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PAN MICHAEL 
 
 AN HISTORICAL NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE POLISH BY 
 DR. SAMUEL A. BINION 
 
 TRANSLATOR OF "QUO VADIS," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE FEDERAL BOOK COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
PRESERVATION 
 3OPY ADDED 
 DRIGINALTOef:..; 
 
 RETAINED 
 
 FEB221994 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1898 
 BY HENRY ALTEMUS 
 
 Pan Michael 
 
 HENRY MORSE ST 
 
ROLOGUE. 
 
 After the Hungarian "War, when the marriage of Pan 
 Andrey Kmitsa with Panna Alexandra Billevick took place, 
 the equally famous warrior in the Commonwealth, Pan Jerzy 
 Michael Volodiyovski, Colonel of the Lauda Cavalry, also was 
 to have been married to Panna Anna Borzobohata Krashy- 
 enska. 
 
 But the affair was hindered and postponed by a remarkable 
 series of obstacles. Panna Anna Borzobohata was the foster- 
 daughter of Princess Grizelda Vishnyovyetski, without whose 
 consent she would not wed. Pan Michael therefore was 
 obliged to leave Panna Anna at Vodokta and set out for Za- 
 most 1 in order to obtain her consent and blessing. 
 
 But his lucky star was not in the ascendant. He did not 
 find the princess in Zamos^as she had left for the Imperial 
 Court of Vienna to educate her son. The persevering Knight 
 however followed her to Vienna, though the journey con- 
 sumed much time. There, matters were successfully ar- 
 ranged and he returned to his own land with eager antici- 
 pation. 
 
 On reaching home he found fresh troubles: the army w r as 
 forming a confederacy, the rebellion in the Ukraine still con- 
 tinued, and the flames on the eastern frontier had not yet 
 been extinguished. Fresh troops were levied so that tin 
 frontiers at least might be protected. Before his arrival in 
 Warsaw, he had received a commission signed by the Russian 
 Voyevoda himself. Considering that patriotism should 
 always take precedence of private affairs, he abandoned all 
 thoughts of immediate marriage and departed for the 
 Ukraine. There, he fought for years, scarcely rinding time 
 to send even an occasional letter to his anxious betrothed, 
 and living in the midst of incessant battle, tqjj ^nd hardship. 
 
 1 Zamos'o. 
 
4 PROLOG VE. 
 
 He was next sent to the Crimea, and ihon followed the un- 
 happy internecine strife in which Pan Michael took the side 
 of the King and fought against that infamous character, UK- 
 traitor, Lnbomirski. Then, under Pan Sobieski, he ieJ't again 
 for the Ukraine. From that time on, his reputation grew so 
 greatly that he was generally regarded as the foremost soldier 
 of the state; hut for him the years were filled with anxieties, 
 sighings, and longings, until at last dawned the year 1668 in 
 which, at the request of the Castellan, the order was granted 
 for him to rest. At the beginning of the year therefore, he 
 hastened to his beloved at Vodokta, and with her, proceeded 
 to Cracow. They went there because Princess Grizelda, who 
 had returned from the Imperial dominions, had invited them 
 to celebrate their marriage at that place, offering to become 
 the mother of the bride. The Kmitsas remained at Vodokta, 
 not having received early information of Pan Michael's move- 
 ments, and entirely occupied with the expectation of another 
 guest altogether. Hitherto, children had been denied to 
 them, but at last Providence had hrought about a change in 
 accordance with their most earnest wishes. 
 
 That year was one of marvellous productiveness. Grain 
 was so plentiful that the barns could not contain it. The 
 country was covered with stacks through its whole length 
 and breadth. In the tracts devastated by the war, pine sap- 
 lings had grown up in that one Spring higher even than in 
 two ordinary years. There was abundance of game, mush- 
 rooms carpeted the forests, and the waters teemed with fish, 
 so that it seemed as though all the creatures of the earth had 
 been endowed with an extraordinary fecundity. The friends 
 of Pan Michael regarded this condition of things as a happy 
 omen for his marriage, but Fate had determined otherwise. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On a beautiful day in Autumn, Pan Andrey Kmitsa 1 was 
 sitting in a shady bower and drinking his after-dinner mead: 
 from time to time he gazed at his wife through the trellis 
 which was overgrown with wild hops. Pani Kmitsa was walk- 
 ing on a well-kept walk in front of the bower. 
 
 She was tall, and well-shaped, with shining hair and a 
 serene and almost angelic face. 
 
 She walked with care and deliberation for the Lord had 
 blessed her among women. 
 
 Pan Andrey Kmitsa gazed lovingly at her. When she 
 moved, his eyes followed her with the devotion that a dog 
 shows for his master. From time to time he smiled, for it 
 made him happy to look at her, and he twisted up the ends 
 of his moustache. 
 
 At such moments his face was full of mischievous fun. It 
 was evident that the soldier was of a gay disposition and in 
 his bachelor days had had many a frolic. 
 
 The silence of the garden was broken only by the fall to 
 the ground of the over-ripe fruit and the hum of insects. It 
 was early in September and the weather was beautiful. The 
 extreme heat of the sun had abated, but the golden glow was 
 still ample. In the sunlight rosy apples were glistening 
 among the grey leaves in such numbers as to conceal the 
 boughs. The branches of the plum-trees were bending under 
 the weight of the fruit covered with greyish gum. 
 
 The least motion of the air was shown by the spider-webs 
 hanging from the trees; they were swaying in a faint breeze 
 that scarcely moved the leaves. 
 
 Perhaps 'it was the lovely weather that had made Pan 
 
 ^Polish Kmitsits." 
 
6 ... 'PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Andrey so' joyous, ''for : his face grew more radiant every 
 moment : Ajk: IjWt- life; .took a .draught of mead and called to 
 his wife':** * ' : *' : ' ' 
 
 "Olenka, come here! I want to say something to you." 
 
 "It may be something that I should not care to hear." 
 
 "As God is dear to me, it is not. Listen to me." 
 
 Then he caught her by the waist, pressed his moustache 
 to her shining hair and whispered: 
 
 "If a boy, let him be Michael." 
 
 She turned away with a faint flush on her face and mur- 
 mured: 
 
 "But- you promised not to object to Heraclius!" 
 
 "Do you not see that it is to honor Volodiyovski ?" 
 
 "But should we not first remember my grandfather?" 
 
 "And my benefactor! H'm! true, but the next shall be 
 Michael. It must be so." 
 
 At this, Olenka stood up and tried to free herself from 
 Pan Audrey's arms; but he held her closer to his breast and 
 began to kiss her on the eyes and mouth, saying: 
 
 "My precious one, my dearest love!" 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by the ap- 
 pearance of a boy ait the end of the path who ran quickly 
 towards the bower. 
 
 "What is the 1 matter?" asked Pan Andrey, releasing his 
 wife. 
 
 "Pan Kharlamp has arrived and is waiting in the parlor," 
 answered the boy. 
 
 "And here he is himself!" cried Pan Andrey at the sight 
 of a man approaching. "Good God! how grey his moustache 
 is! Greetings, dear friend! greetings old comrade!" 
 
 Then he darted out and hastened with open arms to re- 
 ceive Pan Kharlamp. But the latter first bowed low to 
 Olenka,, whom he had seen of old at the court of Kieydan; 
 then he pressed her hand to his enormous moustache and, 
 casting himself into Audrey's arms, he sobbed on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "For God's sake what is the matter?" cried the astonished 
 host. 
 
 "God has given happiness to one and taken it away from 
 another," said Kharlamp. "But the cause of my grief I can 
 tell to you only." 
 
 Here he glanced at Olenka who, seeing thait he did not wish 
 to speak in her presence, said to her husband, "I will send 
 mead to you gentlemen, and meanwhile I will leave you. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. j 
 
 Pan Audrey led Kharlamp into the bower, and seating 
 him on a bench asked: 
 
 "What is it? Are you in need of assistance? Rely upon 
 me as upon Zavisha." 1 
 
 "There is nothing the matter with me," said the old sol- 
 dier, "and while I can still move this hand and this sabre I 
 need no assistance; but our friend, the worthiest knight in 
 the Commonwealth, is in terrible suffering. I know not 
 whether he is still breathing/' 
 
 "By Christ's wounds! has anything happened to Volo- 
 diyovski?" 
 
 "Yes/* said Kharlamp, again giving way to tears. "Know 
 that Panna Anna Borzobohata has left this vale " m 
 
 "Dead!" cried Kmitsa, bowing his head in his hands. 
 
 "As a bird pierced by a dart." 
 
 A moment's silence followed, there was no sound but 
 that of an occasional heavy fall of an apple to the earth and 
 of Pan Kharlamp's sobs as he tried to restrain his tears. But 
 Andrey wrung his hands and shook his head and kept re- 
 peating: 
 
 "Dear God! dear God! dear God!" 
 
 "Your lordship will not wonder at my tears," at last Khar- 
 lamp said, "for if the mere tidings of what has happened op- 
 presses your heart so grievously, what must it be for me who 
 witnessed her pain and sufferings, that were excessive?" 
 
 At this point the- servant appeared, bearing a tray with a 
 pitcher and a second glass; he was followed by Andrews wife, 
 who could not restrain her curiosity. Seeing from her hus- 
 band's face that he was in great suffering she immediately 
 said: 
 
 fr Wha<t tidings have you brought? Do not send me away. 
 I will do my best to comfort you, or weep with you, or aid 
 you with my counsel." 
 
 "Your head can find no help in this case," said Pan 
 Andrey, and I fear that sorrow may have an evil effect on 
 your health." 
 
 "I can stand a great deal. It is worse to live in uncer- 
 tainty." 
 
 "Anusia is dead," said Kmitsa. 
 
 ^ Olenka turned pale and sank heavily down on the bench. 
 Kmitsa thought that she was going to fain^; but she was af- 
 
 'A famous Polish magnate of the 17th Century, who distinguished himself 
 by his writings and statesmanship Translator, 
 
g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 faeted more by grief than by the shock of the sudden an- 
 nouncement, and burst into tears, in which she was joined by 
 the two knights. 
 
 "Olenka," said Pan Andrey, at last trying to lead his wife's 
 thoughts in another direction, do you not believe she is in 
 Paradise?" 
 
 "I am not grieving for her, but for her loss and for the 
 bereavement of Pan Michael. As for her eternal happiness, 
 I wish I had such sure hope of my own salvation as i have 
 of hers. A worthier maiden, 'or one of a better heart never 
 existed. Oh, my Anulka! 1 my beloved Anulka!" .... 
 
 "I saw her die," said Kharlamp, "God grant that none of 
 us may die with less piety!" 
 
 Then silence followed, as though some of the sharpness 
 of sorrow had departed with their tears; at length Kmitsa 
 said: 
 
 "Tell us how it happened, and take some mead to support 
 yourself -at the saddest points of your story." 
 
 "Thank you," answered Kharlamp, "I will drink now and 
 then, if you will join me, for grief, like a wolf, seizes a man 
 not only by the heart but also by the throat, and when it 
 seizes him there is no help, it chokes him. I was on my way 
 from Chenstohovo to settle down on a farm in my native 
 place in my old age. I have had enough of war; I began as 
 a stripling and now my moustache is grey. If I cannot stay 
 at home altogether I will serve in one of the squadrons, but 
 these military confederations are formed to the detriment of 
 the fatherland and comfort of the enemy, and this eternal 
 civil strife has thoroughly disgusted me with war. . . . 
 Good God! the pelican nourishes its young with its own blood, 
 but this country has no longer any blood left in its breast, 
 Sviderski was a great warrior. . . ,, May God judge him 
 there. . . . 
 
 | "My most beloved Anulu!" interrupted Olenka, weeping, 
 '''without thee what would have happened to me and all of 
 us! Thou wast a refuge and a defence to me! Oh, my be- 
 loved Anulu!" 
 
 As he heard her, Kharlamp again began to sob, but Andrey 
 broke in with the question: 
 
 "But where did you go to meet Pan Michael?" 
 
 To Chenstohovo, where they intended to rest, fe~ v 
 
 *Anulka, Anula, and Anusia are endeariug name* of Ata. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 9 
 
 on the road they would make offerings. He immediately told 
 me how that he was going from this place to Cracow to visit 
 Princess Grizelda, without whose permission and blessing 
 Anusia would not marry. She was in good health then and 
 Pan Michael was as joyous as a bird. 0, he said, "See what a 
 reward the Lord has given me for my labor/' He bragged 
 a good deal, too (God comfort him!) and joked with me not 
 a little because, as you know, at one time I quarrelled with 
 him about the lady and we were nearly fighting a duel. And 
 now, poor woman! where is she?" 
 
 Here Kharlamp again burst into tears until Audrey 
 checked him a second time', asking: 
 
 "You say she was well: then how did it happen so sud- 
 denly?" 
 
 "What is sudden is sudden. She was staying with Pani 
 Mairtsinova Zamoyska,, who was spending some days at Chens- 
 tohovo with her husband. Pan Michael would sit by her side 
 all day, he was rather impatient with the delay and said that 
 at that rate they would be a whole year on the journey to 
 Cracow because everyone on the way would want to detain 
 them. And no wonder! Everybody would be happy to en- 
 tertain such a soldier as Pan Michael and all who could get 
 hold of him would keep him. He also took me to his lady 
 and smilingly threatened to cut me to pieces if I attempted 
 to make love to her; but she had no eyes for anybody else. 
 1 sometimes felt squeamishly because an old man like myself 
 is like a nail in a wall. No matter! One night Pan Michael 
 came running in to me in great distress: "For God's sake, 
 can you find a doctor?" "What has happened?" "She is so 
 ill that she does not recognize anyone." "When was she 
 taken ill?" I asked. "Pani Zamoyska has brought me word," 
 he replied. "It is now night. Where can I find a doctor in 
 this place where there is nothing but a cloister and more ruins 
 than people?" At last I found a barber surgeon, but even he 
 was unwilling to come till I threatened violence with my axe. 
 But a priest was more necessary than a doctor and indeed we 
 found a worthy Paulist who restored her to consciousness 
 with his prayers. She was able to receive the sacrament and 
 take an affecting farewell of Pan Michael. By the next noon 
 it was all over with her. The barber surgeon said that some- 
 thing must have been administered to her, but that is im- 
 possible, for philters- are ineffective in Chenstohovo. But 
 what happened to Pan Michael! What did he say? -I h<jpc 
 
I0 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 that the Lord Jesus will not hold him to account for it, for 
 a man does not heed his words when grief is tearing at his 
 heart. (Pan Kharlamp here lowered his voice.) "You see," 
 he said, "in his madness he blasphemed." 
 
 "For God's sake! did he blaspheme?" asked Pan Kmitsa 
 in a whisper. 
 
 "From her corpse he rushed out into the ante-chamber, 
 and from there into the yard and reeled about like a drunken 
 man. He raised his clenched fists on high and cried in a 
 terrible voice: 'Such is my reward for my wounds, for my 
 labors, for my blood, for my attachment to my country! . . . 
 I had one ewe-lamb and that one, Lord, Thou hast taken 
 from me. To strike down an armed man who walks the earth 
 in his pride is a deed for God's hand, but a cat, a hawk, or 
 a kite can kill a harmless dove, and ' ; 
 
 "By God's wounds!" cried Olenka, "say no more, or you 
 will bring misfortune upon this house." 
 
 Kharlamp crossed himself and continued. "The distracted 
 soldier thought that after all his service this was his reward. 
 Ah, God knows best what he is doing though it is not clear to 
 human reason, nor can be gauged by human justice." 
 
 "Immediately after blaspheming he became rigid and fell 
 to the earth and the Paulist read an exorcism over him so 
 that evil spirits should not enter into him as they might, 
 taking advantage of his blasphemy." 
 
 "Did he soon recover?" 
 
 "He lay like one dead for about an hour and then revived 
 and retired to his chamber, refusing to see anyone. At the 
 burial I said to him, "Let your heart turn to God." He re- 
 plied not a word. I stayed three days longer at Ohenstohovo, 
 as I was unwilling to leave him; but he would not open his 
 door to me. He did not want me. I gave much anxious 
 thought to the question whether I should make further efforts 
 to get in or go away and leave him. How could I leave such 
 a man comfortless? But not being able to do anything I 
 went to Pan Skshetuski. He is his best friend and Pan Zag- 
 loba is also a friend of his, perhaps they will manage to touch 
 his heart, mo<re especially Pan Zagloba, who is clever and 
 knows how to prevail with people." 
 
 "Did you go to Skshetuski's?" 
 
 "I did, but even there I was unfortunate,, for both he and 
 Zagloba had gone to Kalish to see the captain of horse, 
 Pan Stanislav. No one knew when they would return. Then 
 
PAN MICHAEL. n 
 
 I reflected, 'As Jmudj is on iny way, I will go to Pan Andrey 
 and tell him what has occurred/ ' ; 
 
 "I always knew that you were a worthy knight/ 7 said An- 
 drey. 
 
 "In this case it was not a question of myself but of Pan 
 Michael, and I must confess I have great fears that his mind 
 is unbalanced/' 
 
 "God preserve him from that," said Olenka. 
 
 "If God preserves him he will certainly take the cowl, for 
 I assure you that I have never seen such grief as his in all 
 my life. It is a pity for such a soldier as he is a great pity!" 
 
 "Why a pity? It would be to the greater glory of God," 
 said Olenka. 
 
 Kharlamp's lips moved and he passed his hand across his 
 brow. 
 
 "Well, gracious lady, either it will or will not. Think how 
 many infidels and heretics he has slain in his Hie which surely 
 has pleased Our Saviour and His Mother more than any priest 
 could with sermons. IFm! it is a pleasant thing to think of. 
 Let each man serve the glory of God in his own way as he best 
 can. There are thousands wiser than he among the Jesuits, 
 but there is not such another sabre in the Commonwealth." 
 
 "As God is dear to me, that is true," cried Andrey. "Do 
 you know if he stayed on in Chenstohovo?" 
 
 "He was still there when I left; I know not what he has 
 done since. This only I pray: God preserve him from losing 
 Ms mind, God preserve him from sickness which often ac- 
 companies despair, he is alone, alone without help, without 
 a relative, without a friend, and without consolation." 
 
 "May Our Most Holy Lady of that place of miracles save 
 thee, trusty friend, for no brother could have done more than 
 thou hast done for me!" 
 
 Olenka became very thoughtful and there was a long 
 silence; at length she raised her shining head and said, "Yen- 
 drek. 1 you remember all that we owe him?" 
 
 "If I forget I will borrow the eyes of a dog, for I shall 
 never again dare to look an honest man in the face with my 
 own." 
 
 "Yendrek, you cannot leave him in that condition." 
 
 "How can I help him?" 
 
 "Go to him." 
 
 "There speaks a woman's true heart; there i a noble 
 
 *The same as Andrey. 
 
12 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 woman/ 7 cried Kharlamp, seizing her hands and covering 
 them with kisses. 
 
 But the 'advice did not please Pan Andrey; so he shook 
 his head and said, "I would go to the world's end for him, 
 but you know how it is if you were well I might but 
 you know. God preserve you from any accident! The wife 
 comes before the best friend. I am sorry for Pan Michael, 
 but you know." 
 
 "I will remain under the care of the Lauda Fathers. Every- 
 thing is quiet here now and there is nothing for me to be 
 afraid of. Without the will of God not a hair of my head will 
 fall to the ground; and there Pan Michael needs rescue per- 
 chance." 
 
 "Indeed he does need it!" added Kharlamp. 
 
 "Yendrek, I am in good health. No harm will come to me; 
 I know that you do not want to go." 
 
 "I would rather attack cannon with an oven-stick !" Andrey 
 broke in. 
 
 "If you do not go do you not think it will be hard for you 
 when you reflect 'I have abandoned my friend?' and more- 
 over the Lord in his righteous indignation may well deprive us 
 of his blessing." 
 
 "You have raised a knotty point for me. You say that he 
 may take away his blessing? I dread that thought." 
 
 "It is a sacred duty to save such a friend as Pan Michael." 
 
 "I am devoted to Michael. It is a hard case! If there is a 
 necessity for it, it is immediate, for in this matter every hour 
 counts. I will go to the stables without delay. By the living 
 God, is there no alternative. The Devil inspired those fel- 
 lows to go to Kalish. With me it is not a question of myself 
 but of you, beloved, I would rather lose all that I possess than 
 do without you for one day. If anyone said that I left you ex- 
 cept upon public service I would drive my sword into his 
 mouth up to the cross-hilt. You say it is my duty! So be it. 
 The man who hesitates is lost. If it were for anyone but 
 Michael I would not do it." 
 
 Here he turned to Kharlamp, "Noble sir, I beg you to ac- 
 company me to the stables and we will choose our horses. 
 And you, Olenka, see that my baggage is ready. Get some of 
 the Lauda men to attend to the threshing. Pan Kharlamp 
 you must stay with us for a fortnight at least; you will look 
 after my wife in my absence. You can find some land to suit 
 you in this neighborhood. Take Lubich! Come to the sta- 
 bles. I will start in an hour. If it must be it must be!" 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Sometime before sunset the Knight took leave of his tear- 
 ful wife who blessed his departure with a crucifix in which 
 were portions of the True Cross set in gold, and as he had 
 been accustomed to taking sudden journeys for many years, 
 he started out as if after Tartars who were vanishing with 
 spoil. 
 
 After passing Yilno he proceeded through Grodno to 
 Bialystok and so to Sy edicts. 1 In Lukov he learned that 
 Pan Yan Skshetuski had returned the day before from Kalish 
 with his family and Pan Zagloba. He therefore determined 
 to seek them, for who could better advise as to the means of 
 saving Pan Michael? 
 
 They were surprised and delighted to see him but when he 
 told them the cause of his visit their joy was turned into 
 sorrow. 
 
 Pan Zagloba did not recover his equanimity the whole day 
 and shed so many tears that, as he afterwards said, the water 
 in the mill-pond rose and they had to open the flood-gate. 
 But when his eyes had run dry he fell into deep thought and 
 at the council he delivered himself as follows: 
 
 "Yan cannot go for he is elected to the Chapter; there will 
 be many matters to attend to, as the land is full of restless 
 spirits after so much war. From what you say, Andrey, it is 
 evident that the storks will remain at Vodokta the whole 
 winter, since they are on the programme and must perform 
 their functions. No wonder that under such domestic con- 
 ditions you are not anxious to undertake the journey especi- 
 ally since we can't tell how long it may take. You have shown 
 your noble heart by coming, but my candid advice is to re- 
 turn, for in this case Michael needs a close confidant, one who 
 will not take a sharp answer to heart, nor be hurt at any un- 
 willingness to receive him. What is wanted is patience and 
 great experience and you have only friendship for Michael, 
 which is not sufficient. But don't be angry, for you must 
 
 iSiedlec. 
 
 (13) 
 
I4 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 acknowledge that Yan and I are older friends of his and have 
 passed through more adventures with him than you have. 
 Dear God, on how many occasions have he and I saved each 
 other, from disaster! 77 
 
 "I will resign my duties as a deputy!" Pan Yan interrupted. 
 
 "Yan that is public duty!" protested Zagloba sternly. 
 
 "God knows/ 7 cried the troubled Pan Yan, "that I love my 
 cousin with true fraternal affection; but Michael is closer to 
 me than a brother even." 
 
 "He is closer to me than any blood relation, especially as 
 I never had one. This, is not the time to discuss our affection. 
 You see, Yan, if this misfortune had just fallen upon Michael 
 I might say to you 'Let the Diet go to the DeviF and go! But 
 think how much time it has taken for Pan Kharlamp to go to 
 Jmudj from Chenstohovo and for Andrey to reach here from 
 Jnmdj. Now, it is not only necessary to go to Michael, but 
 to stay with him; not only to sorrow with him, but to reason 
 with him; not only to point to the Crucified as an example, 
 but to cheer him up with^pleasant humour. So you see who 
 ought to go, I, and I will go, so help me God! If I find 
 him at Chenstohovo I will bring him here; if not I will follow 
 him even to Moldavia and will not cease to seek him while I 
 have the strength left to take a pinch of snuff." 
 
 When they heard this the two cavaliers began to embrace 
 Pan Zagloba and he became somewhat affected at the thought 
 of Pan Michael's misfortune and his own approaching toils. 
 So he began to weep and at last when they had embraced him 
 to liis content he said: 
 
 "Do not thank me for Michael: you are no nearer to him 
 than I." 
 
 "We are not thanking you for Pan Michael," said Andrey, 
 but a man must have a hard and inhuman heart indeed not to 
 be moved at the sight of your readiness, which, at a friend's 
 necessity, takes no account of fatigue and no thought of age. 
 At your years other men are thinking of a comfortable nook 
 by the fire; but you talk of a long journey as if you were no 
 older than Pan Yan or myself." 
 
 Pan Zagloba made no secret of his years, it is true; but he 
 did not like people to talk as if incapability accompanied old 
 age. So that though his eye? were still red he glanced sharply 
 and somewhat resentfully at Pan Andrey and replied: 
 
 "My dear sir, at the beginning of my seventy-seventh year 
 1 felt a slight sinking at the heart because two axes were over 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ! 5 
 
 my neck, but when the eighth decade had passed I gained 
 such spirit that a wife came tripping into my mind. And if 
 I had married we might have seen which of us would first 
 have had cause to boast, you or I." 
 
 "I do not boast," said Andrey, "but neither do I flatter 
 you." 
 
 "And I should certainly have confounded you as I did 
 Pototski, the Hetman, in the king's presence when he was 
 jesting about my age. I challenged him to try who could 
 make the greatest number of consecutive goat-springs. And 
 what was the result? Revera made three; the haiduks had to 
 lift him for he could not get up alone; and I went all over the 
 place with thirty-five springs. Ask Pan Yan who was a wit- 
 ness to it all!" 
 
 Pan Yan, who was long accustomed to have Zagloba appeal 
 to him as a witness to everything, did not move an eyelid but 
 returned to the subject of Pan Michael. Zagloba was silent 
 and seemed to be thinking deeply; at last he recovered his 
 good humor and after the meal he said: 
 
 "I will tell you something that would not occur to every- 
 one. I trust to God that our Michael will get over this 
 calamity more easily than we thought at first." 
 
 "God grant it! but what makes you think so?" asked 
 Andrey. 
 
 "H'm! Besides being well acquainted with Michael, a 
 natural quick wit and long experience are needed, and that is 
 not possible at your years. Every man has his own special 
 gifts. When misfortune strikes some men it is, figuratively 
 speaking, like casting a stone into a river. On the surface 
 the water flows on quietly, but the stone lies on the bottom 
 and impedes the current and breaks it dreadfully and it will 
 lie there and break it till all the waters cease flowing into the 
 Styx_ Yan, you may be classed among such men; but the 
 world has more suffering for them, for the pain and the 
 memory of what caused it never leave them. But others take 
 misfortune like a punch on the shoulder. They lose their 
 senses for a moment but soon revive and when the black-and- 
 blue bruise is gone they forget it. Ah! that kind of nature is 
 the best for this world which is full of vicissitudes." 
 
 The cavaliers attentively listened to Zagloba's words of 
 wisdom; he was gratified at their respectful attention and pro- 
 ceeded: 
 
 "I know Michael thoroughly: and God is my witness that 
 
Ib PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 I have no desire to find fault with him now but I have an idea 
 that his grief is more for the loss of the marriage than of the 
 maiden. It is nothing that a terrihle despair has taken hold 
 of him, though that too lies hard upon him. You cannot 
 conceive what a desire that man had to marry. In his nature 
 there is no manner of greed, nor ambition, nor self-seeking; 
 he has neglected what he possessed, he has as good as lost his 
 own fortune, he forgot his salary; but in return for all his 
 toils and services he only demanded from the Lord God and 
 the Commonwealth a wife. And in his own soul he said that 
 he was entitled to such bread, and he was about to put it in 
 his mouth when at that very moment it was as if someone 
 jeered at him and said, 'Now you have it! Eat it!' Is it any 
 wonder that he gave way to despair? I do not say that he 
 did not grieve over the maiden; but, as God is dear to me, he 
 grieved more about the marriage, though of course he himself 
 would swear to the contrary." 
 
 "God grant it!" repeated Pan Yan. 
 
 "Wait! Only let those wounds in his heart close and be 
 covered with fresh skin, and we shall see whether his old de- 
 sire does not return. The only danger is that now, crushed 
 with despair, he may take some step or make some decision 
 that afterwards he would regret. But whatever was to hap- 
 pen has already happened, for in misfortunes decisions are 
 quickly made. My servant is packing my clothes. I am not 
 saying this to dissuade you from going but only to comfort 
 you." 
 
 "Once again, father, you will be a healing balm to Michael/' 
 said Pan Yan. 
 
 "As I was to you, you recollect? If only I can find him 
 soon, for I fear that he may be hiding in some ruins, or will 
 disappear somewhere among the far steppes with which he 
 has been familiar since childhood. Pan Kmitsits, your lord- 
 ship dwells upon my years; but I tell you that if ever a Boyar 1 
 courier made such speed with his despatches as I shall, then 
 when I return set me to untangle a skein, shell peas, or work 
 at the distaff. Hardships shall not deter me, nor marvels of 
 hospitality turn me aside; eating and drinking even shall not 
 detain me. You have never yet seen such a journey! I can 
 scarcely sit still now, it seems as if someone were pricking me 
 with an awl under the chair. I have even given orders for 
 my travelling-shirt to be rubbed with goat's grease so as to be 
 proof against snakes." . . . 
 
 J Bojar (Boyar), ft Noble of the equestrian order. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 However, Pan Zagloba did not make such speed as he 
 had promised his friends. The nearer he came to Warsaw 
 the more slowly he travelled. It was at that point when 
 John Casimir, king, statesman, and great leader, having ex- 
 tininguished the flames of foreign war and having, as it were, 
 drawn the Commonwealth out of the depths of a deluge, had 
 abdicated power. He had suffered everything, endured every- 
 thing, and exposed his breast to every blow from the foreign 
 foe, but when subsequently he had attempted internal re- 
 forms and had only met with opposition and ingratitude 
 from the nation instead of aid, of his own free will he took 
 from his anointed head the crown whose weight had be- 
 come intolerable to him. 
 
 The local and general diets had already been held, and Praj- 
 movski, the Primate, had summoned the Convocation for 
 November the fifth. 
 
 The early efforts of various candidates and the rivalries 
 of the several parties were very great; and though the elec- 
 tion alone could decide, yet all felt the unusual importance 
 of the Diet of Convocation. Therefore deputies from all 
 directions were hastening to Warsaw in carriage and on horse- 
 back, with servants and followers; senators were proceeding 
 to the capital each with a brilliant escort. 
 
 The roads were thronged; the inns were crowded; and the 
 discovery of rooms for even one night was attended with great 
 delay. However chambers were given up to Zagloba out of 
 respect to his years, but on the other hand his great fame 
 frequently exposed him to loss of time. 
 
 It happened thus: he would arrive at some inn where not 
 another finger could be squeezed in, whereupon the person- 
 age, who occupied the house with his retinue, would come 
 out through curiosity to see the new arrival, and, seeing a 
 man with a beard and moustache as white as milk, and moved 
 by his venerable appearance, would say: 
 
 "I pray your beneficent lordship to come in with me for a 
 little refreshment." 
 
1 8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Zagioba was no churl and would not refuse, as lie 
 knew that every man would be pleased to make his acquaint- 
 ance. As his host led him across the threshold and as Iced 
 "Whom have I the honor of entertaining?" he would simply 
 put his hands on his ribs and, sure of the effect, answer in 
 the two words: 
 
 "Zagloba sum!" 
 
 Indeed after those two words a great opening of arms 
 never failed to follow, with such exclamations as "I shall 
 number this among my happiest days!" And the officers 
 or nobles present would say, "Look at him! there is the pat- 
 tern, the gloria et decus (glory and honor) of all the pillars 
 of the Commonwealth." Then they thronged to gaze at 
 Zagloba and the younger of them came and kissed the hem 
 of his travelling-coat. Then they took kegs and vessels out 
 of the wagons and a gaudium (drinking-bout) followed and 
 sometimes lasted for several days. 
 
 Everybody thought that he was going as a deputy to the 
 Diet and when he denied it there was general astonishment. 
 But he explained that he had ceded his mandate to Pan 
 Domashevski, so that younger men might devote themselves 
 to public affairs. To a few he stated the real reason of his 
 journey but to the inquiries of others he replied as follows: 
 
 "Accustomed to war from my childhood, in my old age 
 I wanted to strike a last blow with Doroshenko." 
 
 At these words ihey marvelled still more and in no" one's 
 eyes did he lose importance for not being a deputy, for all 
 fenew that among the spectators were many who were more 
 powerful than the deputies themselves. Moreover every 
 senator, even the most eminent reflected that the election 
 would take place in a couple of months and then the slightest 
 word of a man of such reputation among the nobles would 
 be inestimably valuable. 
 
 Therefore they carried Zagloba about in their arms and 
 even the greatest lords stood before him with uncovered 
 heads. Pan Podlaski drank with him for three days; the 
 Patsovs, whom he met at Katushyn, 1 bore him in their arms. 
 
 More than one man gave orders to fill the old hero's baskets 
 with expensive presents, from vodka and wine to richly or- 
 namented caskets, sabres, and pistols. 
 
 Zalgoba's servants also greatly profited; and notwithstand- 
 ing his promises and intentions, he travelled so slowly that 
 he did not reach Minsk till the third week. 
 
 iKatuszyn. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 19 
 
 But there he did not halt for refreshments. As he was 
 driving through the square he saw so striking and splendid 
 a retinue that nothing he had yet met on the way could 
 equal it: retainers in brilliant colors and at least half a regi- 
 ment of infantry, for people did not go on horseback and 
 armed to the Diet of Convocation, but these troops were 
 *o well-ordered that the King of Sweden himself had -no 
 better guard; the square was filled with gilded carriages bear- 
 ing tapestry and carpets for use in the inns along the way; 
 wagons with boxes of provisions and food, attended by ser- 
 vants who were principally foreigners so that in the whole 
 crowd very few could make themselves understood. 
 
 At last Zagloba saw an attendant in the Polish dress, so, 
 giving orders to halt and feeling sure of good entertain- 
 ment, he had already put one foot on the ground and asked: 
 
 "Whose is this retinue that is so gorgeous that the King 
 can have no finer?" 
 
 The attendant answered, "Whose should it be but our lord, 
 the Prince Marshal of Lithuania?" 
 
 "Whose," repeated Zagloba. 
 
 "Are you deaf? Prince Boguslav Radzivill, who is going 
 to the Convocation and who, God grant, after the election will 
 find himself to be chosen." 
 
 Zagloba withdrew his foot quickly into the carriage. 
 
 "Drive on!" he shouted. "There is nothing here for us." 
 
 And he proceeded, trembling with rage. 
 
 "Great God!" he cried, "inscrutable are thy decrees and 
 if thou dost not strike this traitor with thy lightnings it is 
 because thou hast some design which human reason is not 
 permitted to fathom, though humanly speaking, it would be 
 well to chastise such a bull-driver. But it is evident that 
 evil is at work in this most enlightened Commonwealth if 
 such men without honor or conscience and venal betrayers 
 of their country are not only unpunished, but ride in power 
 and safety, nay, more, they also exercise civil functions. 
 Surely we must end in ruin, for in what other state or country 
 could such things happen? John Casimir was a good king, 
 but he pardoned too freely and accustomed the most iniqui- 
 tous to trust to impunity and safety. Still, that was not en- 
 tirely his fault. It is evident that throughout the nation 
 the public conscience and the sense of civic virtue have 
 utterly perished. Phew! phew! he a deputy! The idea of 
 placing in his hands the care and safety of the country! those 
 very hands that are destroying it and fastening Swedish 
 
20 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 bonds upon it! We shall be lost: it cannot be otherwise! 
 And then to make a king of him, the But there! it is evi- 
 dent that with such people (everything is possible. He a 
 deputy! Good God! But the law distinctly declares that 
 a man who is filling an office in an alien country cannot 
 be a deputy, and he is a governor-general under his scabby 
 uncle the Prussian prince. Ah, ha! wait, I have thee! What 
 are the verifications at the Diet for? If 1 do not go to the 
 chamber and raise this question, though I am only an ar- 
 biter, may I this moment be turned into a fat sheep and my 
 coachman into a butcher! 1 will find among the deputies 
 some to support me. I know not, venal traitor, whether 1 
 can succeed in balking such a potentate and excluding thee, 
 but be sure that what I do will not aid thy election. And 
 Michael, poor fellow, must wait for me since this is a matter 
 of public urgency." 
 
 Thus meditated Zagloba, promising himself carefully to 
 see to that matter of exclusion and privately win over de- 
 puties; for this reason he made greater haste to Warsaw from 
 Minsk, dreading to arrive late at the opening of the Con- 
 vocation. 
 
 But he arrived in time. The concourse of deputies and 
 others was so great that it was utterly impossible to find 
 accommodation in Warsaw itself, or in Praga, or even in the 
 suburbs; it was also difficult to find a lodging in a private 
 house, for three or four persons were sleeping in a single 
 room. Zagloba spent the first night in a shop at Fukiera and 
 with reasonable comfort; but in the morning when he en- 
 tered his carriage he did not well know what to do. 
 
 "God! God!" he cried bitterly, looking back on the 
 suburbs of Cracow as he passed, "here are the Bernard ines 
 and there the ruins of the Kazanovski Palace! Ungrateful 
 city! I bled and toiled to wrest it from the foe, and now it 
 refuses me a place to lay my grey head." 
 
 But it was not that the city grudged a resting-place for 
 the grey head; it simply hadn't one left. But a lucky star 
 was shining for him, for scarcely had he reached the palace 
 of Konyetspolski when a voice beside the carriage cried to his 
 driver: 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 The man pulled up and a stranger approached the car- 
 riage with radiant face arid exehimod: 
 
 "Pan Zagloba, does not your lordship know me?" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 21 
 
 Pan Zagloba saw before him a man of rather more than 
 thirty years, wearing a plumed leopard-skin cap an unmis- 
 takable sign of military service, a poppy-colored tunic, and 
 a dark red kontush held by a gold embroidered belt. The 
 stranger's face was unusually handsome: he had a delicate 
 complexion though somewhat tanned by the wind of the 
 steppes; his blue eyes were pensive and melancholy; his fea- 
 tures were unusually beautiful and almost too delicate for 
 a man. Notwithstanding his Polish dress he wore his hair 
 long and his beard with a foreign cut. Halting beside the 
 carriage he extended his arms, and though Zagloba could 
 not at first remember him, he leaned over and embraced him. 
 
