 Book III. CHAPTER XI. of With Fire and Sword by Henrik Sinkiewicz, translated by Samuel A. Binyon. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Several weeks had passed. Fresh nobles came crowding every day to the election. In the town the population had increased tenfold, for, beside the crowd of nobles, thousands of merchants and bazaar traders came thither from different parts of the world, from distant Persia to the coasts of England beyond the sea. In the quarter of the town called Voli they had put up a wooden building for the senate, and round about it might be seen already thousands of tents which completely covered the ground. No one knew as yet which of the two candidates would be elected, the king's son Kazimir, the cardinal, or Charles Ferdinand, the bishop of Plotsky. Both parties exerted themselves to the utmost. Thousands of circulars were distributed, setting forth the virtues and faults of the candidates. Both sides had many and powerful adherents. Two Charles's party belonged, as we know, Prince Yerimi, and this was all the more dangerous for the opposite party that it seemed more and more probable that he would carry with him the nobility, who were very devoted to him and on whom everything depended. But Kazimir was not lacking in strength. The provincial governors were on his side, and he had the influence of the chancellor. The primate also seemed to favor him, and behind him stood the greater number of the magnates, each of whom had a considerable following. And among these magnates was Prince Dominic the Slavskiy Ostrogsky, boyavoda of Sandomir, who, although actually dishonored after the affair of Pilavets and even threatened with justice, was still the greatest lord in the Commonwealth, yes, even in the whole of Europe, and had besides unlimited wealth to throw into the balance for his candidate. Nevertheless Kazimir's adherents had many moments of bitter doubt, for as we have said, everything finally depended on the nobility, who from the 4th of October had begun to pour into Warsaw, and were still coming in by thousands from all parts of the Commonwealth, and carried away by the greatness of Vishnuovetsky, and the prince's interested generosity, declared one and all for Prince Charles. Charles was able and hospitable, and did not fail on this occasion, to give considerable sums towards forming fresh regiments, which were to be placed under Vishnuovetsky's command. Kazimir would willingly have followed his example, and it was not stinginess, but on the contrary a too great open-handedness which had caused continual depletion of his treasury, that now prevented him from giving. During this time active consultations were going on between the two parties. Messengers were sent daily between Neporenta and Yablona. Kazimir, on account of his seniority and in consideration of brotherly love, conjured Prince Charles to withdraw and leave the field clear for him. But the bishop would not listen to this request, and wrote that it was not right to turn away any fortune that might come to him, especially as this fortune was in accordance with the suffrage of the whole Commonwealth, which had nominated him for its ruler. And meanwhile the time passed, the six-weeks interval was coming to a close and, with it, the terror of the Cossacks, for news had arrived that Mjolnitsky had raised the siege of Lemberg after storming it several times, and that he was now before Zamos, the last rampart of the Commonwealth, which he was storming day and night. It was also said that besides the ambassador whom Mjolnitsky had sent with a letter, and an announcement that, as a Polish nobleman, he declared in favour of Prince Kazimir, he had sent to Warsaw a whole swarm of disguised Cossack captains who had sneaked into the ranks of the nobility without being recognized. They were dressed like the true nobility, and could not be distinguished from them even in their speech, and were especially like the nobility from the Russian District. Some had gone there, it was said, out of pure curiosity, in order to see the election festivities and to see Warsaw. Others had gone to find out what was said about the coming war, how many soldiers the Commonwealth could put in the field, and what money she had to spend on it. Much that was told about these guests might be true, for among the Zaporizion captains there were many noblemen who lived in the Cossack fashion and also understood Latin, which made it all the more difficult to recognize them. In the farther steps Latin did not flourish, and people even like the Princess Kertsevich did not understand it, as well as Bohun and other Ottomans. These and similar rumours, which had circulated in the town, as well as in the election camp, combined with the news of Mjolnitsky's approach and the expeditions of the Cossacks and Tartars who were advancing to the Vistula, filled men's hearts with fear and unrest, and often gave rise to tumults. It was quite enough among the assembled nobility to suspect any one of being a Zaporizion in disguise, and in a moment before he could justify himself, he was cut to pieces by their swords. In this manner several innocent men came to their death, and the dignity and earnestness of the election suffered in consequence. Especially as, in those times, drunkenness was not looked upon with much disfavor. The chapter for the security of the place could not restrain the continual disputes which at the first opportunity turned into a fight. But if earnest men who were filled with the love of good and of peace lamented these tumults in the face of the danger which threatened their country, the frivolous, the fighters and the drunkards, the dice-throwers and ruffians who were in their element, considered this time as their period of harvest and committed all sorts of misdemeanours with the greatest audacity. It is not necessary to say that Panzagloba was their leader, as one might have supposed from his distinguished position, as well as his insatiable thirst for drink and his fluent tongue, which was equal by none, and his absolute self-confidence, which nothing could shake. At times he was even attacked by melancholy, and then he shut himself up in his room or in the tent, saw no one, and when he came out he was in a horrible temper and ready for serious quarrels and fighting. It transpired that in a similar humour, he had wounded Pan Dunchevsky of Ravyanina seriously, for no other reason than that in passing by he had pushed against Zagloba's sword. At such times he could endure the company of no one but Pan Michael, to whom he then complained that a longing to see Skyshetto ski and the poor girl was consuming him. We have forsaken them, Pan Michael, he would say, like traitors we have given them over into ungodly hands, and you cannot excuse yourself with your nemini excepto. What do you suppose is happening to her, Pan Michael? It was in vain that Pan Michael told him that if the catastrophe at Pilavets had not overtaken them they would have sought the poor girl, but that now it was impossible, as the whole might of Milnitsky's forces separated her from them. The noblemen, however, would not be comforted, but became more furious, and even swore that the world now consisted only of feather quilts, childishness and latinity. These attacks of sadness, however, only lasted a short time, and after they were over Zagloba drank and caroused more than ever, as though to make up for lost time. He passed most of his time in the wine-shops, in the company of the greatest sots or women of the town, and Pan Michael was his fateful companion. Pan Michael, an excellent soldier and officer, had not the slightest degree of that earnestness which misfortune and sorrow had developed in Skishtursky. He fulfilled his duties to the common wealth, in striking wherever he was told, and did not bother himself about anything else. He did not understand public affairs. He grieved over a mischance of war, but it did not occur to him that these two molts and brawls were just as injurious to the country as a defeat in battle. In one word he was a flighty youngster, and, having once been swallowed up in the whirlpool of the capital, was submerged to his ears and hung like a chain round Zagloba, who was his master in deviltry. He wrote about, therefore, with the other nobles, to whom Zagloba told the most incredible things over the wine, gained adherents for Prince Charles, drank with Zagloba, screened him in emergencies, and went everywhere with him, to the electioneering camp and about the town together like flies in boiling water, there was no corner they did not penetrate. They were seen in Nyaporenta, in Nyablona, and at all the dinners and suppers at the houses of the magnates and in the ends. In fact, everywhere, and they enjoyed everything. Pan Michael's young palm itched to make itself felt and to prove that the Ukrainian nobles were better than any other, and that the princes' soldiers were above all others. So they rode off to look for adventure among the Lenchitsyns, who were the best swordsmen, and especially among the partisans of Prince Dominic Zaslavsky, whom they both hated above all. They entered into disputes only with the most desperate ruffians whose reputation was well known and could not be doubted, and at once began to seek a quarrel. You, sir, seek a quarrel, said Pan Michael to Zagloba, and then I will take it up. Zagloba, who was not to be beaten in a war of words, and who in a single fight with a brother nobleman was no coward, did not always agree to playing second fiddle, especially in disputes with the Zaslavskys, but when it was a question of fighting with any Lenchitsyns he halted, and even if the other man had drawn his sword, Zagloba would say, my good sir, I should have no conscience if I were to expose you to an inevitable death by fighting with you. Perhaps you had better try with my little son and pupil, but I do not know if you will fare any better with him. After this speech Vylajovsky would come to the front, with his pointed little mustache twirling upwards, his pugnose, and a stupid expression on his face, and whether his substitution was accepted or not he would intervene as he really was a master above all masters, began at once to fight and usually laid his opponent low after a few rounds. They both therefore sought such entertainment. Their fame continued to increase among the restless spirits of the nobility, especially Zagloba's fame, for they said, if that is his pupil what must the master be? But it was a long time before Vylajovsky could find Pancarlamp. He even thought that he had been sent back to Lithuania on some business. Six weeks had elapsed, during which time public affairs had made a great advance. The struggle between the two candidates and brothers, the exertions of their adherents, the violence and excitement of the partisans, had all pretty nearly passed from remembrance. It was already known to all that Jan Kazemir would be elected, for Charles had withdrawn and left the field clear for his brother. It seemed strange that Mielnitsky's voice should be heard and that it should have any weight. It was thought that he would bow to the majesty of the king, especially such a king, one who had been chosen according to his wishes. These surmises for the most part were verified by the event. This turn of the wheel of fate was a heavy blow to Vyshnyovetsky, who, like Cato of olden times, had never ceased to advise the destruction of this Zaporosian carthage. Now under these circumstances the only step to take was that of negotiation. The prince saw indeed that these negotiations would result in nothing or, in a short time, would be brought to nothing by the force of circumstances. And he saw nothing but war in the future and was filled with anxiety at the thought of whether this war would lead. After the conclusion of these negotiations, Mielnitsky would become stronger and the Commonwealth weaker. And who would then venture to lead their forces against such a celebrated leader as Mielnitsky? Would not new defeats, new misfortunes come to pass, which would exhaust their resources to the uttermost? For the prince did not deceive himself. He knew that he, the most dreaded of Prince Charles' adherents, would not receive the chief command. It was true that Prince Kazemir had promised his brother that he would honor his adherents as he did his own, for he had a noble soul, but Kazemir sided with the political party of the Chancellor. Consequently another would obtain the baton, not he. Woe to the Commonwealth, however, if this one should not be a more experienced leader than Mielnitsky, a twofold sorrow filled the soul of Prince Yerimi, anxiety about the future of the mother country, and that indescribable feeling that takes possession of a man who sees that his services are not valued, that he does not obtain justice, and that others are allowed to supplant him. Yerimi would not have been of Vishnoyetsky if he had not been haughty. He felt in himself the power to wield the baton, and he had deserved it. Unfortunately he suffered a twofold disappointment. It was said even among the officers that the Prince would not wait for the end of the election, but would leave Warsaw. But that was not true. The Prince not only did not leave, but even went to Nieporentz to see Prince Kazemir, by whom he was received most graciously, and after a long audience, returned to the town because military affairs demanded his presence. It was a question of the transport of the provisions to the soldiers which the Prince had earnestly urged. Besides this, new regiments, dragoons, and infantry had to be formed at Prince Charles's expense. The first were to be sent at once to Russia, the others were to be trained. For this purpose Yerimi sent in all directions officers who were experienced in the organization of troops, in order to bring those regiments and squadrons into the desired condition. Kushel and Vyashul were also sent out, and at last it came to Folojovsky's turn. He was summoned one day before the Prince, who gave him the following orders. You are to go to Zaborova by way of Babits and Lipki, where horses intended for the regiment are waiting. Look them over and make your selection and pay Panchakovsky, and then bring them home for the soldiers. You can draw the money here in Warsaw on my account from the paymaster. Folojovsky lost no time in setting to work, drew the money, and that very day rode off with Zagloba to Zaborova, accompanied by ten men and a wagon to convey the money. They rode slowly, for the whole regiment this side of Warsaw was swarming with noblemen, servants, wagons, and