Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey

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Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey Page 53

by Henryk Sienkiewicz


  CHAPTER LII.

  That day Pan Michael went out with squadrons to assist Pan Vasilkovski,who had hastened on toward Hrynchuk, for news came that the Tartars hadmade an attack there, binding people, taking cattle, but not burningvillages, so as not to rouse attention. Pan Vasilkovski soon scatteredthem, rescued the captives, and took prisoners. Pan Michael led theseprisoners to Jvanyets, commissioning Pan Makovetski to torture them,and write down in order their confessions, so as to forward them to thehetman and the king. The Tartars confessed that, at command of theperkulab, they had crossed the boundary with Captain Styngan andWallachians; but though burnt, they could not tell how far away theSultan was at that time with all his forces, for, advancing inirregular bands, they did not maintain connection with the main army.

  All, however, were at one in the statement that the Sultan had moved inforce, that he was marching to the Commonwealth, and would be atKamenyets soon. For the future defenders of Kamenyets there was nothingnew in these confessions; but since in the king's palace they did notbelieve that there would be war, the chamberlain determined to sendthese prisoners, together with their statements, to Warsaw.

  The scouting parties returned in good spirits from their firstexpedition. In the evening came the secretary of Habareskul, PanMichael's Tartar brother, and the senior perkulab of Hotin. He broughtno letters, for the perkulab was afraid to write; but he gave commandto tell his brother Volodyovski, "the sight of his eye and the love ofhis heart," to be on his guard, and if Kamenyets had not troops enoughfor defence, to leave the town under some pretext, for the Sultan hadbeen expected for two days with his whole force in Hotin.

  Pan Michael sent his thanks to the perkulab, and rewarding thesecretary, sent him home; he informed the commandants immediately ofthe approaching danger. Activity on works in the town was redoubled;Pan Hieronim Lantskoronski moved without a moment's delay to hisJvanyets, to have an eye on Hotin.

  Some time passed in waiting; at last, on the second day of August, theSultan halted at Hotin. His regiments spread out like a sea withoutshores; and at sight of the last town lying within the Padishah'sdominions, Allah! Allah! was wrested from hundreds of thousands ofthroats. On the other side of the Dniester lay the defencelessCommonwealth, which those countless armies were to cover like a deluge,or devour like a flame. Throngs of warriors, unable to find places inthe town, disposed themselves on the fields,--on those same fields,where some tens of years earlier, Polish sabres had scattered anequally numerous army of the Prophet. It seemed now that the hour ofrevenge had come; and no one in those wild legions, from the Sultan tothe camp servant, had a feeling that for the Crescent those fieldswould be ill-omened a second time. Hope, nay, even certainty of victoryrejoiced every heart. Janissaries and spahis, crowds of general militiafrom the Balkans, from the mountains of Rhodope, from Rumelia, fromPelion and Ossa, from Carmel and Lebanon, from the deserts of Arabia,from the banks of the Tigris, from the plains of the Nile, and theburning sands of Africa, giving out wild shouts, prayed to be led atonce to the "infidel bank." But muezzins began to call from theminarets of Hotin to prayer; therefore all were silent. A sea of headsin turbans, caps, fezes, burnooses, kefis, and steel helmets inclinedtoward the earth; and through the fields went the deep murmur ofprayer, like the sound of countless swarms of bees, and borne by thewind, it flew forward over the Dniester toward the Commonwealth.

  Then drums, trumpets, and pipes were heard, giving notice of rest.Though the armies had marched slowly and comfortably, the Padishahwished to give them, after the long journey from Adrianople, a rest atthe river. He performed ablutions himself in a clear spring flowing notfar from the town, and rode thence to the konak of Hotin; but on thefields they began to pitch tents which soon covered, as with snow, theimmeasurable extent of the country about.

