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

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER XXV

  They began now to counsel. The advice of the Bukoyemskis was todisguise some peasant woman in the dress of a lady, put her onhorseback, give her attendants and soldiers dressed up as bandits, andgo to the place designated by Martsian, and, when he made the attack asagreed upon, surround him immediately, and either wreak vengeancethere, or take him to Cracow and deliver him to justice. They offeredto go themselves, with great willingness, to carry out the plan, andswore that they would throw Martsian in fetters at the feet of PannaAnulka.

  This proposal pleased all at the first moment, but when they examinedit more carefully the execution seemed needless and difficult. PanZbierhovski might rescue from danger people whom he met on his march,but he had not the right to send soldiers on private expeditions, andhe had no wish either to do so. On the other hand, since there was abandit who knew and was ready to indicate to the courts the chiefauthor of the ambush, it was possible to bring that same author toaccount any moment, and to have issued against him a sentence ofinfamy. For this reason both Pan Serafin and Father Voynovski grewconvinced that there would be time for that after the war, since therewas no fear that the Krepetskis, who owned large estates, would fleeand abandon them. This did not please the Bukoyemskis, however, forthey desired keenly to finish the question. They even declared thatsince that was the decision, they would go themselves with theirattendants for Martsian. But Pan Serafin would not permit this, andthey were stopped finally by Yatsek, who implored them by all that wassacred to leave Krepetski to him, and him only.

  "I," said he, "will not act through courts against Martsian, but afterall that I have heard from you here, if I do not fall in the war, asGod is in heaven, I will find the man, and it will be shown whetherinfamy would not be pleasanter and easier also than that which willmeet him."

  And his "maiden" eyes glittered so fiercely that though the Bukoyemskiswere unterrified warriors a shiver went through them. They knew in whata strange manner passion and mildness were intertwined in the spirit ofYatsek, together with an ominous remembrance of injustice.

  He said then repeatedly: "Woe to him!--Woe to him!" and again he grewpale from his blood loss. Day had come already, and the morning lighthad tinted the world in green and rose colors; that light sparkled inthe dewdrops, on the grass and the reeds, and the tree leaves and theneedles of dwarf pines here and there on the edge of the quagmire. PanZbierhovski had commanded to bury the bodies of the fallen bandits,which was done very quickly, for the turf opened under spades easily,and when no trace of battle was left on that roadway, the march wascontinued toward Shydlovets.

  Pan Serafin advised the young lady to sit again in the carriage, whereshe might have a good sleep before they reached the next halting place,but she declared so decisively that she would not desert Yatsek thateven Father Voynovski did not try to remove her. So they went together,only two besides the driver, for sleep was so torturing PaniDzvonkovski, that after a while they transferred her to the carriage.

  Yatsek was lying face upward on bundles of hay arranged lengthwise inone side of the wagon, while she sat on the other, bending every littlewhile toward his wounded shoulder, and watching to see if blood mightnot come through the bandages. At times she put a leather bottle of oldwine to the mouth of the wounded man. This wine acted well to allseeming, for after a while he was wearied of lying, and had the driverdraw out the bundle on which his feet were then resting.

  "I prefer to ride sitting," said he, "since I feel all my strengthnow."

  "But the wound, will that not pain you more if you are sitting?"

  Yatsek turned his eyes to her rosy face, and said in a sad and lowvoice, "I will give the same answer as that knight long ago when KingLokietek saw him pierced with spears by the Knights of the Cross, on abattlefield. 'Is thy pain great?' asked the king. The knight showed hiswounds then. 'These pain least of all,' said he in answer."

  Panna Sieninski dropped her eyes. "But what pains you more?" inquiredshe in a whisper.

  "A yearning heart, and separation, and the memory of wrongs inflicted."

  For a while silence continued, but the hearts began to throb in bothwith power which increased every moment, for they knew that the timehad come then in which they could and should confess everything whicheach had against the other.

  "It is true," said she, "I did you an injustice, when, after the duel,I received you with angry face, and inhumanly. But that was the onlytime, and, though God alone knows how much I regretted that afterward,still I say it is my fault! and from my whole soul I implore you."Yatsek put his sound hand to his forehead.