 They pressed each other cordially and held one another 
 at arm's length to take a better look. 
 
 At last Zagloba said, "Pardon me, your lordship, bufc I 
 cannot yet recollect/' 
 
 "Hassling-Ketling!" 
 
 "Good Lord! The face seemed familiar to me but the 
 dress has entirely altered you, for of old I only saw you in 
 cavalry uniform. Now you wear the Polish dress?" 
 
 "Yes; for I have adopted this Commonwealth as my mother 
 for she received me when I was a wanderer almost in child- 
 hood and I do not want a mother of my own. You are not 
 aware that I was nationalized after the war." 
 
 "You give me good news! So you have been fortunate!" 
 
 "Both in this and otherwise, for in Courland on the 
 Jmudj frontier I found a man of my own name who adopted 
 me, gave me his coat of arms, and bestowed a fortune upon 
 me. He lives at Svyenta in Courland; but he owns an estate 
 on this side of the border which he has given to me." 
 
 "God bless you! Then you have given up war?" 
 
 "Only let the opportunity come and I shall be found in 
 my place. With that anticipation I have leased my land and 
 am waiting here for orders." 
 
 "That is the chivalrous spirit I love. In my youth I was 
 like that and there is vigor yet in my bones. What are you 
 doing now in Warsaw ?" 
 
 "I am a deputy to the Diet of Convocation." 
 
 "God's wounds! But you are already a Pole to the back- 
 bone!" 
 
 The young knight smiled. 
 
 "In my soul, which is better." 
 
 "Are you 
 
22 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 aiiswered Ketling. 
 
 "That is all that is wanting. But I think but stay! Have 
 you got over the old feeling for Panna Billevich?" 
 
 "Since you know what I thought was my own secret be 
 sure that no other has superseded it." 
 
 "Oh, don't think of her! She will soon present a young 
 Kmitsits to the world. Never mind! What sense is there 
 in sighing wiien another is living with her happily? Truly 
 that is absurd." 
 
 Ketling raised his mournful eyes: 
 
 "I said only that no new feelinghas come." 
 
 "It will come, never fear, we'll have you married yet. I 
 konw from my own experience too much constancy brings 
 only suffering. In my day I was as faithful as Troilus and 
 lost no end of pleasure and a great many chances; and how 
 I suffered!" 
 
 "God grant everyone the preservation of such, a jovial 
 mood as your lordship's!" 
 
 "Because I never lived to excess and therefore there are 
 no aches in my bones. Where are you staying? Have you 
 found lodgings?" 
 
 "I have a comfortable cottage at Mokotov which I built 
 after the war." 
 
 "That is lucky; but I have been searching the whole city 
 since yesterday." 
 
 "For God's sake, my benefactor, I hope you will not re- 
 fuse to stay with me. There is plenty of room; besides the 
 house there are offices and a commodious stable. There is 
 room for your servants and horses." 
 
 "This has fallen from Heaven, as God is dear to me." 
 
 Ketling took his seat in the carriage and they drove on. 
 
 On the way Zagloba told him about Pan Michael's mis- 
 fortune and he wrung his hands, for it was the first he had 
 heard of it. 
 
 "The blow is all the harder for me," he said at last; "per- 
 haps your lordship does not know what deep friendship has 
 grown up between us recently. Together we went through 
 all the last wars with Prussia, besieging the fortresses with 
 Swedish garrisons. We went in company to the Ukraine, 
 and against Pan Lubomirski, and again to the Ukraine after 
 the death of the Voyevoda of Russia under the Crown Mar- 
 shal Sobieski. The same saddle served as a pillow and we 
 ate from the same dish; we were called Castor and Pollux. 
 
PAN M1CUAKL. 23 
 
 And only when he came to Lithuania for Panna Borzobo- 
 hata were we separated. Who would have thought that his 
 fondest hopes were to disappear like an arrow in the air?' 7 
 
 "There is nothing sure in this vale of tears," said Zagloba. 
 
 "Except true friendship ! ... We must confer together 
 and find out where he now is. We may learn something 
 from the marshal of the kingdom who loves Michael as the 
 apple of his eye. If he cannot tell us anything there are 
 deputies here from every direction. It cannot be that no 
 one has heard of such a knight. I will assist you to the ut- 
 most of my power more willingly even than if it was my own 
 affair." 
 
 Thus conversing they at last arrived at Ketling's 'cottage' 
 which proved to be a mansion. The interior arrangements 
 were very extensive and it was full of costly furniture either 
 purchased or obtained in campaigning. The collection of 
 weapons was especially noteworthy. Zagloba was charmed 
 with everything he saw and exclaimed: 
 
 "Why, you could find quarters here for a score of men. 
 I was very fortunate to meet you. I might have shared 
 rooms with Pan Anton Khrapovitski who is an old acquaint- 
 ance. The Patsovs also invited me, they are seeking par- 
 tisans against the Radzivills, but I much prefer being with 
 you/ 7 
 
 "I have heard from the Lithuanian deputies/ 'said Ketling, 
 "that now that it is Lithuania's turn they are extremely 
 anxious to select Pan Khrapovitski as Marshal of the Diet. r 
 
 "And justly. He is a true and worthy man, but somewhat 
 easy-going. To his mind nothing is so precious as harmony: 
 he is ever trying to reconcile some couple or other and that 
 is futile. But tell me plainly, what is Boguslav Eadzivill to 
 you?" 
 
 "Since the time when Pan Audrey's Tartars took me pris- 
 oner at Warsaw he has been nothing. I cast off that service 
 and never went back to it; for, though a great lord, he is 
 a malicious and bad man. I saw enough of him in Taurogi 
 when he was plotting against that being who is superior to 
 this earth." 
 
 "How, superior? Man, what are you talking about? She 
 is formed of clay and may be broken like any other vessel 
 of olay. But that is of no consequence." 
 
 At this point Zagloba grew red with anger and his eves 
 seemed starting from their sockets. 
 
24 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "Just imagine it, that villian is a deputy!" 
 
 "Who?" asked Ketling in amazement, for his thoughts 
 were still running on Olenka. 
 
 "Boguslav Radzivill! But the verifications, what are they 
 for? Listen: you are a deputy 1 will hout to you in sup- 
 port from the gallery; fear not. The right is with us and 
 if they attempt to trample upon it a tumult may be started 
 among the spectators that will not be stayed without blood- 
 shed." 
 
 "Do not do that your lordship, for the love of God! I 
 will raise the question, for it is proper to do so; but God 
 forbid that we should disturb the Diet!" 
 
 "I will go to Khrapovitski though he is as lukewarm water; 
 but that cannot be helped, for much depends on him as the 
 future Marshal. I will rouse the Patsovs. I will publicly 
 proclaim all Boguslav's intrigues at least. Moreover on the 
 road I heard that the scoundrel is thinking of seeking the 
 crown for himself." 
 
 "A nation would be in its last decline and unworthy to 
 exist if such a man could gain the crown," said Ketling. 
 "But rest now and in a day or two we will go to the Crown 
 Marshal and make inquiries about our friend." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Some days afterwards came the opening of the Diet to 
 which, as Ketling had foreseen, Pan Khrapovitski was called, 
 he was chamberlain of Smolensk and subsequently Voyevoda 
 of Vitebsk. Since the only matters were to fix the date of 
 the election and to appoint the supreme Chapter, and as such 
 affairs afforded no scope for the intrigues of either party, the 
 convocation worked quietly enough. Only the question of 
 the verification of the members of the Diet disturbed it a 
 little just at first. When the deputy Ketling called into ques- 
 tion the election of the secretary of Belsk and of his colleague 
 Prince Boguslav Radzivill, a deep voice in the audience called 
 out "Traitor! foreign tool!" Other voices followed suit and 
 some deputies joined in and unexpectedly the Diet was di- 
 vided into two parties, one attempting to exclude the depu- 
 ties of Belsk and the other to confirm their election. Finally 
 a committee was appointed to settle the question and their 
 election was recognized. Nevertheless it was a painful blow 
 to Prince Boguslav. The mere fact that the Diet was dis- 
 cussing the question whether the Prince was qualified to sit 
 in the Diet and that all his treason and falseness at the time 
 of the Swedish invasion were dragged into public, covered 
 him with fresh shame in the eyes of the Commonwealth and 
 undermined all his ambitious schemes from the foundation. 
 
 He had calculated that when the partisans of Conde, 
 Neuburgh, and Lorraine without mentioning lesser candi- 
 dates, had mutually injured each other the selection might 
 easily fall on a man of the native country. 
 
 Conceit and his flatterers told him that if that should hap- 
 pen the native could only be a man of the greatest genius, 
 power, and fame himself. 
 
 Keeping his plans secret till the time was ripe, the prince 
 had been spreading his nets over Lithuania first, and was now 
 about to extend them to Warsaw, when suddenly they were 
 torn at the very beginning and such a big hole was made in 
 them that all the fish might easily escape. He ground his 
 
2 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 teeth during the whole time the investigation was being made 
 and since he could not visit his revenge on the head of Ket- 
 ling, as the latter was a deputy, he offered his followers a 
 reward if they would discover the spectator who had shouted 
 "Traitor, foreign tool!" at the conclusion of Ketling's pro- 
 posal. 
 
 Zagloba's name was too well known for him to remain long 
 hidden; besides he did not make any attempt at concealment. 
 The prince raised a great storm but was greatly discomfited 
 at learning that he was opposed by so popular a man and one 
 whom it would be dangerous to attack. 
 
 Zagloba also was aware of his own power, for when threats 
 were in the air he once at a great meeting of the nobles said: 
 
 "I know not whether it would be dangerous for the man 
 who should cause a hair of my head to fall. The election is 
 not far off' and where a hundred thousand brotherly sabres 
 are gathered together there may easily be hewing and 
 hacking." 
 
 These words reached the ears of the prince who only bit 
 his lips and smiled sarcastically, but secretly he knew that the 
 old man was right. 
 
 The next day he altered his behaviour towards the old 
 knight for when someone was speaking of Zagloba at a feast 
 given by the Prince Chamberlain, Boguslav remarked:" 
 
 "I hear that that noble is bitterly opposed to me; but I have 
 such a regard for noble natures that I shall always love him, 
 even though he does not cease to injure me in the future." 
 
 And the prince repeated the same words a week later to Pan 
 Zagloba in person, when they met at the house of the Grand 
 Hetman Sobieski. 
 
 Though Zagloba preserved a tranquil and courageous coun- 
 tenance the sight of the prince made his heart beat a little 
 faster, for Boguslav had a long reach and his violence made 
 him an object of dread to everybody. However the prince 
 called across the table: 
 
 "Noble Zagloba, it is reported to me that although you are 
 not a deputy you wished to drive me, an innocent man, out of 
 the Diet; but like a Christian I forgive you, and should you 
 ever want advancement I shall not hesitate to serve you." 
 
 "I only stood by the Constitution," replied Zagloba, "as it 
 is the duty of a noble to do; as for aid at my age God's is the 
 aid that I am most likely to need, for I am almost ninety." 
 
 "A beautiful age if it is as full of virtues as years and that I 
 have not the slightest inclination to doubt." 
 
MICHAEL. 27 
 
 "I served my king and country without going after strange 
 gods." 
 
 The prince slightly frowned. 
 
 "You served against me also as I know. But let there be 
 peace between us. All is forgoten and above all that you 
 aided the private enmity of another against me. I have still 
 an account to settle with that foe, but to your lordship I ex- 
 tend my hand and proffer my friendship/' 5 
 
 "I am only a servant; the friendship is too exalted for me. 
 I should have to stand on tiptoe, or jump up to reach it; and 
 that is troublesome in old age. If your highness is speaking 
 of an account between yourself and Pan Kmitsits, my friend, 
 I would far rather have nothing to do with that arithmetic." 
 
 "Why so, I pray?" asked the prince. 
 
 "Because there are four fundamental rules in arithmetic. 
 Although Pan Kmitsits has a considerable fortune it is a 
 midge in comparison with your princely wealth, therefore 
 Pan Kmitsits will not consent to divide with you. He is 
 engaged in multiplication on his own account and will allow 
 no man to subtract aught from him; I doubt if your highness 
 would be anxious to accept what he would give you." 
 
 Although Boguslav was skillful at word-fencing, yet, 
 whether confounded by the argument or the insolence of 
 Zagloba, he seemed to forget that he had a tongue in his head. 
 Those present shook their sides with laughter. Pan Sobieski 
 laughed with all his heart and said: 
 
 "He is an old war-horse of Zbaraj. He knows how to 
 wield a sabre and is also no uncommon player with the tongue. 
 Best leave him alone!" 
 
 Boguslav, seeing that he had come across an irreconcilable, 
 made no further efforts to win Zagloba over; but, beginning 
 to talk with another guest, he cast occasional malignant 
 glances across the table in the direction of the old knight. 
 
 But Sobieski was delighted and proceeded: 
 
 "You are a master, my lord, a real master. Have you ever 
 met with your equal in the Commonwealth?" 
 
 "At the sabre," answered the gratified Zagloba, "Michael 
 is my match, and Andrey also gives fair evidence of my train- 
 ing." 
 
 He gazed at Bogu?lav; but the prince pretended not to hear 
 him and went on talkinsr diligently to his neighbour. 
 
 "True," said the Hetman, "I have seen Pan Michael at 
 work on more than one occasion and would warrant him were 
 
28 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 even the fate of the whole of Christendom at stake. What a 
 pity it is that such a soldier has been struck as it were by a 
 thunderbolt," 
 
 "What has happened to him?" asked Sarbyevski, the sword- 
 bearer of Chekhanovyetski. 
 
 "The maiden he loved has died at Chenstohovo," Zagloba 
 replied, "and the worst of it is that I cannot get any tidings 
 of his whereabouts." 
 
 "By God! I saw him/ 7 cried Pan Varshytski, the Castellan 
 of Cracow. "As I came to Warsaw I met him on the road 
 coming hither also; and he told me that being disgusted with 
 the world and its vanities he was going to Mons Regius to 
 spend the rest of his burdensome life in prayer and medi- 
 tation." 
 
 Zagloba clutched at his few remaining locks. 
 
 "He has become a Camaldoli monk as I love God !" he cried 
 in the deepest despair. 
 
 Indeed the Castellan's words had greatly impressed every- 
 body. Pan Sobieski, who loved soldiers, and well knew what 
 great need the country had of them, was deeply concerned 
 and said after a pause: 
 
 "It is not good to withstand the will of men and the glory 
 of God, but it is a misfortune to lose him and, gentlemen, it 
 would be difficult for me to hide from you that I am grieved. 
 A soldier of Prince Yeremy's school he was excellent against 
 any enemy, but against the wild hordes he was unequalled. 
 There are but few of his kind in the Steppes, such as Pan 
 Pivo among the Cossacks, and Pan Ruschyts in the cavalry; 
 but even these are inferior to Pan Michael." 
 
 "It is fortunate that the times are somewhat more tran- 
 quil," said the sword-bearer of Chekhanovyetski, "and that 
 Paganism is faithfully observing the treaty of Podhaytsa ex- 
 torted by my master's invincible sword." 
 
 Here the sword-bearer bowed to Sobieski who was gratified 
 at such praise in public and replied: 
 
 "That was due first to the favor of God who enabled me to 
 make a stand at the frontier of this Commonwealth and do 
 some execution among the enemy; and secondly, to the valor 
 of good soldiers who are ready to undertake anything. I 
 know that the Khan personally would be glad to maintain 
 the treaty, but even in the Crimea he has turbulent subjects 
 and the Russe horde will not obey him at all. I have just 
 received tidings that on the Moldavian border cloudi are 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 29 
 
 gathering and raids are to be looked for: I have given orders 
 for the tracks to be carefully watched, but I have not enough 
 soldiers. When I send them to one point another is left un- 
 guarded. I need men who have had special training and are 
 acquainted with the ways of the riders; and that is why I am 
 so sorry about Pan Michael." 
 
 Zagloba raised his bowed head from his hands and cried 
 "But he shall not remain a Camaldolian even if I have to take 
 Mons Regius by assault to bring him away by force. For 
 God's sake! I will go straight to him to-morrow and perhaps 
 I may induce him to comply; if not I will go to the Primate, 
 to the General of the Order I will go even to Rome if I must. 
 I have no wish to take away aught from the glory of the Lord, 
 but what sort of a monk would he be without a beard? 
 There is as much hair on his face as on my fist! As I love 
 God, he will never be able to sing Mass; or if he does the rats 
 will scurry out of the cloisters thinking it the amorous cry 
 of a tom-cat. Pardon me, gentlemen, for saying what sorrow 
 dictates. I love that man better than I ever should a son of 
 my own if I had one. God be with him! God be with him! 
 Were he even a Bernardine! but a Camaldolian! ! As I am 
 a living man it shall not be! I will go direct to the Primate 
 to-morrow for a letter to the General of the Order." 
 
 "He cannot have taken the vows yet," said the Marshal, 
 "but let not your lordship be too insistent, lest he become 
 stubborn; and there is another consideration, has not the will 
 of God declared itself in his intention?" 
 
 "The will of God! The will of God does not come on a 
 sudden; as the old proverb says, 'What is sudden is of the 
 Devil'. It it were the will of God I should have remarked it 
 in him long ago, and he was never a priest but a dragoon. 
 If he had made such a resolve in full possession of his reason, 
 calmly and thoughtfully, I should have nothing to say; but 
 the will of God does not strike a desperate man as a falcon 
 strikes a duck. I will put no pressure upon him. Before 
 going I will consider my words so that I may not increase his 
 disgust with life; but my hope is in God. This little soldier 
 has always put more trust in my wit than in his own and I 
 have no doubt that he will do so in this case also, unless he 
 has greatly altered." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The next day Zagloba, having concerted his plans with 
 Hassling, and being armed with a letter from the Primate, 
 rang the bell at the gate of the monastery on Mons Regius. 
 His heart was beating violently at the thought, 'How will 
 Michael receive me?' and though he had prepared in advance 
 what to say he confessed to himself that much depended on 
 his reception. With this conviction he pulled the bell a sec- 
 ond time and when the key rattled in the lock and the door 
 slightly opened he thrust himself into the aperture with some 
 violence and said to the confused young monk: 
 
 "I know that special pel-mission is required to gain admis- 
 sion here, buf I have a letter from the Archbishop which you, 
 dear frater, will kindly give to the reverend Prior." 
 
 "It shall be done according to your lordship's desire," said 
 the porter, bowing at the sight of the Primate's seal. 
 
 Then he pulled a cord hanging from the tongue of a bell 
 and clanged it twice to call another, for he had no right to 
 leave the door. A second monk answered the summons and, 
 taking the letter, departed in silence. Pan Zagloba placed on 
 a bench a package he had brought with him, and sitting down 
 beside it, began to puff violently. 
 
 "Frater," said he at last, how long have } r ou been in the 
 monastery ?" 
 
 "Five years," the porter replied. 
 
 "Is it possible? so young, and five years already! Therefore 
 it is too late to leave, even if you wished to do so. Sometimes 
 you must pine for the world; for one man the world smells of 
 war, for another of feasting, for a third of women." 
 
 "Avaunt!" cried tne monk, crossing himself with devotion. 
 
 "How is that? Have you never been seized with the temp- 
 tation to leave the cloister?" repeated Zagloba. 
 
 The monk looked distrustfully at the envoy of the Arch- 
 bishop who was talking so strangely, and answered, "When 
 this door once closes on any man he never goes out again." 
 
 (30) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 3 X 
 
 "We'll see to tha/t! How is Pan Volodiyovski ? Is he alive? 
 Is he well ?" 
 
 "There is no one here of that name." 
 
 "Frater Michael?" said Zagloba at a venture. A former 
 colonel of dragoons who lately came here." 
 
 "We call him Brother Yerzy; but he has not yet taken the 
 vows, and cannot do so till the end of the term." 
 
 "And he certainly will not take them; for, brother, you" 
 would never believe what a man he is after women! You 
 could not find a man more destructive to female virtue among 
 the whole clerg I mean cavalry." 
 
 "This is not proper for me to listen to," said the monk in 
 growing confusion and surprise. 
 
 "Listen, f rater! I know not where visitors are received, 
 but if it is here I advise you to withdraw a little when Brother 
 Yerzy arrives, as far off as that grille for instance for our 
 conversation will deal with exceedingly worldly matters." 
 
 "I would rather go away at once," said the monk. 
 
 At this moment Pan Michael, or rather Brother Yerzy, ap- 
 peared, but he was so greatly changed that Zagloba did not 
 recognize Pan Michael in the approaching figure. In the first 
 place he looked taller in his long white habit than in his 
 dragoon jacket; then his moustache, usually curled up to his 
 eyes, was now drooping, and he was growing a beard that now 
 formed little yellow locks no longer than half a finger; and 
 finally he had become very spare and thin and his eyes had 
 lost all their old fire. He approached slowly, with his hands 
 hidden in his breast beneath his habit, and his head was 
 drooping. 
 
 Zagloba, not recognizing him, thought it might perhaps be 
 the Prior himself approaching, and therefore rose from the 
 bench and was beginning, "Laudetur" when suddenly 
 looking more closely he opened his arms and cried, "Pan 
 Michael! Pan Michael!" 
 
 Frater Yerzy allowed himself to be embraced and something 
 that sounded like a sob heaved his breast, but nis eyes re- 
 mained dry. Zagloba held him in a long embrace and at last 
 said: 
 
 "You have not been alone in bewailing your misfortune. I 
 wept; Yan, Andrey, and their families also wept. It is God's 
 will! Resign yourself to it Michael. Mav the Father of Mercy 
 comfort and reward you! . . . You have done well to im- 
 mure yourself hero for a time. In times of trouble there is 
 
32 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 nothing better than prayer and pious meditation. Come, let 
 me again embrace you! I can scarcely see you through my 
 tears." 
 
 And Zagloba shed genuine tears in his emotion at seeing 
 Pan Michael in this condition. 
 
 At last he said, "Forgive me for breaking in on your medi- 
 tation, but I could not do otherwise, as you will acknowledge 
 when you hear my reasons. Ah! Michael, you and I have 
 gone through a world of good and evil. Have you found 
 solace behind these bars?" 
 
 "I have," replied Pan Michael "in the words that I hear 
 daily in this retreat, and which I repeat and desire to repeat 
 till I die, Memento mori 'remember death/ In death there 
 is solace for me." 
 
 "H'm! death is to be met with more readily on the battle- 
 field than in the cloister where life passes as though one were 
 slowly unwinding thread from a ball." 
 
 "There is no life here for there are no mundane affairs, and 
 even before the soul leaves the body it lives, so to speak, in 
 another world." 
 
 "If that be true I will not tell you that the Byalogrod tribes 
 axe gathering in great force against the Commonwealth, for 
 that will be of no interest to you!" 
 
 Pan Michael's lips suddenly quivered and his right hand 
 mechanically moved to his. left side, but, finding no sword 
 there, he put both hands again under his habit, bowed his 
 head, and repeated: 
 
 "Memento mori." 
 
 "Certainly, certainly!" replied Zagloba, blinking his sound 
 eye with a certain amount of impatience. "Only yesterday 
 Pan Sobieski, the Hetman, was saying: 'Only let Volodiyovski 
 serve till this tempest is past and then he can go to whatever 
 monastery he likes. Such action would not be displeasing to 
 God; on the contrary, such a monk would be so much the 
 more meritorious/ But it is not to be wondered at that you 
 should consider your own peace of mind before the happiness 
 of the country, for charity begins at home." 
 
 A long silence followed; only Pan Michael's moustache 
 seemed to stand out somewhat more stiffly above his lips as 
 they worked. 
 
 "You have not taken the vows yet?" asked Zagloba at 
 length, "and you can Ipave at any moment?" 
 
 "I am not yet a monk, for I have been waiting for the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 33 
 
 grace of God, and till my soul should be purged of all dis- 
 tracting earthly thoughts. His grace is with me now: peace 
 of mind is coming back to me. I can depart, but have no 
 desire to do so since the time is approaching when I can make 
 my vows with a clear conscience and a heart free from all 
 earthly longings." 
 
 "I have no wish to divert you from it; on the contrary I 
 applaud your resolve, though I remember that when once 
 Yan was thinking of taking the cowl he deferred doing so 
 until the land was relieved of hostile attack. But do as you 
 will. Indeed I will never be the one to deter you, for there 
 was a time when I myself felt a vocation for a monastic life. 
 Fifty years ago I entered on my novitiate; I am a liar if I 
 did not. Well, God ordained otherwise. Only I tell you this, 
 Michael, you must come away with me just for two days." 
 
 "Why must I go? Leave me in peace!" 
 
 Zagloba raised the skirt of his coat to his eyes and com- 
 menced to sob. "I do not crave succor for myself," he cried in 
 broken accents, "though Prince Boguslav Radzivill is pursu- 
 ing me with his vengeance; he sets his assassins in ambush for 
 me and there is no one to defend or protect me, a poor old 
 man. ... I was thinking that you . . . But no mat- 
 ter ... I will still love you till I die, even though you are 
 unwilling to take any interest in me. . . . Only pray for 
 my soul, for I shall not be able to escape Boguslav's hands. . . 
 Let come what will to me; but another of your friends who 
 shared his last crust with you, is now on his death-bed and 
 desires to see you without fail. He is not willing to die with- 
 out seeing you; for he wants to make a confession on which 
 the peace of his soul depends.' 
 
 Pan Michael who had listened to Zagloba's account of his 
 danger with great emotion, now sprang forward and, grasping 
 his arm, asked, "Is it Pan Yan?" 
 
 "No, not Yan, but Ketling!" 
 
 "For God's sake! what has happened him?" 
 
 "He was shot by one of Prince Boguslav's ruffians while 
 defending me; I know not if he can live for twenty-four hours. 
 It was on your account that we got into this trouble, for we 
 only came to Warsaw to try to find some way of consoling you. 
 Come, if only for two days, and soothe a dying man. You 
 can then return . . . you can become a monk. I have 
 brought the Primate's orders to raise no obstacle in your way. 
 Only hasten, for every moment is precious." 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "Good God!" exclaimed Pan Michael; "what do I hear? 
 There are no obstacles, for so far I am here only for medita- 
 tion. As God lives, the prayer of a dying man is sacred! I 
 cannot refuge that/' 
 
 "It would be a mortal sin!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 "True! It is always that traitor Boguslav. But may I 
 never return here if I do not avenge Ketling! I will find those 
 villains and cleave their heads in two! Great God! sinful 
 thoughts are already assailing me! Memento moril Wait here 
 only till I have put on my old clothes, for it is forbidden to 
 go outside in the habit." 
 
 "Here are some clothes!" cried Zagloba, springing to the 
 bundle lying on the bench beside them. "I foresaw and pre- 
 pared everything! Here are boots, a rapier, and a, good over- 
 coat." 
 
 "Come to the cell," said the little knight hurriedly. 
 
 They went to the cell and when they came out by the side 
 of Zagloba walked, not a white monk, but an officer with 
 yellow boots up to the knees, a rapier at his side and a white 
 scarf over his shoulder. Zagloba winked and smiled at the 
 frater at the door, who was evidently scandalized as he opened 
 the gate for the pair. 
 
 Lower down the hill not far from the monastery Zagloba's 
 carriage was waiting in charge of two attendants. One was 
 sitting on the seat holding the reins of four richly-harnessed 
 horses over which Pan Michael rapidly cast an experienced 
 eye. The other was standing beside the carriage with a crust- 
 ed, corpulent bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. 
 
 "It is quite a distance to Mokotov," said Zagloba, "and 
 sharp grief awaits us at Ketling' s bedside. . Take a drink, 
 Michael, to gain strength to stand it all, for you are greatly 
 run down." 
 
 Zagloba took the bottle from the hands of the servant 
 and filled both goblets with wine that was almost viscous 
 with age. 
 
 "This is generous liquor," said Zagloba, setting the bottle 
 on the ground and taking the goblets. "To the health of 
 Ketling!" 
 
 "To his health!" Pan Michael responded. "Let us hasten!" 
 
 They drained the goblets at a draught. 
 
 "Let us hasten," repeated Zagloba. "Pour out man," he 
 added turning to his attendant. "The health of Pan Yan! 
 Let us make haste!" 
 
PAN M1UHAUL. 35 
 
 Tkey again emptied the goblets at a draught, for there was 
 no time to lose. 
 
 "Let us take our seats," cried Pan Michael. 
 
 "But won't you drink my health?" asked Zagloba quer- 
 ulously. 
 
 "If you will be quick!" 
 
 And they again drank in haste. Zagloba emptied his gob- 
 let with one gulp, though it held half a quart, and then said, 
 without even wiping his moustache, "It would be ungrateful 
 of me not to drink your health, too. Pour out, fellow!" 
 
 "Thanks!" answered Frater Yerzy. 
 
 The bottom of the bottle was reached and Zagloba took it 
 by the neck and smashed it to pieces, for he could not bear 
 the sight of empty vessels. Then they hastily took their seats 
 and drove on. 
 
 The noble liquor soon put warmth into their veins and 
 gladness into their hearts. Frater Yerzy's cheeks gained a 
 bright color and his eyes brightened. 
 
 His hand rose involuntarily to his moustache and twisted it 
 upwards in sharp spikes to his eyes. Meanwhile he gazed 
 curiously about him as if taking notice for the first time. Sud- 
 denly Zagloba slapped his knees and cried without apparent 
 reason : 
 
 "Ho! ho! I hope the sight of you will restore Ketling to 
 health! Ho! ho!" 
 
 And putting his arms around Pan Michael's neck he began 
 to embrace him with all his might. The latter returned the 
 embrace with equal cordiality. 
 
 They drove on for some time silently but happily. Mean- 
 time small suburban houses began to dot both sides of the 
 road. In front of these there was considerable movement and 
 animation. In all directions people were walking, mingled 
 with servants in various liveries, soldiers, and richly robed 
 nobles. 
 
 "Crowds of the nobility have come to the Diet," said Zag- 
 loba; "for though not one in a hundred is a deputy, they all 
 want to be present to hear and see. The houses and inns are 
 so full that it is difficult to get a room, and what a lot of fine 
 women there are in the streets! You couldn't number them 
 on the hairs in your beard. The darlings are monstrous 
 pretty, too, so that a man is inclined to flap his wings and 
 crow like a cock. But look there! look at that brunette with 
 the haiduk carrying the green shuba behind her; isn't she a 
 beauty? Eh?" 
 
3 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Here Zagloha poked Pan Michael in the ribs with his fist 
 and Pan Michael looked and twirled his moustache; his eyes 
 sparkled, but in a moment his face fell, he bowed his head and 
 after a moment's silence, he said, "Memento moril" 
 
 But Zagloba embraced him again and exclaimed, Per amiti- 
 tiam nostram, "By our friendship, as you love and honor me, 
 get married. There are so many worthy women, get married!" 
 I Frater Yerzy gazed at his friend in amazement. Zagloba 
 I could not be drunk, however, because many a time he had 
 taken three times as much wine without its affecting liim, so 
 that he could only be speaking from his affection. But all 
 thoughts of marriage were far from Pan Michael at that mo- 
 ment, so that at first his surprise was greater than his in- 
 dignation. 
 
 Then he gazed sternly at Zagloba and asked: 
 
 "Are you drunk?" 
 
 "From the bottom of my heart I repeat, get married!" 
 
 Pan Michael's eyes became still more stern and he repeated, 
 "Memento mori" 
 
 But Zagloba was not one to be easily abashed. 
 
 "Michael, if you love me humor me in this matter and kiss 
 a dog's nose with your 'memento/ I repeat, you can please 
 yourself, but this is the way I argue: Let every man serve 
 God in his own vocation, and God created you for the sword: 
 his will is plainly shown since He has enabled you to become 
 such an expert in its use. If he had intended you to be a 
 priest he would have endowed you with an entirely different 
 mind and a stronger inclination to books and Latin. Remem- 
 ber also that in Heaven warrior-saints enjoy quite as much 
 honor as friar-saints, and that they battle against the legions 
 of Hell and receive their meed from God's own hand when 
 they return with captured standards. . . . You cannot 
 deny that this is true!" 
 
 "I do not deny it, and I know that you are a tough ad- 
 versary in a war of argument; but neither can you deny that 
 for sorrow the life of the cloister is better than that of the 
 world." 
 
 "Better, bah! All the. more reason then for avoiding the 
 cloister. The man is a fool who feeds instead of starving his 
 sorrow so that the brute may die of famine as soon as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 Pan Michael could find no ready reply and was therefore 
 silent, but alter a little he said sadly: 
 
PI IV MICHAEL. 37 
 
 "Do not speak of marriage, for the word only giv< 
 greater pain. Desire is dead in me, for tears have washed 
 it away and love i^ not I'or one of my years. My hair is begin- 
 ning to grow white. Forty-two years twenty-five of warfare 
 are no joke, no joke." 
 
 "0 God, do not punish him for blasphemy! Forty-two 
 years! Pshaw! I have more than twice as many on my back 
 and yet I sometimes have to discipline myself to beat the heat 
 out of my blood like dust out of clothing. Respect the mem- 
 ory of that sweet dead one. Michael, you were good enough 
 for her I suppose! Then how can you be too old or not good 
 enough for any other?" 
 
 "Leave me in peace! leave me in peace!" cried Pan Michael 
 in poignant accents. 
 
 And tears began to trickle down his cheeks. 
 
 "I won't say another word," said Zagloba; "only give me 
 your knightly word that you will stay with us for a month, 
 no matter what happens to Ketling. You must see Yan. . . 
 Afterwards, if you still desire to return to the cloister, no one 
 will try to prevent you." 
 
 "I give you my word," said Pan Michael. 
 
 And they began to talk of other matters. Zagloba told 
 about the Diet and how he had raised the question of exclud- 
 ing Prince Boguslav, and of Ketling's misfortune,. Never- 
 theless occasionally he suspended his tale and fell into deep 
 thought; apparently his meditations were cheerful ones, for 
 now and again he would slap his knoes and ejaculate: 
 
 "Ho! ho!" 
 
 "But as they neared Mokotov his face gave signs of anxiety. 
 Suddenly turning to Michael he said: 
 
 "Your word is passed, remember, that you will remain with 
 us for a month no matter what happens to Ketling." 
 
 "I passed my word and I will remain," answered Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 "Here is Ketling's lodging," cried Zagloba, "a respectable 
 place." 
 
 Than he called to the driver, "Fire off your whip! There 
 will be a feast in this house to-day." 
 
 Loud cracks of the whip were heard. But the carriage had 
 scarcely entered the gate when a number of Pan Michael's 
 lirothers in arms rushed out of the ante-room; among them 
 were also old comrades of the days of Khmyelnitski, and 
 young comrades of later days. Among the latter were Pan 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 Vasilevski and Pan Novovyeyski, still in early manhood 
 though they were already seasoned warriors, having run away 
 from school when mere boys and fought for some years under 
 Pan Michael. The latter had a very strong affection for 
 them both. 
 
 Among the older ones was Pan Orlik of the housa of Novin, 
 with a skull plated with gold where a. Swedish grenade had 
 once taken a piece out of it; and Pan Rushchyts, a half -savage 
 leader of the steppes, with few equals in border-warfare and 
 second only in reputation to Pan Michael himself; besides 
 several others. At the sight of the two in the carriage they all 
 began to shout: 
 
 "Thqre he is! there he is! Zagloba has won! There he is!" 
 
 And springing to the side of the carriage they seized Pan 
 Michael in their arms and carried him to the hall, crying: 
 
 "Welcome! dearest comrade, live for us! We have you 
 now and won't let you go again! Long live Volodyovski, the 
 first knight and ornament of the whole army! To the steppes 
 with us, Brother! To the wild plains! There the winds will 
 blow your sorrow away." 
 
 They set him down only in the entrance-hall. He was 
 much moved at his reception and greeted them all, but imme- 
 diately asked: 
 
 "How is Ketling? Is he yet alive?" 
 
 "Alive! alive!" 'they replied in chorus, and the old soldiers 
 began to smile queerly. "Go to him, for he cannot keep his 
 bed much longer; he impatiently awaits you." 
 
 "I see he is not so near death as Zagloba said." 
 
 They passed into a large room, in the middle of which was 
 a table spread for a feast; in one corner was a plank-bed cov- 
 ered with a white horse-robe on which Ketling was lying. 
 
 "My friend!" cried Pan Michael, hastening towards him. 
 
 "Michael!" cried Ketling, springing up in full health and 
 vigor and clasping the little knight to his breast. 
 
 They embraced each other so vigorously that each lifted the 
 other off his feet in turn. 
 
 "They ordered me to feign sickness," cried the Scotchman, 
 "to pretend to be dead; but when I saw you I could not keep 
 it up. I am as lively as an eel, and nothing has happened to 
 me. But it was a matter of getting you out of the cloister. 
 . . . Forgive us, Michael! It was for love of you that we 
 contrived this trick." 
 
 "To the wild steppes!" cried the officers again; and they 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ^ 
 
 raised a terrible din by striking their sabres with their horny 
 hands. 
 
 But Pan Michael was absolutely bewildered. For some 
 time he was silent and then he began to gaze at each in turn, 
 and Zagloba in particular. 
 
 At last he exclaimed, "Oh, traitors! I thought that Ketling 
 was mortally wounded/' 
 
 "How is this, Michael?" cried Zagloba. Are you provoked 
 because Ketling is well? Are you sorry for that and would 
 you rather have him dead? Has your heart so completely 
 turned to stone that you would be glad to see us all ghosts, 
 including Ketling, and Pan Orlik, and Pan Rushchyts and 
 these youngsters, nay, even Pan Yan, even me, me that 
 love you like a son?" 
 
 Here Zagloba shut his eyes and exclaimed in still more 
 lamentable tones: "We have nothing to live for, gentlemen, 
 there is no gratitude left in this world, callousness only re- 
 mains/ 7 
 
 "By Heaven! I do not wish you ill, but you have not re- 
 spected my sorrow,'' cried Pan Michael. 
 
 "Have pity upon our lives!" repeated Zagloba. 
 
 "Leave me in peace!" 
 