  The day was beautiful, and ended serenely. After the last eveningprayers, the camp went to rest. Thousands and hundreds of thousands offires were gleaming. From the small castle opposite, in Jvanyets, menlooked on the light of these fires with alarm, for they were sowide-spread that the soldiers who went to reconnoitre said in theiraccount, "It seemed to us that all Moldavia was under the fires." Butas the bright moon rose higher in the starry sky, all died out save thewatch-fires, the camp became quiet, and amid the silence of the nightwere heard only the neighing of horses and the bellowing of buffaloes,feeding on the meadows of Taraban.

  But next morning, at daybreak, the Sultan commanded the janissaries andTartars to cross the Dniester, and occupy Jvanyets, the town as well asthe castle. The manful Pan Hieronim Lantskoronski did not wait behindthe walls for them, but having at his side forty Tartars, eighty men ofKieff, and one squadron of his own, struck on the janissaries at thecrossing; and in spite of a rattling fire from their muskets, he brokethat splendid infantry, and they began to withdraw toward the river indisorder. But meanwhile, the chambul, reinforced by Lithuanian Tartars,who had crossed at the flank, broke into the town. Smoke and crieswarned the brave chamberlain that the place was in the hands of theenemy. He gave command, therefore, to withdraw from the crossing, andsuccor the hapless inhabitants. The janissaries, being infantry, couldnot pursue, and he went at full speed to the rescue. He was just comingup, when, on a sudden, his own Tartars threw down their flag, and wentover to the enemy. A moment of great peril followed. The chambul, aidedby the traitors, and thinking that treason would bring confusion,struck hand to hand, with great force, on the chamberlain. Fortunately,the men of Kieff, roused by the example of their leader, gave violentresistance. The squadron broke the enemy, who were not in condition tomeet regular Polish cavalry. The ground before the bridge was sooncovered with corpses, especially of Lithuanian Tartars, who, moreenduring than ordinary men of the horde, kept the field. Many of themwere cut down in the streets later on. Lantskoronski, seeing that thejanissaries were approaching from the water, sent to Kamenyets forsuccor, and withdrew behind the walls.

  The Sultan had not thought of taking the castle of Jvanyets that day,thinking justly that he could crush it in the twinkle of an eye, at thegeneral crossing of the armies. He wished only to occupy that point;and supposing the detachments which he sent to be amply sufficient, hesent no more, either of the janissaries or the horde. Those who were onthe other bank of the river occupied the place a second time after thesquadron had withdrawn behind the walls. They did not burn the town, sothat it might serve in future as a refuge for their own, or for otherdetachments, and began to work in it with sabres and daggers. Thejanissaries seized young women in soldier fashion; the husbands andchildren they cut down with axes; the Tartars were occupied in takingplunder.

  At that time the Poles saw from the bastion of the castle that cavalrywas approaching from the direction of Kamenyets. Hearing this,Lantskoronski went out on the bastion himself, with a field-glass, andlooked long and carefully. At last he said,--

  "That is light cavalry from the Hreptyoff garrison; the same cavalrywith which Vasilkovski went to Hrynchuk. Clearly they have sent him outthis time. I see volunteers. It must be Humyetski!

  "Praise be to God!" cried he, after a while. "Volodyovski himself isthere, for I see dragoons. Gracious gentlemen, let us rush out againfrom behind the walls, and with God's help, we will drive the enemy,not only from the town, but from this side of the river."

  Then he ran down with what breath he had, to draw up his men of Kieffand the squadron. Meanwhile the Tartars first in the town saw theapproaching squadron, and shouting shrilly, "Allah!" began to gather ina chambul. Drums and whistles were heard in all the streets. Thejanissaries stood in order with that quickness in which few infantry onearth could compare with them.