horses. Every hamlet was so crowded on the road to Babits that every cabin was filled with guests. One might easily meet with an accident among this crowd of men of the most varied dispositions, and the two friends, in spite of their polite behavior, did not escape some adventure. When they reached Babits they noticed outside the inn several noblemen who were just mounting their horses in order to ride away. Both parties were just about to pass each other with a friendly salute when, suddenly, one of the riders spied Pan Michael and, without saying a word, sprang towards him on horseback. So here you are, little brother! He cried, you hid yourself, but I have found you! You will not escape me! Hey, gentlemen! To his comrades, wait a little! I have something to say to this little officer, and would like you to hear my words. Volodzowski smiled, for he had recognized Karlamp. God is my witness. I did not hide myself. He said, I was looking for you myself, to see if you were still cherishing your hatred against me, but we could not find each other. Pardon, Michael! whispered Zagloba. You are under orders! I remember, growled Volodzowski. Stand forth, shouted Karlamp. Gentlemen, I promise this youth, this beardless boy, that I would cut off his ears, and I will cut them off, as sure as my name is Karlamp. Yes, Karlamp! Be witnesses, gentlemen, and you, youngster, prepare to fight. I must not, as I love God. I must not. Allow me a few days' time. What? Can't? Coward! You are afraid! If you do not stand up on the instant, I will thrash you so that you will call on your grandmother and grandfather. Oh, you gadfly! You poisonous insect! You can get in a man's road and insult him and sting him with your tongue, but when it comes to a duel, you are not to be found. Here's a Globa, intervened. It seems to me, gentlemen, that you are dodging the question, he said to Karlamp. Look out, that this gadfly does not really sting you, for there no plaster will help you. Fight or the devil! Do you not see that this officer is under orders? Look at this wagon full of gold which we are taking to the regiment, and understand that he is guarding a treasure, and that you dare not injure his person, dare not touch him. Whoever cannot understand that must be a fool and no soldier. We are in the service of the voyeur-voter of Russia, and we don't fight with such fellows. Today it cannot be. Delay does not mean run away. That is really the case. If they are travelling with money, they dare not, said one of Karlamp's companions. What do I care for their money? screamed the furious Karlamp. Let him stand forth, or I will thrash him. I will not fight today, but on the word of a night, said Pan-Michael, I will meet you in three or four days, wherever you wish, as soon as my duties are at an end. And if you, gentlemen, are not satisfied with this promise, I will give the order to fire on you, for I shall believe that I am not dealing with noblemen, not even with soldiers, but with bandits. Choose, therefore, by all the devils, for I have no time to stand here." At Volodrovsky's last words, the escort of dragoons at once aimed their muskets at the assailants, and this movement, together with the decided words of Pan-Michael, made an evident impression upon Pan-Karlamp's comrades. Give in, they said to him, you are a soldier yourself and know what duty means, and it is certain that you will get satisfaction, for this is a bold fellow, like all the men of the Russian companies. Calm yourself, we beg you." Pan-Karlamp fumed for a few moments longer, and then he noticed that he should either make his comrades angry or force them into an unequal fight with the dragoons. So he turned to Volodrovsky and said, Promise me that you will meet me. I will look for you myself, if for no other reason, than because you have twice demanded it. In four days I shall be ready for you. This is Wednesday. Let it be Saturday afternoon at two o'clock. Choose the spot. There are too many people in Babitz, said Karlamp. There might be some unpleasantness. Let us meet here, near Lipki, for it is quieter and nearer for me, for my quarters are in Babitz. And will you gentlemen appear in full force? said Zagloba, the careful. Oh, that is unnecessary, said Karlamp. I will bring my two relations. Panschalitsky, you, sir, will also appear without your dragoons. It may be the custom with you to ride to a duel with a military escort, said Pan-Michael, with us it is not usual. Well, then in four days, on Saturday in Lipki, near the end, and now God be with us, said Karlamp. God be with us, answered Volodzhovsky and Zagloba. The adversaries parted peacefully. Pan-Michael was pleased at the idea of this approaching pastime and promised himself that he would take Karlamp's mustache, after cutting it off, as a present to Longin. They rode at a fair speed to Zaborona, where they found Prince Kazimir, who had come here for the hunting. But Pan-Michael only saw his future king at a distance, for he was in a hurry. In two days he had finished his affairs, chosen the horses, and having paid Pan-Chakovsky for them, returned to Warsaw and finished his journey by going to Lipki for the duel, accompanied by Zagloba and Pan-Kuchel, whom he had invited to be his seconds. They arrived in good time, a full hour before the event was to come off. When they reached the inn, which was kept by a Jew, they stepped inside to wet their throats with a little mead and converse over the glasses as they drank. "'Skrab is the landlord at home,' asked Zagloba, of the innkeeper. "'The master is in the town, and are there many noblemen here in Lipki? No, the place is almost empty. I have only one gentleman here. He is sitting in the parlour, a rich man with servants and horses. Why did he not go to the castle? Probably he does not know our lord. Besides, the castle has been closed for a month. Perhaps it is Karlamp,' said Zagloba. "'Now,' said Volodzovsky, "'what Pan-Michael, it seems to me that it is. What now?' "'I am going to see who it is. Jew has the gentleman been here long. He only arrived today. He has not been here quite two hours.' "'And do you not know where he comes from?' "'I do not know, but it must be from a long distance, for his horses are very tired,' the men say from the other side of the Vistula. "'Why did he come to Lipki? Who can tell?' "'I will see about it,' repeated Zagloba. "'Perhaps it is a friend, an acquaintance.' "'And, approaching the closed door of the parlour, he knocked with his fist and asked, "'May I come in, sir?' "'Who is there?' cried a voice from within. "'A friend,' said Zagloba, opening the door. "'Pardon, sir, perhaps I am disturbing you,' he added, sticking his head into the room. Suddenly he drew back, slammed the door as if he had seen death. On his face was depicted horror, mingled with utter astonishment, and with his mouth open he looked in bewilderment at Volodzovsky and Kuchel. "'What is the matter?' asked Volodzovsky. "'By Jesus' wounds keep still,' said Zagloba. "'Yonder, Bohun!' "'Who? What happened to you?' "'In there, Bohun!' Both officers sprang to their feet. "'Have you lost your senses? Think again, who is it?' "'Bohun! Bohun! It is not possible.' "'As true as I live, as true as I stand before you, I swear by God and all the saints!' "'Why are you so frightened?' said Volodzovsky. "'If he is here, God has given him into our hands. "'Calm yourself. Are you quite certain it is he?' "'As true as I am speaking, I saw him. He is dressing himself.' "'And did he see you?' "'I do not know. I think not.' Volodzovsky's eyes flashed like live coals. "'Jew!' he cried softly, waving his hand furiously. "'Come here. Does a second door lead into that room?' "'No, only the one into this room.' "'Kuschel, go to the window,' whispered Pan-Michael. "'Oh, now he will not escape us again.' "'Kuschel, without saying a word, hurried out of the room. "'Come to your senses,' said Volodzovsky. "'The sword does not hang over your neck but over ours. "'What can he do to you? Nothing.' "'I simply cannot recover from my astonishment,' answered Zagloba, and thought to himself, "'It is true. Why should I fear? Pan-Michael is with me. "'Let Bohan be afraid.' "'And assuming a fierce look, he grasped the hilt of his sword. "'Pan-Michael, he cannot escape us again.' "'I wonder if it is really he. I can hardly believe it. "'What could he be doing here?' "'Nitsky has sent him out as a spy. That is certain. "'We will catch him and give him his choice. "'Either he must give up the princess, "'or we will threaten to hand him over to justice.' "'If he would only give up the princess, devil take him. "'Sure, there are not too few of us. We too and Kushel the Third. He will defend himself like mad, and especially as he has some attendance with him. "'Karlamp will come with two men, then we shall be six, more than enough.' At this moment the door opened, and Bohan stepped into the room. He evidently had not seen Zagloba looking in at the door, for at sight of him he started. His face became crimson, and his hand flew like lightning to the hilt of his sword. But it was the work of a moment. The glow faded out of his face, and he became paler than usual. Zagloba looked at him and said nothing. The Ottoman also stood in silence. One could have heard the wings of a fly in the room, and these two men, whose fate was so strangely interwoven, acted at this moment as if they did not know each other. They stood thus for some moments. To Pan-Michael it seemed an eternity.' "'Jew!' said Bohan suddenly. "'Is it far from here to Zaborova?' "'No, it is not far,' answered the Jew. "'Is your lordship going to set out at once?' "'I am,' said Bohan, putting his foot on the step which separated his room from the end-parler. "'With your permission,' exclaimed Zagloba. The chieftain stood as if rooted to the spot, and turning to Zagloba fixed his black dreadful eyes on him. "'What do you wish?' he asked curtly. "'Why, it seems to me that we have met somewhere. Did we not see each other at that wedding at the farm in Russia?' "'We did,' said the chieftain proudly, placing his hand again on the hilt of his sword. "'How is your health?' asked Zagloba, "'for you rode away so hastily from the house that day that I did not even have time to take leave of you. And you were sorry?' "'Certainly I was sorry. We would have had a little dance. The company had become more numerous. Here is Zagloba pointed to Volojovsky. This cavalier had just arrived and wanted to make your acquaintance.' "'Enough of this,' cried Pan-Michael, suddenly springing forward, "'Treater, I arrest you.' "'And by what right?' asked the Ottoman, raising his hand proudly. "'Because you are a rebel, an enemy of the Commonwealth, and have come hither as a spy. "'And who the devil are you? Oh, I do not need to introduce myself, but you will not escape me. "'We shall see,' said Bohun. "'I would not hesitate to tell you who I am, sir, if you were to call me out with swords like a soldier. But as you threaten me with arrest, so let it be. See, here is a letter that I am bringing from the Hetman of the Zaporosians to Prince Kazimir. And as I did not find him in Mjeporinta, I am travelling to Zaporova to see him. How is that? Will you arrest me now?' Then Bohun looked proudly and disdainfully at Volojovsky, and Pan-Michael looked as embarrassed as a boarhound whose prey is about to escape. He knew not what to do, and turned his questioning glance on Zagloba. For a moment there was a deep silence. "'Ah!' said Zagloba, that will not help you. As you are an ambassador, we dare not arrest you, but you dare not meet this cavalier with your sword, for you fled before him once, and the earth fairly groaned.' Bohun's face became purple, for now he recognized Volojovsky. Shame and wounded pride overcame the fearless warrior, the remembrance of that fight burned like fire. It was the one indelible stain on his soldier's honor, which he prized more than his life, more than anything else. And the merciless Zagloba continued in a cold-blooded manner. "'Your trousers were flapping, and this cavalier took pity on you and gave you your life. Fry, Pan-Warrior, you have a woman's face, but also a woman's heart. You were courageous enough in presence of the old princess, and the boy princes, but before a night you play a different tune. Carrying letters, kidnapping girls, that is your business, but not making war. As true as I love God, with my own eyes I saw your trousers flapping. Fry, Fry, and even now you speak about the sword when you are carrying a letter. How can one fight with you when you hide yourself behind a letter? Sand in one's eyes, sand in one's eyes. Fry, Sir Cossack, Milnitsky is a good soldier. Zhivonos is good, but there are many cowards among the Cossacks.' Bohan suddenly sprang forward on Zagloba, who sprang just as quickly behind Volodzhovsky so that the two young knights stood face to face. "'I did not flee from you out of fear, but in order to save my soldiers,' said Bohan. "'I do not know why you fled. I only know that you did run away,' said Pan-Michael. "'I am ready to call you out, even at this very moment. Do you call me out?' Volodzhovsky asked, his eyes twinkling. "'You have robbed me of my soldier's honour. You have insulted me. I must have your blood.' "'Good,' said Volodzhovsky. "'For I am tain own fitting area. If they are willing, there is no harm,' said Zagloba. "'But who will take the letter to the Prince? Do not let your headache on that account. That is my affair.' "'Fight away, then, if it cannot be helped,' said Zagloba. "'If you chieftain have luck with this cavalier, remember I come in as second. "'And now, Pan-Michael, come into the hall. I have something of importance to say to you.' The two friends went out, calling Kuchel from the window of the parlor, and Zagloba said, "'Gentlemen, we are in a bad way. He has really a letter to the Prince. If we kill him, it is a criminal offence. Think of it. The chapter provede securiatim loci. Exercise is justice within a circuit of two miles, and this man is as good as an ambassador. A hard case. We shall be obliged to hide ourselves afterwards, or possibly the Prince might shelter us. Otherwise it might go hard with us. But again, if we let him go free, it is too worse. It is our only opportunity to free our poor girl. God evidently wishes to help her and Schetlskie. What shall we do? Let us consider, gentlemen.' "'You will certainly find a means,' said Kuchel. "'I have brought it as far as this, that he has called us out himself. But we need witnesses, strangers. My idea is that we should wait for Karlamp. I will take it upon myself to relinquish his right to