a safe place, which at my years no mancould take ill of me? But who got Basia for you? If it shall be seenthat it was not I, then command me to drink a vat of water without athing to give taste to it."
"I could not repay you in a lifetime for Basia!" cried the littleknight.
Then they took each other by the shoulders, and the best harmony beganbetween them.
"I have planned," said the little knight, "that when war comes, youwill take Basia to Pan Yan's place. Chambuls do not go that far."
"I will do so for you, though it would delight me to go against theTurk; for nothing disgusts me like that swinish nation which does notdrink wine."
"I fear only one thing: Basia will try to be at Kamenyets, so as to benear me. My skin creeps at thought of this; but as God is God she willtry."
"Do not let her try. Has little evil come already, because you indulgeher in everything, and let her go on that expedition to Rashkoff,though I cried out against it immediately?"
"But that is not true! You said that you would not advise."
"When I say that I will not advise a thing, that is worse than if I hadspoken against it."
"Basia ought to be wise now, but she will not. When she sees the swordover my head she will resist."
"Do not let her resist, I repeat. For God's sake, what sort of a strawhusband are you?"
"I confess that when she puts her fists in her eyes and begins to cry,or just let her pretend to cry, the heart in me is like butter on afrying-pan. It must be that she has given me some herb. As to sendingher, I will send her, for her safety is dearer to me than my own life;but when I think that I must torture her so the breath stops in me frompity."
"Michael, have God in your heart! Don't be led by the nose!"
"Bah! don't be led yourself. Who, if not you, said that I have no pityfor her?"
"What's that?" asked Zagloba.
"You do not lack ingenuity, but now you are scratching behind your earyourself."
"Because I'm thinking what better argument to use."
"But if she puts her fists in her eyes at once?"
"She will, as God is dear to me!" said Zagloba, with evident alarm.
And they were perplexed, for, to tell the truth, Basia had measuredboth perfectly. They had petted her to the last degree in her sickness,and loved her so much that the necessity of opposing her wish anddesire filled them with fear. That Basia would not resist, and wouldyield with submission to the decree, both knew well; but not to mentionPan Michael, it would have been pleasanter for Zagloba to rush himselfthe third man on a whole regiment of janissaries, than to see herputting her little fists into her eyes.