On the Field of Glory: An Historical Novel of the Time of King John Sobieski

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER IV

  Pan Gideon had not invented when he spoke of the "abhorrence" which athis house both women felt for the conqueror. Yatsek convinced himselfof this from one glance at them. Pani Vinnitski met him with anoffended face, and snatched her hand away when he wished to kiss it ingreeting; and the young lady, without compassion for his suffering andembarrassment, did not answer his greeting. She was occupied withStanislav, sparing neither tender looks nor anxious questions; shepushed her care so far that when he rose from the armchair in thedining-room to go to the chamber set apart for the wounded shesupported him by the arm, and though he opposed and excused himself sheconducted him to the threshold.

  "For thee there is nothing in this house. All is lost!" cried despairand also jealousy in Yatsek's heart at sight of this action. Toward himthat maiden had shown changing humors, and with one kindly word hadgiven usually ten that were cold, when not biting, hence his pain wasthe keener, that till then he had not supposed that she could be kind,sweet, and angel-like to a man whom she loved really. That Panna Anulkaloved Stanislav the ill-fated Yatsek had no doubt whatever. He wouldhave endured not only such a wound as that given Stanislav, but wouldhave shed all his blood with delight, if she would speak even once inher life to him with such a voice, and look with such eyes at him asshe had looked then at Stanislav. Hence, besides pain, an immeasurablesorrow now seized him. This sent a torrent of tears toward hiseyeballs, and if those tears did not gush out and flow down his cheeks,they flooded his heart and pervaded his being. Thus did Yatsek feel hiswhole breast fill with tears, and, to give the last blow at thisjuncture, never had Panna Anulka seemed to him so beautiful beyondmeasure as at that moment, with her pale face and her crown of goldenhair slightly dishevelled from emotion. "She is an angel, but not forthee," complained the sorrow within him; "wonderful, but another willtake her!" And he would have fallen at her feet and confessed all hissuffering and devotion, but at the same time he felt that just afterthat which had happened it would not be proper to do so, and that if hedid not control himself and stifle the struggle in his spirit he wouldtell her something quite different from that which he wanted, and sinkhimself utterly in her estimation.

  Meanwhile Pani Vinnitski, as an elderly person and one skilled inmedicine, entered the chamber with Stanislav, while the young ladyturned back from the threshold. Yatsek, understanding that he must usethe opportunity approached her.

  "I should like a word with you," said he, struggling to controlhimself, and with a trembling voice which, as it were, belonged toanother.

  She looked at him with cold astonishment.

  "What do you wish?"

  Yatsek's face was lighted with a smile of such pain that it was almostlike that of a martyr.

  "What I wish for myself will not come to me, though I were to give myown soul's salvation to get it," said he, shaking his head; "but forone thing I beg you: do not accuse me, cherish no offence against me,have some compassion, for I am not of wood nor of iron."

  "I have no word to say," replied she, "and there is no time fortalking."

  "Ah! there is always some time to say a kind word to the man for whomthis world is grievous."

  "Is it because you have wounded my rescuers?"

  "The blame is not mine, as God stands by the innocent! The messengerwho came for those gentlemen to Vyrambki should have declared whatFather Voynovski told him to tell here; namely, that I did notchallenge them. Did you know that they were the challengers?"

  "I did. The attendant, being a simple man, did not repeat, it is true,every word which the priest sent; he merely cried out that 'the younglord of Vyrambki had slashed them to pieces;' then Pan Gideon, onreturning from Vyrambki, ran in from the road and explained what hadhappened."

  Pan Gideon feared lest the news that Yatsek had been challenged mightreach the young lady from other lips and weaken her anger, hence hewished above all to describe the affair in his own way, not delaying toadd that Yatsek by venomous insults had forced them to challenge him.He reckoned on this: that Panna Anulka, taking things woman fashion,would be on the side of the men who had suffered most.

  Still, it seemed to Yatsek that the beloved eyes looked on him lessseverely, so he repeated the question,--

  "Did you know this position?"

  "I knew," replied she, "but I remember that which you should not haveforgotten if you had even a trifling regard for me,--that I owe my lifeto those gentlemen. And I have learnt from my guardian that you forcedthem to challenge you."

  "I, not have regard for you? Let God, who looks into men's hearts,judge that statement."

  All on a sudden her eyes blinked time after time; then she shook herhead till a tress fell to the opposite shoulder, and she said,--

  "Is that true?"