come first. And if necessary to bear witness that we were challenged and had to defend ourselves. We must also find out particularly from Bohan where he has hidden the girl. If he should die, she would be of no use to him. Perhaps he will tell us, if we conjure him, and if he will not tell us, it is better that he should not live. We must move carefully and with consideration. My head is bursting, sirs. "'Who will fight with him?' asked Kuchel. "'Pan, Michael Frost, then I,' said Zagloba. "'And I will be the third. That must not be,' interrupted Pan Michael. I alone will fight him. If he cuts me down, that is his luck. Let him go off safe and sound. "'Oh, I told him that I would,' said Zagloba. "'But if you are determined, gentlemen, I will give it up.' "'Well, that is his own affair. If he wishes to fight you and no one else, shall we go to him?' "'Let us go.' They entered the room and found Bohun in the parlour drinking mead. The chieftain was perfectly calm. "'Listen, sir,' said Zagloba, "'for we wish to talk to you on important matters. You called out this cavalier, that is all right. But you must know that, as you come as an ambassador, the law protects you, for you are among civilized people and not among wild beasts. We cannot challenge you, but we ask you to acknowledge before witnesses that you challenged us of your own free will. Several noblemen are coming here, with whom we are to fight. You must explain this all to them. We, however, will give you our word, as knights, that if fortune favors you in your encounter with Volodyovsky, you may go free and know what will hinder you, unless you wish to try your luck with me.' "'Good,' said Bohun, "'I will explain it to the gentlemen, and will tell my servants that they shall deliver the letter and tell Mielnicki if I fall, that I myself gave the challenge, and if God gives me luck in recovering my lost honor with this knight, I will then request you to draw your sword.' As he said this, he looked into Zagloba's eyes, which much embarrassed the noblemen, who coughed and spat on the floor and answered, "'Good, when you have tried your luck with my pupil, you will know what task lies before you, but that is a secondary matter. There is another more important point, with regard to which we will appeal to your conscience, for although you are a cossack, we wish to treat you as a knight. You have kidnapped Princess Elena Kudziewicz, the betrothed of our companion in arms and our friend, and are hiding her away. Now if we should call you out on that account, it would matter not that Mielnicki had made you an ambassador, for this is abduction, a capital offense, which would be very soon dealt with. But as you are going to fight and may probably be killed, consider what would happen to this poor girl if you should fall. Do you, who love her so much, desire her shame and unhappiness, must she be deprived of protection, be given over to shame and misfortune? Do you wish even after your death to be an executioner?' Here's a Glober's voice became unusually serious. Bohan grew pale and said, "'What do you want me to do?' Tell us where she is imprisoned, so that in case of your death we may find her and take her back to her betrothed. God will have mercy on your soul if you will do this.' The chieftain buried his face in his hands and became absorbed in thought. The three friends noted carefully each change in that mobile countenance, which had suddenly assumed an expression of such deep sadness that one might have thought that anger, fury, or any other cruel feeling had never been reflected there, but that this man had been created only for love and tenderness. The silence lasted some time, until Zagloba's voice broke it, saying, "'But if you have already wronged her, may God damn you, and may she at last find refuge in a convent?' Bohan raised his sad moist eyes and said, "'If I have wronged her, see here! I do not know how you gentlemen of the nobility you knights and cavaliers love. But I am a Cossack. I preserved her from death and shame in bar, and then took her into the wilds and watched her as the eye of my head. I have not touched a hair of her head, but have fallen at her feet and bowed my forehead to the ground before her as before an image. She told me to go away. I went and have not seen her since, for my mother, war, has kept me a prisoner. "'God will reward you for that on the last day,' said Zagloba, sighing deeply, "'but is she perfectly safe there? Xivonos and the Tatars are there. Xivonos has encamped near Cominates, and sent me to Miannitsky to ask if he should go to Kudak. He has probably gone, and where she is there are neither Cossacks, Poles, nor Tatars. She is safe there.' "'Where is she then?' "'Listen, gentlemen, Poles, let it be as you say. I will tell you where she is, and will allow her to be given up to you. But in return for this, give me your word as knights that, if God helps me, you will not look for her. Promise me this on your own account, as well as for Skashetysky, and then I will tell you.' The three friends looked at one another. "'We cannot do that,' said Zagloba. "'Nobody are so we cannot,' cried Kuchel and Volodrovsky. "'Indeed,' said Bohan, knitting his brows and his eyes flashing, why can you not do that, gentlemen? "'Because Skashetysky is not here. Besides, you must know that no one of us will cease to search for her, even though you have buried her beneath the ground. This, then, is the kind of way you wish to deal with me. Thou, Cossack, give thy soul, and we will pay thee for it with the sword. Oh, you cannot do that. Do you think perhaps that my sword is not made of steel, that you can already croak over me like crows over carrion? Must it be I that fall and not you? You demand my blood. I seek yours. We will see who has the most luck.' "'Then you will not tell us. What should I say more? Death and destruction to you all.' "'Death and destruction to you yourself! You deserve to be cut to pieces.' "'Try it,' said the chieftain, suddenly rising to his feet. Kuchel and Volodrovsky also sprang to their feet. Threatening glances were exchanged. The angry breasts heaved more quickly, and who knows what would have happened if Zagloba, who was looking out of the window, had not called out, "'Call lamp is coming with his seconds!' In a few moments the light cavalry captain, with two companions, Panchaelitsky, stepped into the room. After the first greeting, Zagloba took him aside and began to explain the matter to them. And he was so plausible that he persuaded them to wait, especially by assuring them that Panvalodrovsky requested only a short delay, and would be ready as soon as he should have finished with the Cossack. And then Panza-Globa explained the terrible hatred that all the Prince's soldiers had long cherished for Bohun, that he was an enemy of the whole Commonwealth, and one of the most dreaded rebels, and last but not least, that he had stolen the Princess, a young lady belonging to a noble house and the betrothed of a nobleman who was a model of nightly virtue. "'And as you, sirs, belong to the nobility, and count yourselves among the brotherhood of companions in arms, the insult should be felt by all of us, as any injury to one is felt by the whole brotherhood. Would you suffer it that she should go unavenged?' Pancarlamp demured at first, and said that if this was the case, it was fitting that they should fight Bohun on the spot. And Panvalodrovsky, as previously arranged, can meet me. Zagloba had to explain to him why this could not be, and that it was not nightly for so many to attack one man. Fortunately the two Panchaelitsky agreed with him, as they were both steady, sensible men, and at length the obstinate Lithuanian let himself be persuaded and agreed to delay. During this time Bohun had gone to his men and returned with Sergeant Eliashenko. He told him that he had challenged two noblemen to a duel, which he repeated aloud in presence of Carlamp and the two Shalitsky's. "'But we wish to say,' said Panvalodrovsky, that if you are the victor it will depend on yourself whether you fight with Panza Globa, or no account shall one of the others challenge you. You shall also not be attacked by this crowd of men, but may go away wither you will, on our word as knights, and I beg you, gentlemen, who have just arrived, to make the same promise on your part.' "'We promise,' said Carlamp and the two Shalitsky's solemnly.' Bohun now handed Mielnitsky's letter to the Prince, to Eliashenko, and said, "'Give this writing to the Crown Prince, and if I die tell him and Mielnitsky that it was my own fault and that I was not killed by traitors.' Zagloba, who was observing everything, remarked that Eliashenko's earnest face betrayed not the slightest uneasiness. One saw that he had perfect confidence in his Ataman's skill. Meanwhile Bohun, turning proudly to the noblemen, said, "'Well, who is to die and who is to live? Let us go.' "'It is time, it is time,' they all said, tucking their coats into their belts, and carrying their swords under their arms. They went out of the inn and towards the river which flowed between thickets of bramble, wild roses, flags, and young pine trees. October had scattered the leaves, but the bushes grew so closely that they extended like a gray veil across the desert prairie, far away to the forests. The day was cloudy, but there was that peculiar mixture of sadness and cheerfulness which is seen only in the beauty of an autumn day. The sun tinged with gold the branches of the trees and lighted up the yellow sand-hills, which stretched along the right bank of the stream. The duelers and their seconds went toward these sand-hills. "'We will stop here,' said Zagloba. "'Agreed,' they all answered. Zagloba's uneasiness increased, and at last he approached Volodzhovsky and whispered, "'Pan Michael!' "'What is it?' "'For God's sake, Pan Michael, do your best. Skishtelsky's fate lies in your hands, the freedom of the princess, your own life, and mine, for may God prevent it. But if you should be unlucky, I know of nothing that will save me from this murderer.' "'Why did you call him out, then?' "'The word is spoken. I depended upon you, Pan Michael, for I am getting old. My breath is short and I am clumsy, and this rascal can bound like a cricket. He is a rascally hound, Pan Michael.' "'I will do my best,' said the little knight. "'May God be with you. Do not lose your presence of mind.' "'Why should I?' "'At this moment one of the Pan's Skishtelsky's approached. "'Your Cossack is a queer fellow,' he whispered. "'He acts as if he were our equal or even better than we are. He has a sense of chivalry. His mother must have looked at a nobleman.' "'Eh!' said Zagloba. "'More probably a nobleman looked at his mother.' "'That is what I think,' said Volodzhovsky. "'Let us take position,' said Bohan, suddenly. "'Stop here.' "'Let us take position. Let us take position.' They took position, the nobles in a semi-circle, and Volodzhovsky and Bohan opposite one another. Volodzhovsky, with an air of experience in such matters which belied his youth, tried the ground with his foot to see if it was hard enough, then he looked about him to take in all the inequalities of the ground, and it was evident that he took the matter seriously. He had to settle with a knight, the most celebrated in the Ukraine, in whose honor popular songs were sung, and whose name was known to the extremist limits of Russia, even to the Crimea. Pan-Michael, a simple lieutenant of dragoons, counted a great deal on this duel, as he would either meet with a glorious death or an equally glorious victory. He therefore omitted nothing that might render him worthy of such an opponent. His face consequently became so earnest that Zagloba, when he noticed it, was fairly frightened. He is losing courage, he thought. It is all up with him, as it is with me. Volodzhovsky, after investigating the ground thoroughly, unbuttoned his coat. It is cool, he said, but we shall be warm enough soon. Bohan followed his example. They both took off their coats and stood in their shirt sleeves, with the right sleeve turned back. But how small little Pan-Michael looked beside the tall, powerful Ataman! One could hardly see him. His seconds looked uneasily at the Cossack's broad chest and powerful muscles which appeared under the turned back sleeve, looking like knotted cords. It was as though a little bantam should undertake to fight with an enormous hawk of the steps. Bohan's nostrils were distended, as if they smelt blood. His face appeared to be drawn up so that the black locks over his forehead almost reached his eyebrows. His sword twitched in his hand. The fierce eyes seemed to pierce through his opponent. He awaited the signal. And Volodzhovsky held up his bare sword to the light once more, tugged at his yellow mustache, and took his position. It will be a regular butchery, growled Karlamp Tuchelitsky. Then Zagloba's voice said, rather unsteadily, In the name of God, begin! The sword swished through the air and blade clashed blade. They soon changed their ground, for Bohan attacked so furiously that Panvolodzhovsky was obliged to spring back a few steps, and his seconds did the same. Bohan's strokes fell like lightning and the excited beholders could not follow them with their eyes. It seemed to them as though Pan Michael was completely surrounded and covered with sword thrusts, and that God alone could save him from this attack. There was continuous swishing of swords, which fairly disturbed the air as though a wind were blowing in their faces. The fury of the chieftain increased. He was possessed with the madness of battle, and drove Volodzhovsky before him like a hurricane. The little knight continued to retreat and to defend himself. His outstretched right arm hardly moved, the wrist alone describing small but rapid semicircles quick as thought as he warded Bohan's wild strokes. He caught each stroke parried it, again guarded, and retreated at the same time, fixing his eyes on those of the Cossack, and remaining perfectly calm in the midst of the serpentine lightning strokes, only on his cheeks were two red spots. Zagloba shut his eyes and listened to stroke upon stroke, clash upon clash. He is still defending himself, he thought. He is still defending himself, whispered the two Shalitsky's and Carlamp. He is already driven to the bank, added Kuchel softly. Zagloba opened his eyes again and looked up. Volodzhovsky's back was against the bank, but he did not appear to be wounded, and his face only grew redder, and a few drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. Zagloba's heart beat with hope. Pen Michael