  The chambul flew out of the place as if blown by a whirlwind, andstruck the light squadron. The chambul itself, not counting theLithuanian Tartars, whom Lantskoronski had injured considerably, wasthree times more numerous than the garrison of Jvanyets and theapproaching squadrons of reinforcement, hence it did not hesitate tospring on Pan Vasilkovski; but Pan Vasilkovsk
i, a young, irrepressibleman, who hurled himself against every danger with as much eagerness asblindness, commanded his soldiers to go at the highest speed, and flewon like a column of wind, not even observing the number of the enemy.Such daring troubled the Tartars, who had no liking whatever forhand-to-hand combat. Notwithstanding the shouting of murzas riding inthe rear, the shrill whistle of pipes, and the roaring sound of drumscalling to "kesim,"--that is, to hewing heads from unbelievers,--theybegan to rein in, and hold back their horses. Evidently the hearts grewfaint in them every moment, as did also their eagerness. Finally, atthe distance of a bow-shot from the squadron, they opened on two sides,and sent a shower of arrows at the on-rushing cavalry.

  Pan Vasilkovski, knowing nothing of the janissaries, who had formedbeyond the houses toward the river, rushed with undiminished speedbehind the Tartars, or rather behind one half the chambul. He came up,closed, and fell to slashing down those who, having inferior horses,could not flee quickly. The second half of the chambul turned then,wishing to surround him; but at that moment the volunteers rushed up,and the chamberlain came with his men of Kieff. The Tartars, pressedon so many sides, scattered like sand, and then began a rushingabout,--that is, the pursuit of a group by a group, of a man by aman,--in which many of the horde fell, especially by the hand of PanVasilkovski, who struck blindly at whole crowds, just as a lark-falconstrikes sparrows or bunting.

  But Pan Michael, a cool and keen soldier, did not let the dragoons outof his hand. Like a hunter who holds trained, eager dogs in strongleashes, not letting them go at a common beast, but only when he seesthe flashing eyes and white teeth of a savage old boar, so the littleknight, despising the fickle horde, was watching to see if spahis,janissaries, or some other chosen cavalry were not behind them.

  Pan Lantskoronski rushed to him with his men of Kieff.

  "My benefactor," cried he, "the janissaries are moving toward theriver; let us press them!"

  Pan Michael drew his rapier and commanded, "Forward!"

  Each dragoon drew in his reins, so as to have his horse in hand; thenthe rank bent a little, and moved forward as regularly as if on parade.They went first at a trot, then at a gallop, but did not let theirhorses go yet at highest speed. Only when they had passed the housesbuilt toward the water, east of the castle, did they see the white feltcaps of the janissaries, and know that they had to do not withvolunteer, but with regular janissaries.

  "Strike!" cried Volodyovski.

  The horses stretched themselves, almost rubbing the ground with theirbellies, and hurled back lumps of hard earth with their hoofs.

  The janissaries, not knowing what power was approaching to the succorof Jvanyets, were really withdrawing toward the river. One detachment,numbering two hundred and some tens of men, was already at the bank,and its first ranks were stepping onto scows; another detachment ofequal force was going quickly, but in perfect order. When they saw theapproaching cavalry they halted, and in one instant turned their facesto the enemy. Their muskets were lowered in a line, and a salvothundered as at a review. What is more, these hardened warriors,considering that their comrades at the shore would support them withmusketry, not only did not retreat after the volley, but shouted, andfollowing their own smoke, struck in fury with their sabres on thecavalry. That was daring of which the janissaries alone were capable,but for which they paid dearly, because the riders, unable to restrainthe horses, even had they the wish, struck them as a hammer strikes,and breaking them in a moment, scattered destruction and terror. Thefirst rank fell under the force of the blow, as grain under awhirlwind. It is true that many fell only from the impetus, and these,springing up, ran in disorder to the river, from which the seconddetachment gave fire repeatedly, aiming high, so as to strike thedragoons over the heads of their comrades.