  "True, true!" continued he, in a panting and deeply sad voice. "Ishould have let men cut me down, it seems, so as not to annoy you. Theblood which was dearest to you would not have been shed then. But thereis no help now for the omission. There is no help now for anything!Your guardian told you that I forced those gentlemen to challenge me. Ileave that too to God's judgment. But did your guardian tell you thathe himself had insulted me beyond mercy and measure beneath my own rooftree? I have come now to you because I knew that I should not find himhere. I have come to satisfy my unhappy eyes with the last look at you.I know that this is all one to you, but I thought that even in thatcase--"

  Here Yatsek halted, for tears stopped his utterance. Parma Anulka'smouth began also to quiver and to take on more and more the shape of ahorseshoe, and only haughtiness joined to timidity, the timidity of amaiden, struggled in her with emotion. But perhaps she was restrainedby this also: that she wished to get from Yatsek a still morecomplaining confession, and perhaps because she did not believe that hewould go from her and never come back again. More than once there hadbeen misunderstandings between them, more than once had Pan Gideonoffended him greatly, and still, after brief exhibitions of anger,there had followed silent or spoken explanations and all had gone onagain in the old way.

  "So it will be this time also," thought Panna Anulka.

  For her it was sweet to listen to Yatsek and to see that great lovewhich, though it dared not express itself in determinate utterance, wasstill beaming from him with a submission which was matched only by itsmightiness. Hence she yearned to hear him speak with her the longesttime possible with that wondrous voice, and to lay at her feet for thelongest time possible that young, loving, pained heart of his.

  But he, inexperienced in love matters and blind as are all who lovereally, could not take note of this, and did not know what washappening within her. He looked on her silence as hardenedindifference, and bitterness was gradually drowning his spirit. Thecalmness with which he had spoken at first began now to desert him, hiseyes took on another light, drops of cold sweat came out on histemples: something was tearing and breaking the soul in him. He wasseized by despair of such kind that when a man lies in the grip of ithe reckons with nothing, and is ready with his own hands to tear hisown wounded heart open. He spoke yet as it were calmly, but his voicehad a new sound, it was firmer, though hoarser.

  "Is this the case," asked he, "and is there not one word from thee?"

  Panna Anulka shrugged her shoulders in silence.

  "The priest told me the truth when he warned that here a still greaterwrong was in store for me."

  "In what have I wronged thee?" asked she, bitterly, pained by thesudden change which she saw in him.

  But he waded on farther in blindness.

  "Had I not seen how thou didst treat this Pan Stanislav, I should thinkthat thou hadst no heart in thy bosom. Thou hast a heart, but for him,not for me. He glanced at thee, and that was sufficient."

  Then Yatsek grasped the hair of his head with both hands on a sudden.

  "Would to God that I had cut him to pieces!"

  A flame flashed, as it were, through Panna Anulka; her cheekscrimsoned, anger blazed in her eyes as well at hersel
f as at Yatsek;because a moment before she had been ready for weeping, her heart wasseized now by indignation, deep and sudden.

  "You, sir, have lost your senses!" cried she, raising her head andshaking back the tress from her shoulder.

  She was on the point of rushing away, but that brought Yatsek to utterdesperation; he seized her hands and detained her.

  "Not thou art to go. I am the person to go," said he, with set teeth."And before going I say this to thee: though for years I have lovedthee more than health, more than life, and more than my own soul, Iwill never come back to thee. I will gnaw my own hands off in torture,but, so help me, God, I will never come back to thee!"

  Then, forgetting his worn Hungarian cap on the floor there, he sprangto the doorway, and in an instant she saw him through the window,hurrying away along the garden by which the road to Vyrambki wasshorter,--and he vanished.

  Panna Anulka stood for a time as if a thunderbolt had struck her. Herthoughts had scattered like a flock of birds in every direction; sheknew not what had happened. But when thoughts returned to her allfeeling of offence was extinguished, and in her ears were sounding onlythe words: "I loved thee more than health, more than life, more than myown soul, but I will never come back to thee!" She felt now that intruth he would never come back, just because he had loved her sotremendously. Why had she not given him even one kind word for which,before anger had swept the man off, he had begged as if for alms, or amorsel of bread to give strength on a journey? And now endless griefand fear seized her. He had rushed off in pain and in madness. He mayfall on the road somewhere. He may in despair work on himself somethingevil, and one heartfelt word might have healed and cured everything.Let him hear her voice even. He must go, beyond the garden, through themeadow to the river. He will hear her there yet before he vanishes.

  And rushing from the house she ran to the garden. Deep snow lay on themiddle path, but his tracks there were evident. She ran in them. Shesank at times to her knees, and on the road lost her rosary, herhandkerchief, and her workbag with thread in it, and, panting, shereached the garden gate finally.

  "Pan Yatsek! Pan Yatsek!" cried she.