is a fighter of fighters, he thought, and the other man will finally become exhausted. Bohan's face grew pale, sweat covered his forehead, but his opponent's resistance only increased his rage. His white teeth gleamed beneath his mustache and a growl of anger escaped him. Volodzhovsky never took his eye off him and continued to guard. Suddenly, feeling the bank beside him, he pulled himself together. His seconds thought he was about to fall, but he bent forward, crouched, and threw himself like a stone at the breast of the Cossack. He is attacking, cried Zagloba. He is attacking, repeated the others. It was really the case. Now the chieftain retreated, and the little knight, who had found out the whole strength of his opponent, pressed on him with so much energy that his seconds gasped for breath. He was evidently becoming excited. The little eyes flashed fire. Again he crouched and again sprang forward, changing his position at every moment, describing circles around the chieftain and forcing him to turn round constantly. An adept, an adept! cried Zagloba. You are lost! said Bohun suddenly. You are lost! answered Volodzhovsky like an echo. Here the Cossack used a trick which was only known to the most practised fighters. He suddenly changed his sword from the right to the left hand and made such a powerful stroke that Pan Michael fell to the earth as though struck by lightning. Jesus Maria! cried Zagloba. But Pan Michael had fallen intentionally, and Bohun's sword cut through the empty air. The little knight at once sprang up like a wildcat, and slashed with almost the whole length of his sword across the breast of the Cossack. Bohun tottered, took a step forward, and with an effort gave a last blow which Pan Bolodzhovsky parried with ease. Twice he struck his opponent's bowed head, and the sword dropped from Bohun's powerless hands and the warrior fell on his face in the sand, which presently became a wide pool of blood beneath him. El Yashanka, who had been present at the fight, threw himself upon the body of the ottoman. The seconds were unable to speak a word for some time, and Pan Michael also was silent. He leaned both hands on his sword and panted heavily. Zagloba was the first to break the silence. Pan Michael, come to my arms, he said in an unsteady voice. They all surrounded him. You are a fighter of the first rank. May the balls strike you? said Pan Shalitsky. I see you are a tough knot, said Karlamp. I will stand up with you so that no one may say I was afraid, but if you should punish me like that I should still say I congratulate you, I congratulate you. Let that go, gentlemen, for to tell the truth you really have no good reason to fight, said Zagloba. That will not do, for it is a question of my reputation, said the light cavalryman, for which I would willingly sacrifice my head. I care nothing about your head, but let us give it up, said Bolodzhovsky, for I am really not standing in your way as you think. There is another in the case who is more fortunate than I. How so? On the word of a knight. Make it up! cried the Shalitskys and Kuchel. Let it be so! said Karlamp, holding out his arms. Bolodzhovsky threw himself into the outstretched arms and they kissed one another till the banks re-echoed, and Karlamp remarked, I had no idea that you could give that giant such a beating, and yet he understood how to wield a sword. I never would have believed him to be such a swordsman. Where can he have learned it? Here the general attention was directed to the prostrate form of the Cossack chieftain. Ayashanka had turned his master over so that his face was upturned, and he looked with tears for any sign of life. Bohan's face was not recognizable for it was covered with blood, which flowed from the wounds in the head and congealed in the cool air. The shirt on his breast was also soaked with blood, but he still gave signs of life. He was evidently in the death convulsion. His feet twitched and his hands were clenched and dug in the sand. Zagloba looked at him and motioned with his hand. He has had enough, he said. He is taking leave of the world. Ah! said one of the Sholetskis, looking at the body. He is quite dead. He is almost hacked through and through. He was not a bad knight, murmured Bolodzhovsky, shaking his head. I have something to say about that, added Zagloba. During this time Ayashanka was trying to lift the unfortunate Ataman to carry him away. But as he was no longer young and strong, and Bohan was almost a giant, he was unable to do it. It was some furlongs to the end, and Bohan might expire at any moment. When the sergeant saw this, he turned to the gentleman. Gentlemen! he cried, folding his hands. Help me, for God and the Holy Virgin's sake! Do not let him die here like a dog. An old man like me cannot manage it alone, and there is no one near. The gentleman looked at one another, their hatred for Bohan had vanished from all hearts. True, it is not fitting that we should leave him here like a dog, murmured Zagloba. As we fought a duel with him, we can no longer consider him a peasant, but as a soldier who needs assistance, who will help me to carry him, gentlemen. I, said Bolodzhovsky, carry him on my cloak, added Karlamp. In a few minutes Bohan was placed on the cloak at either end of which was Zagloba, Bolodzhovsky, Kishel, and Eliashanka, and the procession moved with slow steps towards the end, accompanied by Karlamp and the two Shalitskis. He has a strong hold on life, said Zagloba. He is still moving. Good God, if anyone had told me that I should be his nurse and carry him as I am doing now, I would have laughed. What a fool I am. I have a very tender heart, I know, but it cannot be helped. I will wind up his wounds once again. I hope that we shall never meet again in this world, and I want him to have a pleasant remembrance of me and the other. Do you really think, then, that he will not recover? asked Karlamp. He recover! I would not give an old rag for his life. It was so ordained and can't be changed. Even if he had escaped from Bolodzhovsky's hands, he would not have got away from me. But I am glad it happened as it has, for I am already looked upon as a slayer without mercy. What can I do if anyone puts himself in my way? I had to pay Pan Dunchevsky five hundred gold-zlatos in demnity, and you all know that the Russian property does not bring in any income at present. That is true. They have completely plundered you over there, said Karlamp. Oh, this classic is heavy, said Zagloba. I am quite out of breath, plundered. I should say they had plundered, but I hope that the diet will make some provision for us. If it does not, we shall all starve to death. How heavy he is! How heavy! Look, his wounds are beginning to bleed again. Pan Karlamp run to the inn and tell the Jew to need up some bread and cobwebs. It is true it will not be of much use to a dead man, but it is our Christian duty to staunch the wounds. He will die more easily. Lively, Pan Karlamp! Pan Karlamp ran ahead, and as soon as they had finally brought Bohan into the room of the inn, Zagloba set to work to bandage him with great skill and deafness. He staunched the blood, closed the wounds, and then, turning to Aliashenka, said, You old man are no longer needed here. Ride speedily to Zaborova and in treat that they will allow you to see the leader at once. Give him the letter and relate all that you witnessed, just as you saw it. If you lie, I shall find it out, for I am the confidant of the illustrious prince, and I will have your head chopped off. Greet Melnitsky from me, for he knows and loves me. We will give the Ottoman honourable burial, and you attend to your business. Do not wander out of your way, for someone may kill you before you have time to find out who it is. God be with you. Go, go! Permit me, sir, to wait until he is perfectly cold. Go, I tell you, said Zagloba angrily. If not, I will have you given up to the peasants in Zaborova, and greet Melnitsky for me. Aliashenka bowed low and went out. Zagloba, however, said to Karlamp and the Shalitskys, I sent away the Cossack he had nothing to do here, and if he should be killed, as may easily happen, they would blame us. These are Slavskys, and the Chancellor's Mongrels will be the first to cry out that the Prince's men, contrary to God's commands, have murdered the whole Cossack Embassy. But a clever head is of use in all emergencies. We will not let ourselves be pounded into grits by these fools, these barley-porigeters, and you gentlemen, give your testimony, should it be necessary, and tell how everything happened, and that he himself called us out. I must also give orders to the bailiff here to have him buried somewhere. No one here knows who he is, and they will think he is a nobleman and bury him with honors. It is time to set out, Pan-Michael, for we must bring word to the Prince via Voda. The death-rattle in Bohan's throat interrupted Zagloba's speech. Oh, the soul is seeking its way, said the nobleman. It is growing dark already. He will find the darkness in the other world. But as he has not wronged our poor girl, may God grant him everlasting rest. Amen. Let us mount, Pan-Michael. I forgive him everything from my whole heart, although in truth I got more in his way than he did in mine. But now this is the end. Farewell, sirs. I am pleased to have met such noble knights. Do not forget to give your testimony, should it be necessary. Yeremi received the news of Bohan's death with indifference, especially when he learned that men who did not belong to his regiments were ready to bear witness that Volodzhovsky had been challenged. If the affair had not taken place a few days before it was publicly announced that Yan Kazimir had been chosen, if the struggle of the two candidates, Yeremi's opponents, with the Chancellor and Prince Dominic at their head, had still been going on, they would have made of this circumstance a weapon against him, in spite of all witnesses and all testimony. But after Charles's withdrawal, men's minds were otherwise engaged, and probably the whole event would be completely forgotten. Mielnitsky might possibly make use of it to show that he had again suffered an injustice, but the Prince expected rightly that the king's son, in answering the letter, would also point out the manner in which his ambassador had come to his death, and Mielnitsky would not dare question the royal word. The Prince was particularly anxious that his soldiers should not be brought into any political difficulty. He rejoiced on Skyshettsky's account that this had happened, for the recovery of the young Prince's Kurtsevich was now much more possible and practicable. She might be found, freed, or rescued, and no matter at what cost the Prince would spare nothing, not even the greatest cost, to release the sorrow of his favourite night, and to give him back his happiness. Volodzhovsky had gone to the Prince in fear and trembling, for, though in general he was no coward, he feared the Prince's frown as he feared fire. How great then was his astonishment and joy, when, after receiving his message and reflecting for a few moments, the Prince drew a costly ring from his finger and said, I esteem yourself restraint, gentlemen, for if you had been the first to attack him great and serious trouble might have resulted in the assembly, and if the Princess is found, Skyshettsky will owe you everlasting gratitude. I hear that you, Volodzhovsky, cannot keep your sword in its sheath as some cannot restrain their tongue, and you deserve a penalty on that account, but as you acted in the interests of your friends and maintained the reputation of our regiments in a duel with such a well-known warrior, take this ring in remembrance of the day. I knew that you were a good soldier and swordsman, but I hear that you are a master of masters. He, cried Zagloba, he would cut off the Devil's horns in the third round. If your highness should ever wish to cut off my head, may I entreat that no other than he should be given the task, for I know my transit to the other world would be rapid. He cut Bohun twice across the breast and then gave him two strokes on the brain box. The Prince loved nightly deeds and good soldiers, so he smiled pleasantly and asked, have you ever found anyone who equals you with the sword? Once Kishetosky wounded me slightly, but I also wounded him. At the time your highness put us in the tower. Among others, Pan Podby Pienta would be a match for me, for he has superhuman strength, and even perhaps Kuchel if he had better eyes. Do not believe him, your highness, said Zagloba. No one can withstand him. Did Bohun defend himself long? I had hard work with him, said Pan Michael. He knew how to fight with his left hand. Bohun told me himself, interrupted Zagloba, that he spent whole days practicing with the Kutsviches, and I saw him practicing with others in Chagrin. Do you know what Pan Volodrovsky, said the Prince with pretended earnestness, supposing you ride to Zalmost, call out Mielnitsky to fight with swords and, with one stroke, deliver the commonwealth from all its sorrow and misery. If your highness commands I will go, if Mielnitsky will only fight with me, entered Volodrovsky. The prince replied, We are joking, while the world is going to ruin, but you really must ride to Zalmost, gentlemen. I have word from the Cossack camp, that as soon as Prince Kazimir's election is announced, Mielnitsky will raise the siege and retreat to Russia. He does this either from real or pretended interest to the king, or because his forces might be easily routed at Zalmost. So you must go there and tell Skyshettsky what has happened, and that he must look for the princess. Tell him that he may take as many men as he needs for his expedition from our regiment under the starosta of Valet's command, and I will grant him leave and a safe conduct which you will take to him, for I am deeply interested in his happiness. Your highness is a father to all of us, said Volodrovsky, and we will serve you faithfully to the end of our days. I do not know if my following may not diminish before long, said the prince, if all my possessions in the Nepoland are lost, but as long as they last what is mine is yours. Oh, cried Pan-Michael, our poor property will always be your highness's property, and take mine with the rest, said Zagloba. I do not need it as yet, said the prince graciously. Besides, I hope that even if I should lose everything, the Commonwealth will take care of my children. The prince spoke these words in a moment of clairvoyance of what might come to pass. Some ten years later the Commonwealth gave his only son the best that it