 He says we show no respect to his sorrow; but what floods 
 of tears we have shed for him, gentlemen! We have indeed, 
 Michael. I call God to witness that we wish we might bear it 
 for you as comrades should. But since you have promised to 
 stay with us for a month love us at least for that month." 
 
 "I will love you till death," said Pan Michael. 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by a fresh 
 arrival. The officers, engaged with Pan Michael, had not 
 heard his approach and saw him only when he stood in the 
 doorway. He was a man of great stature and noble form and 
 bearing. He had the face of a Roman Csesar; it expressed 
 power mingled with true kingly kindness and courtesy. 
 He contrasted strongly with the officer? present: he seemed 
 to gain in grandeur before them, as though the kingly eagle 
 had appeared suddenly in a flock of hawks, falcons, and 
 merlins. 
 
 "The Grand Hetman!" cried Ketling, springing up as the 
 host to welcome him. 
 
 "Pan Sobieski!" others exclaimed. 
 
 Every head bowed with deep respect. 
 
 "All except Pan Michael were aware that the Hetman was 
 
40 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 coming, for hd had promised Ketling to do so; and yet his 
 arrival had produced such an effect that no one dared to be 
 the first to speak. This was also unusual homage. But Sobi-j- 
 ski loved soldiers above all men, especially those with whom 
 he had so often broken and swept away the Tartar chamhuls; 
 he regarded them as his own children and therefore he had 
 determined to greet Pan Michael to condole with him and 
 show him such favor and honor as to induce him to remain 
 in the army. 
 
 After greeting Ketling, therefore he at once extended his 
 hand to the little knight and, when the latter approached 
 and embraced his knees, Sobieski laid his hand affectionately 
 on Pan Michael's head. 
 
 "Old soldier," he said, "the hand of God has bowed thee 
 to the earth, but I will raise and comfort thee. The Lord is 
 with thee! Thou wilt stay with us now." 
 
 "I will stay," said Pan Michael in a voice broken with sobs. 
 
 "That is well; give me as many as possible of such men as 
 thou. And now, old comrade, let us recall the days we spent 
 in the Russian steppes when we feasted in tents. I am happy 
 to be among you again. Our host, let us begin!" 
 
 And all cried, "Vivat Joannes dux." 
 
 The feast commenced and lasted long. 
 
 The following day the Hetman sent a very valuable cream- 
 colored charger to Pan Michael. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Ketling and Pan Michael mutually vowed to ride stirrup 
 to stirrup again should the opportunity occur, to sleep at the 
 same fire and with their he-ads on the same saddle, but in the 
 meantime something occurred to separate them. Not more 
 than a week after their reunion a messenger arrived from 
 Courland with tidings that the Hassling who had adopted 
 the young Scot and given him his estates had suddenly fallen 
 ill and greatly desired to see his adopted son. The young 
 knight did not hesitate, but mounted his horse and rode away. 
 
 Before departing he begged Zagloba and Pan Michael to 
 consider his house as their own and live there till they were 
 tired of it. 
 
 "Pan Yan may come," he said. "He will surely come 
 during the election and even if he brings all his children 
 there is room enough for the whole family. I have no rela- 
 tives; and even if I had any brothers they could not be any 
 nearer to me than you are." 
 
 Zagloba in particular was gratified with the invitation, for 
 he was very comfortable in Ketling's house; but Pan Michael 
 was also glad of it. 
 
 Pan Yan did not come, but Pan Michael's sister an- 
 nounced her arrival. She was the wife of Pan Makovyetska, 
 Stolnik 1 of Latychov. His messenger inquired at the Het- 
 man's residence if any of his followers knew of the knight 
 and Ketling's house was pointed out to him at once. 
 
 Pan Michael was greatly delighted for it was many years 
 since he had seen his sister and when he heard that for lack 
 of better accommodation she had stopped at Rybak at a mean 
 hut, he immediately hastened to invite her to Ketling's 
 house. 
 
 It was twilight when he rushed into her presence; but he 
 knew her immediately, though two other ladies were present, 
 for she was very short and round as a ball of thread. She 
 recognized him also; they fell into each other's embrace and 
 
 iStolnik pantler, a title of nobility in Poland. 
 (40 
 
41 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 for a long time they remained silent while he felt her warm 
 tears on his face. 
 
 Pani Makoveytska was the first to recover her speech and 
 began to say in rather thin and shrill accents: 
 
 "So many years! so many years! God help you dearest 
 brother! The moment I received tidings of your misfortune 
 I at once hastened to come hither and my husband did not 
 detain me. There is also talk of the Byalogrod Tartars and 
 the roads are becoming black with immense nocks of birds 
 and that always happens before an invasion. God console 
 you brother dear! Brother of gold! My husband had to 
 come to the election himself so he said: "Take the girls 
 and go on before me. You will comfort Michael in his sor- 
 row and you must hide your head somewhere from the Tar- 
 tars, for the country here will be in names, so that one thing 
 fits in with the other. Go to Warsaw while there is time to 
 hire good quarters so that we may have some place to dwell. 
 He is watching the roads with the inhabitants of those parts. 
 There are very few troops in the country as is always the 
 way. Michael beloved, come to the window and let me look 
 at you; your lips have grown thin, but in sorrow it cannot 
 be otherwise. In Russia it was easy for my husband to say 
 'Find lodgings T but they are nowhere to be had. We are in 
 this shanty. I have been scarcely able to get three bundles 
 of straw to sleep on." 
 
 "Allow me, sister," said the little knight. 
 
 But his sister would not allow and kept on talking like 
 the rattle of a mill. 
 
 "We stopped here, there was no other place. My host 
 glares at one with the eyes of a wolf; most likely they are 
 bad people in the house. It is true that we have four trust- 
 worthy attendants and we are not timid ourselves, for unless 
 a woman had a bold heart in our parts she could not live 
 there. I always carry a pistol with me and Basia has two; 
 but Krysia does not like firearms. But this is a queer place, 
 and we should like safer lodgings." 
 
 "Allow me, sister ..." repeated Pan Michael. 
 
 "But where are you staying, Michael? You must aid me 
 in finding lodgings, for you are acquainted with Warsaw." 
 
 "I have lodgings ready," interrupted Pan Michael, "and 
 they are fine enough for a senator to occupy with his train. 
 I am staying with my friend, Captain Ketling, and will take 
 you with me at once." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 43 
 
 "But recollect that there are three of us with two servants 
 and four attendants. But Good Heavens! I have not yet 
 introduced you to my two companinos." 
 
 Here she turned to them. 
 
 "Young ladies, you know who he is, but he does not know 
 who you are; you must make each other's acquaintance even 
 if it is dark. The stove has not yet been lighted. This is 
 Panna Krystina Drohoyovska and that Panna Barbara 
 Yezyorkovska. My husband is the guardian of them and 
 their property; they are orphans and live with us. It is not 
 proper for young ladies to live alone." 
 
 As his sister spoke Pan Michael made a military bow and 
 the young ladies took hold of their skirts and courtesied 
 and Panna Barbara tossed her head like a young colt. 
 
 "Let us take our seats in the carriage and go!" said Pan 
 Michael. "Pan Zagloba is staying with us. I asked him to 
 have supper ready." 
 
 "The famous Pan Zagloba?" quickly asked Panna Basia. 1 
 
 "Basia, be quiet!" said the lady. "I am afraid that we shall 
 be giving trouble!' 
 
 "Oh, if Pan Zagloba has anything to do with the supper 
 there will be enough even though twice as many should ap- 
 pear," interrupted the little knight. "And young ladies, 
 will you order out the trunks? I also brought a wagon for 
 the baggage and Ketlingfs carriage is so roomy that we four 
 can easily sit in it. This is my idea, if you have sober at- 
 tendants they can stay till the morning with the horses and 
 larger things. We will now take only what is most needed." 
 
 "We need not leave anything," said the lady, "for our 
 wagons have not yet been unpacked; just harness the horss 
 and they can go at once. Basia go and fill the orders!" 
 
 Basia darted into the hall and a few Paters later, returned 
 with the announcement that all was ready. 
 
 "Let us go," said Pan Michael. 
 
 They were soon in the carriage and on the way to Mokotov. 
 Pan Michael's sister and Panna Krystina occupied t/he rear 
 seat and the little knight sat beside Basia in front. It was 
 already so dark that they could not distinguish one another's 
 features. 
 
 "Are you acquainted with Warsaw, young ladies?" asked 
 
 'Basia and Bashknave, diminutives of Barbara ; Krysia, diminutive of Krys- 
 tina. The Sclavonic languages arc rich in diminutives and endearing names 
 ometimes expressing familiarity, love, pity, etc. 
 
44 P&X MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Michael, leaning towards Panna Krysia and raising his 
 voice above the clatter of the carriage. 
 
 "No," she answered in a low, but sweet and resonant voice. 
 "We are regular country girls and till this moment have 
 known neither famous cities nor famous men." 
 
 Then she slightly bowed as if intimating that she num- 
 bered Pan Michael among the latter; which reply he grate- 
 fully received. "A courteous maiden," he thought and be- 
 gan to rack his brains for an answering compliment. 
 
 "Even if the city were ten times as large as it is," said he 
 at last, "still you, ladies, would be its greatest ornament." 
 
 "But how can you tell that in the dark?" quickly asked 
 Panna Yezyorkovska. 
 
 "Aha, here is a goat for you!" thought Pan Michael. 
 
 But he said nothing and they drove along in silence for 
 some time. Basia again turned to the little kinght and 
 asked: 
 
 "Do you know if there is sufficient room in the stables? 
 We have ten horses and two carriages." 
 
 "Even if there were thirty they could be accommodated." 
 
 "Whew! whew!" answered the young lady. 
 
 "Bashka," said Pani Makovyetska, reprovingly. 
 
 "Ah, it is easy to say, 'Bashka, Bashka!' but who took 
 care of the horses during the whole journey?" 
 
 Thus conversing they arrived at Ketling's house. 
 
 All the windows were brilliantly illuminated to receive 
 the Pani Stolnikova. The servants hurried out, headed by 
 Pan Zagloba; on reaching the carriage and seeing three ladies 
 he immediately asked: 
 
 "Which of you ladies have I the honor to greet as my 
 particular benefactress and the sister of my best friend, 
 Michael?" 
 
 "I am she!" the lady answered. 
 
 Zagloba then took her hand and began fervently to kiss 
 it, repeating "I am your slave! I am your slave!" 
 
 Then he aided her to alight and led her with great cere- 
 mony and clattering of feet to the ante-room. 
 
 "Allow me to offer again my most humble welcome at the 
 threshold," he said on the way. 
 
 Meanwhile Pan Michael was helping the young ladies out 
 of the carriage. As it was high and the steps were hard to 
 find in the dark he seized Panna Krystina around the waist 
 and lifted her to the ground and she for an instant submitted 
 to the pressure of his breast against hers and said: 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 45 
 
 'Thank you/' 
 
 Pan Michael then turned to Panna Barbara; but she had 
 already jumped out on the other side of the carriage and 
 eo he offered his arm to Panna Krystina. 
 
 Inside the house they were introduced to Pan Zagloba. 
 lie was delighted to see the two young ladies and imme- 
 diately invited them to sit down to supper. The dishes 
 were already steaming on the table and, as Michael had fore- 
 seen, there was enough for twice as large a party. 
 
 They took their seats. Pan Michael's sister occupied the 
 first place; on her right sat Zagloba, and then came Panna 
 Basia. Pan Michael sat on the left next to Panna Krysia. 
 
 And now for the "first time the little knight was able to 
 take a good look at the ladies. 
 
 Both were handsome; but each in a different style. Kry- 
 sia's hair was black as a raven's wing, with brows to match, 
 her eyes were of a deep blue; though a brunette her com- 
 plexion was so delicate that the blue veins on her temples 
 were visible. A dark down scarcely discernible shaded her 
 upper lip, revealing a sweet and alluring mouth that slightly 
 pouted as if for a kiss. She was in mourning, for she had 
 recently lost her father and the sombreness of her dress to- 
 gether with her delicate complexion and dusky hair gave her 
 a certain severe and melancholy air. At the first glance she 
 seemed older than her companion but on looking more 
 closely Pan Michael could see that the blood of first youth was 
 ilowing beneath that transparent skin. The longer he gazed 
 the more he admired her air of distinction, her swan-like 
 neck, and her charming contours of maiden grace. 
 
 "She is a great lady with a noble soul," he thought, "but 
 the other is a regular hoyden." 
 
 In truth the comparison was a just one. 
 
 Basia was much more petite than her companion, though 
 by no means spare; she was light-haired and red as a bunch 
 of roses. Her hair 'had been cut short, as if after illness, and 
 she wore it in a golden net. But it would not stay still on 
 her restless head and the ends peeped out through each mesh 
 of the net and strayed over her brow in disorderly yellow 
 locks like the shock of a Cossack which, in combination with 
 her sharp restless eyes and saucy air, made that rosy face like 
 that of a schoolboy who is only waiting for a chance to 
 embroil others and himself escape punishment. 
 
 Still she was so fresh and shapely that it was difficult tf 
 
46 ^V MICHAEL. 
 
 take ones eyes off her; her diminutive nose was slightly re- 
 trousse with mobile and dilating nostrils and dimples in her 
 cheeks and chin, revealing a merry nature. 
 
 But now she was sitting in quiet dignity and eating heart- 
 ily, only glancing from time to time at Zagloba and Michael 
 in turn and gazing at them with a glance that was almost 
 childlike in its curiosity, as though at some great marvel. 
 
 Pan Michael was silent, for though he felt it incumbent 
 on him to entertain Panna Krysia, he did not know how to 
 begin. Generally speaking the little knight was not adroit 
 in conversing with ladies; but now he was more taciturn 
 than usual, for these maidens vividly recalled the dear one 
 who was dead. 
 
 Pan Zagloba entertained Pani Makovyetska with the re- 
 lation of Pan Michael's exploits and his own. Half way 
 through supper he began to tell how they had once escaped 
 with Princess Kurtsevich and Jendzian through an entire 
 chambul and how they two had hurled themselves against 
 the chambul to hinder the pursuit and save the princess. 
 
 Basia stopped eating and, resting her chin on her hand, 
 listened intently, occasionally shaking her locks, blinking her 
 eyes, 'and snapping her fingers at the most interesting places 
 and crying: 
 
 "Ah, ha! well, what next? what next?" 
 
 But when he came to the place where Kushel's dragoons 
 galloped up unexpectedly to their aid, fell upon the Tartars, 
 and rode on sabring them for half a mile, she could contain 
 herself no longer, but clapped her hands with all her might 
 and cried: 
 
 "Ah! I should have loved to be there, God knows I 
 should!" 
 
 "Bashka!" cried the plump little Pani Makovyetska in a 
 strong Eussian accent, "you are now among polite people; 
 avoid your 'God knows/ Great God! the only thing left 
 is for you to ejaculate, 'May the bullets strike me!' v 
 
 The maiden burst out laughing again in silvery tones sud- 
 denly placing her hands on her knees and said: 
 
 "May the bullets strike me! Auntie." 
 
 "0 my God, my ears will shrivel up! I beg the whole com- 
 pany's pardon," said the lady. 
 
 Then Bashka, anxious to obtain her aunt's pardon, sprang 
 from her seat and in doing so dropped her knife and spoons 
 under the table and then dived after them. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 47 
 
 The plump little lady could no longer restrain her laughter 
 and she had an extraordinary laugh, for she first began to 
 shake and tremble and then to pipe in a thin voice. The 
 merriment was general. Zagloba was in raptures. 
 
 "You see what trouble I have with her/' said Pani Mako- 
 vyetska convulsively. 
 
 "She is absolutely delightful, as God is dear to me/' cried 
 Zagloba. 
 
 Meanwhile Bashka had crawled from under the table; she 
 had found her knife and spoons, but had lost her net and 
 her hair was falling all about her eyes. She stood erect, and 
 with quivering nostrils, said: 
 
 "Aha, ladies and gentlemen, you make merry at my con- 
 fusion! Very well!" 
 
 "No one is laughing/ 7 said Zagloba in a tone that carried 
 conviction with it, "no one is laughing, no one is laughing! 
 We are only rejoicing that the Lord God has delighted us 
 with the presence of your ladyship." 
 
 After the meal they went into the salon. Seeing a lute 
 on the wall Panna Krysia took it down and began to finger 
 the notes. Pan Michael begged her to sing something to 
 its accompaniment and she answered with kindness and can- 
 dor: 
 
 "I am quite willing if it will relieve your soul of some of its 
 sadness." 
 
 "Thank you," answered Pan Michael gratefully looking at 
 her. 
 
 In a few moments she sang as follows; 
 
 " Knights, heed my tale, 
 Useless is mail, 
 Shields naught avail. 
 Strongest steel parts, 
 Cupid's keen darts 
 Pierce to all hearts." 
 
 "I cannot find words to thank you," said Zagloba as he 
 sat apart with Pan Michael's sister and kissed her hands, "for 
 coming yourself and bringing with you such lovely maidens 
 that the. very Graces might be their handmaids. That little 
 haiduk in particular pleases me, for a creature of that kind 
 banishes sorrow so that a weasel could not hunt mice more 
 successfully. In truth, what is grief but mice that consume 
 the grains of joy stored in our hearts. You, my benefactress, 
 must know that our late king, John Oasimir, was so fond 
 
4 8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 of my similes that he could not endure a day without them. 
 I had to compose proverbs and wise maxims for him. He 
 used to have them repeated to him at bedtime and his policy 
 was guided by them. But that is another matter. I hope 
 that our Michael will entirely forget his terrible misfortune 
 in the company of these delightful girls. You are not aware 
 that it is only a week since I dragged him out of the Camedoli 
 cloister where he wanted to take the vows; but I gained the 
 intervention of the nuncio 'himself who threatened the Prior 
 with turning all the monks in the monastery into dragoons 
 if he did not immediately let Michael go. That was no place 
 for him. Praise be to (rod! . . . Praise be to God! I 
 know him! if not to-day then to-morrow one of these two 
 will strike such sparks out of him that his heart will burn 
 like tinder/ 
 
 Meanwhile Krysia continued: 
 
 " If shields cannot save 
 The strong and the brave 
 From darts and the grave, 
 How shall a fair maid 
 Love's raiders evade ? 
 Whom turn to for aid ?" 
 
 "The fair maid has as much fear of those darts as a dog 
 has of meat/" whispered Zagloba to Pan Michael's sister. 
 "But confess, my benefactress, you did not bring those little 
 mice here without ulterior designs. They are maidens in a 
 hundred! that little haiduk in particular. I wish I were 
 as fresh as she! Has not Michael a cunning little sister, eh?" 
 
 Pani Makovyetska assumed a very knowing look, which, 
 however, did not at all become her honest simple countenance 
 and said, "I had my own thoughts, as is natural, women are 
 not lacking in shrewdness. My husband had to come here 
 for the election and I brought the girls on first, for with 
 us there is never anyone to see except Tartars. If any good 
 fortune should happen to Michael in consequence I would 
 make a pilgrimage to some miracle-working image." 
 
 "It will happen! it will happen!" said Zagloba. 
 
 "Both come of great houses and have property; which 
 also means something in these troublous times." 
 
 "You need not tell me that. The war has eaten up 
 Michael's fortune, though I know that he has some funds 
 out at interest with great nobles. More than once, gracious 
 lady, we captured great spoil; and though it was turned over 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 49 
 
 to the Hetman, still a part was shared 'according to sabres 7 
 in military parlance. More than once Michael's share was 
 o great that if he had saved it all he would have had a nice 
 fortune hy now. But a soldier takes no thought of the 
 morrow; he only enjoys himself to-day. And Michael would 
 have squandered all he possessed, if it had not been that I 
 always restrained him. You say then, gracious lady, that 
 these maidens are of gentle blood?" 
 
 "Krysia is of senatorial blood. It is true that our cas- 
 tellans of the border are not castellans of Cracow and few 
 people in the Commonwealth have ever heard of some of 
 them; but still he who has once occupied a senator's chair 
 bequeaths his splendor and power to his posterity. As to 
 connections Bashka 'almost surpasses Krysia." 
 
 "Really! I myself am descended from a king of the Mas- 
 sagetas so that I like to hear genealogies." 
 
 "Bashka does not come from such an exalted nest as 
 that, but if you care to listen, for in our parts we can tell 
 the degrees of kinship of every house on our fingers, she is 
 in fact related to the Pototskis and the Yazlovyetskis and the 
 Lasohes. You see, Sir, this is how it is." 
 
 Here Pani Stolnikova arranged the folds of her dress and 
 assumed a more comfortable position so that nothing might 
 interfere with her favorite story; she spread out the fingers 
 of one hand and prepared to tell off the ancestors with the 
 index finger of the other. 
 
 "Elizabeth, the daughter of Pan Yakob Pototski, by his 
 second wife, a Yazlovyetski, married Pan Yan Smyotanko, 
 banneret of Podolia." 
 
 "I have taken note of that," said Zagloba. 
 
 "From that union was born Michael Smyotanko, likewise 
 banneret of Podolia." 
 
 "IFm, a fine position," said Zagloba. 
 
 "He was first married to a Dorohosto no! to a ftojynski 
 no! to a Voronich! The deuce, I forget!" 
 
 "May she rest in eternal peace, whoever she was," said 
 Zagloba gravely. 
 
 "And as his second wife he married Panna Laschovna." 
 
 "I expected that! How did the marriage result?" 
 
 "Their sons died." 
 
 "Every joy of this world fades away." 
 
 "But of our daughters, the youngest, Anna, marrivd Yezy- 
 orkovski, of the house of Ravich, a commissioner for settling 
 4 
 
50 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 the boundaries of Podolia; if I am not mistaken he was after- 
 wards Sword-Bearer of Podolia." 
 
 "I remember, he was," cried Zagloba, in a tone of convic- 
 tion. 
 
 "From that marriage you see Bashka was born/' 
 
 "I see and moreover I see that at this moment she is taking 
 aim with Ketling's musket/ 7 In fact Krysia and the little 
 knight were engaged in conversation and Bashka was amus- 
 ing herself with aiming the musket at the window. 
 
 Pani Makovyetska began to tremble and call out at the 
 sight. 
 
 "You cannot imagine what I suffer with that girl! She 
 is a regular haydamak." 
 
 "If the haydamaks were all like her I would join them 
 immediately." 
 
 "Her head runs on nothing but arms, horses, and war. 
 Once she stole away from the house to hunt ducks with a 
 gun. She crept in somewhere among the reeds and was 
 looking about her when they suddenly parted and what do 
 you think she saw? The head of a Tartar stealing through 
 the reeds towards the village! Any other woman would have 
 been terrified and woe to her if she did not fire quickly! The 
 Tartar dropped into the water. Just think! she had dropped 
 him like a flash and what with, do you think? Duck-shot/' 
 
 Here the lady began again to shake and laugh at the Tar- 
 tar's misfortune and then added: 
 
 "And, to tell the truth, she saved us all, for an entire 
 chambul was advancing; but as she came and gave the alarm 
 we had time to escape to the woods with the servants. That 
 is what we always do!" 
 
 Zagloba's face was radiant and his eyes were blinking; he 
 sprang up, hurried across to the maiden, and before she had 
 noticed him, he had kissed her on the brow, saying: 
 
 "Take this from an old soldier for that Tartar among the 
 reeds." 
 
 She gave her golden locks a vigorous shake. 
 
 "Didn't he get in the neck?" she cried in her fresh child- 
 like voice that sounded so strangely at variance with her 
 words. 
 
 "You dearest little haydamak!" cried Zagloba with emo- 
 tion. 
 
 "But what is one Tartar? You gentlemen have cut them 
 down by the thousand, besides Swedes, and Germans, and 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 5 ! 
 
 Rakotsi's Hungarians. Wha't am I compared with you gentle- 
 men, knights who have no peers in the Commonwealth! I 
 know that well enough! 
 
 "I will teach you to wield the sabre since you are so cour- 
 ageous. I am rather heavy now, but Michael is also a 
 master." 
 
 At this offer she sprang to her feet and kissed Zagloba on 
 the shoulder and courtesied to the little knight, saying 
 
 "Many thanks for the promise: I know a little about it 
 already." 
 
 But Pan Michael was absorbed in conversation with Krysia 
 and therefore answered absently, 
 
 "Whatever you command." 
 
 Zagloba with a beaming face again took his seat beside 
 Pani Makovyetska. 
 
 "My gracious benefactress," he said, "I well know which 
 are the best Turkish sweetmeats, as I spent many years at 
 Stambul; but I also know that there is a whole universe 
 of people just hungry for them. How is it that no one has 
 hitherto coveted that maiden?" 
 
 "As God lives, they had no lack of wooers. But we jok- 
 ingly call Bashka the widow of three husbands, for at one 
 time three worthy cavaliers were all paying their addresses 
 to her at once, all nobles of our district, and heirs, whose re- 
 lationship I can explain to you in detail." 
 
 Pani Makovyetska spread out the fingers of her left hand 
 and extended her right index finger when Zagloba hastily 
 said: 
 
 "And what happned to them?" 
 
 "All three died in battle; so we call Basia a widow." 
 
 "H'm! but how did she support her loss?" 
 
 "With us you see it is a case of daily occurrence and it 
 is a rare thing for any man after reaching maturity to die 
 a natural death. Some of us even hold that it does not befit 
 a noble to die otherwise than in the field. How did Bashka 
 take it? Oh, she ^hed a few tears, poor girl, but principally 
 in the stable, for when anything troubles her tiki's where 
 she goes. Once I sent for her and asked 'Whom are you 
 grieving over?' 'All three' she answered. I saw from the 
 reply that she had not been pleased by any one in particular. 
 I think that as her head is full of other things slu- has not 
 yet met her fate; Krysia has been somewhat touched, but 
 Bashka perhaps not at all." 
 
j2 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "She will meet it!" said Zagloba. "Gracious lady you and 
 I understand that well enough. She will meet it!" 
 
 "It is predestined for all of us," said Pani Makovyetska, 
 
 "Exactly! You took the words out of my mouth." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the approach of 
 the young people. 
 
 The little knight had grown quite hold with Krysia and 
 she in the manifest goodness 'oi her heart, ministered to 
 him and his sorrow like a physican to a patient. ]Jor this 
 very reason perhaps she showed him more kindness than was 
 warranted by their short acquaintance. But as Pan Michael 
 was the brother of the Stolnikova to whose husband the 
 young r lady was related, no one was surprised. Bashka kept 
 somewhat; apart and only Zagloba gave her his undivided 
 attention. But however that might be, apparently it was 
 all the same to Bashka whether anyone paid her any at- 
 tention or not. At first she gazed admiringly at both knights, 
 but she examined Ketling's wonderful weapons displayed on 
 the walls with equal admiration. Later on she began to 
 yawn; then her eyes became heavier and heavier till at last 
 she said: 
 
 "I 'am so sleepy that I shall not be fully awake till the 
 morning." 
 
 At these words all immediately separated; for the ladies 
 were . greatly fatigued from the journey and only waited 
 for their beds to be made ready. At last when Zagloba found 
 himself alone with Pan Michael, he first began to wink 
 significantly and then to pummel him lightly. "Michael! 
 what, Michael, like turnips, eh? That bilberry Krysia is a 
 sweet one. And that rosy little haiduk, eh? What have you 
 to say about her, Michael?" 
 
 "What? Nothing!" answered the little knight. 
 
 "That little haiduk pleased me most. I tell you that when 
 I sat beside her at supper I was as warm as a stove." 
 
 "She is still a kid; the other is ever so much statelier." 
 
 "Parma Drohoyovska is a Hungarian plum; but the other 
 is a little nut! As God lives, if only I had teeth! I meant 
 to say that if I had such a daughter I would give her up to no 
 man but you. She is an almond, I say, an almond!" 
 
 Pan Michael suddenly became very sad, for he remembered 
 the names Zagloba used to call Anusia. She rose in his 
 memory and stood before him as in life, her figure, her 
 little face, her dark tresses, her joyousness, her words, and 
 
PAN MICHAEL, 
 
 Oo 
 
 looks. These were both younger, and yet she was a hundred 
 times dearer than any who had the advantage of youth. 
 
 The little knight covered his face with his hands and was 
 overcome with grief the more in that it was unexpected. 
 
 Zagloba was amazed and for some time kept silence and 
 gazed uneasily at him, finally he asked: 
 
 "Michael, what is the matter? tell me, for (rod's sake!" 
 
 Michael answered: 
 
 "So many are alive and walking through the world, but 
 my lamb is no longer among them; I shall see her never 
 again/ 7 
 
 Then his voice choked with anguish; he rested his brow 
 on the side of the divan and murmured through his clenched 
 teeth, "0 God! God! God!" 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Panna Basia insisted that Pan Michael should give her 
 some fencing lessons; he did not refuse though he put it off 
 for some days. He preferred Krysia; still, he liked Basia 
 very much; in fact it was impossible not to like her. 
 
 One morning the first lesson began, principally because 
 Basia boasted and asserted that that she was by no means a 
 novice in the art and that no ordinary person could stand 
 before her. 
 
 "An old soldier taught me," she said, "there are plenty of 
 them among us and it is notorious that our swordsmen have 
 no superiors. It is a question even whether you gentlemen 
 would not find your match/' 
 
 "What are you talking about?" cried Zagloba. "We have 
 no equals in the whole world/' 
 
 "I wish it might prove that even I am your equal. I do not 
 expect that, but I should like it." 
 
 "It it were pistol practice I also would take a hand," said 
 Pani Makovyetska, laughing. 
 
 Good heavens! the Amazons themselves must live in Laty- 
 chov," cried Zagloba. 
 
 Then he turned to Krysia: 
 
 "And what weapon does your ladyship handle best?" 
 
 "None," answered Krysia, 
 
 "Ah, ha! none!" cried Basia. And then, mimicing Krysia's 
 voice, she began to sing: 
 
 "Knights, heed my tale, 
 Useless is mail, 
 Shields naught avail. 
 Strongest steel parts, 
 Cupid's keen darts 
 Pierce to all hearts." 
 
 "She wields weapons of that kind; never fear," added Basia, 
 turning to Pan Michael and Zaglobe*- "In that she is a war- 
 rior of no mean skill." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 55 
 
 "Take your position, young lady!" said Pan Michael, try- 
 ing to cover his confusion. 
 
 "Oh, as God lives! if it should turn out as I think!" ex- 
 claimed Basia, flushing with pleasurable anticipation. 
 
 And she at once took up position with a light Polish sabre 
 in her right hand; she raised the left hand behind her, and 
 with breast advanced, head up, and nostrils dilating, she 
 looked so pretty and rosy that Zagloba whispered to Pan 
 Michael's sister: 
 
 "No flask, even if filled with Hungarian a century old, 
 would give such delight to gaze on it." 
 
 "Remember," said the knight to Basia, "I will only defend 
 myself; I will not once lunge. You may attack as rapidly as 
 you like." 
 
 "Very well. Say' when you want me to stop." 
 
 "I could stop the attack without a word, if I chose." 
 
 "How could you do that?" 
 
 "I could easily disarm a fencer like you." 
 
 "We shall see." 
 
 "We shall not, for on account of politeness I won't do it." 
 
 "There is no need of politeness in this case. Do it if you 
 can. I know I am not so skilful as you, but still I will not 
 allow you to do that." 
 
 "Then you permit it?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Oh, don't give permission, sweetest haiduk," said Zagloba. 
 "He has disarmed the greatest masters." 
 
 "We shall see!" repeated Basia. 
 
 "Let us begin," said Pan Michael, rather nettled at her 
 boasting. 
 
 They began. 
 
 Basia lunged terribly, skipping about like a colt in a field. 
 Pan Michael stood on one spot moving his sword ever so 
 slightly, as was his custom, and faying but little respect to 
 the assault. 
 
 "You brush me off like an annoying fly," cried the exasper- 
 ated Basia. 
 
 "I am not putting you to the test; I am giving you a les- 
 son," answered the knight. "That is good! Not at all bad for 
 a fair head! Steadier with the wrist!" 
 
 "For a fair head! Have at you for a fair head! have at 
 you have at you !" 
 
 But Pan Michael, although Basia used her best passes, had 
 
5 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 an impregnable guard. He purposely kept up a conversation 
 with Zagloba to show how little he cared for Basia's thrusts: 
 "Stand away from the window, you are in the lady's light, 
 and though a sabre is larger than a needle she has less experi- 
 ence with it." 
 
 Basia's nostrils dilated still more and her hair fell over her 
 nashing eyes. "Do you despise me?" she asked panting 
 rapidly. 
 
 "Not your person; God forbid!" 
 
 "Pan Michael, I hate you!" 
 
 "You have a graduate as your instructor in the art," an- 
 swered the knight. Again he turned to Zagloba: "God grant 
 that snow may soon fall." 
 
 "Here is snow! snow! snow!" cried Basia, giving thrust after 
 thrust. 
 
 "Basia, that is enough! you are quite out of breath," said 
 Pani Makovyetska. 
 
 "Now hold on to your sabre, for I am going to strike it 
 from your hand." 
 
 "We shall see!" 
 
 "There it is!" 
 
 And the little sabre, flying like a bird out of Basia's hand, 
 fell with a clatter near the stove. 
 
 "I dropped it myself unwittingly," she cried with tears in 
 her voice; and, recovering it she thrust again like lightning. 
 "Try it now!" 
 
 "There!" said Pan Michael. And a second time the sabre 
 lay beside the stove. 
 
 "That is enough for to-day," then said the knight. 
 
 Pani Makovyetska began to chatter more loudly than usual; 
 but Basia stood in the middle of the room humiliated, pant- 
 ing, and biting her lips to keep back the tears that suffused 
 her eyes notwithstanding her efforts. She knew that if she 
 gave way to tea,rs they woufd laugh at her all the more and 
 therefore tried her utmost to repress them; but finding that 
 it was beyond her power, she suddenly darted out of the room. 
 
 "For God's sake!" cried Pani Makovyetska, "she has cer- 
 tainly gone to the stable and in her heated condition will catch 
 cold. Someone must go after her. Kyrsia, don't you go!" 
 
 With these words she went out and, taking a warm shawl 
 from the hall hurried to the stable: Zagloba followed her, 
 being anxious about his little haiduk. Krysia wanted to go 
 too, but Pan Michael seized her by the hand. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 57 
 
 "You were forbidden, you heard! I will not release this 
 hand till they return." 
 
 And he kept hold of it. But that hand was as soft as silk. 
 He felt as if a warm current was running through those 
 slender fingers into his own frame and instilling delightful 
 sensations; so he took a firmer grasp. 
 
 A fleeting blush tinged Krysia's face. 
 
 "I see that I am taken captive." 
 
 "Whoever captured such a prisoner would have no reason 
 to envy even the Sultan, for the Sultan would gladly resign 
 half his dominions for her." 
 
 "But you would not sell me to the Infidels?" 
 
 "No more than I would sell my soul to the Devil !" 
 
 Here Pan Michael saw that momentary enthusiasm had 
 gone too far so he moderated it with: 
 
 "No more than I would sell my sister." 
 
 "That is the right word," said Krystina gravely. "I am 
 an affectionate sister to your sister and will be the same to 
 you." 
 
 "I thank you from my heart!" said Pan Michael, kissing 
 her hand, "for I am in great need of consolation." 
 
 "I know, I know!" replied the maiden, "for I also have suf- 
 fered a loss." Here a little tear fell from her eyelid and 
 trickled down to the corner of her mouth. 
 
 Michael gazed at the tear on the faintly shaded lip and at 
 length said: 
 
 "You are as kind as a real angel; I already feel consoled." 
 
 Krysia smiled sweetly: 
 
 "May God reward you." 
 
 Pan Michael felt that it would comfort him still more to 
 kiss her hand again, but at that moment his sister appeared. 
 
 "Basia took the shawl," she said, "but she is so upset that 
 she cannot be induced to come in. Pan Zagloba is chasing 
 her all over the stable." 
 
 In fact Zagloba, with mingled jest and entreaty, not only 
 chased Basia all over the stable but at last drove her into the 
 yard hoping to induce her to return to the house. She ran 
 awaw crying, "I will not go! Let me be frozen! I will not go! 
 I will not go!" At last seeing a ladder leaning against the 
 side of the house, she sprang up it like a squirrel and stopped 
 at the eaves of the roof. From her seat there she turned to 
 Pan Zagloba and called out half laughingly, "Well, I will go 
 if you will come up here after me." 
 
5 g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "What kind of a tom-cat do you think I am, little haiduk, 
 to crawl along roofs after you? Is this the way you requite 
 my love for you?" 
 
 "I love you also, but from the roof." 
 
 "Grandfather wants to have his way and grandmother hers. 
 Come down this moment!" 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 "It is quite laughable to see you take your defeat to heart 
 BO. You angry weasel, not only you but Pan Andrey who 
 was considered a master of masters was treated by Pan 
 Michael in the same way, and not in sport but in a duel. The 
 most celebrated swordsmen, Italians, Germans, and Swedes, 
 could not stand before him long enough for a Pater and here 
 is a gadfly that takes it to heart! Fie! be ashamed of your- 
 self and come down! Besides you are only a beginner." 
 
 "But I cannot endure Pan Michael!" 
 
 "God bless you! Is it because he is a past-master in what 
 you yourself want to know? You ought to like him all the 
 more." 
 
 Zagloba was not mistaken. Basia's admiration for Pan 
 Michael had increased in spite of her defeat; but she replied: 
 "Let Kryfeia love him." 
 
 "Come down! come down!" 
 
 "I won't." 
 
 "Very well then, stay there; but I will tell you one thing: 
 it is not quite the thing for a young lady to sit up on a ladder, 
 for she may afford the world an interesting exhibition." 
 
 "But I'm not," cried Basia, gathering in her skirts. 
 
 "I'm an old fellow, I won't stare my eyes out; but I'll call 
 the others in a moment and let them look at you." 
 
 "I'll come down!" cried Basia, 
 
 With that Zagloba turned away. "As God lives, there's 
 somebody coming!" he cried. 
 