  After a while there was evident hesitation among the janissaries at thescows, and also uncertainty whether to embark or follow the example ofthe other detachment, and engage hand to hand with the cavalry. Butthey were restrained from the last step by the sight of fleeing groups,which the cavalry pushed with the breasts of horses, and slashed soterribly that its fury could only be compared with its skill. At timessuch a group, when too much pressed, turned in desperation and began tobite, as a beast at bay bites when it sees that there is no escape forit. But just then those who were standing at the bank could see as ontheir palms that it was impossible to meet that cavalry with coldweapons, so far superior were they in the use of them. The defenderswere cut with such regularity and swiftness that the eye could notfollow the motion of the sabres. As when men of a good household,shelling peas well dried, strike industriously and quickly on thethreshing-floor, so that the whole barn is thundering with the noise ofthe blows and the kernels are jumping toward every side, so did thewhole river-bank thunder with sabre-blows, and the groups ofjanissaries, slashed without mercy, sprang hither and thither in everydirection.

  Pan Vasilkovski hurled himself forward at the head of this cavalry,caring nothing for his own life. But as a trained reaper surpassesa young fellow much stronger than he, but less skilled at thesickle,--for when the young man is toiling, and streams of sweat coverhim, the other goes forward constantly, cutting down the grain evenlybefore him,--so did Pan Michael surpass the wild youth Vasilkovski.Before striking the janissaries he let the dragoons go ahead, andremained himself in the rear somewhat, to watch the whole battle.Standing thus at a distance, he looked carefully, but every littlewhile he rushed into the conflict, struck, directed, then again let thebattle push away from him; again he looked, again he struck. As usualin a battle with infantry, so it happened then, that the cavalry inrushing on passed the fugitives. A number of these, not having beforethem a road to the river, returned in flight to the town, so as to hidein the sunflowers growing in front of the houses; but Pan Michael sawthem. He came up with the first two, and distributed two light blowsbetween them; they fell at once, and digging the earth with theirheels, sent forth their souls with their blood through the open wounds.Seeing this, a third fired at the little knight from a janissarymusket, and missed; but the little knight struck him with hissword-edge between nose and mouth, and this deprived him of preciouslife. Then, without loitering. Pan Michael sprang after the others; andnot so quickly does a village youth gather mushrooms growing in abunch, as he gathered those men before they ran to the sunflowers. Onlythe last two did soldiers of Jvanyets seize; the little knight gavecommand to keep these two alive.

  When he had warmed himself a little, and saw that the janissaries werehotly pressed at the river, he sprang into the thick of the battle, andcoming up with the dragoons, began real labor. Now he struck in front,now he turned to the right or the left, gave a thrust with his bladeand looked no farther; each time a white cap fell to the ground. Thejanissaries began to crowd from before him with an outcry; he redoubledthe swiftness of his blows; and though he remained calm himself, no eyecould follow the movements of his sabre, and know when he would strikeor when he would thrust, for his sabre described one bright circlearound him.

  Pan Lantskoronski, who had long heard of him as a master above masters,but had not seen him hitherto in action, stopped fighting and looked onwith amazement; unable to believe his own eyes, he could not think thatone man, though a master, and famous, could accomplish so much. Heseized his head, therefore, and his comrades around only heard himrepeating continually, "As God lives, they have told little of himyet!" And others cried, "Look at him, for you will not see that againin this world!" But Pan Michael worked on.

  The janissaries, pushed to the river, began now to crowd in disorder tothe scows. Since there were scows enough, and fewer men were returningthan had come, they took their places quickly and easily. Then theheavy oars moved, and between the janissaries and the bank was formedan interval of water which widened every instant. But from the scowsguns began to thunder, whereupon the dragoons thundered in answer fromtheir muskets; smoke rose over the water in cloudlets, then stretchedout in long strips. The scows, and with them the janissaries, re
cededevery moment. The dragoons, who held the field, raised a fierce shout,and threatening with their fists, called,--

  "Ah, thou dog, off with thee! off with thee!"

  Pan Lantskoronski, though the balls were plashing still, seized PanMichael by the shoulders right at the bank.

  "I did not believe my eyes," said he, "those, my benefactor, arewonders which deserve a golden pen!"