had to offer, the crown, but at the present time the prince's gigantic fortune had decreased considerably. Well, we got out of it finally, said Zagloba, after he and Volodrovsky had left the prince. Pan-Michael, you are sure a promotion. Let me see the ring. By God it is worth a hundred zlotas, Florence. The stone is very beautiful. Let us ask an Armenian in the bazaar about it tomorrow. One could carouse for its value in eating and drinking and other delights. What do you say, Pan-Michael? That as a soldier's maxim, live today, perish tomorrow, and the meaning is that it does not pay to think of tomorrow. Man's life is short, very short, Pan-Michael. The most important thing is, however, that from now on the prince has taken you to his heart. He would have given ten times as much to have made Skashetovsky a present of Bohun, and you have done it. Believe me, you are on the high road to promotion. Has not the prince given villages in life tenure to his knights, or even given them out and out? A ring is of no value. He will certainly give you something else, and probably marry you at last to one of his relations. Pan-Michael almost jumped. How do you know that? That what? I only meant what notion have you got in your head. How could such a thing come to pass? Does not everything come to pass? Are you not a noble, and are not all nobles equal? Have not all the magnets distant cousins among the nobility, and do they not give them in marriage to their favorite attendants? Has not the Sufshinsky in Siege a distant relation of the Vishnovyatsky for a wife? They are all brothers, Pan-Michael, all brothers, even if one serves another. For we are all descended from Japheth, and the whole distinction in rank and riches depends on whether you can obtain them or not. It is said that in other places there are considerable differences in rank among the nobility, but that is a mangy nobility. I understand differences between dogs, as, for instance, setters greyhounds and bloodhounds by their voice in hunting. But consider, Pan-Michael, with the nobility it is not so, or we should all be hounds and not nobles, which disgrace to our noble condition our good Lord does not permit. You are right, sir, said Volodzhovsky, but the Vishnovyatsky are almost of royal blood. And you, Pan-Michael, might not you be chosen for king? I should be the first to insist on nominating you, like Pan-Zygmuntzkoshchevsky, who swears that he would elect himself if he were not a dicer. Everything with us, thank God, is by free suffrages, and our poverty alone, not our birth, stands in our way. That's just what it is, said Pan-Michael. What is to be done? They have robbed us completely, and we shall be completely ruined, if the diet does not give us some help, utterly ruined. Is it any wonder that a man who is naturally abstemious should take to drinking under such circumstances? Come, Pan-Michael, let us drink a glass of beer, perhaps that will comfort us somewhat. During this conversation they had reached the old town and stepped into a wine-room, before which stood several boys, holding the furs and cloaks of their masters, who were drinking inside. They sat down at a table, ordered a bottle, and considered what it was best to do, now that Bohan was dead. If it is true that Melnitsky is raising the siege of Zamosd, and there will be peace, the princess is ours, said Zagloba. We must go as soon as possible to Skyshetelsky. We will not leave him again until we have found the princess. We will go together, but now it is impossible to reach Zamosd. That makes no difference if God only helps us later. Zagloba emptied his glass. He will help us, he will help us, he said. Listen, Pan-Michael, to what I tell you. What is it? Bohan is dead. Folojavsky looked up in astonishment. Who knows that better than I do? You deserve all credit, Pan-Michael. You know it, and I know it. I watched you fighting. I see you now, and, nevertheless, I have to repeat it to myself, for sometimes it seems as if it were only a dream. What an anxiety is removed! What a knot your sword has cut! May the ball strike you! By God, it is incredible! No, I cannot stand it any longer. Let me embrace you once more, little Michael. Believe me, when I first met you, I thought to myself, a little creature, and see what a fine creature it is that has beaten Bohan. Bohan lives no longer. No, not a trace. No ashes left. Kills. Dead. Forever and ever. Amen. Here Zagloba put his arms around Volojavsky and kissed him, and Pan-Michael was moved to tears as though he were mourning Bohan. Finally he managed to free himself from Zagloba's arms and said, We did not see him die, and he is a tough fellow, supposing he should get well. For God's sake, what do you mean? Said Zagloba, I am ready to ride tomorrow to Lipky to order him the most splendid funeral if he is only dead. And what good would that do? You would not kill a wounded man? It is often so with sword wounds. If a man does not give up the ghost at once, he generally creeps out of it somehow. The sword is not like a bullet. No, it is impossible. The death-rattle was beginning as we rode away. Oh, no, it is impossible. His breast was cut open like the door of a shed. Let him rest. You cut him as if he were a hare. We must go to Skashtowsky as soon as possible to help him and comfort him, for he is worrying himself to death. Oh, he has gone into a monastery, as he told me himself. No wonder. I should do the same thing in his place. I know no cavalier who is more worthy than he, but none who is more unhappy. Oh, God is proving him severely, very severely. Stop there, sir, said Volojovsky, who was a little drunk, for I cannot keep from tears. And how can I then, answered Zagloba, such an honorable knight, such a soldier, and then the girl. You do not know her. She is a dear little worm. Here Zagloba began to bellow in a deep base, for he loved the little princess very dearly, and Pan Michael accompanied him in a somewhat higher key, and they drank wine mixed with tears, and their heads sank on their breasts. They sat for some time in gloomy silence. At length Zagloba brought his fist down on the table. Pan Michael, why do we weep, Bohan is slain? That is true, said Volojovsky. We ought rather to rejoice. What fools we are not to go and look for her at once. Let us start at once, said Volojovsky, standing up. Let us drink, said Zagloba. God grant that we may yet hold her children over the font, and all that because we have killed Bohan. It serves him right, ended Pan Michael, who did not remark that Zagloba was already sharing the fame of Bohan's death. At length the Tedeim Lordamas sounded in the cathedral in Warsaw, and the king was enthroned in his majesty. The cannon thundered, the bells rang, and confidence was restored to all hearts. Now at last the time of interregnum, disputes, and unrest was over, which had been so terrible for the Commonwealth, especially as it happened at a time of general misery. Those who had trembled at the thought of the approaching dangers now breathed freely, as the election had passed more quietly than any had dared to hope. Many believed that the unexampled civil war was now over, once for all, and that all that remained for the newly chosen king was to sentence the guilty ones. Mielnicki's attitude also confirmed this hope. The Cossacks, who were obstinately besieging the fortress of Zamos, declared as one man for Jan Kazimir. Mielnicki sent by Provost Hunzl-Morsky letters full of assurances of submission and fealty, and by other messengers, humble in treaties for himself and the Zaporosian armed. It was also known that the king, in accord with the policy of the Chancellor Osolinsky, wished to make important concessions to the Cossacks. As before the defeat of Pilavets the world war had been in everyone's mouth, now everyone spoke of peace. It was expected that after so much misfortune the Commonwealth would breathe freely, and that all her wounds would be healed under the new regime. Finally Shnorovsky went with a letter from the king to Mielnicki, and soon after the joyful news was spread abroad that the Cossacks had left Zamos and were going to the Ukraine, where they would quietly await the commands of the king, and a commission which should investigate the wrongs of which they complained. It seemed to all as though a seven-hued rainbow, promising peace and quiet, over-arched the land after a storm. Indeed evil prophecies and forebodings were not wanting, but in face of the happy reality no great importance was attached to them. The king travelled to Chens de Hove to thank the heavenly intercessor for his election, and to place himself under her further protection, and then he went to Krakow for the coronation. The royal officials followed in his train, and Warsaw was deserted. The refugees from Russia alone remained behind, as they did not dare to return to their ruined property, or perhaps had none. Prince Yeremi, as a senator of the Commonwealth, was obliged to go with the king, but Volodzhovsky and Zagloba, at the head of a Dragoon regiment, went by forced marches to Zamos in order to announce to Skyshettsky the joyful news of Bohan's death, and then to set out with him to look for the princess. Zagloba left Warsaw not without a certain sadness, for he was as happy as a fish in the sea among this enormous crowd of noblemen, amid the noise of the election, and the uninterrupted carousing and quarreling in company with Volodzhovsky. But he was comforted by the thought that he was returning to an active life, to adventures and intrigues which he was planning, besides he had his own opinion of the dangers of the capital, which he explained to Volodzhovsky in the following manner. It is true, Pan-Michael, that we have done great things in Warsaw, but God preserve us from remaining there too long. I tell you we should have become effeminate like those celebrated Carthaginians who were completely ruined by the innovating life in Kapua, and the worst of all are the women, they lead one to destruction, for mark you there is nothing more dangerous than a woman, I am already old and yet they tried to attract me. Never mind that, interrupted Volodzhovsky, I often said to myself that it is time to get some sense, but I am so warm blooded. You have more phlegm, but I am choleric. But that is a secondary matter, we are now going to begin another life. There have been times when I was unhappy without war. Our regiment is in good condition, and nears our most there are enough rioters. We can amuse ourselves with them on the way to the princess. We will then find Skashetosky and that giant, that little weiny and crane, that hop-pulp and longing, for we have not seen him for a long time. You long to see him, and yet when you see him you do not give him any peace, because when he speaks it is as when your horse moves his tail and he stretches out every word as a shoemaker does a piece of leather. It is all strength with him, not intelligence. When he embraces anyone he squeezes his ribs to the skin, but on the other hand there is not a child in the common wealth who could not hang him up on a hook. Is it not absurd that a man of such fortune should be so stupid? Is he really so rich? He? When I first met him he had a belt that was so full of money he could not fasten it, and dragged it about with him like a sausage. You might hit it with a stick and it would not bend. He told me himself how many villages he possessed, but who could remember all their heathenish names? He owns half a district. It is a great family among the soup-swellers, the family of the podbypienta. Are you not over-colouring it somewhat? I am not, for I am repeating only what he told me himself, and he never told a lie in his life, for any way he is too stupid to tell a lie. Well then Anousio will be in the fullest sense of the word princess. But as for his stupidity I do not agree with you at all. He is a reticent man and so sensible that no one can give better counsel in an emergency. He is no rascal, but God has given to very few such a fluent tongue as you have. That cannot be denied. He is a great knight and the noblest of men. The best proof of it is that you yourself love him and like to see him. He is a scourge of God, growls a glober. The only reason I want to see him is that I like to roast him about Panna Anna. I would not advise you to do that, for it might be dangerous. One can amuse oneself at his expense, but in this case he would lose patience. Let him lose it. I will cut off his ears as I did Donchevsky's. Let it alone, sir. I would not advise my worst enemy to try it. Cut her title. Let me only see him. Zagloba's wish was fulfilled sooner than he expected. When they reached Conscovoly, Volajovsky determined to rest, for the horses were very tired. Who can describe the astonishment of the two friends when, on entering the dark hall of the inn, the first person they met was the nobleman, Pan Podbepienta. How are you, sir? It is a long time since I saw you, said Zagloba. So the Cossacks in Zamos did not cut you to pieces. Podbepienta embraced one after the other with both arms and kissed them on the cheeks. Oh, it is good to see you again, he said joyously. Where are you going? asked Volajovsky. To Warsaw to the Prince. The Prince is not in Warsaw. He has gone to Krakow with the King to carry the orb before him at the coronation. And Pan Veya has sent me to Warsaw with a letter, and to find out where the Prince's regiments are going, for thank God they are no longer needed in Zamos. You do not need to go there, for we are bringing commands. Pan Longan was annoyed. He had wished with his whole heart to see the Prince, the court, and especially a certain little person at this court. Zagloba went meaningly at Volajovsky. Well, then I will go to Krakow, he said, after a short pause. I received orders to deliver the letter, and I will do so. Let us go into the room and warm ourselves with some beer, said Zagloba. And where are you going? asked Longan. To Zamos, to Skacetowsky. The lieutenant is not in Zamos. Old woman, here's a cake. Where is he then? Somewhere near Korosz. He is scattering groups of peasantry. Mielnitsky retreated, but his officers are burning and plundering on the road. The starosta avalets has sent Pan Jacob Rogovsky to scatter them. And Skacetowsky is with them? Yes, but they are going separately, for there are great differences between them, of which I will tell you later. They had entered the room, Zagloba ordered three pots of beer to be heated, and approaching the table at which Longan and Volajovsky were already seated, he said, You do not yet know the greatest and most joyful