  "Not that," answered he, "was the thorn, not that the great anguish!"

  "I know it was not that, but the letter from Pan Gideon. How could yoususpect me of knowing the contents of the letter, or having suggestedthem?"

  And she began to tell, with a broken voice, how it happened: how shehad implored Pan Gideon to make a step toward being reconciled: how hehad promised to write a heartfelt and fatherly letter, but he wroteentirely the opposite. Of this she learned only later from FatherVoynovski, and from this it was shown that Pan Gideon having otherplans, simply wanted to separate them from each other forever.

  At the same time, since her words were a confession, and also a renewalof painful and bitter memories, her eyes were dimmed with tears, andfrom constraint and shame a deep blush came out on her cheeks from oneinstant to another.

  "Did Father Voynovski," asked she at last, "not write to you that Iknew nothing, and that I could not even understand why I received formy sincere feelings a recompense of that kind?"

  "Father Voynovski," answered Yatsek, "only wrote me that you were goingto marry Pan Gideon."

  "But did he not write that I consented to do so only through orphanhoodand pain and desertion, and out of gratitude to my guardian? For I knewnot then how he had treated you; I only knew that I was despised andforgotten."

  When he heard this Yatsek closed his eyes and began to speak with greatsadness.

  "Forgotten? Is that God's truth? I was in Warsaw, I was at the king'scourt, I went through the country with my regiment, but whatever I did,and wherever I travelled, not for one moment didst thou go from myheart and my memory. Thou didst follow me as his shadow a man. Andduring nights without sleep, in suffering and in pain, which camesimply from torture, many a time have I called to thee: 'Take pity,have mercy! grant to forget thee!' But thou didst not leave me at anytime, either in the day, or the night, or in the field, or under ahouse roof, until at last I understood that only then could I tear theefrom my heart when I had torn the heart itself from my bosom."

  Here he stopped, for his voice was choked from emotion; but after atime he continued,--

  "So after that often and often I said in my prayers: 'O God, grant medeath, for Thou seest that it is impossible for me to attain her, andimpossible for me to be without her!' And that was before I had hopedfor the favor of seeing thee in life again--thou, the only one in theworld--thou, beloved!"

  As he said this he bent toward her and touched her arm with his temple.

  "Thou," whispered he, "art as that blood which gives life to me, asthat sun in the heavens. The mercy of God is upon me, that I see theeonce more-- O beloved! beloved!"

  And it seemed to her that Yatsek was singing some marvellous song atthat moment. Her eyes were filled with a wave of tears then, and a waveof happiness flooded her heart. Again there was silence between them;but she wept long with such a sweet weeping as she had never known inher life till that morning.

  "Yatsek," said she at last, "why have we so tormented each other?"

  "God has rewarded us a hundred fold," said he in answer.

  And for the third time there was silence between them; only the wagonsqueaked on, pushing forward slowly over the ruts of the roadway.Beyond the forest they came out onto great fields bathed in sunlight;on those fields wheat was rustling, dotted richly with red poppies andblue star thistles. There was great calm in that region. Ab
ove fieldson which the grain had been reaped, here and there skylarks weresoaring, lost in song, motionless; on the edges of the fields sicklesglittered in the distance; from the remoter green pastures came thecries and songs of men herding cattle. And to both it seemed that thewheat was rustling because of them; that the poppies and star thistleswere blooming because of them; that, the larks were singing because ofthem; that the calls of the herdsmen were uttered because of them; thatall the sunny peace of those fields and all those voices were simplyrepeating their ecstasy and happiness.

  They were roused from this oblivion by Father Voynovski, who had pushedup unnoticed to the wagon.

  "How art thou, Yatsus?" asked he.

  Yatsek trembled and looked with shining eyes at him, as if just rousedfrom slumber.

  "What is it, benefactor?"

  "How art thou?"

  "Eh! it will not be better in paradise!"

  The priest looked seriously first at him, then at the young lady.

  "Is that true?" asked he.

  And he galloped off to the company. But the delightful reality embracedthem anew. They began to look on each other, and sink in the eyes ofeach other.

  "O, thou not-to-be-looked-at-sufficiently!" said Yatsek.