 And in fact, round the corner of the house came young 
 Adam Novovyeyski who had arrived on horseback and tied 
 his horse at the side-gate and was coming round to enter by 
 the main entrance. On seeing him Basia was on the ground in 
 a couple of skips but it was too late. Unfortunately Pan 
 Adam had caught sight of her coming down the ladder and 
 stood still in confusion and surprise, blushing like a little girl. 
 Basia stood before him also covered with blushes till at last 
 she exclaimed: 
 
 "A second confusion!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 59 
 
 Pan Zagloba's sound eye twinkled with amusement; at 
 length he said: 
 
 "Pan Novovyeyski, a friend and subordinate of our 
 Michael, and this is Panna Drabinovska 1 , I meant to say 
 Yezyorkovska." 
 
 Pan Adam quickly recovered himself and being a quick- 
 witted soldier, though youthful, he bowed and lifting his eyes 
 to this vision of loveliness, said "God! roses bloom amid the 
 snow in Ketling's garden." 
 
 But as Basia bowed she muttered "For some other nose 
 than yours." Then she said most charmingly: 
 
 "Come into the house, I beg you. 7 ' 
 
 She led the way, and darting into the room where Pan 
 Michael and the others were sitting, said, referring to the Pan 
 Adam's red kontush: 
 
 "The red finch has come!" She then took.a seat, crossed 
 her hands, and pursed up her lips in the manner of a modest 
 and carefully trained young lady. 
 
 Pan Michael introduced his young friend to his sister and 
 Panna Krysia, and the former seeing another young lady 
 equally beautiful, but in a different style, was again con- 
 fused; however he covered his nervousness with a bow and to 
 regain his courage raised his hand to his budding moustache. 
 
 Twisting his fingers above his upper lip he turned to Pan 
 Michael and explained the object of his visit. The Grand 
 Hetman was anxious to see the little knight. So far as Pan 
 Adam could tell it was about some military matters, for the 
 Hetman had recently received letters from Pan Vilchkovski, 
 Pan Silnitski, Colonel Pivo and other commanders in the 
 Ukraine and Podolia with unfavorable reports of happenings 
 in the Crimea. 
 
 "The Khan himself and Sultan Galga who concluded a 
 treaties with us at Podhayets," proceeded Pan Adam, "wish 
 to observe the terms: but Budzyak is as restless as a beehive 
 at swarming-time. The Byalogrod tribes were also in a fer- 
 ment and are unwilling to obey either the Khan or Galga." 
 
 "Pan Sobieski has already told me of that and asked my 
 advice/' said Zagloba. "What do they now say about the 
 Spring?" 
 
 "They say that the first grass will certainly see a movement 
 of these vermin, and it will be necessary to stamp them out 
 a Second time," replied Pan Adam. 
 
 Wrabina is Polish for ladder. 
 
fo PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 As he said this he assumed the expression of a terrible Mars 
 and twisted his tiny moustache till his upper lip reddened. 
 
 Basia, who had very sharp eyes, observed this at once; 
 therefore pushing back her chair a little so that Pan Adam 
 might not see her, she pretended to twist her moustache in 
 imitation of the youthful knight. 
 
 Pan Michael's sister gazed at her with threatening eyes., but 
 at the same time she began to shake and with difficulty re- 
 strained her laughter. Pan Michael bit his lips and Krysia 
 lowered her eyes till her long lashes cast a shadow on her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "You are a young man," said Zagloba, "for an experienced 
 soldier." 
 
 "I am twenty-two years old and I have served my country 
 for seven years continuously; I ran away to the field from the 
 lowest class at school in my fifteenth year,'" he replied. 
 
 "He knows the steppe, and how to find his way through the 
 grass and fall on the raiders like a kite on a partridge," added 
 Pan Michael, "he is no ordinary warrior. The Tartar cannot 
 hide from his eyes in the steppes." 
 
 Pan Adam blushed with pleasure at receiving praise from 
 such famous lips in the presence of ladies. 
 
 He was not merely a falcon of the steppes, but a handsome 
 fellow in addition, dark, and tanned by the weather. His 
 face was seamed by a scar reaching from his ear to his nose 
 which was thinner on one side in consequence of the cut. He 
 had sharp eyes, accustomed to be on the look-out, with very 
 dark, meeting brows, that formed a kind of Tartar bow. His 
 head, close-cropped at the sides, was surmounted by curly 
 locks. Both his address and bearing pleased Basia and never- 
 theless she did not cease to mimic him. 
 
 "It is pleasant for an old man like me to see that a new 
 generation worthy of us is growing up," said Zagloba. 
 
 <c Not so worthy," protested Pan Adam. 
 
 "I like their modesty too. We shall soon see you in com- 
 mand." 
 
 "That has happened already!" cried Pan Michael. He has 
 been in command and gained victories by himself." 
 
 Pan Adam began to twist his moustache so vigorously thnt 
 he almost pulled it out. And Basia kept her eyes on him 
 end also lifted her hand to her mouth and imitated every 
 motion. 
 
 But the keen soldier quickly noticed that the eyes of the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 whole company were directed beyond him where the y 
 lady, whom he had sr<.-ji on the ladder, was sitting, and he at 
 once divined that it must be on account of something con- 
 nected with himself. 
 
 He went on talking as if he had not noticed it and played 
 with his moustache as before. At last he selected his chance 
 and turned round so suddenly that Basia had no time either 
 to turn her eyes away from him or to drop her hand. She 
 blushed furiously and, scarcely knowing what to do, rose 
 from her seat. A moment of general confusion followed. 
 
 "A third confusion!" suddenly cried Basia in her silvery 
 tones. 
 
 "Gracious lady," said Adam vivaciously, "I saw at once that 
 there was something going on behind me. I must confess 
 that I am anxious to have a moustache, but if I don't get one 
 it will be because I have fallen for my country, and in that 
 case I hope I shall merit the tears rather than the laughter 
 of your ladyship." 
 
 Basia stood still with downcast eyes and was quite abashed 
 by the knight's ingenuous words. 
 
 "You must pardon her," said Zagloba. "She is wild, be- 
 cause she is young, but she has a heart of gold." 
 
 And Basia, as if in confirmation of Zagloba's words at once 
 said in a low voice: "I beg your pardon . . . most earnestly." 
 
 Pan Adam immediately caught hold of her hands and 
 began to kiss them. "For God's sake, don't take it to heart! 
 I am not a savage. I ought to beg your pardon fcr having 
 spoiled your amusement. We soldiers are very fond of joking 
 ourselves. Mea culpal I will kiss these little hands again 
 and, if I have to kiss them till I obtain your forgiveness, for 
 God's sake don't forgive me till the evening!" 
 
 "You see this is a courteous cavalier, Basia!" said Pani 
 Makovyetska. 
 
 "I see he is," Basia answered. 
 
 "It is all right now," cried Pan Adam. 
 
 As he said these words he stood upright and instinctively 
 raised his hand to his moustache, but suddenly remembering: 
 himself, he burst into a hearty laugh. Basia joined him, and 
 the rest followed. They were all merry. Zagloba immedi- 
 ately ordered up a couple of bottles from Ketlin's cellar, and 
 all were at their ease. Pan Adam jingled his spurs again. -t 
 each other, passed his fingers through his hair and gazed 
 more ardently at Basia every moment. lie was immensely 
 
62 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 taken with her. He became very eloquent; and as he had 
 served under the Hetnian, lie had seen the world, and con- 
 sequently had something to talk about. 
 
 He told them of the Diet of Convocation, of its close, and 
 how in the senate the stove had fallen down beneath the in- 
 quisitive arbiters to the great amusement of everybody. At 
 last after dinner he went away with his eyes and heart full of 
 Basia. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The same day the little knight presented himself at the 
 Hetman's quarters; the latter gave orders to admit him at 
 once, and said to him: 
 
 "I must send Rushchyts to the Crimea to see what is going 
 on there, and induce the Khan to observe the treaties. Do 
 you want to take service again and take Ruehchyts' command? 
 You, Vilchkovski, Silnitski, and Pivo will keep an eye on 
 Dorosh, and the Tartars whom it is never possible to trust 
 entirely. 
 
 Pan Michael became, sad. He had devoted the flower of 
 his life to military service. For whole decades he had known 
 no rest; his life had been passed in fire, smoke, toil, sleep- 
 lessness, and hunger, without a roof to cover him, or a hand- 
 ful of straw to lie on. His sabre had shed rivers of blood. 
 He had neither settled down, nor married. Men not one- 
 hundredth part as worthy were enjoying the sweets of re- 
 ward, and had risen to honors, position, and government. He 
 was poorer now than when he first began to serve. And now 
 they wanted to use him again like an old broom. His heart 
 was sore because, just as he has f6und kind and tender hands 
 to dress his wounds, he receives the order to tear himself away 
 and betake himself to the wilderness, to the distant borders of 
 the Commonwealth, without consideration for his heart-wear- 
 inese. Had it not been for interruptions and delays and all 
 kinds of service he might have had at least a couple of years 
 of happiness with Anusia. 
 
 As he thought of all this his heart was filled with a prent 
 bitterness; but, as he did not think it befitting for a knight 
 to extol his own services, he simply answered: 
 
 "I will go." 
 
 Upon this the Hetma.n said: 
 
 "You are out of service, you can refuse. You know best 
 whether it is too soon for you." 
 
 To which Pan Michael replied: 
 
 "It is not too soon for me to die." 
 
 (63) 
 
64 PAK MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Sobieski strode up and down the' chamber several times 
 and at last halted before the little knight and laid his hand 
 confidentially on his shoulder. 
 
 "If your tears are not yet dried, the wind of the steppes 
 will dry them for you. All your life you have toiled, dear 
 soldier, toil on still! And should you ever reflect that your 
 services are not remembered nor rewarded, that you are not 
 permitted to rest, 'for buttered toast you have received a crust, 
 for a governorship wounds and for rest suffering, set your 
 teeth and say to yourself, 'For thee, my country!' Other con- 
 solation have I none; but, though no priest, I can assure that 
 by so doing you will go farther on a worn saddle than others 
 in a coach and six, and that gates will be opened to you tha* 
 are closed to them." 
 
 "For thee, my country!" said Pan Michael in his heart, 
 while marvelling that the Hetman had so readily divined his 
 thoughts. 
 
 Pan Sobieski took a seat before him and continued: 
 
 "I want to speak to you now not as a subordinate, but as 
 a friend, nay, as a father to his son. When we were undetr 
 fire at Podhayets and earlier, in the Ukraine, when we wert 
 scarcely able to hold our own against the foe, here at home 
 behind our backs wicked men were wrangling over their own 
 selfish ends in safety. Even in those days, more than once I 
 came to the conclusion that this Commonwealth must perish. 
 Excess overbears order and the public good is too often sacri- 
 ficed for self-interest. . - . This has never happened any- 
 where else to such an extent. . . These thoughts consumed 
 me by day in the field and by night in the tent, for I said to 
 myself: 'No, it is true that we soldiers are in an evil case, but 
 it is our duty and our portion. If only we were sure that sal- 
 vation also accompanies the blood that flows from our 
 wounds!' But we had not even that consolation. Ah! I 
 passed many a heavy day in Podhayets, though I exhibited a 
 cheerful countenance to you officers lest you should think that 
 I despaired of victory in ihe field. I thought, 'There are no 
 men that really love the country, none!' And it hurt me as 
 though a knife had been plunged into my heart. One day, 
 however, the last at Podhayets, when I sent you with two 
 thousand against twenty-six thousand of the horde, and you 
 all sprang to apparent death, to certain slaughter, with such 
 shouting and gladness as though you were going to a wed- 
 ding, suddenly the thought struck me, 'Ah, these warriors 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 65 
 
 are mine!' and in an instant God rolled away the stone from 
 11 iv 1 1 part and everything was clear to my eyes. I said to my- 
 self, 'These are facing death out of pure love for their mother 
 country; they will not join themselves to confederacies or 
 traitors. Of these I will form a sacred brotherhood, a school 
 in which the younger generation shall learn. Their example 
 will have influence and by their means this ill-fated people 
 shall be regenerated and shall put away selfishness and forget 
 excess and be as a lion that feels a marvellous strength in his 
 limbs and astonish the world! 7 '' 
 
 Here Sobieski's f'ace flamed and he raised his head, which 
 was like that of a Koman Caesar, and extending his hands, he 
 cried: "0 Lord! write not 'Mene, Menfe, Tekel, Peres!' on 
 our wall and permit me to regenerate my country!" 
 
 A moment's silence followed. 
 
 Pan Michael sat with bowed head and felt his whole body 
 quivering. 
 
 The Hetman strode rapidly up and down the room for some 
 time, and at last halted before the little knight. 
 
 "\Ve need examples," he cried, "examples every day to 
 strike the attention. Michael! I have counted you in the first 
 rank of the brotherhood. Do you desire to belong to it?" 
 
 The little knight arose and clasped the Hctman's knees. 
 
 "See," he cried in tones of emotion, "when I heard that I 
 must march again I felt myself wronged and that I was en- 
 titled to some leisure for the indulgence of my sorrow; but 
 now I see that I sinned, and, . . . and, ... I repent of my 
 thoughts and can find no words, for I am ashamed. . . . 
 
 The Hetman pressed Pan Michael to his heart in silence. 
 "There is only a handful of us," he said, "bu-t others will 
 follow our example." 
 
 "Where am I to go?" asked the little knight. "I could even 
 go 1o the Crimea, for I have already been there." 
 
 "No," the Hetman answered, "I will send Pan RushchyU 
 to the Crimea. He has relations there and even namesakes, 
 cousins who were captured by the horde when young and have 
 l)opmu o 1 Mussulmans and risen to office among the Infidels. 
 They will give him aid of all kinds. Besides I need you in 
 the field; there is not your equal in handling the Tartars." 
 
 "When shall I go?'" 
 
 "In two weeks at farthest. I have .yet to confer with the 
 Vice-Chancellor and Sul)-Tro:i?nror of the kingdom and get 
 *.ho li'ttcrs and in^i rue! inns roudy for Rushchyts. But be pre- 
 '. for I shall be urgent." 
 5 
 
66 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "To-morrow I shall be ready." 
 
 "God reward you for the willingness, but so soon is need- 
 less. Moreover you will not be away long, for if peace only 
 lasts, I shall need you in Warsaw during the election. You 
 have heard of the various candidates. What is said of them 
 among the nobles ?" 
 
 "I have not long been out of the cloister and there worldly 
 matters are not discussed. I only know what I have heard 
 from Pan Zagloba." 
 
 "True: I can get information from him; he has an etxtensive 
 acquaintance among the nobles: but whom are you thinking 
 of voting for?" 
 
 "I do not know myself; but I think that we need a war- 
 rior king." 
 
 "Yes, yes! I also have such a man in mind: one whose 
 name alone would strike terror into our neighbors. We need 
 a warrior-king such as Stefan Batory was. But farewell, little 
 soldier! . . . We need a warrior-king. . . Repeat that to 
 everybody. . . Farewell. God reward you for your readi- 
 ness! . . . 
 
 Pan Michael took his leave and departed. 
 
 He meditated along the road. He was glad that he had a 
 week or two before him, for Krysia's friendship and consola- 
 tion had become dear to him. He was also glad to think that 
 he would return for the election and he went home contented 
 on the whole. The steppes moreover had a certain charm for 
 him; without being conscious of it he was yearning for them. 
 He was so accustomed to those limitless stretches on which the 
 horseman has more the feeling of a bird than a man. 
 
 "No, I will go to those limitless tracts, to those stanitsas 
 and dunes to taste the old life once more, to campaign again 
 with the soldiers, to stand sentinel over the border like a 
 crane and sport among the grass in the Spring. . . No. . . 
 *E will go, I will go!" 
 
 And he urged his horse into a gallop, as he felt the want 
 of rapid motion and the whistle of the wind in his ears. It 
 was a clear and dry and frosty day. The ground was covered 
 with frozen snow which crunched under the horse and was 
 thrown off in balls by his flying hoofs. Pan Michael went so 
 fast that his attendant on an inferior mount was left far 
 behind. 
 
 It was sunset; the last light was in the sky casting violet re- 
 flections on the snowy expanse. Through the glow the first 
 
PAX MICHAEL. 67 
 
 twinkling stars were coming into view and the moon hung 
 like a silver sickle. The road was deserted; now and then the 
 knight passed an occasional carriage and galloped on without 
 pause. Not till Ketling's house came into sight did he draw 
 rein and allow his attendant to overtake him. 
 
 Suddenly he saw a. slender form approaching. 
 
 It was Krysia. 
 
 On recognizing her Pan Michael at once dismounted, hand- 
 ed the rein to his attendant and hastened towards her in con- 
 siderable surprise, but greater pleasure at seeing her. 
 
 "Soldiers say," he said, "that at twilight supernatural be- 
 ings are to be met with who are sometimes of good omen and 
 sometimes bad; but there can be no better omen for me than" 
 meeting you." 
 
 "Pan Adam has come," said Krysia, "and is with Bashka 
 and Pani Makovyetska. I slipped out on purpose to meet you 
 as I was anxious to hear what the Hetman had to say." 
 
 Pan Michael's heart was touched by the sincerity of the 
 words. He gazed into her eyes and asked, "Are you really so 
 concerned about me?" 
 
 "I am," Krysia answered in a low tone. 
 
 Pan Michael could not take his eyes off her; she had never 
 looked so beautiful to him before. She had a satin hood on 
 her head and white swan's-down surrounded her small delicate 
 face on which the moonlight was falling, shining softly on her 
 noble brows, downcast eyes, long lashes, and the dark, almost 
 invisible down on her lip. There was an expression about it 
 of calmness and extreme purity. Pan Michael felt how friend- 
 ly and dear it was to him, and said: 
 
 "If it were not for the attendant behind, I should fall at 
 your feet on the snow in gratitude." 
 
 And she answered : 
 
 "Sir, do not say such things, for I am unworthy of them, 
 but reward me by saying that you will stay with us and that 
 I may comfort you longer/'* 
 
 "I shall not stay," he replied. 
 
 Krysia suddenly halted. 
 
 "That cannot be." 
 
 "Military service, as usual! I go to Russia and the Steppes." 
 
 "Military service!" Krysia repeated. 
 
 And silently pho hastened toward? the house. Pan Michael, 
 somewhat disturbed, marched quickly at her side. He had a 
 dull and oppressed sensation in his mind. He wanted to say 
 
68 PA* MICHAEL. 
 
 something; he wanted to renew the conversation and did not 
 know how to begin. He felt that tlu.ru were a thousand 
 things he wanted to say to Krysia and now was the time, while 
 they were alone, and no one in the way. 
 
 "If I begin," he reflected, "I shall go farther/' so he sud- 
 denly asked: 
 
 i'Has Pan Adam been here long?" 
 
 "Not long." 
 
 And again the conversation ceased. 
 
 "That's not the way," thought Pan Michael, "I shall never 
 say anything so long as I commence in that manner. It is 
 evident that sorrow has consumed my few remaining wits." 
 
 And he marched on in silence, his lips working nervously. 
 As they reached the door he stopped and said: "Think! if I 
 deferred my happiness for so many years, it was to serve my 
 country, so how can I now refuse to neglect my own comfort ?" 
 
 Pan Michael thought that such a plain argument would at 
 once convince Krysia, and indeed after a pause she answered 
 sadly and sweetly: 
 
 "The better one knows Pan Michael the more one learns 
 to respect and honor him." 
 
 She then entered the house. Bashka's cries of "Allah, 
 Allah!" reached them in the hall, and when they entered the 
 salon they saw Pan Adam in the middle of the room blind- 
 folded and bending forward with outstretched arms trying to 
 catch Bashka, who was hiding in the corners and revealing 
 her whereabouts with her cries of "'Allah !" Pani Makovyetska 
 was near the window engaged in conversation with Zagloba. 
 
 The entrance of Krysia with the little knight interrupted 
 the game. Pan Adam took off the handkerchief and ran to 
 greet Pan Michael. Immediately after came Pani Stolnikova, 
 Zagloba, and the breathless Bashka. 
 
 "What is it? What is it? W T hat did the Hetman say?" 
 they all asked in chorus. 
 
 "Sister," replied Pan Michael, "if you want to send a letter 
 to your husband, you have an opportunity, as I am going to 
 Russia." 
 
 "Is he sending you? By the living God, do not take service 
 yet, do not go!" cried his sister in piteous tones. "Will they 
 not allow you even a moment's rest?" 
 
 "Is your command already appointed?" asked Zagloba, 
 gloomily. "The lady-stolnik is right in saying that they are 
 threshing you as with flails!" 
 
PAX Mll'UAEL. 6 9 
 
 "Rushchyts is going to the Crimea and I take his squadron; 
 for, as Pan Novovyeyski has already said, the roads will cer- 
 tainly be black with foes in the Spring." 
 
 "Are we to be the only ones to protect this Commonwealth 
 from thieves, as a dog guards a house?" cried Zagloba. "Other 
 men don't know which end of a musket to fire off, but there's 
 no rest for us." , 
 
 "No matter! I've nothing to say," replied Pan Michael. 
 "Duty is duty! I have given my word to the Hetman that I 
 will go, and a little sooner or later makes little difference." . . . 
 
 Here Pan Michael repeated the argument he had used with 
 Krysia : 
 
 "You see, ladies, I have deferred my own happiness for so 
 many years to serve the Commonwealth, that how can I con- 
 sistently refuse to resign the pleasure I find in your com- 
 pany?" 
 
 Nobody made any answer to this, but Bashka approached 
 him with her lips pouting like a fretful child and said: 
 
 "I am sorry for Pan Michael." 
 
 Volodiyovski laughed merrily. 
 
 "God grant you good fortune! Only yesterday you said that 
 von could endure me no more than a wild Tartar." 
 
 "A Tartar! What! a Tartar? You will be fighting out 
 there against the Tartars and here we shall be lonely without 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, little haiduk, console yourself (forgive my calling you 
 by that name, but it suits you wonderfully well). The Het- 
 man said that my command would not last long. I shall de- 
 part in a week or so and must be back in Warsaw for the elec- 
 tion. The Hetman himself desires it, and I shall be here even 
 though Rushchyts does not return from the Crimea in May." 
 
 "Oh, that is delightful!" 
 
 "I will accompany the colonel, I most certainly will," cried 
 Pan Novovyeyski, with a swift glance at Bashka; and she re- 
 plied: 
 
 "There will be many like you. It must be a pleasure to 
 serve under such a commander. Go, go! It will make it pleas- 
 anter for Pan Michael." 
 
 The young man only sighed and passed his hand across his 
 brow; at last, stretching out his arms as if playing hoodman 
 blind, he said: 
 
 "But I must first catch Panna Barbara! I certainly must 
 catch her." 
 
70 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Allah! Allah!" cried Bashka, retreating. 
 
 Meanwhile Krysia approached Pan Michael with a radiant 
 and joyous face." 
 
 "But you are not kind to me, Pan Michael; you are kinder 
 to Bashka than to me." 
 
 "I, not kind! I, kinder to Bashka!" asked the astonished 
 knight. 
 
 "You told Bashka that you were coming back for the elec- 
 tion; if I had known that I should not have taken your de- 
 parture so greatly to heart." 
 
 "My golden " cried Pan Michael. 
 
 But immediately he checked himself and said: 
 
 "My dear friend, I told you little because I had lost my 
 head." 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Pan Michael gradually began to make preparations for his 
 departure; however he did not cease giving lessons to Basia 
 whom he liked more and more, nor taking solitary walks with 
 Krysia, seeking solace in her society. Moreover he seemed 
 to find it, for he daily recovered good spirits and in the even- 
 ings he would even join Basia and Pan Adam in their games. 
 
 The latter became a welcome guest. He came in the morn- 
 ing or at noon and stayed till night; as everybody liked him 
 they were glad to see him, and very soon began to regard him 
 as one of the family. He accompanied the ladies to Warsaw, 
 left their orders at the mercers', and in the evening played 
 with them at hoodman-blind and patience, repeating that 
 he must certainly catch the unattainable Basia before his de- 
 parture. 
 
 But she laughed and always escaped him, though Zagloba 
 said to her: "If he does not finally catch you, someone else 
 will." 
 
 It became more and more evident that he himself had de- 
 termined to catch her. This must have occurred even to the 
 haiduk herself, for she sometimes fell into such deep thought 
 that her locks fell into her eyes. Pan Zagloba however, had 
 reasons of his own for thinking Pan Adam unsuitable. One 
 night when they had all retired he knocked at the little 
 knight's door. 
 
 "I am sorry that we must part," he began, "so I came to 
 take a good look at you: God only knows when we shall see 
 each other again." 
 
 "I shall certainly come to the election," said Pan Michael, 
 embracing his old friend, "and I will tell you the reason. The 
 Hetman wants to have present as many men as possible who 
 are beloved of the Little Knights so that they may win over 
 the nobles for his candidate; and because God be thanked 
 my name has some weight in the brotherhood, he wants me to 
 come without fail. He reckons on you also." 
 
 "Indeed! he is trying to catch me with a big net; but I am 
 
 (70 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 not blind and though I am rather large I can crawl through 
 any mesh in it. I will not vote for a Frenchman." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because he would want absolute dominion." 
 
 "Conde would have to swear to the pact like anyone else; 
 and he is a great leader, he is famous for warlike deeds." 
 
 "With God's help we shall not have to go to France in 
 search of a leader. Pan Sobieski himself is surely not 
 Conde's inferior. Think Michael! the French wear stockings 
 like the Swedes and so of course like them they keep no oaths. 
 Charles Gustavus was willing to take an oath every hour. To 
 them taking an oath or cracking a nut is all one. What is 
 the value of a pact when a man is not honest?" 
 
 "But the Commonwealth is in need of defence. Oh, if 
 Prince Yercmy were only alive! We would elect him king 
 unanimously." 
 
 "His son is alive, and the same blood." 
 
 "But not the same courage. It is pitiful to look at him, 
 for he is more like a lackey than a prince of such noble blood. 
 If only the times were different! But now our first consider- 
 ation must be the good of the country. Pan Yan says the 
 same thing. I will do as the Hetman does, for I believe in 
 his devotion to the Commonwealth as I do in the Gospels.'' 
 
 "There is time to think about it. It is too bad that you 
 have to go now." 
 
 "What will you do?" 
 
 ""I shall go to Pan Yan. The young fellows worry me at 
 times, but when I stay away for long I feel lonely without 
 them." 
 
 "If war follows the election Pan Yan also will take the 
 field. Who knows? you may do so yourself: we may yet 
 campaign in company in Eussia! What a lot of good and evil 
 you and I have passed through in those regions!" 
 
 "True indeed! our best years were spent there. Sometimes 
 the desire comes over me to visit again all the scenes of our 
 triumphs." 
 
 "Then accompany me now. We shall be jolly together. In 
 five months we will return to Ketling. He and Pan Yan will 
 be here then." 
 
 "N"o Michael! this is not the time for me; but I promise 
 that if you will marry some landed lady in Russia I will come 
 and see you settle down," 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 73 
 
 Pan Michael looked somewhat confused, but immediately 
 answered: 
 
 "How should I be thinking of marriage? The best proof 
 to the contrary is that I am returning to active service!" 
 
 "That is what troubles me: I used to think that if not one 
 it would be another woman. Michael, trust in God; stay 
 here; where will you find a better chance than this one. Re- 
 member that the day will come when you will say: 'Every- 
 body else has 'a wife and children, but I am alone, like 
 Machek's pear-tree, standing in the field/ And grief and sad 
 longings will take possession of you. If you had married that 
 dear dead one, if she had left children, I should not worry 
 you, I should have something on which to spend my affections 
 and certain hope of solace, but as things are now the time 
 must come when you will look around for a close companion 
 in vain and ask yourself, 'Am I in a strange land?' '' 
 
 Pan Michael was silently meditating; so Zagloba resumed 
 his discourse while sharply scanning his features: 
 
 "In my own heart at first I chose yonder rosy haiduk for 
 you: in the first place she is gold, and not a mere girl; and in 
 the second there have never yet been such fierce fighters as 
 you would give to the world." 
 
 "She is a whirlwind; besides, Pan Adam wants to strike fire 
 with her." 
 
 "That's just it! To ? day she would certainly give you the 
 preference, for she is in love with your fame; but when you 
 go and he stays, I know he will stay, the rascal! because war 
 has not broken out yet, who can say what may happen?" 
 
 Basia is a whirlwind! Let Pan Adam take her. I wish 
 him well, for he is a brave fellow." 
 
 "Michael!" cried Zagloba, bringing his hands together, 
 "think what an offspring you would have!" 
 
 To this the knight simply replied: 
 
 "I knew two brothers Bal whose mother was also a Drohoy- 
 ovski and they were splendid soldiers!" 
 
 "Ah' I was expecting that. Is that the way the wind 
 blows?" cried Zagloba. 
 
 Pan Michael was greatly confused; at length he exclaimed, 
 "What's that you say? There is no special direction; but 
 when I was thinking of Basia's courage, which is really quite 
 cavalier-like, the thought of Krysia naturally arose; she is 
 more womanly. When one is mentioned the other naturally 
 occurs as they are together." 
 
74 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Well, Well! God give you luck with Krysia, though as he 
 is dear to me, if I were young i should fall desperately in 
 love with Basia. In war time you would have no need to 
 leave her at home. You could take her to the field and keep 
 her by your side. Such a woman would be good to have in 
 the tent and even when it came to fighting she could use a 
 musket with one hand. And she is good and upright. Oh, 
 my haiduk, my darling little haiduk, they have not under- 
 stood you here and have treated you ungratefully; but if I 
 were some three score years younger I know what sort of 
 Pani Zagloba I would have in my house." 
 
 "I have no fault to find with Basia." 
 
 "It is not a question of finding fault with her, but of find- 
 ing her a husband. But you prefer Krysia." 
 
 "Krysia is my friend." 
 
 "Your friend, not your beloved? That must be because 
 she has a moustache. I am your friend, so is Pan Yan, and 
 so is Ketling. You have no need of a man for a friend, but a 
 woman. Acknowledge it frankly to yourself and do not 
 hoodwink yourself. Michael, guard against a friend of the 
 fair sex, even though that friend has a moustache, for either 
 you will betray her or you yourself will be betrayed. The 
 Devil never sleeps and he is happy to sit between such friends; 
 as witness Adam and Eve, who were friends till that friend- 
 ship became a bone in Adam's throat." 
 
 "Don't do anything to offend Krysia, I won't allow that!" 
 
 "God guard Krysia! My little haiduk has no superior, but 
 Krysia is a good girl too. I have nothing at all to say against 
 her, but I say this to you: When you sit beside her your cheeks 
 are as red as though they had been pinched, you twirl your 
 moustache, your hair crisps and you move your feet and stamp 
 like a ring-dove; all of which are signs of desire. Talk to 
 somebody else of friendship; I am too old a bird for that kind 
 of talk." 
 
 "So old that you see things that don't exist." 
 
 "Would that I were mistaken! Would that it were a 
 question of my haiduk! Good-night Michael! Take the 
 haiduk; the haiduk is the handsomer. Take the haiduk; take 
 the haiduk!" 
 
 Zagloba arose and departed. 
 
 Pan Michael tossed about the whole night; he could not 
 sleep for disturbing thoughts kept running in his head. 
 Krysia's face was constantly before him with her long-lashed 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 75 
 
 eyes and downy lip. Now and then he would fall into a 
 light slumber but the vision remained. When he woke Zag- 
 loba's words recurred to his mind and he reflected how rarely 
 that man's judgment was at fault. Sometimes between sleep- 
 ing and waking Basia's rosy face glowed before his eyes and 
 the image tranquillized him; but Krysia soon supplanted her. 
 The poor knight now turns to the wall and sees her eyes; then 
 stares into the darkness and still sees them and in them a 
 look of languor and allurement. At such moments those 
 eyes seem to be closing as if saying 'Thy will be done'/ Pan 
 Michael sat up in bed and crossed himself. Towards morn- 
 ing the dream entirely took flight and left oppression and a 
 bitter taste behind. He was overcome with shame, and bit- 
 terly began to reproach himself because the image of the be- 
 loved dead was not before him; that his eyes, heart and soul 
 were full not of her but of the living. He felt that that he 
 had sinned against the memory of Anusia, therefore he shook 
 himself a couple of times, and springing out of bed, though it 
 was still dark, he began to say his morning Paternoster. 
 
 When he had finished he put his hand on his brow and 
 said: 
 
 "I must go away as soon as possible and at once curtail this 
 friendship, for it may be that Zagloba is right." 
 
 He then went down to breakfast with more calm and cheer- 
 fulness. After breakfast he fenced with Basia and noticed 
 for the first time how undeniably attractive she was, her di- 
 lating nostrils and panting breast made her very alluring. He 
 avoided Krysia who noticed it and gazed at him in surprise, 
 but he would not meet her glance. It cut him to the heart 
 to do it but he persisted. 
 
 After dinner he went out with Basia to the storehouse where 
 Ketling kept another collection of arms. He showed her the 
 various weapons and explained their use. Then they shot at 
 a tnrgct with Astrachan bows. 
 
 The sport delighted Basia who grew wilder than ever, till 
 Pani Makovyetska. had to reprove her. Thus passed 'the day. 
 On the next Pan Michael accompanied Zagloba to the Danil- 
 ovich Palace in Warsaw to learn the date of his departure. 
 In the evening he informed the ladies that he would certainly 
 leave in a week's time. 
 
 As he said it he tried to use a careless and joyous tone. He 
 did not even glance at Krysia. 
 
 The troubled girl asked various questions, to which he 
 
7 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 made polite and friendly replies, but addressed most of hip 
 conversation to Basia. 
 
 Thinking that this was the result of his advice, Zagloba 
 rubbed his hands with delight; but as. nothing could escape 
 his eye he observed Krysia's sadness. 
 
 "She has changed," he thought, "she has visibly changed. 
 Well, that's nothing, the usual way with fair faces! But 
 Michael has altered his course sooner than 1 had dared to 
 hope. He is one in a hundred: he always was a tempest in 
 love and a tempest he will remain!" 
 
 In reality Zagloba had a kind heart and was sorry for 
 Krysia. 
 
 "I will not say anything to her directly," he thought, "but 
 I will think of some way of consoling her." 
 
 So taking advantage of the privilege of age and white hairs, 
 he went to her after supper and began stroking her black, 
 silky hair. She sat quite still, merely raising her gentle eyes 
 to his face in surprise at his tenderness, but feeling grateful. 
 
 That night at Pan Michael's door Zagloba poked him in 
 the ribs and said: 
 
 "Well! No one can beat the little haiduk?" 
 
 "A delightful kid," answered Pan Michael. She will make 
 as much noise in the house as four drummers, a regular 
 drummer!" 
 
 "A drummer! God grant that she may accompany your 
 drum as soon as possible!" 
 
 "Good-night!" 
 
 "Good-night! Wonderful creatures, those fair faces. Have 
 you noticed the change in Krysia since you have paid a little 
 attention to Basia." 
 
 "No . . . I have not!" said the little knight. 
 
 "As if she had had a fall." 
 
 "Good-night!" repeated the little knight and hastily en- 
 tered his room. 
 
 Zagloba had somewhat overreached himself in his confidence 
 in Pan Michael's fickleness and had generally been maladroit 
 in commenting on the alteration in Krysia, for the little 
 knight suddenly felt as though somebody had seized him by 
 the throat. 
 
 "And this is the way I requite her kindness for comforting 
 me like a sister in my sorrow," he said to himself. "Well! 
 what wrong have I done her?" he exclaimed after a moment's 
 reflection, "What have I done? I have neglected her for 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 77 
 
 three days, which was rude, to say the least. I have slighted 
 the sweet girl, the darling. Because she tried to heal my 
 wounds I have repaid her with ingratitude . . . If I only 
 knew," he continued, "how to keep this dangerous friendship 
 within bounds and manage to avoid giving offence at the 
 same time! but evidently my wits are too dull for such 
 strategy." 
 
 Pan Michael was angry with himself and at the same time 
 he was seized with a great pity, unconsciously he began to 
 regard Krysia in the light of a beloved and injured being. 
 His anger with himself increased every moment. 
 
 "I am a barbarian, a regular barbarian!" he exclaimed. 
 
 And Krysia entirely supplanted Basia in his heart. "Let 
 him who will take that kid, that windmill, thaf rattletrap!" he 
 exclaimed, "Pan Adam or the Devil, it's all the same to me!" 
 
 His anger also rose against Basia, who owed her nature to 
 God; but he never reflected that he might be wronging her 
 by his anger more than Krysia by his studied indifference. 
 
 With a woman's instinct Krysia at once detected a change 
 in Pan Michael. It was sad and bitter for her when the little 
 knight seemed to avoid her, but she saw at once that some- 
 thing must be settled between them and that their friendship 
 could not continue on its present basis, but must become 
 something far deeper or come entirely to an end. 
 
 She was therefore assailed by an alarm that increased at 
 the thought of Pan Michael's approaching departure. So far 
 she was not in love with him. She had no knowledge of love 
 as yet, but her heart and blood were rife for it. 
 
 Perhaps also her head was slightly turned. The little 
 knight was encircled with the glory of the first soldier 
 of the Commonwealth. Every knight uttered his name 
 with respect. His sister praised him to the skies; the 
 charm of misfortune was about him; and moreover the 
 maiden, dwelling under the same roof with him, had become 
 accustomed to his graces. 
 
 It was the nature of Krysia to crave for loVe, and so, when 
 for the last few days Pan Michael had treated her with indif- 
 ference, her self-love was deeply wounded; but as she had a 
 good heart she determined not to make any sign of anger or 
 annoyance, but to win him with kindness. 
 
 This was the more easy for her, as the next day Pan 
 Michael's manner was penitent and not only did he not at- 
 tempt to avoid her glance, but gazed into her eyes as though 
 
78 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 desirous of saying, "Yesterday I sinned against you; to-day I 
 beg your forgiveness." His eyes were so eloquent that under 
 their influence her face flushed and she became more disturbed 
 with a presentiment 'that something of importance was about 
 to occur. In fact it did occur. In the afternoon Pani Mako- 
 vyetska went with Basia to visit a relative of the latter, the 
 wife of the vice-chamberlain of Lemburg who was staying in 
 Warsaw; Krysia feigned a headache because she was curious 
 to know what would happen between herself and Pan Michael 
 if left alone. 
 
 It is true that Zagloba did not go to visit the vice-chamber- 
 lain's wife, but he was in the habit of sleeping for a couple of 
 hours after dinner, as he 'said that it prevented corpulency 
 and cleared his brain for the evening; so, after chatting for a 
 time he got up to retire. Krysia's heart immediately began 
 to beat with disquiet, but what was her surprise and disap- 
 pointment to see Pan Michael get up and go out with Zagloba. 
 