news, Pan Porbypienta. The news that we, I and Pan Michael, have killed Bohan. The Lithuanian almost jumped from the bench in his astonishment. My old dear brothers, can that be? As true as we are both alive. And the two of you killed him? We did? That is news indeed. Oh, God, God, said the Lithuanian, clapping his hands. You say you both killed him, how could you both do it? In this way, I managed by craft to bring him to such a pass that he challenged us. Do you understand? Upon which Pan Michael fought him and cut him up like an Easter-sucking pig. He laid him out like a roast capon. Do you understand? Then you did not both fight him. Now look here, said Zagloba, you must have been bled and your understanding have become weakened. Do you think I could fight with a dead man or slay one already down? But you said you both fought him. Zagloba shrugged his shoulders. One must have the divine patience with this man. Pan Michael did not Bohan call us both out. He did, said Volodrovsky. Now do you understand? Well, let it be. Answered Longin, Skyshettsky looked for Bohan near Zamosk, but he was not there any longer. How do you mean that Skyshettsky looked for him? I see that I must tell you everything from the beginning just as it happened, said Longin. We remained, as you know, in Zamosk and you went to Warsaw. We did not have to wait long for the Cossacks. They came in enormous crowds from Lemberg. One could not see the end of them from the walls. But our prince has provided for Zamosk so well that it can hold out for two years. We began to believe that they would not storm the fortress and were very sorry on that account, for we were all looking forward to their defeat. As there were all so tartars among them, I hoped that the merciful God would give me my three heads. Pray for one and not a good one, answered Zagloba. Or you are the same as ever, sir. That does not sound well, said the Lithuanian. Well, we thought that they would not storm the town, but they were almost mad in their obstinacy of heart and began to build machines and then to storm us. It appeared later that Mianitsky himself did not wish that, but Charnota, their field commander, stormed in upon him and said that he was trying to run away, like a coward, and to make friends with the Poles, and then Mianitsky had nothing for it but to send Charnota forward. What then happened, little brothers, I cannot tell you, there was nothing to be seen but smoke and fire. At first they attacked us boldly, filled the trench, and sprang on the walls. We made it so hot for them, however, that they fled, not only from the walls, but from their own engines. Then we moved out with four regiments, and pursued them and slaughtered them like cattle. Volodrovsky rubbed his hands. Ah, I am sorry that I was not at that entertainment, he cried excitedly. I too might have been of some use there, said Zagloba, with quiet assurance. And those that fought the best there was Koshetosky and Jacob Rogovsky, continued the Lithuanian, both noble knights but very antagonistic to each other. Rogovsky particularly sought a quarrel with Koshetosky and would undoubtedly have called him out if Panveha had not forbidden the duel under pain of death. We could not understand at first why Panrogovsky wanted to fight, until we discovered that he was a relation of Panlash, whom you remember the prince drove out of the camp on Koshetosky's account. This accounted for Rogovsky's anger towards the prince and towards all of us, and especially towards the lieutenant. This was the discord between them, between two men, who during the siege covered themselves with glory, and who before that had wished to kill each other. They were both first on the walls, first in a sally, until Mielnitsky finally got tired of attacking us, and the regular siege began. Not omitting any treachery which might bring about the fall of the town. He trusts in cunning more than anything, said Zagloba, a mad and at the same time an obscure man, added Podbepienta. He thought that Panveha was a German, probably he knew nothing of the voyavoda of Pomerania of the same name, for he wrote a letter with the intention of persuading the starosta to betray the town as if he were a stranger and a hireling. But Panveha told him in a letter what he thought of him, and that he had come with his temptation to the wrong man. In order to make his dignity apparent, the starosta insisted on sending this letter by some person of importance, and not by a trumpeter. And as one was sure to be killed among such wild beasts, none of our men were anxious to go, so I undertook it, and now listen, for the best is to come. We are listening attentively, said the two friends. Well, I wrote there and found the Hetman drunk. He received me in a rage, especially when he had read the letter, and threatened me with his baton, and I humbly commended my soul to God, and thought to myself, if he touches me I will smash his head with my fist. What was to be done, little brothers? What could I do? It was noble of you to think that, said Zagloba slyly, but his officers sought to calm him and stepped between us, said Lungen, especially a young man who was so bold as to seize him round the waist and pull him back, saying, you shall not go, little father, you are drunk. I looked more closely to see who was protecting me, astonished at his boldness, and that he was so familiar with Melnitsky, and it was Bohon. Bohon! cried Volodrovsky and Zagloba. Bohon himself, I recognized him, for I had seen him in Rosloga, and he recognized me. I heard him say to Melnitsky, that is a good friend of mine, and Melnitsky, with a sudden resolve that often comes to a drunkard, said, if he is thy friend, little son, give him fifty dollars, and I will give him a safe conduct. And he gave me the safe conduct, but as for the money I said so as not to irritate the animal, that he should save it for the hide-dukes, for it is not the custom among officers to receive tips. They treated me with great respect as I left the tent, but I had hardly got outside when Bohon came up to me. We met each other once in Rosloga, he said. Yes, I remember, I said, but at that time I did not expect, little brother, that I should see you again in this camp, and he answered, it is not my own will, but misfortune that has brought me here. During the conversation I told him also how we had beaten him behind Yarmulins. I did not know with whom I was dealing at that time, he said, I was wounded in the hand and had poor soldiers, for they imagined that Prince Yarmulins was fighting them. And we did not know who you were, I said, for if Panskashutlsky had known it one of you would not be alive to-day. You were right, but what did he think of it? asked Volodrovsky. He became embarrassed and said no more about it. He then told me that Chivonos had sent him with letters to Mielnitsky near Limburg, that he might recover himself a little, and that Mielnitsky would not let him return because he needed him as a representative on other missions. Finally he asked, where is Panskashutlsky? And when I said in Zarmost he answered, then perhaps we may meet, and then we parted. I judged that immediately after that Mielnitsky sent him to Warsaw, said Zagloba. He did, but wait a minute, sir. I returned to the fortress and reported to Panveyor about my mission. It was already late at night. The following day they stormed us again, more obstinately, than at first. I had no opportunity to see Schetlsky for three days, when I told him that I had seen Bohun and spoken to him. There were a number of officers standing near, among them Rogovsky. When he heard that, he said mockingly, I know that it is a question of a lady, if you are such a knight as people claim there is Bohun, challenge him to a duel with swords, and be sure that this duelist will not let you off. We shall enjoy a fine spectacle from the walls. They make more fuss about you vis-n-ov-yetsky men here than you deserve. Schetlsky looked at Panrogovsky as if he would bite him. Do you advise me? he asked. That is well, but I do not know if you, who make little of our valour, have the courage to go down among the blacks and deliver my challenge to Bohun. And Rogovsky answered, I have the courage, but I am neither kith nor kin to you. I will not go. The others now laughed at Rogovsky. Oh, they said, now you are getting faint-hearted, but when it was a question of somebody else's skin, you were very brave. Rogovsky, who is very proud, grew angry and undertook to do it. The following day he took the challenge, but Bohun was not there. We did not believe his report, but now, after what you have told me, I see that he spoke the truth. Melnitsky must have really sent Bohun away, and that was when you killed him. Yes, that was it, said Volodrovsky. But tell us, asked Zagloba, where shall we now find Skashetovsky, for find him we must in order to go with him at once to look for the girl. You can learn more about him on the other side of Zarmost, for they talk of nothing else. He and Rogovsky have completely routed Kalin, a Cossack colonel, by driving him towards one another from opposite directions. After that Skashetovsky destroyed, on his own account, two Tartar chambles, defeated Berle, and fought different mobs. Does Melnitsky allow that? Melnitsky would have nothing to do with them, and says they were fighting contrary to his orders, otherwise no one would believe in his fealty and obedience to the king. How bad the beer is in this Cosskovsky! remarked Zagloba. Behind Lublin you will ride to a devastated land, said the Lithuanian, for the expeditions went beyond Lublin, and the Tartars dragged everybody into slavery, and God alone knows what they have plundered beyond Zarmost and Rubiesh. Skashetovsky has already rescued several thousand prisoners and sent them back to the fortress. He is working with all his might, paying no attention to his health. Here long inside and hung his head thoughtfully. Presently he resumed, See here, I think that God in his great mercy will surely comfort Skashetovsky and give him that alone which will make him happy, for this night's services are many. In these times of destruction and self-interest, where each one thinks of himself, he forgets his own interests. He could have obtained leave from the prince long ago, in order to seek the princess, but instead of that, when the terrible blow struck our dear mother country, he never slackened in his duty for a moment and worked unceasingly, though his heart was bleeding. He has the soul of a Roman, no one can deny it, said Zagloba. He might serve as an example, especially to you, Panpodbypienta, for all through the war, instead of thinking of your mother country, you are looking for your three heads. God sees my heart, said Longan, raising his eyes to heaven. God has already rewarded Skashetovsky with Bohan's death, said Zagloba, and also by allowing the commonwealth a time of rest. Now the time has come for him to think of looking for his lost happiness. Will you, gentlemen, accompany him? asked the Lithuanian. Will not you? I could do it with my whole heart, but what will become of the letters? I have one from the Starosta of Yelets to his Majesty the King, another to the prince, and a third from Skashetovsky also to the prince with a request for leave. We are bringing him his leave. Sure, but I must deliver the letters. You must go to Cracow. There is nothing else to be done, but I tell you frankly that in our expedition to look for the princess, I should like to have such fists and such shoulders as yours in our company, but I do not want you or any other account, for there we must simulate. The safest thing would be to put on Cossack dress and pretend we are peasants, but you would attract so much attention by your enormous height that everyone would ask, what kind of pole is that? Whence comes such a Cossack? Besides, you cannot understand much about their language. No, no, you go to Cracow, and we shall have to get along without you. I am of your opinion, said Volodzovsky. Then we will let it remain so, answered Longin. May God in His mercy bless and guide you. Do you know where she is hidden? Bruhan would not tell me. We know only what I heard when Bohan kept me a prisoner in the pigpin, but that is enough. How will you find her? That is my affair, said Zaglova. I have succeeded in doing more difficult things. The chief thing now is to get to Skasiatowski as soon as possible. Ask about him in Zamos. Panveja must know where he is. He corresponds with him, and Skasiatowski delivers the prisoners up to him. May God bless you. The same to you, said Zaglova. When you are in Cracow with the Prince, remember us to pan car lamp. Who is that? He is a Lithuanian of such great beauty that he has turned the heads of all the Princesses' ladies in waiting in the capital. Pan Longin started. Sir, you are joking. Goodbye, sir, the beer in Konskolvsky is wretched! concluded Zaglova, winking at Volodzovsky. End of Book 3, Chapter 14 Book 3, Chapter 15 of With Fire and Sword by Henrik Sinkhevich translated by Samuel A. Benion This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Pan Longin set out for Cracow with a heart pierced by an arrow, and Kruel Zaglova, accompanied by Volodzovsky, went to Zamos, where they did not even stay one day. The commandant starosta of Velets had told him that it was a long time since he had heard anything of Skasiatowski, and he thought that the regiments which Skasiatowski commanded had gone to garrison Zabaraj, in order to protect that region from the bands of free-booters. This was all the more probable from the fact that Zabaraj, being the property of the Vishnovetsky, was especially liable to the attacks of the prince-deadly enemy. A long and weary road lay before Volodzovsky and Zaglova, but as they were obliged to travel this road in their search for the princess, and it mattered not whether sooner or later, they started without delay, resting no longer than was absolutely necessary, or than was required to route the wandering bands. They rode through regions so desolate where sometimes, for days at a time, they never saw a human soul. The little towns lay in ashes, the villages were burnt down and desolate, their inhabitants killed or taken into slavery. They found nothing on their way but corpses, ruins of houses and churches, smoking remains of villages, and howling dogs upon the ashes. Whoever had survived the Tartar-Cossack invasion crept away into the depths of the forest and endured cold and hunger, not daring to come out of the forests for fear the danger might not be over yet. Volodzovsky fed his horse on the bark of trees, or