  "Native ability and training," answered Pan Michael, "that's the wholematter! How many wars have I passed through?"

  Then returning Lantskoronski's pressure, he freed himself, and lookingat the bank, cried,--

  "Look, your grace; you will see another power."

  The chamberlain turned, and saw an officer drawing a bow on the bank.It was Pan Mushalski.

  Hitherto the famous bowman had been struggling with others inhand-to-hand conflicts with the enemy; but now, when the janissarieshad withdrawn to such a distance that bullets and pistol-balls couldnot reach them, he drew his bow, and standing on the bank at itshighest point he tried the string first with his finger, when ittwanged sharply; he placed on it the feathered arrow--and aimed.

  At that moment Pan Michael and Lantskoronski looked at him. It was abeautiful picture. The bowman was sitting on his horse; he held hisleft hand out straight before him, in it the bow, as if in a vice. Theright hand he drew with increasing force to the nipple of his breast,till the veins were swelling on his forehead, and he aimed carefully.In the distance were visible, under a cloud of smoke, a number of scowsmoving on the river, which was very high, from snow melting on themountains, and was so transparent that the scows and the janissariessitting on them were reflected in the water. Pistols on the bank weresilent; eyes were turned on Pan Mushalski, or looked in the directionin which his murderous arrow was to go.

  Now the string sounded loudly, and the feathered arrow left the bow. Noeye could catch its flight; but all saw perfectly how a sturdyjanissary, standing at an oar, threw out his arms on a sudden, andturning on the spot, dropped into the river. The transparent surfacespurted up from his weight; and Pan Mushalski said,--

  "For thee, Didyuk." Then he sought another arrow. "In honor of thehetman," said he to his comrades. They held their breath; after a whilethe air whistled again, and a second janissary fell on the scow.

  On all the scows the oars began to move more quickly; they struck theclear river vigorously; but the famous bowman turned with a smile tothe little knight,--"In honor of the worthy wife of your grace!" Athird time the bow was stretched; a third time he sent out a bitterarrow; and a third time it sank half its shaft's length in the body ofa man. A shout of triumph thundered on the bank, a shout of rage fromthe scows. Then Pan Mushalski withdrew; and after him followed othervictors of the day, and went to the town.

  While returning, they looked with pleasure on the harvest of that day.Few of the horde had perished, for they had not fought well even once;and put to flight, they recrossed the river quickly. But thejanissaries lay to the number of some tens of men, like bundles offirmly bound grain. A few were struggling yet, but all had beenstripped by the servants of the chamberlain. Looking at them, PanMichael said,--

  "Brave infantry! the men move to the conflict like wild boars; but theydo not know beyond half what the Swedes do."

  "They fired as a man would crack nuts," said the chamberlain.

  "That came of itself, not through training, for they have no generaltraining. They were of the Sultan's guard, and they are disciplined insome fashion; besides these there are irregular janissaries,considerably inferior."

  "We have given them a keepsake! God is gracious, that we begin the warwith such a noteworthy victory."

  But the experienced Pan Michael had another opinion.

  "This is a small victory, insignificant," said he. "It is good to raisecourage in men without training and in townspeople, but will have noresult."

  "But do you think courage will not break in the Pagans?"

  "In the Pagans courage will not break," said Pan Michael.

  Thus conversing, they reached Jvanyets, where the people gave them thetwo captured janissaries who had tried to hide from Pan Michael in thesunflowers.

  One was wounded somewhat, the other perfectly well and full of wildcourage. When he reached the castle, the little knight, who understoodTurkish well, though he did not speak it fluently, asked Pan Makovetskito question the man. Pan Makovetski asked if the Sultan was in Hotinhimself, and if he would come soon to Kamenyets.

  The Turk answered clearly, but insolently,--

  "The Padishah is present himself. They said in the camp that to-morrowHalil Pasha and Murad Pasha would cross, taking engineers with them.To-morrow, or after to-morrow, the hour of destruction will come onyou."