 "He will soon return," thought Krysia. And taking a 
 small drum, she commenced to embroider on it the crown of 
 a gold cap for Pan Michael to take away with him. Every 
 two or three moments, however, she raised her eyes to the 
 Dantzig clock in the corner, which was ticking rhythmically. 
 
 But an hour passed, and another, and still Pan Michael had 
 not returned. Krysia laid the drum on her lap and mur- 
 mured, crossing her hands upon" it, "Before he makes up his 
 mind they may return and we shall not have had any conver- 
 sation, or Pan Zagloba may wake." 
 
 At that moment she felt that they had really something of 
 importance to discuss that might be deferred through Pan 
 Michael's fault. 
 
 However at last she heard his step in the next room. "He 
 is wandering about," she said, and again busied herself with 
 her embroidery. 
 
 Pan Michael in fact was wandering about: he was walking 
 up and down and did not dare to go in. Meanwhile the sun 
 was reddening and nearing its setting. 
 
 "Pan Michael!" Krysia suddenly cried. 
 
 He came in and found her busy with her needle. "Did 
 you call?" 
 
 "I wanted to know if some stranger was walking about the 
 house. I have been here alone for two hours." 
 
 The little knight drew up a chair and sat on the edge. 
 
 Some time passed in silence; he moved his feet noisily 
 
PAN MICHAEL. jg 
 
 under the table and his lips worked nervously. Krysia sus- 
 pended her work and raised her eyes to his face; their glances 
 met and both dropped their eyes quickly. 
 
 When the little knight again looked up the last rays of the 
 sun were falling on Krysia's face and glorifying it; her hair 
 glittered like gold in the glow. 
 
 "You are going in a couple of days?" she asked in scarcely 
 audible tones. 
 
 "It must be." 
 
 There was another moment's silence and then Krysia said: 
 "I have thought for the last day or two that you were angry 
 with me." 
 
 "On my life," cries Pan Michael, "I should not merit your 
 regard if I had been, but it was not so." 
 
 "What was the matter?" asked Krysia raising her eyes to 
 his. 
 
 "I want to speak frankly, for I think that frankness is 
 always preferable to dissimulation; but I can never tell you 
 how much comfort you have poured into my heart and how 
 grateful I am." 
 
 "God grant that it may always be so!" said Krysia, folding 
 her hands over the drum. 
 
 To this Pan Michael answered very sadly: 
 
 "God grant it! God grant it! . . . But Pan Zagloba said to 
 me I am confessing to you as to a priest Pan Zagloba said 
 that friendship with fair faces is a dangerous thing for it may 
 cover a warmer sentiment, as ashes conceal fire. I thought 
 that perhaps Pan Zagloba might be right. Forgive a simple 
 soldier, another would have solved the question more ably, 
 but my heart bleeds for having grieved you these last few 
 days and life is bitter to me." 
 
 As he said this Pan Michael's moustache began to work like 
 a beetle's feelers. Krysia bowed her head and presently two 
 tears rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 "If it will make it easier for you I will hide my sisterly 
 affection." 
 
 Two more tears appeared upon her cheeks and then two 
 more. 
 
 At the sight of them Pan Michael's heart was completely 
 rent; he sprang to Krysia's side and seized her hands. The 
 drum rolled from her lap to the middle of the room, but the 
 knight paid no attention to it; he only pressed those warm, 
 soft, velvety hands to his lips, crving: 
 
g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Do not weep. For God's sake, do not weep!" 
 
 Pan Michael did not leave off kissing her hands even when 
 Krysia covered her face with them, as people generally do 
 when in trouble, but kissed them the more ardently till his 
 senses became intoxicated with the warmth of her hair and 
 brow as with wine and he lost control of himself. 
 
 Then suddenly, without knowing how it happened, his lips 
 were on her brow, kissing it more eagerly still, and then de- 
 scended to her weeping eyes and the whole world seemed to be 
 going round. The next moment he felt the tender down on 
 her lip and then their mouths pressed strongly together in a 
 long kiss. The silence of the room was only broken by the 
 loud ticking of the clock. 
 
 Basia's step was suddenly heard in the hall with her child- 
 like voice crying: 
 
 "Frost! frost! frost !" 
 
 The little knight sprang away from Krysia like a scared 
 panther from his prey and at the same instant Basia rushed 
 in like a whirlwind, still repeating her cry of "Frost! frost! 
 frost!" 
 
 Suddenly she stumbled against the drum lying in the mid- 
 dle of the floor. She then stopped and looked from the drum 
 at Krysia and the little knight in turn, saying: 
 
 "What is this? You both look as if pierced with a dart?" 
 
 "Where is Auntie? 7 ' Krysia asked striving to speak in 
 quiet, natural tones from her heaving breast. 
 
 "Auntie is getting out of the sleigh by degrees," answered 
 Basia in an equally altered tone. 
 
 Her nostrils dilated several times. Once again she stared 
 at Krysia and Pan Michael, who by this time had picked up 
 the drum, and then she suddenly left the salon. 
 
 At that moment Pani Makovyetska waddled in; Pan Zag- 
 loba came down and they began talking about the wife of the 
 vice-chamberlain of Lemburg. 
 
 "I did not know that she was Pan Adam's godmother," 
 said Pani Makovyetska; "he must have confided in her, for 
 she tormented Basia with him dreadfully." 
 
 "But what did Basia say?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "Basia said to the vice-chamberlain's wife: 'A halter for a 
 dog! He has no moustache and I have no sense and no one 
 can tell which will first get what is wanting/ "' 
 
 "I knew that her tongue would not fail her, but who knows 
 what she really thinks? Oh, female cunning!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 8 1 
 
 "Baeia always speaks her heart. Besides I have already 
 told you that she has not met with her fate yet. Krysia has 
 to some extent." 
 
 "Auntie!" Krysia suddenly cried. 
 
 Further conversation was here interrupted hy the servant 
 who announced that supper was on the tahle. They all pro- 
 ceeded to the dining-room, but Basia was not there. 
 
 "Where is the young lady?" Pani Makovyetska asked the 
 servant. 
 
 "The young lady is in the stable. I told her that supper 
 was ready; she said 'All right!' and went to the stable." 
 
 "Has anything disagreeable happened to her? She was so 
 gay!" said Pani Makovyetska, turning to Zagloba. 
 
 The little knight, whose conscience was uneasy, said: 
 
 "I will go and fetch her!" 
 
 And he hastened out. 
 
 He found her just inside the stable door, sitting on a bundle 
 of hay. She was so deep in thought that she did not notice 
 him as he entered. 
 
 "Panna Barbara!" said the little knight, bending over her. 
 
 She started as if suddenly roused from sleep and lifted her 
 eyes in which, to his astonishment, Pan Michael saw two tear 
 drops as big as pearls. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! what is the matter? You are weep- 
 ing." 
 
 "I haven't the least idea of doing so," cried Basia springing 
 to her feet, "I haven't the least idea of it! It's from the 
 frost." 
 
 She laughed gaily, but it sounded like forced merriment. 
 Then, to distract attention from herself, she pointed to the 
 stall containing the horse given to Pan Michael by the Het- 
 man and cried with animation: 
 
 "You say it is impossible to ride that horse? We will see 
 about that!" 
 
 And before Pan Michael could stop her she had darted into 
 the stall The vicious animal began to plunge and rear and 
 set its ears back. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, he will kill you!" cried Pan Michael 
 springing after her. 
 
 But Basia had already begun to stroke the horse on the 
 shoulder, saying: "Let him kill ... let him kill ... let 
 him kill ..." 
 
 But the horse turned his steaming nostrils towards her and 
 whinnied as if he delighted ifl Her fondling. 
 
 T "~" 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 All the nights that Pan Michael had ever spent were as 
 nothing compared with the one that followed that jar with. 
 Krysia. For behold, he had betrayed the memory of hii 
 dead betrothed and he loved that memory. He had deceived 
 the confidence of the living, abused friendship, contracted 
 certain obligations, and behaved like a man without a con- 
 science. An ordinary soldier would have thought nothing 
 of a kiss like that, or rather, would have twisted his mous- 
 tache at the remembrance, but Pan Michael, particularly 
 since Anusia's death was as scrupulous as are all men with 
 sorrowful hearts and lacerated souls. What was he to do 
 then? How should he act? 
 
 There were only a few days left now before his departure 
 and that would put an end to everything. But was it right 
 to go away without saying a word to Krysia and leave her 
 as he would the first chambermaid from whom he might 
 steal a kiss? Pan Michael's noble heart trembled at the 
 thought. Even now in his mental struggle the thought of 
 Krysia filled him with delight and the memory of that kiss 
 thrilled him with ecstasy. He was enraged with himself, but 
 yet he could not help that delicious feeling. And he blamed 
 himself exclusively. 
 
 "I brought Krysia to that/' he said b'itterly; "I brought 
 her to it and so it would not be right of me to depart with- 
 out saying a word. And what then? Shall I propose and 
 go away engaged to her?" 
 
 Here he saw the form of Anusia standing before him in 
 white robes and white as wax, exactly as she had been laid 
 in her coffin. 
 
 The form said: "It is at least my due that you mourn 
 and bewail me. At first you wanted to become a monk, to 
 sorrow for me your whole life long, but now you are taking 
 another before my poor soul had time to reach the gates of 
 Heaven on its flight. Ah! wait, first let me reach Heaven; 
 let me cease locking backwards to the earth. . , " 
 
 (82) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 83 
 
 And the knight felt that he was forsworn before that ra- 
 diant spirit whose memory he -sought to honor and hold 
 sacred. He was overwhelmed with grief and boundless shame 
 and self-contempt and he longed for death. 
 
 "Anusia," he cried as he knelt, "I shall never cease mourn- 
 ing for thee till death; but what must I do now?' 
 
 The white form made no reply as it faded away like a 
 white mist; and in its place his imagination conjured up 
 Krysia's bright eyes and downy lip and with them returned 
 the temptations which the poor soldier wanted to shake off 
 like the darts of a Tartar. 
 
 Thus his heart was drawn in opposite directions by grief, 
 anguish, and uncertainty. Sometimes he was prompted to 
 go and tell Zagloba everything and take council with that 
 man whose wis-dom could smooth all difficulties. Moreover 
 he had foreseen it all, and predicted the consequences of 
 forming a "friendship" with a fair face. 
 
 But that very consideration hindered him. He remem- 
 bered how sternly he had said to Pan Zagloba "I will not 
 have Panna Krysia offended!" And now who had offended 
 her? Who was the one to think "Is it not best to leave her 
 like a chambermaid and go away?" 
 
 "Were it not for that dear one above I should not hesitate 
 for a moment," he thought, "I should not be at all troubled: 
 on the contrary my heart would rejoice that I had tasted such 
 delight." 
 
 Presently he murmured: 
 
 "I would accept it a hundred times over." 
 
 Finding however that temptations were thronging in on 
 him he sternly shook them off and began to reason as fol- 
 lows: "That's the end of it. Since I have behaved like a 
 man who does not want friendship but the pleasure of Cupid, 
 I must continue along that road and tell Krysia to-morrow 
 that I wish to marry her." 
 
 Here 'he ceased for a few moments, and then proceeded 
 to argue thus: "By that declaration, what happened to-day 
 will be entirely justified, and to-morrow I can allow my- 
 self" But here he suddenly struck his mouth with his hand. 
 
 "Whew!" he cried, "It seems that a whole chambul of 
 devils are sitting at my back!" 
 
 But still he did not resign his project of declaring him- 
 self, but merely thought "If I sin against my dead love I 
 can make reparation with masses and prayers; and this will 
 
84 P&X MICHAEL. 
 
 also prove that she is always in my memory and that my 
 devotion will never end. 11' people marvel and laugh at me 
 because two weeks ago in my griel 1 wanted to take the 
 cowl and now I have declared my love for another, the 
 shame will be mine alone. If I do not declare myself the 
 innocent Krysia will be made to share my shame and guilt." 
 
 "I will propose to her to-morrow; it must be so!" he said 
 at last. 
 
 His mind then became much more tranquil and after a 
 Pater and an earnest prayer for Anusia he fell asleep. 
 
 When he awoke in the morning he again said to himself: 
 
 "1 will propose to-day." 
 
 But it was not such a simple matter, for Pan Michael 
 did not want the others to know, but to have a talk with 
 Krysia first and then act accordingly. 
 
 In the meantime Pan Adam arrived early and monopolized 
 the whole house. 
 
 Krysia moved about as if she had been poisoned; the whole 
 morning she looked pale and troubled, from time to time 
 she would lower her eyes, and her face and neck would 
 crimson, and then again her lips would quiver as if she 
 were ready to burst into tears and then she would have a 
 dreamy expression, or look as if she were going to faint. 
 
 The knight found it difficult to approach her, and par- 
 ticularly to stay long by her side. It is true that he might 
 have taken her out for a walk, as it was beautiful weather, 
 and some days earlier he would not have hesitated to do 
 so, but now he did not dare, for he imagined that everybody 
 would immediately suspect his intention, they would all 
 think that he was about to propose. 
 
 Pan Adam came to the rescue. He took Panni Makovy- 
 etska aside and had a long talk with her on some subject and 
 then both returned to the room where the little knight was 
 sitting with Pan Zagloba and the two girls and she said: 
 
 "You young people might go for a drive two and two in 
 sleighs, for the snow is crisp and bright." 
 
 At this Pan Michael quickly bent down his 'head to Kry- 
 sia's ear and said: "I beg you to sit with me: I have many 
 things to say to you." 
 
 "Very well," answered Krysia. 
 
 The two men hastened to the stables, followed by Bashka, 
 and in the space of a couple of Paters the sleighs were driven 
 up to the door. Pan Michael and Krysia took their seats 
 
PAN MICHAEL, $ 5 
 
 in one and Pan Adam and the little haiduk in the other, and 
 they started without other drivers. 
 
 When they were out of sight Pani Makovyetska turned 
 to Zagloba and said, "Pan Adam has proposed for Bashka." 
 
 "What is that?' 7 cried Zagloba in alarm. 
 
 "His godmother, the wife of the vice-chamberlain of Lem- 
 burg, is coming here to-morrow to have a talk with me; Pan 
 Adam has asked my permission to have a preliminary under- 
 standing with Bashka, for he quite understands that unleSvS 
 Bashka is favorable to his suit her visit will be labor in 
 vain." 
 
 "That was why you sent them sleighing?" 
 
 "Precisely. My husband is very conscientious. More than 
 once he has said to me, 'I will be the guardian of their prop- 
 erty, but let them choose their own husbands, if they choose 
 worthy men I will make no opposition even in the face of 
 unequal fortune. Moreover they are of age and capable of 
 forming their own opinions/ r ' 
 
 "But what answer .are you thinking of giving to Pan 
 Adam's godmother?' 3 
 
 "My husband will be here in May. I will turn the matter 
 over to him; but this is what I think, it will be as Bashka 
 wishes." 
 
 "Pan Adam is only a boy!" 
 
 "But Michael himself says that he is a famous soldier 
 already celebrated for his valorous deeds. He possesses a 
 fair fortune and his godmother has enumerated to me all 
 his connections. You see it is this way: his great-grand- 
 father was the son of Princess Senyut; he was first married 
 to. ... 
 
 "What do I care about his relations!" cried Zagloba giving 
 vent to his ill-humor; "he is neither kith nor kin to me and 
 I tell you that I have intended the little haiduk for Michael; 
 for if among all the maidens who walk the world on two 
 feet there is a better or more honest one than she, I will 
 henceforth go on all fours like a bear." 
 
 "Michael is not thinking of anything of the kind as yet; 
 and even if he were, he is more attracted by Krysia. Well, 
 God, whose decrees are inscrutable, will decide that." 
 
 "But if that smooth-faced boy is sent away with the water- 
 melon, I shall be intoxicated with delight," added Zagloba. 
 
 In the meantime the fate of both knights hung in the 
 balance. For some time Pan Michael could not find a word 
 to say; at length he turned to Krysia and said: 
 
86 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Don't think me a light-minded man, 01 anything iri. the 
 nature of a fop, for that would not agree with, my years." 
 
 Krysia made no reply. 
 
 "Forgive my conduct of yesterday: my foealt was so full 
 of grateful tenderness that I was quite unablu io control my 
 feelings. My sweet lady, my adored Krysia, romember what 
 I am; I am a simple soldier whose whole life has been spent 
 in war. Another man would have begun with a ceremonious 
 speech and then passed on to intimate confidences; but I 
 commenced with familiarity. Kemember also that if a fully 
 trained horse will occasionally take the bit in his teeth and 
 run away with a man, 'how much more will love, whose im- 
 petuosity is far greater! Love carried me away simply be- 
 cause you are so dear to me. My darling Krysia, you. are 
 worthy of Castellans and Senators; but if you do not despise 
 a soldier, who, though of humble rant, has served his coun- 
 try not ingloriously, I fall at your feet and kiss them, and 
 ask, Will you accept me? Can you think of me without 
 disdain?" 
 
 "Pan Michael! . . . " answered Krysia, 'and her hand 
 withdrew from her muff and slid into the knight's. 
 
 "Do you agree?" asked Pan Michael. 
 
 "Yes!" Krysia answered; "and I know that I could not 
 find a more honorable man in all Poland." 
 
 "God bless you! God bless you, Krysia, darling!" cried the 
 knight smothering her hand with kisses. "No greater hap- 
 piness could befall me. Only say that you are not offended 
 at yesterday's familiarity so that my mind may be at rest." 
 
 "I am not offended/' she said. 
 
 "Oh that I could kiss your feet in this sleigh!" cried Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 They then kept silence for some moments; the runners 
 hummed over the snow and lumps of it flew from the feet 
 of the horses. At length Pan Michael said, "I wonder that 
 you love me." 
 
 "It is more wonderful how you came to love me so 
 quickly," Krysia replied. 
 
 At that Pan Michael's face became very grave and he said : 
 "It may appear strange to you, Krysia, that I should fall 
 in love with one before getting over my grief for another, 
 I acknowledge to you, as my father confessor, that I have 
 been wild in my day; but all that has changed now. I have 
 not forgotten that dear one and I never shall; I love her 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 87 
 
 still, and if you knew how my heart grieves within me for 
 her you would weep for me also. . . . 
 
 Here the littlle knight was so affected that his voice failed 
 him and perhaps that was why he did not notice that Krysia 
 did not seem to be very deely impressed with his words. 
 Silence again fell and was this time broken by the lady. 
 "I will endeavor to comfort you to the utmost of my 
 power." 
 
 "I came to love you so soon," said the little knight, ''be- 
 cause you began to heal my wounds from the very first day. 
 What was I to you? Nothing at all! But you began imme- 
 diately because your heart had compassion on an unfortunate 
 man. Ah, I am very grateful to you, very. Those who do 
 not know this perhaps will reproach me for wanting to be- 
 come a monk in November and then preparing fpr marriage 
 in December. Pan Zagloba will be the first to make sport 
 of me, as he is glad of any opportunity for that, and particu- 
 larly as the blame is mine and not yours." 
 
 Krysia gazed thoughtfully at the sky and at last said: 
 "Is it absolutely necessary to tell people of our betrothal?" 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "It seems that you are going away in a day or two!" 
 "However much against my will, I must go." 
 "I am in mourning for my father. Why should we expose 
 ourselves to inquiring eyes? Let us keep it to ourselves 
 and no one need know of it till Pan Michael returns from 
 Eussia. Do you agree?" 
 
 "Then I must not say anything to my sister?" 
 "I will tell her myself after Pan Michael has departed. 
 "And Pan Zagloba?" 
 
 "Pan Zagloba would whet his wit upon me. Better say 
 nothing! Bashka would also tease me, and lately she is 
 so capricious and her moods have never before been so 
 changeable. Better be silent!" 
 
 Here Krysia raised her dark-blue eyes to the sky: 
 "God above is our witness; let others remain in ignorance." 
 "I see that your wisdom is equal to your beauty. I agree. 
 Then God is our witness: so be it! Now lean against me; 
 for modesty permits it now that our compact is made. Fear 
 not! Even if I wanted to repeat yesterday's behavior I could 
 not as I have to pay attention to the horse." 
 
 Krysia did as the knight desired and he continued, "When 
 we are alone call me by my name." 
 
88 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "It sounds so strange/' she said, smiling, "I shall never 
 have the courage." 
 
 "But I have dared to use yours." 
 
 "Because Pan Michael is a knight. Pan Michael is bold. 
 Pan Michael is a soldier!" 
 
 "Krysia, thou art my beloved!" 
 
 "Mich." 
 
 But she had not the courage to finish, and buried her face 
 in her muff. 
 
 Presently they returned home; they did not talk much on 
 the way, but at the gate the little knight again asked: 
 
 "But after yesterday's . . . you know . . . were 
 you very sad?" 
 
 "Oh, I was ashamed and miserable, but ... I had such 
 a wonderful feeling," she added in lower tones. 
 
 They assumed an air of indifference so that nobody should 
 guess what had passed between them. 
 
 But this precaution was unnecessary because no one paid 
 any attention to them. 
 
 It is true that Zagloba and Michael's sister ran out to re- 
 ceive them, but they had eyes only for Bashka and Pan 
 Adam. 
 
 Bashka was crimson, but it was impossible to decide 
 whether from cold or emotion, and Pan Adam looked as if 
 poisoned. Moreover he took his leave immediately after- 
 wards. In vain did the lady of the house endeavor to de- 
 tain him; in vain also did Pan Michael, who was in high 
 spirits, try to induce him to stay to supper: he pleaded duty 
 as an excuse and departed. Pan Michael's sister immediately 
 kissed Basia on the brow without uttering a word; and the 
 maiden fled to her own room and did not come down to 
 supper. 
 
 The following day Zagloba advanced to the attack and 
 I asked: 
 
 ' "Well, little haiduk, it seerns that Pan Adam was struck 
 with a thunderbolt?" 
 
 "Well!" she nodded with twinkling eyes. 
 
 "Tell me what you said to him." 
 
 "The question was direct, for he is a bold man, and so 
 was the answer, for I also am resolute. No!" 
 
 "You behaved beautifully! Let me embrace you! What 
 did he say? Did he accept his defeat easily?" 
 
 "He wanted to know whether time would noj: do some- 
 thing for him, but no, no! nothing would be gained by it!" 
 
PAX MICHAEL. g 9 
 
 Here Bashk&'s nostrils dilated and she began to shake her 
 locks sadly as if meditating. 
 
 "Give me your reasons," said Zagloba. 
 
 ''lie also wanted to know them, but in vain; I would not 
 tell them to him nor to any man." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Zagloba gazing keenly into her eyes, "you 
 have some concealed love in your heart. Eh?" 
 
 "A fig! No love!" she cried. Springing to her feet as if 
 in an attempt to conceal her confusion she began to repeat 
 rapidly: 
 
 "I don't want Pan Adam! I don't want Pan Adam! I don't 
 want anybody? Why do you all torment me?" 
 
 And suddenly she burst out weeping. 
 
 Zagloba did his best to comfort her, but she was touchy 
 and low-spirited all day. "Michael!" said he at dinner, "you 
 are going away and Ketling will soon arrive; he is a perfect 
 Adonis. I don't know how these young ladies will be able to 
 resist him, and I expect that when you return you will find 
 them both hopelessly in love." 
 
 "All the better for us!" cried Pan Michael, "we'll throw 
 Panna Bashka in his way." 
 
 Bashka looked at him like a wild-cat and said: "Why are 
 you less solicitous about Krysia?" 
 
 The little knight was greatly confused at her question and 
 said: "You don't know Ketling's power, but you will find it 
 out." 
 
 "But why not Krysia? Besides I am not the one to sing:" 
 
 " How shall a fair maid, 
 Love's raiders evade? 
 Whom turn to for aid ?" 
 
 It was now Krysia's turn to be confused, but the little 
 w;isp proceeded: "In an extremity I can ask Pan Adam to 
 lend me his shield; but when you are gone I don't know how 
 Krysia will dofond herself in the hour of danger." 
 
 Pnn Miphael had now recovered himself and replied some- 
 what harshly: "Perhaps she will succeed better than you." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "She is not such a madcap and is more sedate and dio-- 
 nified." 
 
 Pan Zagloba and the little knight's sister thought that 
 this would rouse the sharp little haiduk to battle at once; 
 but to their great surprise she bowed her head towards her 
 plate and after a pause, snid in low tone?: "If I have 
 offended you I beg your pardon ? and Krysia's," 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 As Pan Michael had permission to start whenever he liked, 
 he went to Chenstohovo, to Anusia's grave. After shedding 
 there his last tears he continued his journey, and the more 
 he thought ahout it the more convinced he was that his secret 
 engagement to Krysia was somewhat precipitate. He felt that 
 in grief and tears there is something sacred that should be 
 left undisturbed and allowed to rise heavenwards like a vapor 
 and fade into limitless space. It is true that other men had 
 married within a month or two of losing their wives; but they 
 had not commenced with the Camedolian monastery, nor had 
 calamity met them on the threshold of bliss after many years 
 of waiting. But even though men of common clay pay no re- 
 gard to the sacredness of sorrow, is that any reason for follow- 
 ing their example? 
 
 Pan Michael then took his way to Russia and self-reproach 
 accompanied him. But he was just enough to shoulder all 
 the blame and not to visit any of it upon Krysia; and to his 
 other anxieties was added the question whether Krysia would 
 not in the depths of her soul think ill of him on account of 
 his precipitation- 
 
 "Surely she would not act so were she in my place," he 
 said to himself, "being of an exalted nature herself, she doubt- 
 less expects the same from others." 
 
 The little knight was afraid lest he should look small in 
 her eyes. 
 
 But his fears were groundless. Krysia had no real sym- 
 pathy with Pan Michael's mourning, and when he dwelt on it 
 too much, instead of feeling with him it only roused her 
 jealousy. "Was she, the living woman, not of equal import- 
 ance with the dead one? Or was she of i\o more value than to 
 have the dead Anusia as a rival ? If Zagloba had known their 
 secret he would have consoled Pan Michael by saying that 
 women are not too charitable to one another." 
 
 After Pan Michael had gone Panna Krysia was somewhat 
 dismayed on thinking over what had happened and especially 
 
 (90) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. g l 
 
 that she was bolird in. AY ben she en me from tlie Ukraine to 
 Warsaw, where she had never been before, she had imagined 
 that things would be very different. The retinues of bishops 
 and other dignitaries would be gathered at the Diet of Con- 
 vocation; and a brilliant body of nobles would be assembled 
 from every corner of the Commonwealth. What revels and re- 
 views there would be! what life! and amid the whirl, in the 
 noble throng, would appear some unknown lover, some knight 
 such as exists only in maidens' dreams. This knight would 
 burn with love and haunt her window with a cithera; he would . 
 organize gay cavalcades, love, and sigh interminably, wear 
 his lady's colors on his armor, and suffer and overcome great 
 obstacles before finally falling at her feet and gaining re- 
 sponsive love. 
 
 But nothing of all this had happened. The rainbow-hued 
 haze of fancy faded away; a knight appeared, it is true, a 
 knight out of the common run and celebrated as the first sol- 
 dier in the Commonwealth, a famous warrior, but very little, 
 in fact not at all resembling the knight of her dreams. 
 Neither were there any cavalcades, nor serenades, nor jousts, 
 nor parades, nor colors worn on the armor, nor stirring life, 
 nor revels, nor anything of all that allures like a May dream, 
 or a marvellous tale in the twilight that intoxicates the senses 
 like the perfume of flowers, and attracts as a bait does a bird, 
 making the face flush, the heart beat faster, and the body 
 tremble. There was nothing but a modest mansion outside 
 the city; in it Pan Michael; then came growing intimacy, and 
 the last vestiges of the dream vanished like the moon when 
 clouds obscure it. If only Pan Michael had appeared last in- 
 stead of first he would have been the one looked for. Fre- 
 quently when she dwe/lt on the thought of his fame, his 
 worthiness-, and his valor, which made him the glory of the 
 Commonwealth and the terror of its foes, Krysia felt that 
 after all she did love him dearly; only it seemed to her that 
 she had missed something, that a certain injustice had been 
 done to her and through his instrumentality, or rather 
 through his precipitancy. . . . 
 
 This precipitancy had lodged in the heart of each like a 
 grain of sand; and as greater and greater distance was placed 
 between them this grain began to irritate. 
 
 It often happens that people's feelings are wounded with a 
 matter as insignificant as a tiny thorn, which hurt, with the 
 lapse of time, is either healed or aggravated, bringing pain 
 
9 2 PAN U\ 
 
 and bitterness to the deepest love. But in this instance it 
 was still a long way to pain and bitterness. To Pan Michael 
 the thought of Krysia brought pleasure and solace, and the 
 memory of her followed him as closely as his shadow, lie also 
 felt that the farther he went the dearer she would grow to his 
 heart and the more he would sigh and long for her presence.-. 
 For her the time passed more heavily; for after the little 
 knight's departure, there were no visitors at Ketling's, and 
 day succeeded day in dullness and monotony. 
 
 Pani Stolnikova counted the days till the election, awaiting 
 her husband's arrival; she talked only of him; Basia was 
 scheming. Zagloba reproached her, saying that she had first 
 rejected Pan Adam and was now wishing him back. She 
 would in fact have been glad to see even him; but he told 
 himself "There is nothing there for me," . . and he soon 
 followed Pan Michael. Pan Zagloba also was making prepa- 
 rations to return to Pan Yan's, saying that he was yearning 
 to see his boys again. Still, being lazy, he deferred his de- 
 parture from day to day, explaining to Bashka that she was 
 the cause of his lingering, that he was in love with her and in- 
 tended to seek her hand. 
 
 Meanwhile he kept Krysia. company when Basia and Pan 
 Michael's sister went to visit the wife of the vice-chamberlain 
 of Lemburg. Krysia never accompanied them on those visits, 
 for in spite of that lady's estimable qualities she could not 
 endure Krysia. Frequently also Zagloba himself went to War- 
 saw, passed his time in pleasant company, and more than 
 once returned intoxicated on the following day; at such times 
 Krysia was entirely alone and spent the lagging minutes in 
 thoughts partly of Pan Michael, and partly of what might 
 have happened if the latch had not fallen once for all, and 
 frequently speculating as to what that unknown rival of Pan 
 Michael's, the fairy Prince, would have been like. 
 
 One day Krysia was sitting by the window and thought- 
 fully gazing at the door of the room, which was illumined by 
 a bright ray of the setting sun, when suddenly a sleigh-bell 
 was heard outside. Krysia thought that Pani Makovyetska 
 and Basia must have returned and did not interrupt her 
 musings, nor even turn her eyes from the door. Tn a moment 
 it opened, and beyond its frame in the shadow her eyes fell 
 upon a stranger. 
 
 For the first few moments it seemed to Krysia that she was 
 gazing at a picture, or that she had fallen asleep and was 
 dreaming, so wonderful was the vision before her. . . . 
 
PAK MIC0AEL 93 
 
 The stranger was youthful, dressed in some black foreign 
 costume with a white lace collar falling over his shoulders. 
 Once in her childhood Krysia had seen Fan Artsishevski, 
 general of the royal artillery, dressed in a similar costume; 
 he had remained in her memory on account of the costume 
 as well as his unusual beauty. Now the youth before her was 
 similarly costumed; but in beauty he far surpassed Pan Art- 
 sishevski and every other man who walked the earth. II 
 hair, cut straight across his forehead, fell in wonderful shi 
 ning curls on each side of his face. His brows were dark ami 
 strongly marked on a forehead as white as marble; he had 
 mild and melancholy eyes; a tawny moustache and a pointed 
 beard of the same hue. . It was a matchless head, in which 
 nobility and manliness were united, the head of an angel and 
 a knight at the same time. Krysia suddenly held her breath 
 as she looked, for she could scarcely believe her own eyes, nor 
 could she make up her mind whether she was gazing on an il- 
 lusion or a real man. For a moment he stood motionless in 
 astonishment, or politely pretending to be astonished at the 
 sight of Krysia's loveliness; at length he entered the door and 
 bewail to sweep the floor with the plumes of his hat. Krysia 
 arose with trembling limbs, and flushing and paling alter- 
 nately, she closed her eyes. 
 
 Meanwhile his soft and velvety tones were heard: 
 
 "I am Ketling of Elgin, the friend and companion-in-arms 
 of Pan Volodiyovski. The servant has already informed me 
 that I have the unspeakable happiness and honor to receive 
 under my roof as guests the sister and relatives of my Pallas; 
 but, noble lady, pardon my confusion, for he told me nothing 
 of what my eyes behold and they cannot endure the bright- 
 ness of your presence." 
 
 Such was the compliment with which the knightly Ketling 
 greeted Krysia; but she did not repay him in kind, for she 
 could not find a word to say. She only thought when he had 
 ended that he was making another bow because through the 
 silence she heard his plumes again sweeping the floor. She 
 also realized that it was exceedingly necessary for her to make 
 some reply and give back compliment for compliment or she 
 might be put down for a rustic; but her breath failed her, her 
 temples throbbed, and her bosom rose and fell as though she 
 were in great distress. She opened her eyes and saw him 
 standing before her with head slightly bowed and his won- 
 derful face full of admiration and respect. With trembling 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 hands Krysia took hold of her robe to make a courtesy before 
 the cavalier, when at that moment luckily, shouts of "Ketling! 
 Ketling!" were heard in the hall and the panting Zagloba 
 rushed into the room with outstretched arms. 
 
 The two then embraced and meanwhile the young lady 
 tried to recover her self-possession and take a glance or two 
 at the knight. He embraced Zagloba warmly, but with that 
 rare grace in every movement which he had either inherited 
 from his ancestors, or acquired in the brilliant courts of 
 kings and rulers. 
 
 "How are you?" cried Zagloba. "I am as delighted to see 
 you in your house as in my own. Let me have a look at you! 
 Why, how thin you have grown! Is it from some love-affair? 
 By God! you have grown thin. Do you know Michael has 
 joined his squadron? Oh, you have done well to come! 
 Michael has no longer any thought of a cloister. His sister 
 is staying here with two young ladies, maidens like peaches! 
 One is Panna Yezyorkovska and the other Panna Droho- 
 yovska. Oh, for Heaven's sake, Panna Krysia is here! I beg 
 pardon, but may the man lose his eyes who would deny that 
 either of you is beautiful; this cavalier has already seen it for 
 himself in your case." 
 
 Ketling bowed a third time and said smiling: 
 
 "I left the house a barracks and I find it an Olympus, for 
 I meet a goddess on the threshold." 
 
 "Ketling! how are you?" again cried Zagloba, for whom one 
 greeting did not suffice, and he again embraced him. 
 
 "No matter, you haven't seen the little haiduk yet. One is 
 a beauty, but the other is indeed honey! How are you Ket- 
 ling? God give you good health! I must talk to you. It is 
 you! That delights this old fellow. You are glad of your 
 guests. . . Pani Makovyetska came here because it was so 
 hard to find lodgings while the diet was being held; but now 
 it is easier and of course she will go, for it is not well for 
 maidens to lodge under a bachelor's roof lest people look 
 askance and begin to chatter." . . . 
 
 "For God's sake! I will never allow that! To Pan Michael, 
 I am a brother rather than a friend; and I may surely receive 
 Pani Makovyetska as a sister under my roof. To you, young 
 lady, I shall turn for assistance, and if necessary will implore 
 it here on my knees." 
 
 Thereupon Ketling fell upon his knees before Krysia and, 
 seizing her hand, pressed it to his lips and gazed into her eyes 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 95 
 
 with a beseeching, joyous, and at the same time, mournful 
 expression. She began to blush again, especially as Zagloba 
 immediately cried: 
 
 "He has hardly arrived before he is on his knees to her. 
 By God! I'll tell Pani Makovyetska that I found you so. Sly 
 Ketling! .... Krysia, note court customs!" 
 
 "I am ignorant of court customs," the lady murmured in 
 confusion. 
 
 "May I count on your aid ?" asked Ketling. 
 
 "Rise, sir." 
 
 "May I count on your aid? I am Pan Michael's brother. 
 To abandon this house will be doing an injury to him." 
 
 "My wishes do not count here," replied Krysia more com- 
 posedly, "but I cannot help being grateful for yours." 
 
 "I thank you!" cried Ketling, pressing her hand to his lips. 
 
 "Ah! there is frost outside and Cupid is naked, but if he 
 stayed here he would not freeze," cried Zagloba, _ "and I see 
 there will be a thaw from sighs alone, from sighs" alone!" 
 
 "Give us peace!" cried Krysia. 
 
 "Thank God you have not lost your jovial spirits," said 
 Ketling, "for jollity is a sure sign of health." 
 
 "And a clear conscience," added Zagloba, "and a clear con- 
 science! 'The sinner showeth a sad countenance,' says the 
 Man of God. I have nothing to trouble me, and so I am 
 joyous. Oh, a hundred Turks! What do I behold! I saw 
 you last in a Polish costume and sabre and leopard-skin cap, 
 and now you have become some kind of an Englishman and 
 are going about on slender legs like a stork." 
 
 "Because I have been for some time in Courland where 
 Polish costume is not worn and have just spent two days with 
 the English Minister at Warsaw." 
 
 "Then you have just come from Courland?" 
 
 "Yes! The relative who adopted me is dead and has left 
 me another estate there." 
 
 "Eternal rest to his soul! He was a good Catholic of 
 course?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "You have that consolation at least. But you will not cast 
 us off for this estate in Courland?" 
 
 "I shall live and die here," Ketling replied with a glance at 
 Krysia which made her immediately lower her long lashes. 
 
 "It was quite dark when Pan Makovyetska arrived, and 
 Ketling went out to the gate to receive her. He conducted 
 
9 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 the lady into the house with so much ceremony that she might 
 have been a sovereign princess. She wanted to seek other 
 quarters the next day within the city; but she was overruled. 
 The } r oimg knight begged, and insisted on his brotherly af- 
 fection for Pan Michael, and knelt to her until she consented 
 to stay on. She merely stipulated that Pan Zagloba should 
 also remain for some time so that his dignity and years might 
 be a protection to the ladies against scandalmongers. He 
 willingly consented, for he had become fondly attached to the 
 little haiduk and moreover he had begun to form certain 
 plans, for the success of which his presence was absolutely 
 necessary. The young ladies were both glad, and Bada 
 openly took Ketling's part. 
 