  But she lowered her eyes, smiled at the corners of her mouth tilldimples appeared in her rosy cheeks, and asked in a whisper,--

  "But is not Panna Zbierhovski more beautiful?"

  Yatsek looked at her with amazement.

  "What, Panna Zbierhovski?"

  She made no answer; she simply laughed in her fist, with a laugh asresonant as a silver bell.

  Meanwhile, when the priest had galloped to the company, the men, wholoved Yatsek, fell to inquiring,--

  "Well, how is it there? How is our wounded man?"

  "He is no longer in this world!" replied Father Voynovski.

  "As God lives! What has happened? How is he not in the world?"

  "He is not, for he says that he is in paradise--a woman!!!"

  The Bukoyemskis, as men who understand without metaphor all that issaid to them, did not cease to look at the priest with astonishmentand, removing their caps, were just ready to say, "eternal rest," whena general outbreak of laughter interrupted their pious thoughts andintention. But in that laughter of the company there was sinceregood-will and sympathy for Yatsek. Some of the men had learned from PanStanislav how sensitive that cavalier was, and all divined how he musthave suffered, hence the words of the priest delighted them greatly.Voices were heard at once, therefore: "God knows! we have seen how hefought with his feelings, how he answered questions at random, how heleft buckles unfastened, how he forgot himself when eating or drinking,how he turned his eyes to the moon during night hours."

  "Those are infallible signs of unfortunate love," added some. "It istrue," put in others, "that he is now as if in paradise, for if nowounds give more pain than those caused by Love, there is no sweeterthing than mutuality."

  These and similar remarks were made by Yatsek's comrades. Some of them,having learned of the hardships which the lady had passed through, andhow shamefully Krepetski had treated her, fell to shaking their sabres,and crying; "Give him hither!" Some became sensitive over the maiden,some, having learned how Martsian had been handled by the Bukoyemskis,raised to the skies the native valor and wit of those brothers. Butafter a while universal attention was centred again on the lovers:"Well," cried out all, "let us shout to their health and good fortune_et felices rerum successus!_" and immediately a noisy throng movedtoward the wagon on horseback. In one moment almost the whole regimenthad surrounded Pan Yatsek and Panna Anulka. Loud voices thundered:"_Vivant! floreant!_" others cried before the time: "_Crescite etmultiplicamini!_" Whether Panna Anulka was really frightened by thosecries, or rather as an "insidious woman," she only feigned terrorfather Voynovski himself could not have decided. It is enough that,sheltering her bright head at the unwounded shoulder of Yatsek, sheasked with shamefaced confusion,--

  "What is this, Yatsek? what are they doing?"

  He surrounded her with his sound arm, and said,--

  "People are giving thee, dearest flower, and I am taking thee."

  "After the war?"

  "Before the war."

  "In God's name, why so hurried?"

  But it was evident that Yatsek had not heard this query for instead ofreplying, he said to her,--

  "Let us bow to the dear comrades for this good-will, and thank them."

  Hence they bowed toward both sides, which roused still greaterenthusiasm. Seeing the blushing face of the maiden, which was asbeautiful as the morning dawn, the warriors struck their thighs withtheir palms from admiration.

  "By the dear God!" cried they. "One might be dazzled!"

  "An angel would be enamoured; what can a sinful man do?"

  "It is no wonder that he was withering with sorrow."

  And again hundreds of voices thundered more powerfully,--

  "_Vivant! crescant! floreant!_"

  Amid those shouts, and in clouds of golden dust they enteredShydlovets. At the first moment the inhabitants were frightened, and,leaving in front of their houses the workshops in which they werecutting out whetstones from sandrock, they ran to their chambers. But,learning soon that those were the shouts of a betrothal, and not ofanger, they rushed in a crowd to the street and followed the soldiers.A throng of horses and men was formed straightway. The kettledrums ofthe horsemen were beaten, the trumpets and crooked horns sounded.Gladness became universal. Even the Jews, who through fear had stayedlonger in the houses, shouted: "_Vivait!_"[7] though they knew not wellwhat the question was.

  But Tachevski said to Panna Anulka,--

  "Before the war, before the war, even though death were to come onehour later."