  Here the prisoner put his hands on his hips, and, confident in theterror of the Sultan's name, continued,--

  "Mad Poles! how did you dare at the side of the Sultan to fall on hispeople and strike them? Do you think that hard punishment will missyou? Can that little castle protect you? What will you be in a few daysbut captives? What are you this day but dogs springing in the face ofyour master?"

  Pan Makovetski wrote down everything carefully; but Pan Michael,wishing to temper the insolence of the prisoner, struck him on the faceat the last words. The Turk was confused, and gained respect for thelittle knight straightway, and in general began to express himself moredecently. When the examination was over, and they brought him to thehall, Pan Michael said,--

  "It is necessary to send these prisoners and their confession on agallop to Warsaw, for at the king's court they do not believe yet thatthere will be war."

  "And what do you think, gentlemen, did that prisoner tell the truth, ordid he lie altogether?"

  "If it please you, gentlemen," said Volodyovski, "it is possible toscorch his heels. I have a sergeant who executed Azya, the son of TugaiBey, and who in these matters is _exquisitissimus_; but, to mythinking, the janissary has told the truth in everything. The crossingwill begin soon; we cannot stop it,--no! even if there were a hundredtimes as many of us. Therefore nothing is left but to assemble, and goto Kamenyets with the news."

  "I have done so well at Jvanyets that I would shut myself up in thecastle with pleasure," said the chamberlain, "were I sure that youwould come from time to time with succor from Kamenyets. After that,let happen what would!"

  "They have two hundred cannon," said Pan Michael; "and if they bringover two heavy guns, this castle will not hold out one day. I toowished to shut myself up in it, but now I know that to be useless."

  Others agreed with the little knight. Pan Lantskoronski, as if to showcourage, insisted for a time yet on staying in Jvanyets; but he was tooexperienced a soldier not to see that Volodyovski was right. At last hewas interrupted by Pan Vasilkovski, who, coming from the field, rushedin quickly.

  "Gracious gentlemen," said he, "the river is not to be seen; the wholeDneister is covered with rafts."

  "Are they crossing?" inquired all at once.

  "They are, as true as life! The Turks are on the rafts, and thechambuls in the ford, the men holding the horses' tails."

  Pan Lantskoronski hesitated no longer; he gave orders at once to sinkthe old howitzer, and either to hide the other things, or take them toKamenyets. Pan Michael sprang to his horse, and went with his men to adistant height to look at the crossing.

  Halil Pasha and Murad Pasha were crossing indeed. As far as the eyereached, it saw scows and rafts, pushed forward by oars, with measuredmovement, in the clear water. Janissaries and spahis were movingtogether in great numbers; vessels for crossing had been prepared atHotin a long time. Besides, great masses of troops were standing on theshore at a distance. Pan Michael supposed that they would build abridge; but the Sultan had not moved his main force yet. Meanwhile PanLantskoronski came up with his men, and they marched toward Kamenyetswith the little knight. Pan Pototski was waiting in the town for them.His quarters were filled with higher officers; and before his quartersboth sexes were assembled, unquiet, care
worn, curious.

  "The enemy is crossing, and Jvanyets is occupied!" said the littleknight.

  "The works are finished, and we are waiting," answered Pan Pototski.

  The news went to the crowd, who began to roar like a river.

  "To the gates! to the gates!" was heard through the town. "The enemy isin Jvanyets!" Men and women ran to the bastions, expecting to see theenemy; but the soldiers would not let them go to the places appointedfor service.

  "Go to your houses!" cried they to the crowds; "you will hinder thedefence. Soon will your wives see the Turks near at hand."

  Moreover, there was no alarm in the town, for already news had gonearound of the victory of that day, and news naturally exaggerated. Thesoldiers told wonders of the meeting.