 "We can't move out to-day anyhow," she said to Pan 
 Michael's sister; "and if not, whether we stay one day or 
 twenty makes no difference." 
 
 She, as well as Krysia, was pleased with Ketling, for he 
 pleased all women, and besides, Basia had never seen a for- 
 eign cavalier except officers of foreign infantry, men of low 
 rank and common enough. Therefore she hovered about him, 
 shaking her locks, dilating her nostrils and gazing at him with 
 childlike curiosity; so noticeable was it that at last Pani 
 Makovyetska reproved her. But notwithstanding that she 
 did not cease scrutinizing him as if trying to assess his mili- 
 tary worth, and at last she asked Pan Zagloba in a whisper: 
 
 *Ts he a great soldier?" 
 
 "Yes! It would be impossible to be more famous. You 
 see, he has had great experience, for, holding fast to the true 
 faith, he served against the English rebels from his fourteenth 
 year. He is also of noble birth as you can easily see from his 
 manners." 
 
 "Have you ever seen him under fire?" 
 
 "A thousand times! In the thick of the fight he would halt 
 for you without a tremor, pat his horse on the shoulder, and 
 be ready to talk of love." 
 
 "Is it customary to talk of love at such a time? Eh?" 
 
 "It is usual to do everything by which a contempt for bul- 
 lets may be shown." 
 
 "But is he equally great hand to hand in a duel?" 
 
 "Yes, ye?! a regular wasp; there's no denying it." 
 
 "But could he withstand Pan Michael?" 
 
 "Not Pan Michael!" 
 
 "Ah!" Basia cried proudly and joyously, "I knew he 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 97 
 
 couldn't. I thought at once he couldn't." And she began to 
 clap her hands. 
 
 "So then, you take Pan Michael's part?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 Basia tossed her head and was silent; after a moment a 
 little sigh heaved her breast: 
 
 "Well! what of that? I am glad because he is one of us." 
 
 "But remember this and lay it carefully to heart, little 
 haiduck," continued Zagloba, "if it is hard to find a better 
 man on the field of battle than Ketling, he is still more dan- 
 gerous where women are concerned, who fall madly in love 
 with his graces. He is a past-master in love-making, too!" 
 
 "Tell that to Krysia, for my head does not run on love," 
 Basia replied, and turning towards her, she began to call 
 "Krysia, Krysia! Come here for only one word." 
 
 "I am here," said Panna Drohoyovska. 
 
 "Pan Zagloba says that no lady ever looks on Ketling with- 
 out immediately falling in love with him. I have examined 
 him from every aide and somehow nothing has happened; are 
 you touched?" 
 
 "Bashka, Bashka!" cried Krysia imploringly. 
 
 "Has he pleased you, eh?" 
 
 "Spare us! be a good child. Basia, dear, don't talk non- 
 sense, for Ketling is coming." 
 
 In fact Krysia had scarcely sat down when Ketling ap- 
 proached them and asked: 
 
 "Is it permitted to join the company?" 
 
 "We beg you most earnestly to do so," Krysia answered. 
 
 "Then may I venture to ask what you were talking about?" 
 
 "Love!" cried Basia without hesitation. 
 
 "Kotiing took a seat beside Krysia. There was a few mo- 
 ments' silence, for Krysia, who was generally so self-pos- 
 sessed, had become strangely timid in the presence of the 
 cavalier; therefore he was the first co a=>. 
 
 "Is it true that the subject oi c*iuiersation was such r 
 pleasant an?" 
 
 "It is," replied Knrsia in a low tone. 
 
 "I shall be most delighted to hear your ideas." 
 
 "Excuse IK, i aave neither the courage nor the wit, so I 
 would rather get some new light from you." 
 
 "Krysia is right," exclaimed Zn^loba, "let us listen." 
 
 "Ask me a question," said Ketlimr. 
 
 And, gazing upwards, he meditated for a little while and 
 tlv*n, although no one had questioned him, said, as if to 
 tniself: 
 7 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "To love is a terrible misfortune; for through love, a free 
 man becomes a captive. Just as a bird,, pierced by an arrow, 
 falls at the sportsman's feet, so the man transpierced by love 
 has no power to escape from the feet of his adored. 
 
 "To love is an affliction; for a man is blinded by it and can 
 see nothing beyond his love. To love is to mourn; for do not 
 the tears flow and deep sighs fill the breast? When a man is 
 in love he thinks neither of dress nor of sport; he prefers to 
 sit with his hands on his knees, sighing mournfully as if he 
 had lost a beloved friend. Love is a disease; for in love the 
 face likewise grows pale, the eyes are sunken, the hands 
 tremble, the fingers become transparent, and the mind dwells 
 on death or goes about like one distracted, with unkempt 
 hair, talks to the moon and takes delight in writing his be- 
 loved's name on the sand, and if the wind blows it away, he 
 cries 'miser/ . . . and begins to sob." 
 
 Here Ketling became silent; he seemed lost in thought. 
 Krysia listened to his words with her whole soul, as if to a 
 song. Her lips were parted, and her glance never left the 
 knight's pale face. Basia's hair fell over her eyes and veiled 
 them so that her thoughts could not be read; but she also sat 
 silent. 
 
 Then Zagloba yawned aloud, drew a long breath, stretched 
 out his legs, and said: "Have boots made for dogs out of 
 such love." 
 
 "But yet/' continued the knight, "if it is sad to love, it is 
 sadder still not to love; for who would take delight in pleasure, 
 glory, riches, perfumes, or jewels without love ? . . Who 
 would not say to the beloved one, 'I choose thee above a king- 
 dom, a sceptre, health, or long life? . . . And since every- 
 body would willingly give life in exchange for love, love is of 
 more value than life." 
 
 Ketling ended. 
 
 The young ladies nestled closely to each other, wondering at 
 his tender speech and these conceptions of love uncommon 
 in Polish cavaliers, till Zagloba, who was napping, woke, and 
 began to blink, glancing first at one and then at another, until 
 having recovered full consciousness, he asked loudly: 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "We bid you good-night," said Basia. 
 
 "Ah, now I know, we were talking about love. What con- 
 clusion did we come to?" 
 
 "That the lining was better than the cloak." 
 
 "There is no use in denying that I was sleepy; but 
 
JUICE AJffE. 99 
 
 loving, weeping, sighing Ah, I have still another rhyme for 
 it nappiifg and at present the most appropriate, for the 
 hour is late. (Jood-night to everybody, and stop talking about 
 your love. 0, my God, my God, while the cat is mewing she 
 will not eat cheese; but her mouth waters until she gets it. 
 In my time I resembled Ketling as one cup resembles another; 
 and I was eo madly in love that a ram might have butted my 
 back for an hour before I should have noticed it. But in old 
 age I prefer to rest well, especially when a kind host not only 
 conducts me to bed, but gives me a night-cap to drink." 
 
 "1 am at your lordship's service," said Ketling. 
 
 "Let us retire; let us retire! See how high the moon is 
 already. To-morrow will "be fine; it is as bright and clear as 
 daylight. Ketling would talk with you all night about love; 
 but remember, kids, that he is worn with travel." 
 
 "Not travel- worn, for I rested two days in the city. I am 
 only afraid that the ladies are not accustomed to staying up 
 at night." 
 
 "The night would pass quickly if we listened to you," said 
 Krysia. 
 
 "There is no night where the sun shines," Ketling replied. 
 
 Then they separated, for it was very late. The young ladies 
 slept in the same room and usually talked long before going 
 to .sleep; but this evening Basia could not understand Kry- 
 sia, for the one was just as anxious to be silent as the other 
 was to talk, and would only reply in monosyllables. Fre- 
 quently, too, when Basia, while speaking of Ketling, mim- 
 icked and laughed at him a little, Krysia embraced her very 
 affectionately and begged her to stop her jesting. 
 
 " He is our host, Basia," she said, "we are living under his 
 roof; and I noticed that he fell in love with you at first sight." 
 
 "How do you know that?" asked Basia. 
 
 "Who does not love you? Everybody loves you, and I 
 very much." . - . . 
 
 She then put her beautiful face against Basia's, nestled 
 close to her, and kissed her on the eyes. 
 
 At length they sought their beds, but Krysia could not 
 ^Icep for a long time. She was very much disturbed. At 
 times her heart beat so violently that she put both her hands 
 against her soft breast to suppress the throbbing. At times, 
 too, especially when she closed her eyes, she fancied that a 
 face beautiful as a dream, bent over her's and a low voice whis- 
 pered to her: 
 
 "I would rather possess tliee than a kingdom, or a sceptre, 
 or health, or long years, or life itself." 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 A few days later Zagloba wrote a letter to Pan Yan which 
 ended thus: 
 
 "If I do not return before the election, do not be sur- 
 prised. It will not be because of any lack of interest in 
 you; but as the Devil never sleeps, I might be left with 
 something useless in my hand instead of a bird which I do 
 not wish. It would be disastrous if when Michael returns, 
 I should not be able to say to him, 'She is engaged, and the 
 haiduk is free/ Everything is in God's hand; but I think 
 it will not be necessary to persuade Michael, nor to make 
 extensive preparations, and you will come when the engage- 
 ment is made. In the meantime, bearing Ulysses in mind, 
 it will be necessary for me to be diplomatic and give color 
 to it more than once, which is not easy for me, since all 
 my life I have preferred truth to everything else and been 
 glad to feed upon it. However, for the sake of Michael and 
 the little haiduk I will take this upon myself, for they are 
 pure gold. I embrace you and the boys, pressing you to my 
 heart and commending you to the Most High God/' 
 
 Having finished writing, Zagloba sprinkled sand upon the 
 paper; struck it with his hand, read it through again, hold- 
 ing it at arm's length; then, he folded it, took the signet from 
 his finger, moistened it, and just as he was beginning to seal 
 his letter, Ketling entered. 
 
 "Good-morning to your lordship!" 
 
 "Good-morning, good-morning!" said Zagloba. "Thanks 
 to God, it is beautiful weather, and I am just about to send 
 a messenger to Pan Yan." 
 
 "Send a greeting from me." 
 
 "I have already done so. I said to myself, 'I oiiffht to 
 send a greeting from Ketling. They will both be delighted 
 to receive good news/ It is certain that I have sent a mess- 
 age from you since I have written a whole letter about you 
 and the voung ladies." 
 
 "How is that?" asked Ketling. 
 (100) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. IOI 
 
 Zagloba placed his hands on his knees, and tapped 
 with his fingers; then lie lowered ,1ns li.-;'<i, ;-nd g#2irtg'' i'roni 
 under his brows at Ketling, said: "Kc tling it is iib{ neces- 
 sary to be a prophet to know 'tli^t lliut -arid _-s*< '!; .dways 
 produce sparks sooner or later. You- are* ' a f brilliant "-spark, 
 and even you could not find fault with the young ladies." 
 
 Ketling was decidedly confused. 
 
 "I should have to be blind or a barbarian," he said, "if I 
 did not recognize their beauty, and bow down before it." 
 
 "But," contiued Zagloba, smiling at the sight of Ketling's 
 blushes, "as long as you are not a barbarian, you ought not 
 to have both of them in your mind; only Turks act in that 
 way." 
 
 "Do you suppose ?" 
 
 "I suppose nothing. I only say this to myself. Ah, 
 traitor! you have talked so much to them about love that 
 Krysia's lips are as pale this third day as if she had taken 
 drugs. It is not astonishing; you are young. When I was 
 young myself, I used to stand out in the cold under the 
 window of a certain black-browed beauty; she was like Kry- 
 sia, and I remember how I used to sing. 
 
 "The day's work is ended, fair lady, you sleep 
 As playing the pipes here my vigil I keep, 
 
 Fa, la ! " 
 
 If you wish, I will loan you this song, or compose a new 
 one for you, for I have genius to spare. Have you noticed 
 that Panna Krysia reminds one slightly of Panna Bellevich, 
 except that Panna Bellevich has hair like hemp and no 
 down upon her lip? But there are some men who find 
 superiority in that and think it a rarity. She looks at you 
 with delight. I have just said so to Pan Yan. Don't you 
 think she is like Panna Bellevich before her marriage?' 1 * 
 
 "At the first moment I did not notice the resemblance, 
 but it may be so. In figure and height she suggests her." 
 
 "Now hear what I say. I am telling you family secrets; 
 but, as you are a friend, you ought to know them. Be on 
 your guard not to be ungrateful to Pan Michael, for Pani 
 Makovyetska and I have destined one of those maidens for 
 him." 
 
 Here Zagloba glanced quickly and senrchingly into Ket- 
 ling's eyes, while the latter turned pale and asked: 
 
 "Which one?" 
 
102 PAN MICHAEL 
 
 "Pa D ne Krysia/' replied Zagloba, deliberately, and, protru- 
 ding his lower ,li^, lie began to blink with his sound eye from 
 under his frowning brow. Ketling was silent for such a 
 long while that finally Zsagloba asked "What do you say to 
 that?" ' 
 
 Then Ketling answered in altered tones, but emphatically 
 "You may be sure that I will not indulge my feeling to 
 Michael's detriment," 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "I have suffered greatly in my life; I give my knightly 
 word that I will not indulge any sentiment to Michael'i 
 hurt." 
 
 At this Zagloba held out his arms: "Ketling, indulge any 
 sentiment you like, indulge it, poor fellow, to your heart's 
 content, for I only wanted to try you. It is not Panna 
 Krysia but the little haiduk whom we intend for Michael." 
 
 Ketling's face grew radiant with great and deep joy, and, 
 clasping Zagloba in his arms, he held him in a long embrace, 
 and at length asked : 
 
 "Is it already certain that they love one another?' 
 
 "Who would not love my little haiduk, who indeed?" cried 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "Then they are already .betrothed?" 
 
 "There has been no betrothal, for Michael has hardly got 
 over his mourning yet; but there will be, on my head be 
 it! The maiden, though she is as hard to catch as a weasel, 
 is very fond of him, for with her the sabre is the foundation 
 of everything." 
 
 "I have remarked it!" interrupted the beaming Ketling. 
 
 "Ah! you have remarked it! Michael is still mourning 
 for the other; but if anyone can please him it is certainly the 
 little haiduk, for she most resembles his dead love, though 
 she is not so striking on account of her youth. Everything 
 is going well. I will go bail that these two weddings will 
 take place at the time of the election." 
 
 Ketling again embraced Zagloba without saying a word 
 and laid his handsome face against his red cheeks till the 
 old man gasped and cried: 
 
 "Has Panna Krysia already wormed herself into your 
 heart like that?" 
 
 "I know not, I know not!" Ketling replied, "hut this I 
 know: scarcely had 'her heavenly sight enchanted my eyes 
 when I told myself that here was the one woman whom my 
 
PAN MICHAEL. IO3 
 
 lacerated heart might yet love; and that same night I ban- 
 ished sleep with my sighs and gave myself up to delicious 
 longings. Thenceforth she absorbed rny entire being as a 
 queen dominates a loyal and obedient land. I know not 
 whether this be love or something else." 
 
 "But you do know that it is not a cap, nor three yards of 
 cloth for a pair of trunk-hose, nor a saddle-girth, nor leg- 
 gings, nor an omelette, nor a pitcher of gorzalka. If you 
 are sure of this then ask Krysia about the rest; or, if you 
 like, I will ask her myself." 
 
 "Don't do that," said Ketling with a smile. "If I am to 
 drown, at least let me think I am swimming, if only for a 
 couple of days more." 
 
 "I see that in war the Scots are fine fellows, but they are 
 of no use in love. Boldness and impetuosity are needed 
 with women as with foes. 'Veni, vidi, vici' was my motto." 
 
 "If my ardent desires are to be fulfilled the time may 
 come when I may request your friendly offices: although I am 
 naturalized and have noble blood in my veins, yet my name 
 is unknown here and I am not confident that Pani Makovy- 
 eteka 
 
 "Pani Makovyetska?" interrupted Zagloba. "Have no 
 fear there. Pani Makovyetska is a regular musical snuff- 
 box; as it is wound up so it plays. I will get at her at once; 
 I must prepare her you know, so that she may not frown on 
 your advances to the lady. As your Scotch method is differ- 
 ent to ours I will not of course make an immediate proposal 
 in your name; I will merely say that you are attracted by 
 the lady and it would be well if that flour should be con- 
 verted into dough. On my word, I will go at once; have 
 no fear, for in any case I have a right to say what I please." 
 
 And although Ketling tried to detain him, Zagloba got up 
 and went out. 
 
 On the way he met Basia flying along as usual, and said: 
 
 "Are you aware that Krysia has entirely captivated Ket- 
 ling?" 
 
 "He's not the first." 
 
 "Aren't you displeased about it?" 
 
 "Ketling is a doll! a gay companion, but still a doll! I 
 have knocked my knee against the shaft of the carriage and 
 that's what troubles me." 
 
 And Basia bent down and began to rub her knee, still 
 keeping her eyes on Zagloba, who said; 
 
I0 4 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake be careful! Where are you off to 
 now?" 
 
 "To Krysia." 
 
 "What is she doing?" 
 
 "She? For some time now she has kept kissing me and 
 rubbing against me like a cat." 
 
 "Don't tell that she has made a conquest of Ketling." 
 
 "Ah, but how can I help it?" 
 
 Zagloba was perfectly well aware that Basia would not be 
 able to help it and forbade her for that reason. 
 
 He therefore continued his way in high glee at his own 
 cunning, and Basia burst into Krysia's room like a bomb. 
 
 "I have hurt my knee; and Ketling is hopelessly in love 
 with you!" she cried before she had fairly entered. I did 
 not see the shaft sticking out of the coach-house and got 
 such a knock. It made me see stars, but never mind that! 
 Pan Zagloba told me not to say anything to you about Ket- 
 ling. Did I not tell you at once that it would turn out so? 
 And you talked of giving him to me! Never fear; I know 
 you My knee is still rather painful. I have not ceded Pan 
 Michael to you but Ketling, oho! Now he is wandering all 
 over the place mooning. Well done, Krysia, well done! 
 Scot, Scot, scat, cat!" 
 
 Here Basia began to point her finger at her companion. 
 
 "Basia!" cried Krysia. 
 
 "Scot, Scot, cot, cot! (puss, puss!)" 
 
 "How miserable I am!" suddenly exclaimed Krysia burst- 
 ing into tears. 
 
 Then Basia tried to comfort her, but in vain, for she 
 sobbed as she never had before in all her life. 
 
 In fact not one in the house knew how unhappy she 
 really was. She had been feverish for some days now; her 
 cheeks had lost their color, her eyes had become sunken, and 
 her breast heaved with short sighs. Some wonderful change 
 had come over her; she seemed to have failed altogether, 
 and that not by degrees but quite suddenly. It had fallen 
 upon her like a cyclone and carried her away; it had fired 
 her blood like a flame and flashed through her imagination 
 like lightning. She was utterly powerless to resist this feel- 
 ing that had mastered her so suddenly. Tranquility had 
 deserted her. Her will was like a bird with a broken wing. 
 
 Krysia herself did not know whether she loved or hated 
 Ketling, and the question filled her with infinite dread. But 
 
PAN MICHAEL. IO5 
 
 she felt that her heart beat more quickly only through him; 
 on his account she was lost in thought; she was completely 
 absorbed by him, and did not attempt to steel herself 
 against the influence. It would have been easier for her not 
 to love him than not to think of him; for her eyes were glad- 
 dened by his sight, his voice made her deaf to all else, her 
 whole soul was engrossed by him. Even sleep could not 
 banish his haunting presence, for whenever she closed her 
 eyes, his head bent over hers and she heard the whisper 
 "I would rather possess thee than a kingdom, a sceptre, fame, 
 or wealth." And the head seemed to come so near to her 
 that, although it was dark, her face was suffused with deep 
 blushes. She was a hot-blooded Russian; strong fires flamed 
 in her breast, such as she had never dreamed of before and 
 which filled her with fear >and shame, and a weakness ap- 
 proaching faintness, at once painful and agreeable. Night 
 brought her no peace. A constantly increasing weariness 
 took possession of her, as if produced by incessant toil. 
 
 "Krysial Krysia! what is the matter with you?" she said 
 to herself. 
 
 But she seemed to be dazed and in constant agitation. 
 
 Nothing had happened yet, nothing at all. Up to this 
 time she had not exchanged two words with Ketling alone; 
 but the thought of him had taken entire possession of her; 
 and an instinctive warning voice seemed to be incessantly 
 whispering: "Take care of yourself! Avoid him" . . . 
 And she avoided him. . . . 
 
 Krysia had not given any thought to her engagement with 
 Pan Michael, which was fortunate; she had not paid atten- 
 tion to it because as yet nothing had taken place, and be- 
 cause she took no thought of herself or anyone else except 
 Ketling. 
 
 This also she concealed deep in her heart; and the belief 
 that no one suspected what she was experiencing, that no 
 one thought of her in connection with Ketling, brought her 
 no slight comfort. Suddenly Basia's words revealed to her 
 that it was not so, that people were observing them, as- 
 sociating them and guessing the state of affairs. And this 
 was the cause of her disquietude, her shame and distress 
 which broke down her will, and made her weep like a little 
 child. 
 
 But Basia's words were only the prelude to further in- 
 sinuations, significant glumes, \\ -inks, and nods, to say noth- 
 
I0 6 PAX MICHAEL, 
 
 ing of those phrases of double-meaning, which she had to 
 bear. These began at dinner. 
 
 Pan Michael's sister looked from Krysia to Ketling and 
 from Ketling to Krysia, a thing she had never done before. 
 Pan Zagloba coughed significantly. Sometimes there was 
 a pause in the conversation nobody knew why, and a deep 
 silence followed, and in one of these lulls Basia, whose hair 
 was in wild disorder, cried out in the hearing of everyone 
 
 "I know something that I won't tell!" 
 
 Krysia blushed furiously and then suddenly turned pale, 
 as if in great alarm; Ketling was also embarrassed. Each 
 felt that this remark had reference to them, and, although 
 they studiously avoided talking to each other so as to escape 
 scrutiny, they knew that a sentiment was springing up be- 
 tween them and that an undefined sympathy was gradually 
 being formed. This consciousness at once united and kept 
 them apart, for it destroyed their free intercourse and they 
 could be no longer ordinary friends to each other. Happily 
 no one took any notice of Basia's words. All were inter- 
 ested in Pan Zagloba's preparations to go to the city and re- 
 turn with a large company of knights. 
 
 Ketling's cottage was brightly lighted that evening; about 
 a dozen officers were present, and the hospitable host pro- 
 vided music for the especial entertainment of the ladies. Of 
 course, there was no dancing, for it was Lent, and, besides, 
 Ketling was in mourning; but they all heard the music and 
 enjoyed conversation. The ladies were beautifully dressed. 
 Michael's sister appeared in Oriental silk. The little haiduk 
 was attired in various colors, and charmed the eyes of the 
 officers with her rosy cheeks and shining hair which would 
 occasionally fall across her eyes; her blunt words aroused 
 laughter and her manners, a combination of Cossack daring 
 and artlessness, created astonishment. 
 
 Krysia, who was now out of mourning for her father, 
 wore a white robe trimmed with silver. Some of the knights 
 compared her to Juno, others to Diana; but no one twisted 
 his moustache, jingled his spurs, or ogled her; no one looked 
 upon her with sparkling eyes or talked to her about love. 
 Soon, however, she began to notice that those who looked 
 at her with admiration and reverence immediately glanced 
 at Ketling; while others on approaching him seized his hand 
 as if to congratulate him and give him their good wishes; 
 and that he shrugged his shoulders and spread Ms hands 
 
PAN MICHAEL. IO7 
 
 as if in deprecation. Krysia, who was naturally observant 
 and penetrating, felt sure that they were speaking to him 
 about her, and that they looked upon her as his betrothed; 
 and, as she did not know that Pan Zagloba had whispered 
 something into every man's ear, she was at a loss to under- 
 stand whence these suppositions arose. 
 
 - "Is there anything written on my brow?' 7 she asked herself 
 anxiously. She was distressed and ashamed. 
 
 And just then words came floating to- her on the air as if 
 meant for her but still audible: "Lucky Ketling! . . . 
 He was born with a caul. ... No wonder, for he is a 
 handsome fellow! . . ." and similar words. 
 
 Other courteous cavaliers in an attempt to please her and 
 say something acceptable, talked about Ketling, praising 
 him to the skies, extolling his courage, his kindness, his re- 
 fined manners, and ancient lineage. And Krysia had to listen 
 whether she would or not, and her eyes involuntarily wan- 
 dered to that man of whom people were telling her, and 
 sometimes their eyes met. Then she fell more powerfully 
 under the spell and took an unconscious delight in gazing 
 at him; for what a contrast Ketling was to all these rough 
 soldiers! "A king's son amid his retinue/' thought Krysia 
 as she looked at that noble, aristocratic head, and those am- 
 bitious eyes clouded with a certain inherent sadness, and 
 that brow shaded with exuberant golden curls. She felt her 
 heart sink and yearn as if that was the dearest head on earth 
 to her. Ketling noticed it, and, anxious not to add to her 
 confusion, did not appr ach while another was at her side. 
 He could not have paid her greater homage or attention if 
 she had been a queen. When he addressed her he bowed his 
 head and drew back one foot as if about to kneel before 
 her; he spoke to her with dignity and never in jest, as he 
 did to Basia for example. In his dealings with Krysia there 
 was always a tinge of tender melancholy as well as the ut- 
 most respect. The consequence was that no other man in- 
 dulged in too free speech, or jesting too bold, as if they were 
 all satisfied that her birth and dignity were far above that 
 of ordinary women and that she was a lady who could never 
 be treated with too much deference. 
 
 Krysia felt excessively grateful for that. On the whole 
 the evening was a pleasant though anxious one for her. When 
 it was nearly midnight the music ceased, the ladies took 
 leave of the guests and cups began to circulate among the 
 
2o g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 knights and a more riotous scene ensued in which Pan Za- 
 globa occupied the place of Hetman. Basia went upstairs 
 happy as a bird, for she had greatly enjoyed herself. Be- 
 fore saying her prayers she jested and mimicked various 
 guests: at last she clapped her hands and said: 
 
 "How delightful it is that your Ketling came! There will 
 be no lack of soldiers now. Only let us get through Lent and 
 I'll have dancing enough. What fun we'll have! And if I 
 don't turn the house upside down at your betrothal and 
 wedding may the Tartars catch me! What if they really 
 were to! In the first place there would be. ... Ah, 
 the good Ketling! He will get the musicians for you but 
 I shall get the benefit of them with you. He will bring 
 you marvel after marvel till at last he does this. . . . 
 
 Here Basia suddenly fell on her knees before Krysia and 
 putting her arm round her waist began to speak, imitating 
 Ketling's low tones: 
 
 "My lady! I love you so that I cannot breathe. . . . 
 I love you on foot and on horseback. I love you fasting and 
 after meals. I love you for eternity, and as the Scotch love. 
 . . . Will you be mine ?" 
 
 "Basia, I shall be angry!" cried Krysia. 
 
 But instead of getting angry she caught Basia in her arms 
 and kissed her on the eyes as she made a feeble attempt to 
 raise hr. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Pan Zagloba was perfectly well aware that Pan Michael pre- 
 ferred Krysia to Basia, and for that very reason he deter- 
 mined to get Krysia out of the way. Knowing Pan Michael 
 thoroughly as he did, he was satisfied that, if there was no 
 choice left, he would undoubtedly turn to Basia, with whom 
 the old noble was himself so infatuated that he could not con- 
 ceive how anyone could prefer anybody else. He also thought 
 that it was impossible to render Pan Michael a greater service 
 than to gain his little haiduk for him, and the thought of that 
 union delighted his heart. He was provoked with Pan 
 Michael and Krysia: certainly he would rather have Pan 
 Michael marry Krysia than no one, but he resolved to do all 
 in his power to induce him to marry the little haiduk. 
 
 It was just on account of his knowledge of the little knight's 
 affection for Panna Drohoyovska that he was bent on making 
 her Pani Ketling as soon as possible. 
 
 Nevertheless the answer he received from Pan Yan some 
 days later somewhat weakened his resolution. Pan Yan coun- 
 selled him not to meddle at all in the matter, for he feared 
 that if he did it might easily result in trouble between the old 
 friends. Zagloba was far from desiring that, and so he had 
 certain secret misgivings which he quieted by the following 
 reasoning: 
 
 "If Michael and Krysia had been betrothed and I had 
 thrust Ketling in between them like a wedge it would be an- 
 other matter. Solomon says: 'Don't poke your nose into 
 other people's business/ and he is^fluite right. But every man 
 has the right to wish. Besides, after all, what have I done? I 
 should like any one to tell me that!" 
 
 Here Zagloba rested his hands on his hips, pouted his lips, 
 and glared defiantly round his room as if expecting the walls 
 to answer his challenge; but as they kept silence he continued: 
 "I told Ketling that I intended the little haiduk for Michael. 
 Isn't that permissible? Isn't that quite true? If I want 
 Michael to have any other woman may the gout afflict me!" 
 
IIO PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 The walls by their silence acknowledged the justice of Zag- 
 loba's words, so he proceeded: "I told the little haiduk that 
 Ketling had fallen a victim to Krysia; perhaps that is not true 
 either! Has he not confessed it: has he not sat beside the 
 hearth and sighed till the ashes smothered the room? And I 
 only told others what I saw. Pan Yan is a sharp fellow, but 
 my wit is not something to be thrown to the dogs either! I 
 can decide for myself what may be said and what had better 
 be left unsaid. . . H'm! he writes that I had better not in- 
 terfere in anything. "Well, I can do that too. Hereafter I 
 won't interfere in anything. When I am the third party in 
 company with Krysia and Ketling I will go out and leave 
 them alone together. Let them manage without me! Bah! I 
 think they can do it. They need no assistance whatever, for 
 now they are so drawn to each other that they have eyes for 
 nothing else and besides Spring is coming when not only the 
 sun, but desire grows warmer. Well! I will let them alone, 
 and we will see what will be the result." 
 
 And in fact it was not long before the result was to be 
 seen. For Holy Week all the guests at Ketling's went to 
 Warsaw and lodged at the hotel on Dluga street, so as to be 
 near the churches to perform thair devotions at their ease, 
 and at the same time to feast their eyes on the holiday life and 
 stir of the city. 
 
 There Ketling did the honors as host, for, though a for- 
 eigner by birth, he knew the capital thoroughly and had many 
 acquaintances everywhere who helped him to make everything 
 pleasant. He outdid himself in politeness and seemed to an- 
 ticipate every thought of his fair charges, Krysia especially. 
 Besides they had all come to be very fond of him. Pani 
 Makovyetska, as Zagloba had prophesied, regarded him and 
 Krysia with more favor from day to day, and if, so far, she 
 had said nothing about the matter to Krysia, it was only be- 
 cause he had not yet spoken. The worthy aunt considered it 
 quite natural and right that the cavalier should win the lady, 
 particularly as he was so -distinguished and received such 
 proofs of esteem and friendship, not only from ordinary peo- 
 ple, but from those of high rank; and won over everybody 
 with his marvellous grace, deportment, dignity, and gentle- 
 ness in times of peace, as well as valor in war. 
 
 "What God wills and my husband decides will happen," said 
 Pan Michael's sister <to herself; "but I will not cross this 
 couple/' 
 
PAN MICHAEL. in 
 
 Thanks to this determination Ketling found himself in 
 Krysia's company more frequently and longer than in his own 
 house. Moreover the whole party always went out together. 
 
 Zagloba usually gave his arm to Pan Michael's sister, Ket- 
 ling took Krysia, and Basia, as the youngest, walked alone, 
 sometimes hastening on far in advance and then again halting 
 in front of shops to gape at merchandise and treasures from 
 beyond, the sea that she now saw for the first time. Krysia 
 gradually grew more accustomed to being with Ketling, and 
 now, as she leaned on his arm and listened to his conversa- 
 tion, or gazed at his noble face, her heart no longer beat with 
 alarm, she did not lose her presence of mind, nor was her heart 
 filled with confusion, but with a deep and intoxicated delight. 
 They were constantly alone; they knelt beside each other in 
 church and their voices joined in prayer and praise. 
 
 Ketling was fully aware of the state of his own heart. 
 Krysia, either from uncertainty or because she wanted to de- 
 ceive herself, did not confess even to herself, "I love him;" 
 but they were deeply in love with one another. But in addi- 
 tion to love they had a great friendship for each other. They 
 had not spoken of love as yet; the time passed like a dream 
 and brightness was above them. 
 
 Gloomy clouds of self-reproach were soon to darken the 
 horizon for Krysia, but for the present all was peace. By her 
 intimacy with Ketling and growing accustomed to him, and 
 by the love and friendship that had sprung up between them, 
 Krysia's compunctions had been silenced, she no longer in- 
 dulged disturbing thoughts and the struggle between her 
 blood and will had ceased. They were beside each other; 
 they were happy in each other's society; and Krysia entirely 
 abandoned herself to the blissful present and was reluctant 
 to think that it could ever end or that the illusion was likely 
 to be broken by the one word "Love" from Ketling. 
 
 That word was soon spoken. One day when Pan Michael's 
 sister and Basia were visiting a sick relative, Ketling per- 
 suaded Krysia and Pan Zagloba to go and see the king's 
 castle, which she had not yet seen, and which was widely 
 famed for its marvels. So they all three went together. All 
 doors had been opened by Ketling's liberality, and Krysia 
 was greeted by the keepers with as profound respect as though 
 she were a queen entering her own residence. Ketling was 
 perfectly familiar with the castle, and himself conducted her 
 through the magnificent halls and chambers. They examined 
 
II2 PAN MICHAflt. 
 
 the theatre and royal baths; they stopped before pictures of 
 the battles and victories gained by Sigismund and Vladislav 
 over the barbarism of the East; they went on the terraces 
 whence an extensive view was to be had. Krysia was amazed 
 with all she saw; he explained everything to her, but now and 
 then he would become silent, and gazing into her dark-blue 
 eyes his glance seemed to say, "What are all these marvels in 
 comparison with thee? What are all these treasures beside 
 thee?" 
 
 She comprehended that silent eloquence. He led her to 
 one of the royal apartments and halted before a door con- 
 cealed in the wall. 
 
 "The cathedral may be reached by this door," he said. 
 "There is a long corridor ending in a little gallery near the 
 high altar. From that gallery the king and queen generally 
 hear Mass." 
 
 "I know that way very well," exclaimed Zagloba, "for I was 
 intimate with John Casimir. Maria Ludovika was very fond 
 of me, so that they both often invited me to Mass to have the 
 pleasure of my company added 'to the edification of piety." 
 
 "Would you like to go in?" asked Ketling, calling the 
 porter. 
 
 "Let us go," Krysia answered. 
 
 "Go alone," said Zagloba, "you are young and have good 
 legs; I have already had enough trotting about. Go on; go 
 on; I will stay here with the porter. And even if you say a 
 couple of Paters I shan't mind the loss of time, as meanwhile 
 I shall be resting." 
 
 They went in. 
 
 Ketling took her by the hand and led her through a long 
 corridor. He did not press her hand to his heart, but walked 
 calmly and composedly. At intervals the side windows illum- 
 ined their figures and then they were again plunged in dark- 
 ness. His heart beat quicker, for this was the first time they 
 bad ever been alone, but his 'tranquility quieted her too. At 
 last they emerged in the little gallery on the right side of the 
 church near the high altar. They knelt down and began to 
 pray. The church was silent and empty. Two candles were 
 burning before the high altar, but all the lower part of the 
 nave was shrouded in impressive dusk. Only from the rain- 
 bow-colored glass of the windows rays fell upon the two beau- 
 tiful faces absorbed in prayer, and as calm as the faces of 
 cherubim, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 1 13 
 
 Ketling was the first to rise, and not daring to raise his 
 voice above a whisper in the church, he said: 
 
 "Look at this velvet-covered rail; it retains the marks 
 where the royal pair rested their heads. The queen sat on 
 that side nearest the altar. Eest where she did!" . 
 
 "Is it true that her whole life was unhappy?" whispered 
 Krysia as she took the seat. 
 
 "I heard her story when still a child, for they tell it in 
 every baronial castle. Perhaps she was unhappy because she 
 could not marry him to whom her heart was given." 
 
 Krysia rested her head in the hollow made by that of 
 Maria Ludovika and closed her eyes. A strange feeling of 
 pain took possession of her breast and a kind of chill sud- 
 denly struck her from the deserted nave and disturbed the 
 calm in which her spirit had been steeped but a moment ago. 
 Ketling gazed silently at Krysia and a stillness that was ac- 
 tually of the temple succeeded. 
 
 Then he slowly bowed at her feet and in quiet tones that 
 were yet full of emotion, said: 
 
 "It is no sin to kneel to you in this sacred place; for where 
 should true love seek a henison if not in a church? I love 
 you more than my life; more than any earthly good; I love 
 you with my whole soul and heart, and I confess it to you 
 here before this altar." 
 
 Krysia's face became as white as a sheet. Leaning her head 
 against the velvet back of the seat, the unhappy girl did not 
 stir as he continued: 
 
 "I kiss your feet and await your reply. Am I to leave this 
 place in a state of heavenly bliss, or unendurable grief that 
 I shall not be able to survive?" 
 
 He waited some moments for an answer, but as none came 
 he bowed his head till it almost touched Krysia' s feet, and 
 his emotion increased and manifested itself in his trembling 
 and breathless voice: 
 
 "In your hands I place my life and happiness. I crave your 
 mercy, for my burden is great." 
 
 "Let us pray for the mercy of God!" cried Krysia, suddenly 
 falling upon her knees. 
 
 Ketling did not understand her, but did not venture to 
 make any opposition, and therefore knelt beside her in min- 
 gled hope and fear. They again began to pray. 
 
 At intervals their voices were audible in the empty church, 
 and were echoed back strangely and mournfully. 
 I 
 
H4 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "God be merciful!" cried Krysia. 
 
 "God be merciful!" Ketling repeated. 
 
 "Have mercy upon us!" 
 
 "Have mercy upon us!" 
 
 She continued her prayer in silence; but Ketling saw that 
 her whole body was shaken with weeping. It was long before 
 she could calm herself, and at last, quieting down, she con- 
 tinued kneeling motionlessly. At length she got up and said: 
 "Let us go!" 
 