  But the field beyond the garden was empty. Besides, that same windwhich had blown the morning haze off, made a great sound among thebranches of apple and pear trees; her weak voice was lost in that soundaltogether. Then, not regarding the cold nor her light, indoorclothing, she sat on a bench near the gate and fell to crying. Tears aslarge as pearls dropped down her cheeks and she, having nothing elsenow with which to remove them, brushed those tears away with that tresson her shoulder.

  "He will not come back."

  Meanwhile the wind sounded louder and louder, shaking wet snow from thedark branches.

  When Yatsek rushed into his house like a whirlwind, without cap andwith dishevelled hair, the priest divined clearly enough what hadhappened.

  "I foretold this," said he. "God give thee aid, O my Yatsek; but I asknothing till thou hast come to thy mind and art quiet."

  "Ended! All is ended!" said Yatsek.

  And he walked up and down in the chamber, like a wild beast inconfinement.

  The priest said no word, interrupted him in nothing, and only afterlong waiting did he rise, put his arms around Yatsek's shoulders, kisshis head, and lead him by the hand to an alcove.

  The old man knelt before a small crucifix which was hanging over thebed there, and when the sufferer had knelt at his side the priestprayed as follows:

  "O Lord, Thou knowest what pain is, for Thou didst endure it on thecross for the offences of mankind.

  "Hence I bring my bleeding heart to Thee, and at Thy feet which arepierced I implore Thee for mercy.

  "I cry not to Thee: 'take this pain from me,' but I cry 'give mestrength to endure it.'

  "For I, O Lord, am a soldier submissive to Thy order, and I desire muchto serve Thee, and the Commonwealth, my mother-- But how can I do thiswhen my heart is faint and my right hand is weakened?

  "Because of this make me forget myself and make me think only of Thyglory, and the rescue of my mother, for those things are of far greatermoment than the pain of a pitiful worm, such as I am.

  "And strengthen me, O Lord, in my saddle, so that through lofty deedsagainst pagans I may reach a glorious death, and also heaven.

  "By Thy crown of thorns, hear me!

  "By the wound in Thy side, hear me!

  "By Thy hands and feet pierced with nails, hear me!"

  Then they knelt for a long time, but at the middle of the prayer it wasevident that the pain in Yatsek's breast had broken, for on a sudden hecovered his face with both hands and fell to sobbing. When they hadrisen and gone to the adjoining chamber Father Voynovski sighed deeply.

  "My Yatsek," said he, "I saw much of life in my years of a warrior,during which sorrow greater than thine met me. I have no thought tospeak touching this to thee. I will say only that in a time of mostterrible anguish I composed this very prayer and to it owe deliverance.I have repeated it frequently in misfortune since that day, and alwayswith solace; we have repeated it now for this reason. And how dost thoufeel? Art thou not freed in some measure? Pray tell me!"

  "I feel pain, but it burns less severely."

  "Ah, seest thou! Now drink some wine. I will tell thee, or rather Iwill show thee, something which should give thee comfort. Look!"

  And bending his head down he showed beneath his white hair a dreadfulscar, which passed across his whole crown from one side to the other.

  "From that," said he, "I came very near dying. The wound pained meawfully, but the scar gives no trouble. In like manner, Yatsek, thywound will cease to pain when a scar takes the place of it. Tell me nowwhat has happened to thee."

  Yatsek began, but met failure. It was not in his nature to invent, orincrease, or exaggerate, so now he himself wondered over this: that allwhich had torn him with such torture seemed less cruel in thenarrative. But Father Voynovski, clearly a man of experience, andknowing the world, heard him out to the end, and then added,--

  "It is difficult, I understand that, to describe looks or even gestureswhich may be altogether contemptuous and insulting. Often even onelook, or one wave of the hand, has led men to duels and to bloodshed.The main point is this: thou hast told the young lady that thou wiltnot go back to her. Youth is giddy, and when guided by sadness itchanges as the moon in the sky does. And love too is like thatmendacious moon, which when it seems to decrease is just growing andswelling toward its fulness. How is it then, hast thou the true wish ofdoing what thy words tell me?"

  "So help me, God, I have told my whole wish, and if thou desire I willrepeat the same in an oath on that cross there."

  "And what dost thou think to do?"

  "To go into the world."

  "I have been hoping for that. I have desired it this long time. I haveknown what detained thee, but go now. When thou hast broken thy fettersgo into the world. Thou wilt wait for no good thing in this place, nogood thing has met thee here, or will meet thee here ever. To thee thelife here has been ruin. It was a happiness that I was near by andtrained thee in Latin, and in working with thy sword even somewhat;without these two kinds of knowledge thou wouldst have dropped down tobe a peasant. Thank me not, Yatsus, for that was pure devotion on mypart. I shall be sad here without thee, but I am not in question. Thouwilt go into the world. That, as I understand, means that thou wiltjoin the army. That road is the straightest and the most honorable,also, especially since war with the pagan is approaching. The pen andthe chancellery are more certain, men tell us, than promotion from thesabre, but they are less fitted for blood such as thine is."