cobs of half-burned corn, which they picked up amid the ruins of what had been granaries, but they hurried forward seeking their subsistence chiefly in the provisions which they took from the marauding companies. It was already the end of October and in proportion as the former winter, much to the astonishment of all, had passed without snow, frost or ice, this winter was more severe than usual. The whole course of nature seemed changed, the earth was frozen hard, snow lay upon the plains, and along the margin of the rivers a thin coating of ice could be seen in the mornings. The weather was dry, the pale sunbeams gave a little warmth at midday, but morning and evening a dark red glow was seen in the sky, the sure sign of an early and severe winter. In addition to war and famine a third deadly enemy threatened the wretched people, frost, and yet everyone looked for it longingly, as it was a far sureer impediment to war than any negotiations. Panvolodzovsky, as a man of experience and one who knew the Ukraine thoroughly, was full of hope that the expedition to find the princess would surely be successful, for the chief hindrance the war had been removed for some time. I do not believe in Mielnitsky's sincerity, he said, or whether he is returning to the Ukraine out of love for the king or from the cunning of a fox. He knows that the Cossacks are good for nothing if they cannot fight behind earthworks, and in the open field, although they were five times on number, they could not stand against our regiments. They are now going into winter quarters and will drive the herds into the snow. The Tartars also want time to drive their captives home. If the winter is severe, we shall have peace until the grass is green once more. Perhaps longer, for they certainly respect the king's authority, but we do not need so much time. God willing, we shall arrange Cossattosky's wedding for Shrovetide. If only we do not miss him now, that would be a fresh trouble. He has three regiments with him, so it will not be like looking for one grain in a bushel. Perhaps we may overtake him before we reach the barrage, if he is detained anywhere among the hay-damocks. We cannot overtake him, but we ought to hear something about him on the road, answered Volodrovsky. This, however, was not easy, for the peasants had seen regiments passing by, had heard of encounters with the Marauders, but no one could tell whose men they were, as they might have been Rogovsky's men just as easily as Kishatosky's. The two friends had no certainty in the matter, but they heard definite news of the defeat of the Cossacks by the Lithuanian soldiers. The rumor was already taking shape on the eve of Volodrovsky's journey from Warsaw, but it was doubted at first. Now the news, with all details, was circulated through the whole country as an absolute certainty. The Lithuanian victory made up for the defeat of the royal forces by Melnitsky, Pokshenets and Savage Nibbada had lost their heads, and the still more redoubtable Shechovsky, who instead of a starosta ship and a voyavoda ship and other honors, had earned impalement among the ranks of the rebels. It seemed as though a strange nemesis had avenged the German blood which he had shed in killing Colonel's flick and Werner in the reeds of the Nipper, for he fell into the hands of the German regiment Radsaville. Although sorely wounded, he was dragged away to the stake, upon which the unfortunate man lingered in agony the whole day long before he finally gave up his black soul. This was the end of one who, through his courage and war-like genius, might have become a second Stefan Melnitsky, but whose insatiable desire for wealth and position led him into treachery and perjury, and in the end sent him to the most frightful of deaths, a death fit for Chivonos himself. Pokshenets and Nibbada, who were with him, had lost almost 20,000 Cossacks on the field of battle, all who had not perished in the swamps of the pre-pets. Fear spread like a storm-wind across the thriving Ukraine, for all believed that after the great triumphs at the Zoltovoda, Kursun and Pilavets, a time of defeat had arrived, similar to those which the rebels had experienced at Solonets and Kumeika. Melnitsky himself, although at the height of his fame and more powerful than ever, vacillated when he heard of the death of his friend Shechovsky, and began again to seek for knowledge of the future among the fortune-tellers. They prophesied various things, among others, that a new war would take place. They spoke of conquests and defeats, but could not tell the Hetman what would happen to him personally. Through Shechovsky's death and on account of the winter, the truce was of longer duration. The country began to settle down. The devastated villages were once more inhabited, and confidence returned to all the despairing and troubled hearts. With the aid of this confidence, after a long and difficult journey, our two friends arrived happily in Zabaraj, where, after announcing themselves at the castle, they at once went to the Commandant, in whom, to their great astonishment, they recognized Vyashul. And where is Shechovsky? Zagloba asked after the first greetings were over. He is not here, answered Vyashul. Have you the command of the garrison? Yes. Shechovsky was in command, but he went away and left me as commandant until his return. And when did he promise to return? He did not say, indeed he did not know himself, but he said when he left, if any one should come for me, tell them to wait for me here. Zagloba and Vyashulsky looked at one another. How long has he been gone? asked Pan-Michael. Ten days. Pan-Vyashulsky said, Zagloba, let Pan-Vyashul give us some supper, for we cannot take counsel on hungry stomachs. We will continue our conversation at the supper-table. I am only too delighted to wait on you gentlemen, for I am just going to sit down to table myself. Besides, Pan-Vyashulsky, as my superior officer, will now take the command, so I am his guest, and not he mine. Keep the command, Pan-Khristov. Said Volojovsky, for you are older than I am, and besides, I must leave again soon. It was not long before supper was ready. They sat down and ate and drank with enjoyment, and after Zagloba had somewhat satisfied his hunger with two plates of soup, he said to Vyashul, You have no idea, sir, where Pan-Skechovsky is gone. Vyashul ordered the servants to leave the room, and after a moment's reflection, he said, I have an idea, but Skyshetovsky is very anxious to keep the matter a secret, and that is why I would not speak before the servants. He took advantage of a favorable opportunity, for we shall probably remain here quietly until the spring, and in my opinion has gone to look for the princess who is in Bohon's hands. Bohon is no longer alive, said Zagloba. How is that? Zagloba now related for the third or fourth time all that had happened, for he always enjoyed telling it. Vyashul, like Longin, could not sufficiently express his astonishment, and finally said, Well then it will be easier for Pan-Skechovsky. It just depends on whether he finds her. Did he take any men with him? No one. He rode alone with one little Russian boy and three horses. Then he set to work prudently, for one can do nothing there except with cunning. One might get as far as commonettes with a regiment, but in those sheets in Mohilov there are nothing but Cossacks. There are good winter quarters there. There is a nest of them in Yampol, and one must go there either with a whole division or quite alone. But how do you know that he has gone into that region? Asked Vyashul. Because she is hidden somewhere behind Yampol, and he knew that, but there are so many glens, hollows, and bush that it would be hard enough to find her if one knew the exact spot, and how much harder when one does not know. I rode to Yaholik with horses, and also to a council, that is how I know. If I were with him it might be more easy, but as he is alone I doubt very much if he finds her, unless some accident should show him the way, for he would not dare to ask anyone. Then you gentlemen wished to accompany him? Yes, but what shall we do now, Pan-Michael? Shall we follow him or not? I leave that to your good judgment. Ten days have passed since he left. We cannot overtake him, and besides he said we were to wait for him. God knows what way he may have taken. He may have followed the old highway that leads through Ploskuren Bar, or he may have gone by way of coming its Podolski. It is hard to decide. Remember also, gentlemen, that there are only surmises, and we have no certainty that he has gone to look for the princess. That's just it, that's just it, said Zagloba. He may have only gone to get information, and then to return to Zabaraj, for he knew that we would go with him, and he may be expecting us just at this time. It is a difficult matter. I would advise you to wait ten days, said Vyashul. Ten days is nothing. Shall we wait or not? I think perhaps we had better not wait, for what should we lose by setting out tomorrow? If Skyshetto-Ski does not find the princess, perhaps God will give us better luck. See here, Pan-Michael, we cannot undertake this thing without due consideration. You are young and anxious for adventure, said Zagloba, but there is a danger, for if he is looking for her alone, and we are also looking for her, it might easily arouse suspicion among the people in that neighborhood. The Cossack people are sly and fear that anyone may discover their plans. They may be arranging with the Pasha, whose territory borders on Kutzim, or with the Tartars beyond the Nipah for a war. Who can tell? In that case they will keep a watchful eye on strangers, and especially on any who may be asking their way. I know them. We might easily betray ourselves, and what then? Well, it would be all the more easy for Skyshetto-Ski to fall into some trap, and we ought to hasten to his assistance. That is very true. Zagloba sank into deep thought so that his temples twitched. Presently he roused himself, and said, Taking everything into consideration, I think we ought to set out. Volodzhovsky breathed freely. And when? After we have rested here about three days, so that we may be fresh in body and soul. The following day the two friends began their preparations for the journey, but suddenly and quite unexpectedly, the evening before they were to start, Skyshetto-Ski's boy, the young Kossak Siga, arrived with news and letters for Vyashul. When Zagloba and Volodzhovsky heard of it, they went at once to the Commandant's quarters and read what follows. I am in commonance, winced the road through Seitanov is safe. I am going to Yeholik with Armenian merchants to whom Pan Bukovsky directed me. They have taught her and Kossak's safe conducts, which will ensure them a safe journey as far as Achaemen. We are going to Ushits, Mohilov, and Yampol with Silks, stopping in every place where there is the slightest trace of life. Perhaps God will help us to find what we seek. Tell my comrades Volodzhovsky and Pan Zagloba to wait for me in Zabaraj if they have nothing else to do, for the road I have left behind me cannot be traveled by large numbers on account of the great mistrust of the Kossaks, who are wintering in Yampol and along the Nister to Yeholik, and have turned their horses out in the snow. What I cannot do by myself, three of us could not do, and I can easily get through as an Armenian. I thank you, Pan Krzysztof, from my whole soul for your decision, which I shall never forget as long as I live, but I could not wait for her any longer, for I passed every day in torture. I could not tell whether they would come, and this was just the time to set out when all the merchants are setting out to buy candied fruit and silk stuffs. I am sending back my faithful boy. Take him under your protection. I have no need of him, and I am afraid that as he is so young he may chatter about our affairs. Pan Bukovsky vouches for these merchants that they are honest, and I believe it, in the belief that everything rests in the hands of the Almighty, who, if he will, may show us his mercy and shorten our tortures. Amen. Pan Zagloba, after reading the letter through, looked at his companions, who were silent. At last Vershul said, I suspected that he had gone there. And what remains for us to do, asked Volodzhovsky. Well, what! said Zagloba, shrugging his shoulders. There is nothing for us to do there. I am glad that he is travelling with the merchants, for he can spy round everywhere without anyone being suspicious. They will buy something in every cabin and every country house, for half the commonwealth has been plundered. It would be difficult for us, Pan Michael, to get beyond Yampul. Skoshetlsky is as dark as a Valak, and could easily pass for an Arminian. You would easily be recognised for your flaxen moustache. Even a peasant's disguise would not be of much use. God bless him! We are of no use there, I must confess, although I am sorry to think that we cannot lift our hand to rescue that poor child. However, we have done Skoshetlsky a great service in killing Bohun, for if he were alive, I would not answer for Yon's life. Folozhovsky was much disappointed. He had looked forward to a journey full of adventure, and now he had the prospect of a tedious sojourn in Zabaraj. Perhaps we can ride to Cominitz, he said. And what would we do there? What should we live on? entered Zagloba. It does not make any difference within what walls we vegetate. We must wait in any case, for such a journey will take Skoshetlsky a long time. A man remains young as long as he is occupied. Here Zagloba let his head droop in a melancholy manner, and he grows old in inaction. But what is to be done? Let him go without us. Tomorrow we will have a solemn mass said that God may give him good luck. We have killed Bohun. That is the principal thing. Let the horses be unsettled, Pan-Michael, we must wait. The following morning, long monotonous days of expectation began for the two friends, and neither drinking mead nor throwing dice was able to enliven them. They stretched out endlessly. The severe winter made itself felt, snow, two feet deep covered everything like a shroud, the roofs of Zabaraj as well as the whole earth. Wild animals and flocks of birds approached human habitations. All day long was heard the croaking of innumerable flocks of crows and ravens. December passed, January, February, and still no news of Skoshetlsky. Zagloba became melancholy and declared he was growing old. The commissioners who had been sent by the Commonwealth to carry on negotiations with Mielnicki finally made their way to Novoselic amid