  "Pan Volodyovski defeated the janissaries, the Sultan's own guard,"repeated all mouths. "It is not for Pagans to measure strength with PanVolodyovski. He cut down the pasha himself. The Devil is not soterrible as he is painted! And they did not withstand our troops. Goodfor you, dog-brothers! Destruction to you and your Sultan!"

  The women showed themselves again at the intrenchments and bastions,but laden with flasks of gorailka, wine, and mead. This time they werereceived willingly; and gladness began among the soldiers. Pan Pototskidid not oppose this; wishing to sustain courage in the men andcheerfulness, because there was an inexhaustible abundance ofammunition in the town and the castle, he permitted them to firesalvos, hoping that these sounds of joy would confuse the enemy not alittle, should they hear them.

  Pan Michael remained at the quarters of the starosta till nightfall,when he mounted his horse and was escaping in secret with his servantto the cloister, wishing to be with his wife as soon as possible. Buthis attempts came to nothing, for he was recognized, and dense crowdssurrounded his horse. Shouts and vivats began. Mothers raised theirchildren to him. "There he is! look at him, remember him!" repeatedmany voices. They admired him immensely; but people unacquainted withwar were astonished at his diminutive stature. It could not findplace in the heads of the towns-people that a man so small, and withsuch a pleasant face, could be the most terrible soldier of theCommonwealth,--a soldier whom none could resist. But he rode among thecrowds, and smiled from time to time, for he was pleased. When he cameto the cloister, he fell into the open arms of Basia.

  She knew already of his deeds done that day and all his masterly blows;the chamberlain of Podolia had just left the cloister, and, as aneye-witness, had given her a detailed report. Basia, at the beginningof the narrative, called the women present in the cloister hence,--theabbess and the wives of Makovetski, Humyetski, Ketling, Hotsimirski;and as the chamberlain went on, she began to plume herself immenselybefore them. Pan Michael came just after the women had gone.

  When greetings were finished, the wearied knight sat down to supper.Basia sat at his side, placed food on his plate, and poured mead intohis goblet. He ate and drank willingly, for he had put almost nothingin his mouth the whole day. In the intervals he related something too;and Basia, listening with gleaming eyes, shook her head, according tocustom, asking,--

  "Ah, ha! Well? and what?"

  "There are strong men among them, and very fierce; but it is hard tofind a Turk who's a swordsman," said the little knight.

  "Then I could meet any of them?"

  "You might, only you will not, for I will not take you."

  "Even once in my life! You know, Michael, when you go outside thewalls, I am not even alarmed; I know that no one can reach you."

  "But can't they shoot me?"

  "Be quiet! Isn't there a Lord God? You will not let them cut youdown,--that is the main thing."

  "I will not let one or two slay me."

  "Nor three, Michael, nor four."

  "Nor four thousand," said Zagloba, mimicking her. "If you knew,Michael, what she did when the chamberlain was telling his story. Ithought I should burst from laughter. As God is dear to me! she snortedjust like a goat, and looked into the face of each woman in turn to seeif she was delighted in a fitting manner. In the end I was afraid thatthe goat would go to butting,--no very polite spectacle."

  The little knight stretched himself after eating, for he wasconsiderably tired; then suddenly he drew Basia to him and said,--

  "My quarters in the castle are ready, but I do not wish to return. Imight stay here to-night, I suppose."

  "As you like, Michael," said she, dropping her eyes.

  "Ha!" said Zagloba, "they look on me here as a mushroom, not a man, forthe abbess invites me to live in the nunnery. But I'll pay her, my headon that point! Have you seen how Pani Hotsimirski is ogling me? She isa widow--very well--I won't tell you any more."

  "I think I shall stay," said the little knight.

  "If you will only rest well," said Basia.

  "Why shouldn't he rest?" asked Zagloba.

  "Because we shall talk, and talk, and talk."

  Zagloba wishing to go to his own room, turned to look for his cap; atlast, when he had found it, he put it on his head and said, "You willnot talk, and talk, and talk." Then he went out.

 

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