 They again entered the long corridor. Ketling hoped that 
 he would receive some answer on the way, and tried to meet 
 her glance, but in vain. She walked in haste as though anx- 
 ious to get back as soon as possible to the hall where Zagloba 
 was awaiting them. 
 
 But when they were near the door the knight took hold of 
 her skirt. 
 
 "Panna Krystina," he cried, "by all that is sacred- 
 Then Krysia turned, and seizing his hand so quickly that 
 he had no time to make any resistance, she raised it in an 
 instant to her lips. 
 
 "I love you with my whole soul; but I can never be yours!" 
 and before the astonished Ketling could utter a word she 
 added: 
 
 "Forget everything that has happened." 
 
 In another moment they were both in the hall. The porter 
 was dozing in one armchair and Zagloba in another. Their 
 entrance aroused them. Zagloba opened his one eye and 
 began to blink in half consciousness, but gradually he re- 
 covered memory of the time and people. 
 
 "Ah, there you are!" he said, pulling himself together. "I 
 was dreaming that the new king was elected and that he was 
 a Pole. Did you go to the little gallery?" 
 
 "We did." 
 
 "Did the spirit of Maria Ludovika appear to you by any 
 chance?" 
 
 "It did!" Krysia replied sombrely. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 When they left tfie castle, Ketling felt the need of collect- 
 ing his thoughts and recovering from his amazement at 
 Krysia's conduct. He bade her and Zagloba farewell at the 
 gate, and they returned to their lodgings. Basia and Pani 
 Stolnikova had already come back from the invalid lady; and 
 Pani Stolnikova greeted Zagloba as follows: 
 
 "I have just received a letter from my husband, who is still 
 with Michael at the stanitsa. They are both well and expect 
 to come here very soon. There is a letter for you from 
 Michael, but only a postcript from him to me in my hus- 
 band's letter. My husband also tells me that the quarrel 
 about one of Basia's estates with the Jubris has ended hap- 
 pily. It is nearly time for the provincial diets to meet. 
 They say that in that part of the country Pan Sobieski's name 
 carries weight, and that the local diet will yield to his wishes. 
 Every single man is getting ready for the election; but our 
 people will all be with the Crown-Marshal. It is now quite 
 warm there and the rains have begun. Our out-buildings in 
 Verkhutka have been burned. One of the servants dropped 
 a light, and as there was a wind 
 
 "What have you done with Michael's letter to me?" asked 
 Zagloba, interrupting the volume of news which the esti- 
 mable lady was pouring forth in a single breath. 
 
 "Here it is," she answered, handing him the letter. "There 
 was such a wind, and everybody had gone to the fair 
 
 "How did the letters get here?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "They were taken to Ketling's and brought on by a servant. 
 I said there was such a wind ' 
 
 "Would you like to hear this, Madam?" 
 
 "Of course, I entreat you." 
 
 Breaking the seal, Zagloba .began to read to himself in an 
 undertone and presently aloud: 
 
 "You shall have this first letter; but God grant that there 
 be none to follow it, for posts are unreliable in this part of the 
 world, and besides I hope to be with you soon. It is pleasant 
 
 ("5) 
 
n 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 enough here in the field, but I long to come to you and 
 thoughts and memories are always haunting me, in conse- 
 quence of which I prefer solitude to company. Our duty is 
 fulfilled, for the hordes are now quiet, with the exception of 
 a few small bands rioting in the fields; but we fell upon them 
 twice with such effect that not one was left to tell of their 
 calamity." 
 
 "Oh, they made it hot for them," exclaimed Basia, joyfully. 
 "No calling is better than a soldier's." 
 
 Zagloba read on: "Doroshenko's rabble would like to have 
 a smack at us, but they are powerless without the horde. The 
 prisoners admit that a larger chambul will not move from any 
 place, and I believe this because it would have started already, 
 for the grass has now been green a week, which would give 
 pasture for their horses. Patches of snow are still lying in 
 the ravines; but the open steppes are green and there are 
 balmy breezes which make the horses shed their hair, and 
 this is the surest of all signs of spring. I have asked for leave 
 of absence, which may arrive at any moment, and I will start 
 the instant it comes. Pan Adam will take my place in keep- 
 ing guard, and there is so little to do that Makovyetska and I 
 have been fox-hunting for days at a time, simply for out 
 own amusement, for the fur is only good up to Spring . . . 
 There are a good many bustards here, and my servant shot a 
 pelican among the reeds. I embrace you with all my heart; 
 I kiss the hands of my sister ana Panna Krysia, to whose 
 good graces I commend myself, beseeching God that I may 
 find her unchanged and her consolation as before. Greet 
 Panna Basia for me. Pan Adam has vented the anger ex- 
 cited by his rejection at Mokotov upon the backs of ruffians, 
 but it is very certain that some of it still remains. He has 
 not quite recovered yet. I commit you to God and to His 
 holy favor. 
 
 p. g. I have just bought some fine ermine from some 
 travelling Armenians, which I intend to bring as a present to 
 Panna Krysia, and I have some Turkish sweets for our little 
 haiduk." 
 
 "Pan Michael may eat them himself; I'm not a child," said 
 Basia, whose face flamed red, as if with a sudden unpleasant- 
 ness. 
 
 "Then you won't be glad to see him? Are you angry with 
 him?" Zagloba asked. 
 
 Basia mumbled a reply in a low voice, for she was really 
 
PAN MICHAEL. II7 
 
 angry, and began to think how lightly Pan Michael regarded 
 her and also about the bustard and the pelican, which particu- 
 larly aroused her curiosity. 
 
 It was fortunate that Krysia sat with her back to the light 
 and with closed eyes, while the letter was being read, because 
 no one could see her face, which revealed the fact that some- 
 thing unusual had occurred. The scene in the church and 
 Pan Volodiyovskfs letter were two terrible shocks for her. 
 Her marvellous dream had vanished; and now she was com- 
 pelled to face a stern reality as overwhelming as misfortune. 
 She had no command over her thoughts, and undefined, vague 
 feelings were at war in her heart. Pan Michael, together 
 with his letter, his promise of soon coming, and his package 
 of ermine seemed so tiresome that he was almost repellant. 
 Ketling, on the other hand, had never seemed so dear to her. 
 Dear was his face, dear his words, dear his melancholy, dear 
 the very thought of him, and now she must leave this love 
 and devotion, leave him for whom her heart is longing and 
 her arms outstretched, for the endless pain and sorrow of giv- 
 ing her soul and body to another, who only because he is 
 another has almost become odious to her. 
 
 "I cannot do it, I cannot do it!" cried Krysia in her heart. 
 
 She began to feel as if she were being bound in irons; yet 
 she had placed the fetters on her own wrists, for she had had 
 the chance of telling Pan Michael that she would be a sister 
 to him and nothing more. 
 
 The memory of the kiss haunted her the kiss received and 
 returned, and a wave of shame and scorn for herself swept 
 over her. Was she in love with Pan Michael that day? No! 
 There was really no love in her heart then, nothing but a 
 little sympathy, curiosity, and idle fancy, hidden under the 
 mask of sisterly affection. She now knows for the first time 
 the difference between the kiss of love and the kiss of warm 
 impulse which are as far removed as an angel is from a devil. 
 Along witfr contempt Krysia's anger was rising; finally 
 her pride asserted itself and attacked Pan Michael. He was 
 also in the wrong; why should she have to bear all the punish- 
 ment, contrition, and disappointment? Why should he not 
 also taste the bitter cup? Has she not the right to say to 
 him when he returns: 
 
 "I was mistaken I mistook pity for love. You were also 
 deceived; now give it up as I do!" 
 
 Suddenly her blood runs cold with fear, fear of that ter- 
 
H8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 rible man's vengeance; she is not afraid for herself, but for 
 her beloved upon whom revenge will inevitably fall. In her 
 imagination she sees Ketling arrayed against that king of 
 swordsmen, and then swept down as a flower is cut by a 
 scythe; she sees his blood, his white face, his eyes closed for- 
 ever, and her mental suffering becomes unendurable. She 
 rises quickly and goes to her room to escape the eyes of every- 
 one and to avoid the conversation regarding Pan Michael and 
 his approaching visit. More and more animosity rises in her 
 heart towards the little knight. 
 
 But Eemorse and Regret assailed, her and would not even 
 leave her during her prayers; they hovered around her bed, 
 when she lay down spent with weariness, and seemed to speak 
 to her. 
 
 "Where is he?" asked Kegret. "He has not come in yet; 
 he is wandering about in the dark in great despair. Thou 
 wouldst bow down the heavens for him, thou wouldst give 
 him thy life's blood ; but thou hast given him a poisoned cup, 
 thou hast stabbed him to the heart." 
 
 "Had it not been for thy frivolity," said Remorse, "had it 
 not been for thy desire to bring every man to thy feet, every- 
 thing might be different; but now despair is all that remains 
 for thee. It is thy sin, thy great sin. No help can come to 
 thee; nothing will rescue thee now, nothing remains but 
 shame, and sorrow, and tears." 
 
 "How he knelt before thee in the church!" said Regret 
 again. "It is a wonder that thy heart did not break when he 
 looked in thine eyes and begged for pity. How just it was in 
 thee to have mercy upon a stranger, but for the beloved one, 
 the adored one, what? God comfort him! God bless him!" 
 
 "Were it not for thy frivolity that adored one might depart 
 joyous," said Remorse, "thou mightest journey through life 
 arm-in-arm with him, his chosen one, his wife " 
 
 "And remain with him forever,'' added Regret. 
 
 "It is thy fault," said Remorse. 
 
 "0 Krysia, weep," said Regret. 
 
 "That sin cannot be redeemed," said Remorse. 
 
 "Act as thou wilt, but try to console him," said Regret. 
 
 "Volodiyovski will kill him," immediately said Remorse. 
 
 Krysia broke out in a cold perspiration, and sat up in bed. 
 The room, flooded with the white rays of moonlight, looked 
 weird, and terrified her. 
 
 "'Wliat is that?" thought Krysia. "Oh, it is Basia sleeping. 
 
MICIIAEL. ng 
 
 I see her now, for the moon is shining on her face; but I don't 
 know when she came in, or when she undressed and went to 
 bed. And yet I have not slept a single minute it is certain 
 my poor brain is wandering/ 7 
 
 So meditating, she again lay down; but Eegret and Ke- 
 morse remained at her bedside, like two goddesses, who in 
 turn became visible and invisible in the silvery moonbeams. 
 
 "I shall not sleep at all to-night," said Krysia. 
 
 Then she began to think of Ketling and to suffer more and 
 more. 
 
 All at once Basia's pathetic voice broke the stillness of the 
 night. 
 
 "Krysia!" 
 
 "Aren't you asleep?" 
 
 "No, I have just had a dream that a Turk shot Pam Michael 
 with an arrow. Christ! a false dream! But I am shaking 
 with fear. Let us say the Litany, so that God may turn away 
 evil fortune." 
 
 "God grant that some one may shoot him!" was the wish 
 that flashed through Krysia's brain like lightning. Then she 
 was instantly appalled by her own wickedness, and though she 
 had to exert almost superhuman strength just at that moment 
 to pray for Volodiyovski's return, yet she answered: 
 
 "Certainly, Basia." 
 
 They both got out of bed, and, kneeling on their bare 
 knees on the moonlit floor, began to repeat the Litany. Their 
 voices rose and fell in response and one would have thought 
 this room the cell of a cloister, in which two little white nuns 
 were repeating their nocturnal prayers. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The next morning Krysia was more tranquil; for in a 
 tangled maze, though very difficult, the path she had selected 
 was the right one. Following this at least she could see 
 whither it led. But first she intended to have an interview 
 with Ketling and talk with him for the last time, so that 
 there should be no misunderstanding. This was a difficult 
 matter, for Ketling did not put in an appearance for some 
 days and stayed away at night. 
 
 Krysia therefore began to rise before dawn and go to the 
 neighboring church of the Dominicans hoping to meet him 
 some morning and have an interview without witnesses. 
 
 A few days later in fact she met him at the very door. 
 On seeing her he took off his cap and bowed his head in 
 silence. He stood motionless; his face was drawn with suf- 
 fering and loss of sleep and his eyes were sunken; his temples 
 were tinged with yellow and his complexion was waxen; he 
 looked like a beautiful fading flower. Krysia' s heart was torn 
 at his appearance; and though it always cost her a great deal 
 to take any decided step, being timid by nature, she was the 
 first to extend her hand and say: 
 
 "May God console and grant you forgetfulness!" 
 
 Ketling took her hand and carried it to his brow, and then 
 to his lips, pressing it long and fervently; then in accents 
 of the utmost sadness and resignation, he said: 
 
 "Thou hast neither consolation nor forgetfulness for me 
 t. . . " 
 
 For a moment it required all Krysia's self-control to pre- 
 vent her from casting her arms about his neck and crying, 
 "I love thee more than anything on earth, take me!" She 
 felt that if she once began to weep she must do so, and so 
 for some moments she stood before him without saying a 
 word and struggling with her tears. At length she conquered 
 them and began to speak calmly though rapidly, her breath 
 coming quickly: 
 
 "Perhaps it may be some relief for you to hear that I shall 
 
 (no) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I2l 
 
 never belong to anyone. . . . I am going behind the grille. 
 . . . Never judge harshly of me, for I am wretched enough 
 as it is. Promise me, Sir, that you will never speak of your 
 love for me to anybody . . . that you will never acknowl- 
 edge it ... that neither to friend nor relative you will 
 ever reveal what has occurred. This is my last prayer. The 
 day will come when you will know why I ask this and then 
 you will understand. I will say no more now, for my grief 
 is so great that it is impossible . . . promise me, it will 
 comfort me; if you refuse, it may kill me." 
 
 "I promise, I give you my word," Ketling replied. 
 
 "God reward you, and I thank you from the bottom of 
 my heart! Moreover, exhibit a tranquil countenance in the 
 presence of others, so that nobody may have any suspicions. 
 It is time for me to go. I canont find words to express my 
 sense of your kindness. Henceforward we shall not see each 
 other alone, but only before people. Say also that you are 
 not angry with me, for it is bad enough to suffer without 
 that in addition. You resign me to God and to no one else; 
 remember that." 
 
 Ketling wanted to make some reply; but his grief was so 
 extreme that only inarticulate sounds were Jieard; then he 
 laid his hand on K^sia's brow and held it there for a mo- 
 ment in sign of pardon and blessing. 
 
 Then they separated; she entered the church and he went 
 down the street so as to avoid any acquaintance at the inn. 
 
 Krysia did not return till afternoon and on her arrival she 
 found a distinguished guest, Prince-bishop Olshovski, the 
 Vice-Chancellor. He was paying an unexpected visit to Pan 
 Zagloba, being desirous, as he explained, of making the ac- 
 quaintance of such a famous noble, "whose military greatness 
 was an example and whose wisdom was the guide of the 
 knights of the entire Commonwealth." 
 
 Zagloba was in reality greatly surprised, but none the loss 
 gratified, at having such a great honor done him in the pre- 
 sence of the ladies; he assumed an air of great importance 
 and puffed and perspired, at the same time trying to show 
 Pani Makovyetska that he was quite accustomed to similar 
 visits from the highest dignitaries of the land and held them 
 very cheap. Krysia was presented to the prelate and after 
 respectfully kissing his hand took a seat beside Basia, re- 
 lieved to find that nobody noticed the marks of recent emo- 
 tion on her face. 
 
122 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 Meanwhile the Vice-Chaneellor loaded Zagloba with such 
 facile and bountiful eulogies that he seemed to be constantly 
 drawing fresh supplies of them from his sleeves of violet em- 
 broidered with lace. 
 
 "Do not think, your lordship," he said, "that it was mere 
 curiosity that brought me here to make the acquaintance of 
 the first man among the knights; for though admiration is 
 the just due of heroes, yet their own profit also leads men 
 to make pilgrimages to the spot where wisdom and experience 
 dwell together with might." 
 
 "Experience," Zagloba modestly replied, "in the art of 
 war above all, can only come with years; and it was per- 
 haps on that account that my advice was frequently sought 
 by the late Pan Konyespolski, father of the banneret, and 
 subsequently also Pan Nikolai Pototski, Prince Yeremy 
 Vishnyovyetski, Pan Sapyeha, and Pan Charnyetski; but I 
 have always protested against the title 'Ulysses' for modesty's 
 sake." 
 
 "It is however so inseparably connected with your lord- 
 ship that men seldom speak your real name but say 'Our 
 Ulysses' and everybody immediately knows to whom the 
 speaker refers. Therefore in these fateful and eventful days, 
 when more than one man is bewildered in his mind and 
 knows not whither to turn or whom to support, I said to 
 myself, 'I will go and listen to solid convictions and have 
 my doubts resolved and my mind illumined with sound ad- 
 vice/ Your lordship will understand that I desire to speak 
 of the approaching election, in anticipation of which every 
 criticism of the various candidates may be of some benefit, 
 and how much more when it proceeds from the lips of your 
 lordship! I have heard it repeated with acclamation among 
 the knighthood that you are opposed to those foreigners who 
 are attempting to force themselves on our exalted throne. 
 In the veins of the Vasas as you rightly sated Yagellon 
 blood flowed, so that they could not be regarded as for- 
 eigners; but, as you insisted neither are they familiar 
 with our ancient Polish customs, nor will they respect our 
 liberties, and therefore absolute rule might easity result. I 
 confess to your lordship that these are weighty words; but 
 pardon my inquiring if your lordship really uttered them, 
 or is it merely public rumor, which, in this instance as ever, 
 attributed every important speech to your lordship first of 
 all?" 
 
PAX MWBAEL 
 
 123 
 
 "These ladies are witnesses/' answered Zagloba; "and 
 though this matter is too high for their judgment, let them 
 speak for me, since the inscrutable decrees of Providence 
 have endowed them with the power of speech equally with 
 ourselves/' 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor turned to Panna Makovyetska and 
 the two young ladies in turn who were nestling together. 
 
 A moment's silence followed. 
 
 Suddenly Basia's silvery tones were heard: 
 
 "I heard nothing at all." 
 
 Then she became greatly confused and blushed up to her 
 ears, more especially as Zagloba imemdiately said: 
 
 "Pardon her, Your Highness. She is young and conse- 
 quently giddy. But with regard to the candidates, I have 
 more than once declared that our Polish liberties will have 
 cause to weep on account of these foreigners." 
 
 "I also fear it," said the Vice-Chancellor; %ut even if we 
 desired some Pole, blood of our blood and bone of our bone, 
 in what direction could our hearts turn? Your lordship's 
 idea of a Pole is great and is running through the land like 
 a flame; for I hear that in every diet which is not in the 
 bonds of corruption the sole cry to be heard is 'A Pole, a 
 Pole!" ' 
 
 "Quite right, quite right!' exclaimed Zagloba. 
 
 "Still," proceeded the Vice-Chancellor, "it is easier to 
 shout for a Pole than to find a suitable person; and therefore 
 let not your lordship be surprised at my asking who was in 
 your lordship's mind." 
 
 "Who was in my mind?" repeated Zagloba somewhat 
 puzzled. 
 
 And, pursing his lips, he frowned. It was hard for him 
 to answer on the spur of the moment, for so far not only had 
 he no one in particular in his mind, but the Vice-Chancellor 
 was crediting him with opinions to which he had not the 
 least claim. Moreover he was quite aware of this and saw 
 that the Vice-Chancellor was endeavoring to incline him to 
 some particular side, for which he was quite willing, as it 
 greatly flattered his pride. 
 
 "It was only in principle that I insisted that we ought to 
 have a Pole," he answered at last. "But the fact is I have 
 not mentioned any name till now." 
 
 "I have heard of the ambitious plans of Prince Boguslav 
 Radzivill" murmured the Vice-Chancellor as if to himself. 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "While there is any breath left in my nostrils, or the last 
 drop of blood in my body," cried Zagloba with fierce con- 
 viction, "nothing can come of that! I should hate to live 
 with a people so vile as to give to a traitor, a Judas, dominion 
 as his recompense." 
 
 "There speaks not only reason, but civic virtue also/' again 
 murmured the Vice-Chancellor. 
 
 "Aha!" mused Zagloba, "if you are trying to draw me I will 
 draw you." 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor then resumed: "0 dismantled ship 
 of my country, when wilt thou reach a haven? What tern- 
 pests, what rocks await thee? Evil indeed will it be if a 
 foreigner takes the tiller, but that is certain to happen unless 
 a better be found among thine own sons." 
 
 Here he extended his white hands loaded with sparkling 
 rings, bowed his head, and said resignedly: 
 
 "Therefore Conde, or Lorraine, or the Prince of Neuberg! 
 . . . There is no other issue!" 
 
 "Impossible! A Pole!" answered Zagloba. 
 
 "But who?" asked the other. 
 
 Silence followed. Then the Vice-Chancellor again began 
 to speak: "If only there were one on whom all could 
 agree! Where can we find one who would immediately arouse 
 the enthusiasm of the knighthood so that there would be 
 none to oppose his election! There was such a man, the 
 greatest of all, of the most illustrious services, your own 
 glorious friend, knight, who walked in glory as in sun- 
 light. . . There was such. . . . 
 
 "Prince Yeremy Vishnyovyetski!" interrupted Zagloba. 
 
 "Exactly. But he is in the grave. . . . fi 
 
 "His son lives/' answered Zagloba. 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor half closed his. eyes and for some 
 moments sat silent; suddenly he raised his head and, gazing 
 at Zagloba, began to say slowly: "I thank the Lord for having 
 inspired me with the idea of seeking your lordship. That is 
 it! the son of the ilustrious Yeremy lives, -a prince young 
 and full of promise, to whom the Commonwealth has a debt 
 to pay. Of his immense fortune nothing is left but glory, 
 that is his only patrimony. Therefore in these days of cor- 
 ruption when the eyes of every man are turned only to 
 gold, who will speak his name, who* will be brave enough 
 to propose him as a candidate? You? True! But will many 
 follow yonr lead? It is not surprising that he who has spent 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 125 
 
 his life in heroic fight on every field will bravely honor merit 
 with his vote on the election field . . . but will others 
 follow his example?" 
 
 Here the Vice-chancellor sank into momentary meditation 
 and then raised his eyes and continued: 
 
 "God is more powerful than all. Who can tell his decrees, 
 who? When I remember how all the knighthood believe and 
 trust in you, my heart is filled with a marvellous hope. Tell 
 me frankly, have you ever regarded anything as impossible?" 
 
 "Never!" cried Zagloba with confidence. 
 
 "However, it would not be well to put forward that candi- 
 dature too prominently at first. Let the name be in people's 
 ears, but not so as to sound too dangerous to opponents; let 
 them rather mock and jeer at it, so that they may not place 
 too great obstacles in the path. . . . Perhaps also, God 
 may grant success when the exertions of the various factions 
 have resulted in their mutual destruction. Let your lord- 
 ship gradually smooth the way for it and continue in your 
 efforts, for this is your candidate, worthy of such wisdom 
 and experience as yours. God prosper your designs." 
 
 "Am I to conclude" inquired Zagloba, "that Your High- 
 ness has also been thinking of Prince Michael?" 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor took from his pocket, a little book 
 with the title "Censura Candidatorum" in large black letters, 
 and said, 
 
 "Read, your lordship, let this letter be my answer." 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor then began to depart, but Zagloba 
 detained him, saying, "Allow me, Your Highness, to say 
 something more. In the first place, I thank God that the 
 minor seal is in hands that can knead men like wax." 
 
 "How so?" asked the Vice-Chancellor in surprise. 
 
 "In the second place I will acknowledge in advance to 
 Your Highness that the candidacy of Prince Michael is greatly 
 to my liking, for I knew his father well, and loved and fought 
 under him with my friends; who also will be greatly pleased 
 with the thought of showing the son, the love they bore to 
 the father. Therefore, I heartily embrace this candidature 
 and this very day will speak with the Vice-Chamberlain, Pan 
 Kshytski, a man of high rank and a friend of mine, who 
 has great weight with the nobles, for it is difficult not to love 
 him. We will both do all that we can; and God grant that 
 we shall be able to effect something." 
 
 "May the angels watch over you," said the Vice-Chancellor; 
 "If you manage that, we can expect nothing more." 
 
126 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "With Your Highness's permission, I will say one thing 
 more, namely, that Your Highness should not think thus: 
 'I have put my own desires into his mind; I have succeeded 
 in making him imagine that the candidature of Prince 
 Michael was his own initiative. In a word, I have moulded 
 the blockhead like wax/ Your Highness I will forward the 
 cause of Prince Michael, because I desire it. What then? 
 Because I see it is also Your Highness's desire. I will for- 
 ward it for the sake of the Dowager Princess, his mother, 
 for the sake of my own friend. I will forward it on acount 
 of my confidence in the head (here Zagloha bowed) from 
 which this Minerva sprang forth, but not because I allowed 
 myself to be persuaded like a child that the initiative is my 
 own; and lastly not because I am an idiot, but because when 
 a wise man says a wise thing to me, I say, precisely." 
 
 Here the old noble bowed again. At first the Vice-Chan- 
 cellor was considerably discomposed, but seeing the good 
 humor of the old noble and recognizing that the affair was 
 taking the turn he wanted, he laughed heartily, and putting 
 his hands up to his head he cried: 
 
 "Ulysses, as I love God, a regular Ulysses! Brother the 
 man who wants to do a good thing must deal differently 
 with different men, but I see that with you it is necessary 
 to go straight to the point. I am delighted with you." 
 
 "As I am with Prince Michael." 
 
 "God give you good health! Aha! I am vanquished, but 
 I am glad of it. You must have eaten many a starling in 
 your youth. . . . And this signet ring if it will serve 
 as a memento of our conversation 
 
 "Let that remain where it is," said Zagloba. 
 
 "You will do this for me? 
 
 "By no means. . . . Another time perhaps .. . later 
 . . . After the election. ... 
 
 The Vice-Chancellor comprehended, and insisted no fur- 
 ther; he departed however with a radiant countenance. 
 
 Zagloba accompanied him to the gate and muttered as he 
 re-entered: 
 
 "Aha! I taught him a lesson. One rogue met another. 
 But it no great honor. Important people will fall over each 
 other in their haste to enter these doors. I am anxious to 
 know what the ladies think of this." 
 
 The ladies were in fact enchanted, and Zagloba rose enor- 
 mously, particularly in the eyes of Pan Michael's sister, so 
 that he had scarcely appeared when she rapturously cried: 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I2 *j 
 
 "You have surpassed Solomon himself in wisdom." 
 
 Zagloba was highly gratified. 
 
 "Whom have I surpassed, did you say? Wait until you see 
 Hetmen, bishops, and senators here, I shall have to keep out 
 of their way, or hide behind the curtain." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance 
 of Ketling. 
 
 "Ketling, are you anxious for advancement?" cried Za- 
 globa, still enchanted with his own importance. 
 
 "No," replied the fcnight sadly, "for I must again leave 
 you, and for a long time." 
 
 Zagloba gazed at him with a scrutinizing glance. 
 
 "How is it that you are so pulled down?" 
 
 "Simply because I have to go away." 
 
 "Where to?" 
 
 "I have received despatches from Scotland, from old 
 friends of my father and myself. I am absolutely needed 
 there on business affairs, perhaps for a long time. . . . 
 It grieves me to part with you all, but I must go!" 
 
 Zagloba advanced to the middle of the room, gating first 
 at Pan Michael's sister and then at the others and asked: 
 
 "Did you hear? In the name of the Father, Son, and 
 Holy Ghost, Amen." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 While Zagloba was astonished to learn of Ketling's in- 
 tended departure, his suspicions were not aroused; it would 
 be natural enough for Charles II to remember the service 
 which the Ketling family had given to the throne in troublous 
 times, and to wish to show some gratitude to their only de- 
 scendant. Indeed it would be strange if he were indifferent. 
 Moreover, Zagloba had been thoroughly convinced of this by 
 some letters from over the sea, which Ketling had shown him. 
 
 In some respects the old noble's plans were jeopardized by 
 this journey, and he was very much alarmed about the future. 
 From what he said in his letter Pan Michael might return at 
 any moment. 
 
 "The winds of the steppes have blown away the last remains 
 of his grief," Zagloba said to himself. "He will return more 
 resolved than when he left, and because the deuce is attract- 
 ing him more forcibly than ever to Krysia, he will be sure 
 to propose to her at once. And then! then Krysia will con- 
 sent, for how could she refuse such a cavalier, and who is, 
 moreover, Pani Makovyetska's brother? And now my dear- 
 est little haiduk will be left out in the cold." 
 
 With the obstinacy usual to old people, Zagloba had deter- 
 mined to unite Basia to the little knight at all costs. 
 
 Neither the persuasions of Pan Yan, nor those which he 
 occasionally tried upon himself were of any avail. Sometimes 
 he would vow never to interfere again; but, involuntarily, his 
 thoughts would return with more insistence than ever to the 
 union of this couple. For whole days he pondered upon 
 means of accomplishing it; he schemed; he invented strata- 
 gems. And he became so absorbed in the idea, that when he 
 fancied he saw the means, he would suddenly exclaim as 
 though everything were settled: 
 
 "May God bless you!" 
 
 But now Zagloba thought his hopes were shattered. There 
 was nothing to do but give up his purpose and leave the future 
 to God; for the glimmer of hope, that, before goingj, Ketling 
 
 (!28) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 I2 9 
 
 might take some decided measure with regard to Krysia, soon 
 faded away. Therefore, it was only in sadness and curiosity 
 that he decided to ask the young knight when he intended 
 to take his departure from the Commonwealth, and what he 
 was going to do before leaving. 
 
 Having opened the conversation with Ketling, Zagloba 
 said, with a grieved expression: 
 
 "An awkward position! Each man knows his own business 
 best, and I will not beg you to stay here; but, at least, I may 
 ask something about your r.eturn?" . . . 
 
 "How do I know what awaits me in the country to which 
 I am going?" answered Ketling, "what transactions, and 
 what adventures. ... I will return some day, if I can. I 
 will remain there permanently, if I must." 
 
 "You will discover that your heart will bring you back to 
 us." 
 
 "God grant that my grave will be in no other land but this 
 one, which had given me all that there is to give." 
 
 "Ah, you understand! In all other countries a foreigner 
 is only a step-son, but our mother-country opens her arms to 
 you and cherishes you as if you were her own." 
 
 "True, perfectly true! Ah! if I only could . . . In the 
 old country everything else may come to me, but happiness, 
 never." 
 
 "Ah! I told you, 'Get married; settle down.' You would 
 not listen to me. Now if you were married, even if you did 
 go away, you would be obliged to return, unless you took your 
 wife with you through the raging waves; and 1 do not suppose 
 you would do that. I gave you my advice, but vou wouldn't 
 take it." 
 
 Here Zagloba looked searchingly into Ketling's face, as if 
 to draw forth some explanation, but Ketling was silent; he 
 only lowered his head and looked down with a fixed glance. 
 
 "What do you say to that?" asked Zagloba, presently. 
 
 "T had no opportunity to follow it," replied the young 
 knipfht, deliberately. 
 
 Zagloba walked up and down the room, and stopping in 
 front of Ketling, clasped his hands behind his back, and said: 
 
 ""But I say you had. If you had not, may I never again 
 gird myself with this belt! Krysia is attached to you!" 
 
 "God grant she remains so! though the sea rolls between 
 us." 
 
 "Wriat do you mean by that?" 
 9 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "Oh, nothing, nothing!" 
 
 "Have you spoken to her?" 
 
 "Give me peace. I am even now terribly sad because I am 
 obliged to go." 
 
 "Ketling, would you like me to question her while there is 
 still time?" 
 
 Ketling began to think that if Krysia was so anxious to 
 keep their love secret, she might possibly be glad to have an 
 opportunity of disavowing it openly, and he therefore replied: 
 
 "I assure you that it would be useless; and I am quite posi- 
 tive that I have got over my own feeling; but if you would 
 like a miracle, then ask her." 
 
 "Oh, if you have driven her out of "your mind," said Zag- 
 loba, somewhat bitterly, "in that case there is nothing more 
 to be said. Only, allow me to tell you that I looked on you 
 as a man of the greatest constancy." 
 
 Ketling rose and extended his arms excitedly, saying, with 
 a vehemence quite foreign to him: 
 
 "What would it avail for me to wish for one of those stars? 
 I cannot fly up and get it and it cannot drop down to me. 
 Alas, for those who sigh for the silver moon!" 
 
 Zagloba grew so angry that he began to snort. For a mo- 
 ment he could not speak, and it was only after he had swal- 
 lowed a little of his anger that he exclaimed in a broken voice: 
 
 "My dear Ketling, don't consider me a fool; if you have 
 your reasons, tell them to me, not as to a madman, but as to 
 a man who lives on bread and meat. Suppose I invent a story 
 and tell you that this cap of mine is the moon, and that as I 
 cannot reach it with my hand, I must go about the city with 
 my bald head bare, letting the frost nip my ears like a dog. 
 I will not contend with such reasoning. But this I do know: 
 the maiden lives three rooms away from here; she eats and 
 she drinks; when she walks, she moves on, her nose turns red 
 in the cold, and she becomes warm in the heat; if a mosquito 
 bites her, she feels it; and, with regard to the moon, she may 
 resemble it in the fact that neither has a beard. But, ac- 
 cording to your peculiar reasoning, a turnip is an astrologer. 
 As for Krysia, if you have not tried to get her, if you have 
 not spoken to her, it is your own fault; but, if you have ceased 
 to love the girl and are going away calling her the 'moon/ 
 then I hope your honesty and wit may cherish any weed you 
 happen to find, and that is all I have to say." 
 
 Ketling^s reply to this was: 
 
PAN MICHAEL. l ^i 
 
 "The food you arc giving me is very bitter, and not at all 
 sweet. I go because 1 must; 1 do not speak to her, because 
 I have nothing to say to her. You misjudge me cruelly . . . 
 God knows how unjustly!" 
 
 "Of course, Ketling, I know that you are an honorable man; 
 but I cannot understand your ways. When I was young, a 
 man would go to a maiden, and, gazing into her eyes, would 
 repeat this rhyme: 
 
 'If you love me, together we will live; 
 If not, for you, no stiver will I give.' 
 
 Each one knew what was required of him; and whoever was 
 diffident a.nd not bold of address sent a man of more assur- 
 ance to speak for him. I offered you my services and I still 
 offer them. I will go to her for you; I will speak for you; I 
 will bring you her answer, and your going, or staying, will 
 depend upon what she says." 
 
 "I must go! It must and will be so!" 
 
 "But you will return." 
 
 "No! Please have the kindness to say nothing more about 
 this. ... If you want to question her for your own satis- 
 faction, all well and good, but not in my name." 
 
 "For GocPs sake! Have you already spoken to her?" 
 
 "Let us talk no more of this. Do me the favor." 
 
 "Very well, then let us discuss the weather. . . May a 
 thunderbolt strike you and your ways! So then, you must 
 go and I must swear." 
 
 "I bid you farewell." 
 
 "Stay, stay! My anger will leave me in a moment. Wait, 
 Ketling, I have something io say to you. When are you 
 going?" 
 
 "Just as soon as I can arrange my affairs. I should like 
 to stay in Courland until the quarter's rent; and if any one 
 will buy it, I will willing sell the house in which we have 
 all been living." 
 
 "Let Makovyetska or Michael buy it. In God's name, I 
 hope you are not going away without seeing Michael." 
 
 "I should be glad to bid him adieu, from the bottom of my 
 heart." 
 
 "He may come at any moment. He may influence you to- 
 ward Krysia." 
 
 Zagloba paused suddenly, for a certain fear came into his 
 mind. 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "I have been serving Michael with good intentions/' he 
 said to himself, "but horribly against his will, if trouble is to 
 come between him and Ketling, I had better let Ketling go." 
 Here Zagloba rubbed his hand over his bald head; then he 
 continued aloud: 
 
 "All that I have said was in pure good will. I am so much 
 in love with you that I would like to keep you here at all 
 hazards, and that is the reason I have tempted you with 
 Krysia, as if she were a bit of bacon. But that was only out 
 of good will. . . . What does it matter to an old man like 
 me? . . . Indeed, it was only out of good will . . . 
 nothing more. I am not a match-maker; if I were, I should 
 have made a match for myself. Kiss me, Ketling, and don't 
 get angry." 
 
 Ketling embraced Zagloba, who had become very affection- 
 ate. The latter ordered a flask of wine, saying: 
 
 "We will drink every day to your journey." 
 
 Then they drank. After a time, Ketling bade him good- 
 bye, and took his leave. The wine had stimulated Zagloba's 
 fancy; he began to think about Basia, Krysia, Pan Michael, 
 and Ketling; in fancy he married them and blessed them; 
 and finally he wanted to be with the young ladies so much 
 that he exclaimed: 
 
 "Well, I will go and see those kids." . . . 
 
 The young ladies were sitting in the room across the hall, 
 sewing. After greeting them, Zagloba walked up and down 
 the room dragging one foot after the other somewhat heavily, 
 for wine always made him a little unsteady. Every now and 
 then he glanced at the girls' who were sitting so close to 
 each other that Basia's bright head almost touched Krysia's 
 dark one. Basia's eyes followed him, but Krysia, was sewing 
 so industriously that it was almost impossible to follow her 
 flashing needle. 
 
 "H'm!" ejaculated Zagloba. 
 
 "H'm!" Basia echoed. 
 
 "Don't mock me; for I am very angry." 
 
 "Oh dear, he'll certainly cut 'off my head," cried Basia, 
 pretending to be frightened. 
 
 "Knock! Knock! I'll cut off your tongue, that's what 
 I'll do!" 
 
 So saying, Zagloba approached the young ladies, and, pla- 
 cing his hands upon his hips, demanded suddenly: 
 
 "Do you want Ketliug for your husband?" 
 
PAN MJC1IAEL. j 33 
 
 !8, five like him," replied Basia, quickly. 
 
 "lie quiet, midge, I'm not speaking to you. I am talking 
 to you, Krysia. Do you want Ketling for your husband?" 
 
 Krysia had become somewhat pale, though at first she 
 thought that Zagloba was not addressing her, but Basia; 
 then she raised her beautiful dark blue eyes to the old Noble's 
 face. 
 
 "No," she calmly answered. 
 