the greatest difficulties, and remained there waiting for an answer from the victorious Hetman, who during this time remained in Shigrin. They waited sadly and anxiously for, during their whole journey, they had been exposed to death, and their difficulties increased at every step. They were continually surrounded, by night as by day, by swarms of blacks who had become perfectly savage from war and slaughter, and howled for the death of the commissioners. From time to time they came upon bands without a leader, consisting of murderous and savage herders, who had not the slightest conception of the law of the land, and thirsted for blood and booty. The commissioners had indeed an escort of a hundred horse, commanded by Pan Brasovsky, and besides that, Mielnicki, foreseeing what might occur to them, had sent Colonel Donets to protect them with four hundred Cossacks. But the escort might at any time prove insufficient, for the crowd of blacks increased every hour and assumed an ever more threatening attitude. And whoever wandered for a moment from the train or from his regiment disappeared for ever. They were like a handful of travellers surrounded by a herd of hungry wolves. Thus whole days and weeks passed until one night in camp at Novoselic, they all believed that their last hour had come. The company of dragoons and the escort under Donets had been carrying on a regular battle to protect the lives of the commissioners, who were already saying their prayers and commending their souls to God. The Carmelite Lentovsky gave them absolution one after another, while from outside each gust of air brought frightful cries, firing, hellish laughter, the clash of sides, and cries of death and destruction, as well as demands for the head of the Voyevoda Kiziel, who was a special object of their hatred. It was a long, dreadful winter night. The Voyevoda Kiziel sat motionless for several hours, his head buried in his hands. He did not fear death, for since the time he left Hushay he was so exhausted, so weary and sleepless, that he would have gladly stretched out his arms to death. But his soul was filled with boundless despair. Was it not he who as a Russian in blood and bone had first undertaken the role of a peacemaker in this unexampled war? Was it not he who everywhere in the Senate and at the councils had stepped forward as the most zealous advocate of negotiations? He who had supported the policy of the Chancellor and the primate, he who had condemned most fiercely Prince Yeremi, who had worked in good faith for the welfare of the Cossack people and of the Commonwealth, and had believed with the whole might of his earnest soul that negotiations and concessions would settle everything, soothe and heal the bleeding wounds. And now, at the very moment that he was taking the baton and the concessions for the Cossacks to Mianitsky, he despaired of everything, for he saw with his own eyes the futility of his exertions, and beheld before him emptiness and unabyss. Did they then demand nothing but blood, desire no other freedom than the freedom to rob and burn, thought the Voyavoda, suppressing the groan that sought to escape from his noble heart? The head of Kiziel, the head of Kiziel, and destruction to him, was the answer to his thoughts from the mob. And the Voyavoda would willingly have sacrificed his white careworn head, if one last spark of belief had not restrained him, the belief that something else was needed for their salvation and that of all the Cossacks, as well as for the welfare of the Commonwealth, let the future teach them how to demand that. And as he thought of this, a ray of hope and a certain amount of confidence lighted for a moment the darkness with which despair had clouded his soul, and the unhappy old man persuaded himself that these blacks did not represent the whole Cossack people, not even Mjolnicki and his colonels, and that negotiations must be entered into with him. But would they be lasting so long as half a million of rabble were under arms? Would they not be disregarded at the first breath of spring and vanish like the snow which now lay on the steps? Here he thought of the words of Prince Jeremy, one can show mercy only to the conquered. And again his thoughts became gloomy, and again the abyss opened at his feet. It was past midnight, the noise and the confusion had lessened, but the storm outside was raging more fiercely, and the snow was forming drifts. The weary rabble scattered in the various houses, and hope returned to the commissioner's breasts. Wojciech Mjolnicki, the underchamberlain of Lemberg, rose from the bench on which he was sitting, listened at the window which was covered with snow, and said, It seems to me that we shall, with God's help, survive until the morning. Perhaps Mjolnicki may send us a larger escort, for we cannot get to him with this one, said Snijerovski, Jolenskiy, the cup-bearer of Brotslav, laughed bitterly. Who would take us, for peace-commissioners? I was sent repeatedly as an envoy to the Tartars, said the standard-bearer of Novogorod, but in all my life I never made such a mission as this. In our person the Commonwealth is suffering more humiliation than she underwent at Korsun and Pilavius. I tell you, gentlemen, we ought to turn back. For there can be no question of negotiations. Let us turn back," repeated Bjozowski, the castellan of Kiev, as we cannot have peace, let us have war. Kiziel raised his brows and fixed his glassy eyes on the castellan. The Zoltavoda, Korsun and Pilavius, he said gloomily, and they were all silent until Kochinsky, the treasurer of Kiev, began to tell his beads aloud, and the master of the hands, Shatovskiy, put his hands to his head and repeated, What dreadful times, what dreadful times, God have mercy on us! The door was here opened, and Breshovskiy, the dragoon-captain of the Bishop of Pozin, who was looking for shelter, stepped into the room. Illustrious for your voda, he said, a cossack desires an audience. That is well, answered Kiziel. Have the blacks already scattered? They have gone, but tomorrow they will come again. Did they attack you badly? Frightfully, but don yet's cossacks killed several of them. Tomorrow they are going to burn us out. Well, let the cossack come in! Presently the door was opened, and a tall, black-bearded form stood on the threshold. Who art thou? asked Kiziel. Yonsk Shatovskiy, Lieutenant of the Hussars of the Prince Voyevoda of Russia. The castellan, Yozovskiy, Koshinsky, and the master of the hounds, Shatovskiy, sprang from their seats. They had all served the year before under the prince, and had been at Maknova and Konstantinov and knew Panyan well, and Shatovskiy was even related to him. Can it be? Is it true? Then you are Pansk Shatovskiy. What are you doing here? How did you get here? asked Shatovskiy, putting his arms around him. In the disguise of a peasant, as you see, said Shatovskiy. Illustrious Voyevoda, cried the castellan, Yozovskiy. This is the bravest night of the regiments of the Voyevoda of Russia, celebrated in the whole army. I greet him with a joyful heart, said Kizyel. He must be a very determined knight to have managed to get as far as this. Then, turning to Shatovskiy, what is your request from us? That you will permit me to travel with you, gentlemen. You are putting yourself into the jaws of the dragon, but if you wish it, we have no objection. Shatovskiy bowed in silence. Kizyel looked at him in astonishment. He was struck by the earnestness and sorrow in the stern face of the young knight. Tell me, sir, he asked what motive drives you into that hell which no one visits voluntarily. Unhappiness, illustrious Voyevoda. That was a useless question, said Kizyel. You have lost someone you love and wish to seek them there. That is it. Is it long since? Since last spring. What, and you have only now started out to find them? It is almost a year. What have you been doing all this time? I have been fighting under the Voyevoda of Russia. Would not that magnanimous master grant you leave? I would not take it. Kizyel looked once more at the young knight and there was a silence which was interrupted by the castellan of Kiev. All of us who have served under the prince know of this young cavalier's misfortune. We have all shed tears over him, and we often regretted that he preferred to serve his country as long as the war lasted, instead of thinking of his own happiness. But it was only the more praiseworthy he has set a rare example in these degenerate times. If it proved that my word has any weight with Milnitsky, believe me, sir, I will bespeak his kindness in your undertaking, said Kizyel. Skishtysky bowed again. Go and rest now, said the Voyevoda graciously. You must be very tired, and we all are, for we have not had a moment's rest. I will take him to my room. He is a relative, said the master of the hounds, Shetovsky. Let us go and take some rest also, said Byazovsky, as we do not know if we shall get any sleep tomorrow night. Perhaps a never-lasting sleep, answered the Voyevoda. Then he retired to his room, at the door of which his boy was awaiting him, and the others also retired. Shetovsky took Skishtysky into his quarters, which were only a few doors away. The boy lighted them with a lantern. How dark the night is! The snow is falling harder than ever, said the master of the hounds. Ah, Panyan, what hours we have passed through! I thought that our last hour had come! The blacks had almost placed their knives at our throats. Byshovsky had lost courage, and we were beginning to take leave of each other. I was among them, answered Skishtysky. Tomorrow evening they expect a new band of murderers, whom they have informed of your presence here. Tomorrow we must set out, no matter what happens. You are going to Kiev, are you not? That depends on Mielinitsky's answer, which Prince Chetvetinsky has gone to obtain. This is my room. Step in, Panyan. I ordered some wine to be heated, and we will fortify ourselves before going to sleep. They stepped into the room, where a mighty fire burned in the chimney. The steaming wine was standing on the table. Skishtysky eagerly reached for a glass. I have touched nothing since yesterday, he said. You look wretched. It is easy to see that you are wasted by sorrow and fatigue. But tell me about yourself, for I know your affairs. You intend, then, to seek the princess among those people? To seek her or death, answered the knight. You will soon find your death. How do you know that the princess is there at all? asked the master of the hounds. Because I have already looked for her elsewhere. Where? Along the Neister, as far as your Holik. I travelled with some Armenian merchants, for I had proofs that she was hidden there. I have been everywhere, and now I am going to Kiev, because Bohan is said to have taken her there. Skishtysky had scarcely mentioned Bohan's name, when the master of the hounds raised both hands and clasped his head. By God, he cried, I have not told you the most important thing. I heard that Bohan was killed. Skishtysky turned pale. What? He said, who said so? That nobleman who had already rescued the princess, and who fought so bravely at Konstantinov. I met him as he was riding to Zarmost. We passed each other on the road. Almost before I had asked him what news he had, he answered that Bohan was dead. Who killed him, I asked? He answered, I did, and we separated. The colour which had mounted into Skishtysky's face suddenly paled. That nobleman, he said, is always joking. One cannot believe him. No, he cannot possibly have killed Bohan. And did not see him, Panyan, for I remember that he said he was going to Zarmost to see you. I did not expect him in Zarmost. He must now be in Zabaraj. But I was in a hurry to overtake the commissioners, so I did not come from Kamenets by way of Zabaraj, and have not seen him at all. God only knows if all that he told me about her that time was true. He pretends that while Bohan had him prisoner, he overheard that he had hidden her behind Yompol, and was then going to take her to Kiev for the marriage ceremony. Perhaps there is no more truth in that than in anything else that Zagloba says. Why did you want to go to Kiev? Skyshettersky did not reply, and for a time no sound but the howling of the wind was to be heard. For, said the master of the hounds, putting his finger on his forehead, if Bohan is not dead you would fall into his hands. I am going there to find him, answered Skyshettersky gloomily. Why? God shall decide between us. But he will not fight with you, but will put you in chains at once and kill you or sell you to the Tartars. I shall go with the commissioners under their protection. God grant that we may manage to keep our own heads out of the noose, and how can we talk of the protection we grant? If it is hard to live, it will be easy to die. Have mercy on yourself, Yon, for in this case it is not a question of death only, for no one can escape that, but they may sell you to the Turkish galleys. Do you think so, Panshettersky? Do you think that it will be worse for me than it is now? I see you are in despair. You have no confidence in God's mercy. You are mistaken, sir. I say that it fares badly with me on earth, but by God's help I have been reconciled long ago. I desire nothing. Do not complain. Do not curse. Do not run my head against a wall. I only try to fulfill what seems to be my duty, as long as life and strength hold out. But sorrow is wasting you like a poison. God gave the sorrow that it might waste me, and will send a remedy when he sees fit. That is an unanswerable argument, said the Master of the Hounds. God alone can help you. Our hope for ourselves and for the Commonwealth rests in him. The King has gone to Częstochowo. Perhaps he will entreat the most holy virgin for us, otherwise we are lost. A silence ensued, broken only by the challenge of the dragoons outside. Verda! Yes, yes, said the Master of the Hounds after some time. We all belong more to the dead than to the living. The people of this Commonwealth have forgotten how to laugh. They only sigh like the wind in the chimney. But I believed that better times would come before I set out to come here with the others. I see now that my hope was unfounded. Ruins, war, hunger and death. Nothing else. Nothing else. Częstoski was silent. The flames which darted from the hearth up the chimney lighted up his stern, emaciated face. Presently he raised his head and said earnestly, All is transitory, all passes, vanishes, and nothing remains. You speak like a monk, said the Master of the Hounds. Częstoski did not answer. The wind moaned ever more sadly in the chimney.