  "I have not thought of another service," said Yatsek, "but I shall notjoin the infantry, and I cannot in any way reach the higher banners,for I am in terrible poverty--"

  "A noble who has Latin on his tongue and a sabre in his fist will makehis way always," interrupted the priest; "but there is no need oftalking, thou must have good horses. We must think over this carefully.Now I will tell thee som
ething of which I have never yet spoken. I holdfor thee ten ruddy ducats which thy late mother left with me--and herletter, in which she begs not to give thee this money, lest it be spentere the time comes. Only in sudden need may I give it when eitherthe ferry or the wagon is awaiting thee--when some dilemma presentsitself--well, the dilemma is here at this moment! Thou hadst anhonorable, a holy, and an unhappy mother, for when that woman was dyingthere was great need in her dwelling, and she took from her own mouththat which she left with me."

  "God give eternal rest to her," said Yatsek. "Let those ten ducats beused for masses to benefit her soul, and Vyrambki I will sell even fora trifle."

  Father Voynovski grew very tender at these words; a tear glistened inhis eye, and again he put his arms around Yatsek.

  "There is honest blood in thee," said he, "but thou art not free toreject this gift from thy mother, even for the purpose which thou hastmentioned. Masses will not be lacking in her case, be sure of that,though in truth she has no great need of them; but to other soulssuffering in purgatory they will be of service. As to Vyrambki it wouldbe better to mortgage it; though a noble has but the smallest estate,how differently do people esteem him from one who is landless."

  "But I am in a hurry. I should like to go even to-day."

  "To-day thou wilt not go, though the sooner the better. I must writefor thee letters to my comrades and friends. We must talk also with thebrewers in Yedlina who have money and also good horses, so that noarmored warrior may have a better outfit. In my house there are someold arms and some sabres, not so much ornamented as tested on Swedishand Turkish shoulders."

  Here the priest looked through the window and said,--

  "But the sleigh is waiting, and a traveller should start when hissleigh comes."

  An expression of pain now shot over the face of the young man; hekissed the priest's hand and added,--

  "I have one other prayer, my benefactor and father; let me go with younow and live in your house till I leave this region. Those roofs arevisible from this dwelling. They are too near me."

  "Of course! I wished to propose this; thou hast taken the words from mylips. There is no work for thee here, and I shall be glad from my soulto have thee under my roof tree. Be of good cheer, O my Yatsus. Theworld does not end in Belchantska, but stands open widely before thee.God alone knows how far thou wilt ride when once thou art on horseback.War is awaiting thee! Glory is awaiting thee! and that which pains theeto-day will be healed at another time. I see now how the wings aregrowing out at thy shoulders. Fly then, O bird of the Lord, for to thatwert thou predestined and created."

  And joy like a sunray lighted up the honest face of the old man. Hestruck his thigh with his palm, soldier fashion.

  "Now take thy cap and we will go."

  But small things stand often in the way of important ones, and thecomic is mixed with the tragic. Yatsek glanced round the room; then hegazed with concern at the priest, and repeated,--

  "My cap!"

  "Well! Thou wilt not go bareheaded--"

  "How could I?"

  "Where is it?"

  "But suppose it remained at Belchantska?"

  "There are thy love tricks, old woman! What wilt thou do?"

  "What shall I do? I might get a cap from my man, but I could not go inthe cap of a peasant."

  "Thou canst not go in a peasant's cap, but send thy man toBelchantska."

  "I would not for anything."

  The priest was becoming impatient.

  "Plague take it! War, glory, the wide world--these are all waiting forthe man, but his cap is gone!"

  "There is an old hat in the bottom of a trunk which my father took froma Swedish officer at Tremeshno--"

  "Take it, and let us go."

  Yatsek vanished and returned a little later wearing the yellow hat of aSwedish horseman, which was too large for him. Amused by the sight ofit, the priest caught at his left side as if seeking his sabre.

  "It is well," said he, "that it is not a Turkish turban. But this is areal carnival!"

  Yatsek smiled in reply, and then added,--

  "There are some stones in the buckle; they may be of value."

  Then they took seats in the sleigh and moved forward. Immediatelybeyond the enclosure Belchantska and the mansion were as visiblethrough leafless alders as something on one's hand. The priest lookedcarefully at Yatsek, who merely drew the big Swedish hat over his eyesand did not look, though something besides his Hungarian cap had beenleft in the mansion.