 "Well, no! pray no! short, at least, pray! pray! And why 
 does not your ladyship want him?" 
 
 "I don't want anybody." 
 
 "Krysia, dear, tell some one else that," cried Basia. 
 
 "What has brought the married state into such disfavor 
 with you?" Zagloba questioned further. 
 
 "Not dfsfavor; I have a vocation for the religious life," 
 Krysia replied. 
 
 Her voice was so full of sadness and seriousness, that 
 Basia and Zagloba did not for a moment imagine that she 
 was jesting; but they were both so amazed that they gazed 
 at each other, and Krysia. 
 
 "Eh?" Zagloba was the first to exclaim. 
 
 "I want to take the veil," repeated Krysia gently. 
 
 Basia looked at her once and again, then she only threw 
 her arms around her neck, pressed her rosy lips to her cheeks, 
 and exclaimed, "Krysia! I shall weep. Tell me quickly that 
 your words are only empty air; I shall weep, as there is a 
 God in Heaven, I shall." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 After leaving Zagloba, Ketling went to Pan Michael's sister 
 and informed her that he must stay in the city on account of 
 important business, and perhaps also before finally departing, 
 he would go to Couiiand for some weeks, and therefore he 
 would be unable to play the host in person any longer in his 
 suburban home. But he begged her to regard that home as 
 her own still and to occupy it with her husband and Pan 
 Michael during the approaching election. 
 
 Pani Makovyetska accepted, for otherwise the house would 
 be empty and of no use to any one. 
 
 After this conversation, Ketling disappeared, and was not 
 to be seen any more either at the inn or anywhere about 
 Mokotov, when Pani Makovyetska and the young ladies re- 
 turned to the suburbs. Krysia alone felt his absence, Zagloba 
 was absorbed with the approaching election, while Basia 
 and Pan Michael's sister had taken Krysia's sudden resolve 
 so much to heart, that they could think of nothing else. 
 
 Nevertheless, Pani Makovyetska did not even attempt to 
 dissuade Krysia from the step and doubted whether her hus- 
 band would oppose it, for at that period, people regarded op- 
 position to such a determination in the light of an injury 
 and offence against the Almighty. Only Zagloba, notwith- 
 standing his piety, would have ventured to protest had it been 
 his affair, but as it was not, he sat quietly by, and was secretly 
 satisfied that matters had so arranged themselves to remove 
 Krysia from the path of Pan Michael, and the little haiduk. 
 Zagloba was now assured of the eventful fulfillment of Jiis 
 secret wishes, and was free to devote himself entirely to the 
 affairs of the election; he visited the Nobles who had arrived 
 at the capital, or held long conversations with the Vice- 
 chancellor, whom he came to like very much, and became his 
 confidant. 
 
 After every additional conversation, he returned home more 
 zealously devoted to the Pole, and more hostile than ever to 
 foreigners. In accordance with the advice of the Vice-Chan- 
 
 (134) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ! 35 
 
 cellor, he had so far concealed this aversion, that not a day 
 passed without his winning over another supporter for the 
 secret candidate, and what often happens in such cases, hap- 
 pened here also. He became so interested that this candi- 
 dature became the greatest object of his life after the union 
 of Basia and Pan Michael. 
 
 Meanwhile the election was rapidly approaching. 
 
 Spring had already freed the rivers from ice; the breezes 
 had begun to blow soft and warm; under their breath the 
 trees were covered with buds, and flocks of swallows were 
 forming a chain with their wings to dart at any moment, ac- 
 cording to Folklore, from the cold depths of the ocean into 
 the sunny world. People were beginning to arrive for the 
 election, in company with the swallows and other birds of 
 passage. 
 
 First came the merchants, who had prospects of a rich har- 
 vest of gain in a spot where more than half a million people 
 were about to congregate, including dignitaries with their 
 retinues, nobles, servants, and military. English, Dutch, Ger- 
 mans, Russians, in addition to Tartars, Turks, Armenians, 
 and even Persians, also came, bringing cloth, linen, damask, 
 brocades, furs, jewels, perfumes and sweet meats. Tents arose 
 in the streets and beyond the city, containing every kind of 
 merchandise. Some bazaars were even erected in the suburbs; 
 for it was well known that the inns of the capital could not 
 accommodate one-tenth of the attendants at the election, and 
 that an enormous overplus would encamp beyond the walls, 
 as always happened during the election. 
 
 Lastly so many nobles began to arrive that if they had pro- 
 ceeded in such numbers to the border of the Commonwealth 
 no enemy would ever have been able to put his foot across it. 
 
 It was rumored that the election would be a stormy one, 
 for the whole country was split up between three principal 
 candidates Conde, and the Princes of Neuberg, and Lor- 
 raine. It was said that each faction would use every endeavor 
 to elect its own candidate even by force if necessary. 
 
 Everybody became alarmed; factional bitterness inflamed 
 every heart; civil war was prophesied by some, and these 
 forebodings met with credence, on account of the tremendous 
 following with which the great men had surrounded them- 
 selves. These arrived early, so as to allow themselves time for 
 all kinds of machinations. At the times when the Common- 
 wealth was in danger, when the foe was holding a knife to 
 
! 3 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 its throat, neither king nor Hetman could bring more than 
 a miserly handful of men against him; but now, notwith- 
 standing the laws and decrees, the Radzivills alone came with 
 a following of more than twenty thousand troops. The Patsovs 
 had almost as many; the powerful Pototskis were corning 
 with an equal force; other princelings of Poland, Lithuania, 
 and Eussia were coming with scarcely inferior forces. 
 
 "When wilt thou find a haven, dismantled ship of my 
 county?" frequently exclaimed the Vice-Chancellor, Olshov- 
 ski; but his heart also -harbored selfish aims. The aristocracy, 
 corrupt to tne marrow of their bones, with very few excep- 
 tions, had only thought for themselves and for the power of 
 their own houses, and were willing to rouse the whirlwind of 
 civil war at any moment. 
 
 The crowd of nobles daily increased; and it was manifest 
 that when the Diet should be over and the election commence, 
 they would outnumber even the greatest force of the digni- 
 taries. But their numbers were unable to bring the ship of 
 the commonwealth successfully into quiet waters, for their 
 minds were steeped in darkness and ignorance and, for the 
 most part, their hearts were corrupt. 
 
 The election therefore, gave every sign of being exciting, 
 no one imagined that it would end tamely, for with the 
 exception of Zagloba, even those who were working for the 
 Pole, had no idea to what a 'tremendous extent they would 
 be aided by the stupidity of the nobles, and the intrigues of 
 the dignitaries; very few had any hope of electing such a can- 
 didate as Prince Michael. But Zagloba was as much at home 
 in that sea as a fish in the water. From the opening of the 
 Diet, he made his home in the city, and was only at Ketling's 
 house when he longed for his little haiduk; but as Basia's 
 joyousness had been dashed by Krysia's resolution, Zagloba 
 occasionally took her with him to the city, so that she might 
 amuse herself and get some pleasure out of looking at the 
 shops. 
 
 Usually, they started in the morning, and it would be 
 frequently late in the evening when Zagloba brought her 
 back. Along the road, and in the city itself, her heart was 
 rejoiced at the sight of the merchandise, the unaccustomed 
 people, the variegated crowds, and the gorgeous soldiery. At 
 such times, her eyes would glow like live coals, and her head 
 turned as if on a swivel; she could not get enough of gazing 
 at it all, and deluged the old man with questions. He was 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 137 
 
 glad enough to satisfy her, for by that means, he exhibited 
 his knowledge and experience. More than once a gallant com- 
 pany of soldiers surrounded the little carriage in which they 
 were driving; the cavaliers greatly admired Basia' s ready wit 
 and determination., and Zagloba never failed to tell them the 
 story of the Tartar she had killed with duck shot, greatly to 
 their surprise and entertainment. 
 
 One day they were coming home very late, for they had 
 spent the whole day at the review of the troops of Pan Felix 
 Pototski. It was a bright and warm night and the fields 
 were shrouded in white mist. 'Zagloba, though always watch- 
 ful, since in such a gathering of servants and soldiers, high- 
 waymen had to be guarded against, had fallen sound asleep, 
 and the driver was half asleep also; Basia alone was wide 
 awake, for many things were revolving in her brain. 
 
 Suddenly she heard the tramp of horses. Plucking Zag- 
 loba's sleeve, she said: 
 
 "Some mounted men are overtaking us." 
 
 "What, how, who?" cried the sleepy Zagloba. 
 
 "Some mounted men are coming." 
 
 "Oh, they will soon catch us up." 
 
 "I can hear the tramp of horses; perhaps it is some one 
 going in the same direction as we are." 
 
 "I am sure they are robbers." 
 
 The reason Basia was sure, was that she was longing for 
 an adventure of some kind, outlaws, and the chance to show 
 her courage so that when Zagloba, muttering to himself, 
 began to reach for his pistols from the seat, which he always 
 carried with him for an emergency, she asked for one too. 
 
 "If a robber approaches, I wont miss him. Auntie is a 
 splendid shot with a musket, but she can't see at night time. 
 I could swear that these are robbers, oh, if they would only 
 attack us! Be quick and give me a pistol." 
 
 "Very well!" replied Zagloba, "but you must promise not 
 to fire before I do, or till I tell you. If I give you a pistol, you 
 will be likely to shoot the first noble you see without first 
 asking "Who goes there?" and then you will get into trouble 
 with the law." 
 
 "I will first ask who is there." 
 
 "But if some half-drunken fellows should be passing, and 
 make rude remarks on hearing a woman's voice?" 
 
 "I will let fly with my pistol. Isn't that right?" 
 
 "Think of taking such a fireeater to the city! I tell you,, 
 are not to shoot without orders." 
 
138 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "I will ask 'who goes there? 7 in such a rough voice that 
 they won't recognize a woman." 
 
 "All right then. Ha, I hear them already approaching. 
 You may make up your mind that they are honest people, 
 otherwise, they would attack us stealthily from the ditch." 
 
 However, since the roads really were infested with outlaws 
 and unpleasant experiences were not rare, Zagloba ordered 
 the driver to keep away from the dark trees at the turn of the 
 road, and halt in a place where it was light. 
 
 In the meantime, four horsemen had come quite close. 
 Then Basia cried menacingly in a deep voice, that she 
 thought would have done honor to a dragoon: 
 
 "Who goes there?" 
 
 "Why have you come to a standstill?" asked one of the 
 horsemen, who evidently thought that some accident must 
 have happened to the carriage or harness. 
 
 On hearing the voice, Basia dropped her pistol and said 
 hurriedly to Zagloba, "For Heaven's sake! that must be 
 uncle." 
 
 "What uncle?" 
 
 "Makovyetska!" 
 
 "Hallo there!" cried Zagloba. "Isn't that Pan Makhovy- 
 etska and Pan Volodiyovski?" 
 
 "Pan Zagloba!" cried the little knight. 
 
 "Michael!" 
 
 Here Zagloba hurriedly began to alight, but before he 
 could put one foot to the ground, Pan Michael had jumped 
 from his horse and reached the side of the carriage. Recog- 
 nizing Basia in the moonlight, he grasped her by both 
 hands and cried: 
 
 "I greet you with all my heart. And where is Panna Kry- 
 sia, and sister. Are they all well?" 
 
 "Quite well, thank God." So you have arrived at last, said 
 Basia, with 'her heart beating violently. "Is uncle there 
 too? Our uncle?" 
 
 Then she threw her arms around the neck of Pan Makov- 
 yetska, who had reached the carriage, and Zagloba embraced 
 Pan Michael. After many words of greeting, Pan Makovyet- 
 ska was introduced to Zagloba, and the two travellers handed 
 the reins to their attendants and took their seats in the car- 
 riage. Makovyetska and Zagloba occupied the seat of honor 
 and Basia and Pan Michael sat facing them. 
 
 Then followed short questions and answers, as is usually 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I39 
 
 the case when people meet after having been long apart. Pan 
 Makovyetska asked after his wife. 
 
 Pan Michael repeated his inquiries about Panna Krysia's 
 health; next he expressed his surprise at Ketling's approach- 
 ing departure, but he was not allowed to dwell on it long, for 
 he was deluged at once with questions as to his doings in the 
 border Stanitsa; his attacks on the raiders from the Horde, 
 his home-sickness and his pleasure in returning to the old life. 
 
 "It seemed as if the Lubni times had come again," said the 
 little knight, "and that we were still with Pan Yan and 
 Kushel and Vyershul; it was only when they brought me a 
 pail of water to wash with and I saw my gray head reflected 
 in it, that I remembered that times had changed, though I 
 said to myself, that as long as the spirit was the same, the 
 man had not changed." 
 
 "You have hit on the sensible way of looking at it," cried 
 Zagloba. "It is evident that your wits have recuperated on 
 fresh grass, for lately you have not been so quick. The will 
 is the great thing and there is no better remedy for melan- 
 choly." 
 
 "Quite true, quite true," added Pan Makovyetska. There 
 is a legion of well-sweeps in Michael's Stanitsa, for there is a 
 dearth of spring water there. I tell you, sir, that when the 
 soldiers at dawn begin to work them, they make such a noise 
 that your lordship would wake up, and immediately give 
 thanks to God for the mere fact of being alive." 
 
 "Oh if I could only be there for one day," cried Basia. 
 
 "There is one way to get there," cried Zagloba, "marry the 
 captain of the company." 
 
 "Sooner or later Pan Adam will be a captain of horse, "sug- 
 gested the little knight. 
 
 "Indeed," cried Basia angrily, "I did not ask you to bring 
 me Pan Adam for a present." 
 
 "I brought you something else, some fine sweetmeats, they 
 will be sweet for Panna Basia, while out there, it is bitter for 
 that poor fellow. 
 
 "Then you ought to have given the sweets to him. Let him 
 eat them while his moustache is- growing." 
 
 "Just imagine," said Zagloba to Pan Makovyetska, "that's 
 the way those two always are. Happily, the proverb says, 
 'Those that quarrel, end with loving/ '' 
 
 Basia made no reply, but Pan Michael, as if awaiting an 
 answer, gazed upon her little face that was illumined by the 
 
1 40 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 bright moonlight. It looked to him so bewitching, that in 
 spite of himself he thought: 
 
 "That little rogue is pretty enough to blind a man." 
 
 But some other thought must immediately have occurred 
 to him, for he turned to the driver and cried: 
 
 "Whip up the horses, and drive faster?" 
 
 They progressed more quickly in consequence, and sat in 
 silence for some time, and only when they were driving more 
 quietly over the sand, was Pan Michael's voice again heard. 
 
 "How astonished I am at Ketling's departure! And to 
 think that it should happen before I returned, and before the 
 election !" 
 
 "The English care as much about our election as they do 
 about your return," replied Zagloba. "Ketling himself is 
 quite knocked over, because he has to go and leave us." 
 
 "Especially Krysia," was on the tip of Basia's tongue, but 
 something prompted her to say nothing about the matter, nor 
 about Krysia's recent determination. With a woman's in- 
 stinct she understood that both questions would be painful 
 to Pan Michael; she felt a sudden pang, so, notwithstanding 
 her usual impulsiveness, she held her tongue. He will know 
 of Krysia's resolution in any case, she thought, but it would 
 be better not to say a word about it now, since Pan Zagloba 
 has not alluded to the subject. 
 
 The little knight again turned to the driver. 
 
 "Drive faster." 
 
 "We left our horses and baggage at Praga," said Makovyet- 
 ska to Zagloba, "and hastened on with two attendants, al- 
 though it was evening, for Michael and I were in a hurry to 
 get here." 
 
 "I can believe it," answered Zagloba. "Do you see what 
 crowds have arrived at the capital? Beyond the gates the 
 camps and booths are so thick that it is difficult to get 
 through. There are all sorts of marvelous rumors about the 
 approaching election, which I will tell you at home at the 
 proper time." 
 
 Then they began to talk politics. Zagloba was maneuvering 
 to get an idea of Makovyetska's opinions: finally he turned to 
 Pan Michael and bluntly asked: 
 
 "Whom are you going to vote for, Michael?" 
 
 But instead of answering, Pan Michael started as if sud- 
 denly awakened, and said: 
 
 "I wonder if they are asleep, and whether we shall see them 
 to-night?' ? 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I4I 
 
 "They are certainly asleep," answered Basia, in tones that 
 Bounded gentle and sleepy, "but they will certainly wake and 
 come down to welcome you and ipicle." 
 
 ''Do you think so?" asked the little knight joyfully. 
 
 He looked at Basia again, and again the thought involun- 
 tarily arose: 
 
 "That little rogue looks bewitching in the moonlight." 
 
 They were now close to Ketling's, and soon arrived. 
 
 Pani Makovyetska and Krysia were asleep. A few of the 
 servants were still up with supper ready for Basia and Pan 
 Zagloba. The house was immediately in great commotion; 
 Zagloba gave orders to wake up more servants, to have a hot 
 meal prepared for the guests. 
 
 Pan Makovyetska wanted to go direct to his wife, but she 
 had heard the unusual noise and, guessing who had arrived, 
 hurried down in a few moments with something thrown over 
 her, with joyful tears in her eyes, and her face full of smiles; 
 then followed greetings, embraces, and broken talk. 
 
 Pan Michael kept his eyes on the door through which 
 Basia had disappeared, and at which at any moment he was 
 hoping to see Krysia, his beloved, beaming with joy, and 
 radiant, with sparkling eyes and hair hurriedly coiled up; how- 
 ever, the Dantzig clock in the dining-room ticked on and on, 
 and an hour passed; supper came in, without the appearance 
 of her who was so dear to Pan Michael. 
 
 Finally Basia entered alone, looking somewhat serious 
 and troubled; she went to the table, took a light, and turned 
 to Pan Makovyetska: 
 
 "Krysia is not very well, and won't come down; but she 
 begs uncle to come to her door, so that she may call out her 
 welcome to him." 
 
 Pan Makovyetska immediately arose and went out, followed 
 by Basia. 
 
 The little knight was greatly crestfallen and said: 
 
 "I surely thought I should have seen Panna Krysia to- 
 night. Is she really ill?" 
 
 "Oh, she's well enough," his sister replied, "but she doesn't 
 take any interest in people now." 
 
 "What do you say?" 
 
 "Then Pan Zagloba did not remember to tell you her reso- 
 lution?" 
 
 "What resolution? Good Heavens!" 
 
 "She is going to take the veil." 
 
142 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Michael's eyes began to blink in a dazed manner and a 
 great change came over his face; he sprang to his feet and 
 then sat down again. Great drops of sweat broke out on his 
 face and he wiped them away with his hand. A deep silence 
 fell on the room. 
 
 "Michael!* 5 cried his sister. But he gazed in a dazed man- 
 ner at her and Zagloba in turn, and at last cried out in a 
 dreadful voice: 
 
 "Is some curse hanging over me?" 
 
 "Put your trust in God," said Zagloba. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That exclamation revealed the little knight's secret to Zag- 
 loba and Pani Makovyetska, and when he suddenly jumped 
 up and went out of the room, they gazed at each other with a 
 troubled and vacant air till at length the lady cried: 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! go after him, reason with him, and 
 comfort him or perhaps I had better go myself." 
 
 "Don't do that, madam," said Zagloba. "He has no need 
 of any of us, but Krysia, and if he cannot see her, it is better 
 to leave him alone, for unless comfort is timely, it only leads 
 to greater despair." 
 
 It is as plain as day to me now, that he was in love with 
 Krysia. I knew that he was very fond of her, and sought her 
 society, but it never came into my head that he was so far 
 gone." 
 
 "He must have come back with the intention of proposing, 
 his happiness depending upon it, when he was struck, as it 
 were, by a thunderbolt." 
 
 "Why didn't he say a word about it to anyone, either me, 
 or you, or even Krysia herself. It might be that then she 
 would not have taken her resolution." 
 
 "It's very strange," said Zagloba, "besides, he usually con- 
 fides in me and relies on my judgment more than his own; 
 and here he has not only not confessed this attachment to me, 
 but once he even assured me that it was nothing but friend- 
 ship." 
 
 "He always was secretive." 
 
 "Then you don't know him, even if you are his sister. His 
 heart is on the surface, like the eyes of a flounder. I never 
 knew a franker man, but in this case, I admit that he has 
 acted differently. Are you sure that he hasn't said anything 
 to Krysia?" 
 
 "Almighty God! Krysia is her own mistress, for my hus- 
 band in the capacity of guardian has often said to her, "So 
 long as the man is worthy and of good birth, you need not 
 care about what he possesses." If Michael had spoken to her 
 
 (143) 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 before lie went away, she would have given him an answer 
 one way or the other, and he would have known how he 
 stood." 
 
 "That's true, for this has come upon him unexpectedly. 
 Now put your woman's wits to work in the matter." 
 
 "What will wits avail here. Council is needed here." 
 
 "Let him take Basia." 
 
 "But if he prefers the other, as he evidently does, Oh, if 
 I had only had an inkling of it!" 
 
 "It's a pity that you didn't." 
 
 "How could I, when it didn't even occur to such a Solomon 
 as yourself." 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 "You advised Ketling." 
 
 "I, God is my witness that I advised no one. I said that 
 he was attracted to her, and that was true; I said that Ket- 
 ling was a worthy knight, and that was true; but I leave 
 matchmaking for the fair sex. Madame, at the present time, 
 half the Commonwealth is resting on my shoulders. Have I 
 the time to think of anything else but public affairs? Fre- 
 quently I haven't even time to take a mouthful." 
 
 "For God's sake advise us now. On every hand, I hear 
 nothing but that there is no head like yours, sir." 
 
 "People are everlastingly talking about this head of mine, 
 they might leave it alone for a time. As for advice there are 
 two alternatives. Either let Michael take Basia, or let Krysia 
 alter her resolve; a resolve is not a marriage." At this point, 
 Pan Makovyetska entered and his wife immediately told him 
 everything. He was greatly troubled, for he was very fond 
 of Pan Michael and greatly valued him. But he couldn't 
 think of any help for the time being. 
 
 "If Krysia is obstinate," he said, thoughtfully stroking his 
 brow, "what good will arguments do in the matter?" 
 
 "Krysia will be obstinate," said Pani Makovyetska. "She 
 always has been." 
 
 "What was Pan Michael thinking about, not to make cer- 
 tain before going away?" asked Pan Makovyetska." Some- 
 thing even worse might have happened by leaving matters in 
 that condition. Her heart might have been won by another 
 in his absence." 
 
 "In that case, she would not immediately have made up her 
 mind to take the veil," answered Pani Makovyetska. "She is 
 free, however." 
 
tf MICHAEL. 
 
 "True," her husband replied. 
 
 But lid it was already breaking in on Zagloba. If he had 
 known of the secret bet-ween Krysia and Pan Michael, every- 
 thing would have been clear at once, but not knowing it, 
 everything was confused. Still, his sharp wits began to pene- 
 trate the clouds and comprehend Krysia's real reasons and in- 
 tentions, and Pan Michael's despair. 
 
 lie soon came to feel certain that Ketling was concerned in 
 the affair. His suspicions only lacked certainty, and he there- 
 fore determined to approach Michael and question him more 
 closely. 
 
 As he was going, he was greatly troubled, for he reflected: 
 
 "I am responsible for much of this business. I wanted to 
 drink mead at the wedding of Basia and Michael, but I am 
 by no means certain that I haven't supplied sour beer instead 
 of mead, for now, Michael will go back to his former in- 
 tention and take the cowl in imitation of Krysia." 
 
 Here Zagloba's blood ran cold, so he hurried on and in 
 another moment was in Pan Michael's room. 
 
 The little knight was walking up and down like a wild 
 beast in a cage. There were great wrinkles in his forehead 
 and his eyes were glaring; he was in terrible suffering. When 
 he saw Zagloba he suddenly stopped in front of him and 
 placed his hands on his breast crying: 
 
 f *'Tcll me, what does it mean?" 
 
 "Michael," cried Zagloba; "think how many maidens go into 
 a convent every year; it's quite a common thing. Some do it 
 against their parents' wishes, hoping that the Lord Jesus will 
 approve of them but in this case what matter of surprise is 
 there, when her will is entirely free." 
 
 "I won't keep it secret any longer," cried Pan Michael. 
 "She is not free, because she promised me her love and her 
 hand, before I went away." 
 
 "I did not know that." 
 
 "It is so." 
 
 "Perhaps she will listen to reason." 
 
 "She does not care for me any longer, she would not see 
 me," cried Pan Michael with great grief. "I traveled day 
 and night to get here, and she won't even see me. What have 
 I done? What sins are weighing me down for God's anger to 
 pursue me, for the wind to blow me about like a withered 
 leaf. One is dead and another is going into a convent. God 
 himself has deprived me of both; it is evident I am under a 
 curse. There is mercy and love for every man, except me." 
 10 
 
I4 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Zagloba's heart quaked for fear that the little knight 
 in his desperate grief might again blaspheme as he had before, 
 after the death of Anusia, so to turn his thoughts in another 
 direction he cried: 
 
 "Michael, don't doubt that there is mercy for you as well, 
 and besides how do you know what the future has in store 
 for you? Perhaps this very same Krysia will remember your 
 desolation and alter her mind and keep her promise to you. 
 And then, listen to me Michael, is there no consolation in the 
 thought that God, our Merciful Father, Himself, is the one 
 to deprive you of these doves instead of a man who walks the 
 earth, don't you think yourself that that is better." 
 
 For answer, the little knight's lips began to quiver and the 
 grinding of his teeth could be heard, as he cried, in a choked 
 and broken voice: 
 
 "If it were a living man, ah, if I could find him, I would 
 there would still be vengeance." 
 
 "But as it is, you still have prayer/ 7 said Zagloba. "Listen 
 to me, old friend, no one will ever give you better advice. 
 Perhaps God will yet order everything for the best. . . . 
 For myself, as you know, I desired another for you, but at the 
 sight of your pain, I also suffer, and will join you in praying 
 God to console you and soften the hard heart of this lady to- 
 wards you again." 
 
 Then Zagloba began to wipe away his tears which were 
 flowing in true grief and friendship. Could he possibly have 
 done so at that moment, he would have undone all he had 
 already done to get Krysia out of the way, and he would have 
 been the first to give her to Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Listen," he said after a pause, "have another conversation 
 with Krysia, lay before her your complaint and overwhelming 
 grief, and may God prosper you. She must have a heart of 
 stone if she does not take pity on you, but I have hopes that 
 she will. The veil is worthy of all praise, but not when 
 woven out of injustice to others, say that to her. You will 
 see ah, Michael, to-day you are in tears and perhaps to- 
 morrow we shall all be drinking at the betrothal. I am cer- 
 tain that is what it will be. The maiden got lonely, and that 
 is how she came to think of the veil. She will go to a cloister 
 sure enough, but one where you will be ringing the bell for a 
 christening. . . It may be also that she is feigning sickness, 
 and is only talking about the veil for a blind. In nny case 
 you have not heard of it by her own word of mouth, and please 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ! 47 
 
 God, you won't, Ha, ha! I have it! You agreed to keep it 
 secret, and as she did not want to reveal it, she is doing it for 
 a blind. As I live, it is nothing but womanly cunning." 
 
 Pan Zagloba's words soothed Pan Michael's lacerated heart 
 like a healing balm. Hope returned to him. His eyes filled 
 with tears. For a long while he was speechless, but when 
 lie had overcome his tears, he cast himself into his friend's 
 arms and said: 
 
 "Would to God, such" friends were not so scarce." 
 
 "I would bow down the heavens for you. It will be as I 
 say. Did you ever know me make a false prophecy? Have 
 you no confidence in my experience and wit?" 
 
 "You cannot even conceive how dearly I love her. Not 
 that I have forgotten the beloved dead, for I pray for her 
 every day, but my heart has grown as close to this one as a 
 fungus to a tree; she is my love. How my thoughts have 
 been with her, far away there among the grasses, morning, 
 noon, and night! At last, as I had no one to confide in, I 
 began to talk to myself. As I love God, even when pursuing 
 the Horde among the reeds, when galloping at full speed, my 
 thoughts were still with her." 
 
 "I believe it. In my young days I wept one of my own 
 eyes out over a certain maiden, and what was left of it became 
 covered with a cataract." 
 
 "Do not be surprised! I arrived here quite out of breath 
 and the first word I hear, is 'the cloister/ but I still have faith 
 in persuading her, and in her heart, and her word. What 
 was that you said? 'The veil is a good thing' . . . but made 
 of what?" 
 
 "But not when woven out of man's injustice." 
 
 "Finely said! Why am I never able to make those maxims? 
 Out there in the Stanitsa it would have been a good diversion. 
 I am in a terrible state of dread, but you have comforted me. 
 I certainly agreed with her to keep the matter secret and 
 therefore it is possible that she talked about the veil only for 
 the sake of keeping up appearances. Y r ou advanced another 
 very fine argument, but I can't remember it; you have com- 
 forted me greatly." 
 
 "Then come with me, or order a flask to be brought here, 
 it will do you good after the journey." 
 
 They went and sat drinking until late in the night. 
 
 The next day Pan Volodiyovski clothed his body in fine 
 raiment and his countenance in gravity, equipped himself 
 
I4 g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 with all the arguments that occurred to his own mind as well 
 as those which he had got from Pan Zagloba and went into 
 the dining-room where they all had their meals. Krysia was 
 the only one absent, but she was not long in appearing; the 
 little knight had scarcely swallowed two spoonfuls of soup 
 when the rustle of a dress was heard through the open door- 
 way and she entered. 
 
 She came so quickly that she almost rushed in. Her cheeks 
 were flaming, her eye-lids lowered, and her face expressed 
 anxiety and alarm. She approached Pan Michael and held 
 out both hands, without raising her eyes, and when he began 
 eagerly to kiss them she became very pale, and did not utter a 
 single word of welcome. 
 
 But his heart was filled with love and fear and delight at 
 the sight of her face, which was as delicate and noble as a 
 miraculous image, and at the sight of her graceful and beauti- 
 ful figure, warmed and refreshed by recent sleep; he was even 
 touched by the alarm and confusion depicted in her coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 "Most precious floweret," he thought to himself, "why are 
 you afraid? I would give my very life and blood for you." 
 
 But he did not say it aloud, he only pressed his pointed 
 little moustache so long to her hands, that he left red marks. 
 
 Basia, who was observing it all, purposely shook her golden 
 locks over her brow, so that her emotion should not be 
 noticed, but no one was paying any attention to her then, 
 they were all watching the other pair, and an embarrassing 
 silence followed. 
 
 Pan Michael was the first to break it. 
 
 "The night was sorrowful and restless for me," he said, 
 "because I saw everybody but you yesterday, and they told 
 me such dreadful things about you, that tears were closer to 
 me than sleep." 
 
 Krysia became still paler at such plain speech and, for a 
 moment, Pan Michael thought she was going to faint, and 
 quickly added: 
 
 "We must have a talk over the matter, but I won't say any 
 more just now, in order that you may recover your composure. 
 I am not a savage nor a wolf, and God knows how I wish you 
 well." 
 
 "I thank you!" whispered Krysia. 
 
 Pan Zagloba, Pan Makovyetsk* and his wife began to 
 glance at each other as a signal to commence talking as usual, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 149 
 
 but it was sometime before anyone succeeded in finding a 
 word to say; finally Zagloba began: 
 
 "It is necessary/' he said, turning to those present, "to go 
 to the city to-day. The coming election is making it like 
 boiling water, for every man is working for his own candi- 
 date. Along the way I will tell you who ought to receive 
 our votes, according to my opinion." 
 
 No one made any reply and so Zagloba looked around him 
 like an owl and at last turned to Basia and said: 
 
 "And you, little midge, will you go with us?" 
 
 "I will go even to Kussia," cried Basia sharply. 
 
 And silence again followed. The whole meal was occupied 
 with similar futile efforts to start a conversation; at last they 
 all rose. Pan Michael immediately approached Krysia and 
 said: 
 
 "I must speak with you in private." 
 
 He gave her his arm and led her into the next room; the 
 same room that had witnessed their first kiss. Seating 
 Krysia on the divan, he took his place beside her and began 
 to stroke her hair as he would have done with a little child. 
 
 "Krysia," at last he said gently, "have you recovered from 
 your confusion? Can you now answer me with tran quality 
 and composure?" 
 
 She had got over her confusion and was moreover touched 
 with his kindness, so she raised her eyes to his for a moment, 
 for the first time since he had returned. 
 
 "I can," she replied in a low voice. 
 
 "Is it true, that you have vowed to take the veil?" 
 
 Krysia clasped her hands and said in a beseeching voice: 
 
 "Do not take it ill of me, do not curse me, it is true." 
 
 "Krysia," said the knight, "is it right for you to trample on 
 the happiness of others, as you are doing; where is your 
 promise? Where is our engagement? I cannot fight against 
 God, but in the first place, I will repeat what Zagloba said to 
 me yesterday, 'that the veil should not be made out of in- 
 justice to others/ You will not further God's glory by my 
 loss. God rules over the whole world; all nations arc his. 
 His are the sea and the rivers, the birds of the air and the 
 beasts of the field, the sun and the stars. Everything is His, 
 whatever enters the mind of man, and more also, but I only 
 have you, precious and dear, you are my happiness, my all. 
 And can you say that the Lord God has need of that treasure. 
 He with such possessions to deprive a poor soldier of his only 
 
150 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 treasure! Can you imagine that he will be pleased and not 
 angered. . . Look what you are giving him yourself. But 
 you belong to me, for you promised yourself to me and are 
 therefore giving Him what belongs to another and what is not 
 your own; you are giving him my tears, my suffering, perhaps 
 my death. Have you any right to do this. Ponder this in 
 your heart and mind, and ask your own conscience. If I 
 had sinned against you; if I had done amiss in love, if I had 
 forgotten you, if I had been guilty of any crime or sin oh, I 
 will say no more, I will say no more. But I went against the 
 horde to keep watch to fight against raiders, to serve my 
 country with my blood, my health, and my days, and I loved 
 you, day and night I thought about you, and as a hart pants 
 for the water-brooks, as a bird for the air, as a child for its 
 mother, as a parent for its infant, I was pining for you. . . . 
 And for all this, what is my reception, what is my reward I 
 find prepared for me? Krysia, dearest, my friend, my own 
 love, tell me the reason of all this. Explain it as frankly and 
 truthfully as I have laid before you my reasons and my rights. 
 Keep faith with me, leave me not alone with misery. You 
 yourself gave me the rights, do not banish me." 
 
 The miserable Pan Michael did not understand that there 
 is a right greater and more lasting than any other human 
 right, in accordance with which the heart must and does obey 
 love alone; that the heart which ceases to love, breaks faith, 
 though often as innocently as the lamp goes out of itself when 
 the flame is exhausted. Not comprehending this, Pan 
 Michael put his arms about Krysia's knees and begged and 
 besought, but her only answer was a flood of tears, because 
 her heart could not respond to his. 
 
 "Krysia," at last said the knight, rising to his feet, "my 
 happiness may drown in your tears. That is not what I ask, 
 but help." 
 
 "Do not ask for reasons," cried Krysia between her sobs. 
 "Do not demand the cause, for it must be so, it cannot be 
 otherwise. I am not worthy of such a man as you, and I 
 never have been. I know that I am doing you an injury, and 
 it grieves me so dreadfully that I do not know what to do. I 
 know it is an injury, oh, Great God, my heart is rent, forgive 
 me and do not leave me in anger. Give me your pardon and 
 not your curses." Krysia cast herself on her knees before 
 Pan Michael. "I know that I am wronging you, but I be- 
 seech you to pity and forgive me. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I5I 
 
 Here Krysia's dark head bowed to the floor. Pan Michael 
 quickly raised the poor weeping girl and again placed her on 
 the divan while he began to stride up and down the room in 
 great agitation. Now and then he would stop and press his 
 hands to his temples, and then again resume his walking. At 
 last he came to a standstill before Krysia. 
 
 "Give yourself time, and me hope," he said, "remember 
 that I also am not made of stone. Why pitilessly sear me 
 with hot irons. Though I know my fortitude, yet when the 
 skin hisses, I feel the pain. . . Words cannot express how I 
 suffer. . . . God knows they can't. ... I am a plain man, 
 you know my years have been spent in warfare. . . . Great 
 God, oh dear Jesus, our love began when in this very house. 
 Kshykna! Kshykna! I thought you would be mine forever, 
 and now there is nothing, nothing! What has happened to 
 you, who has changed your heart, Krysu? I have not 
 changed. . . . And are you not aware that this is a harder 
 blow for me than it would be for another, for I have already 
 lost one love? Oh, Jesus, what can I say to her, to touch the 
 heart! ... A man only suffers, but leave me some hope at 
 least, do not take away everything at once." 
 
 Krysia made no reply, but sobs shook her more and more 
 violently; the little knight stood before her, at first repressing 
 his regret and fierce anger. And when he had overcome it, 
 he cried: 
 
 "At least, leave me some hope, do you hear me." 
 
 "I cannot, I cannot," Krysia replied. 
 
 And Pan Michael went to the window and pressed his head 
 against the cold pane. For a long time, he stood motionless; 
 at last he turned and made a couple of steps towards Krysia, 
 saying in very low tones: 
 
 "Farewell, there is nothing for me here. May you get as 
 much happiness from it, as I grief. Let me say this: I for- 
 give you with my lips, and as God will help me, I will also 
 forgive you with my heart. But take some pity upon the 
 suffering of others, and do not make a second promise. No 
 one can say that I carry away happiness with me from this 
 place. Farewell." 
 
 Then his lips quivered, he bowed, and went out. In the 
 next room, were Makovyetska with his wife and Zagloba; they 
 immediately arose inquiringly, but he waved them away. 
 
 "Nothing is of any use," he cried. "Leave me in peace." 
 
 A narrow corridor led out from there to his own room. In 
 
152 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 it, by the staircase, leading up to the ladies' apartments, Basia 
 stood in the little knight's way. "May God comfort you and 
 alter Krysia's heart/' she exclaimed in a voice choked with 
 tears. 
 
 He passed her without even a glance, or a word. Suddenly 
 fierce anger took possession of him, and bitterness seized his 
 heart: he therefore turned and faced the unoffending Basia 
 with a countenance full of savage mockery: "Promise your 
 hand to Ketling," he cried in hoarse tones, "and then cease to 
 love him, trample on his heart, rend it, and then take the 
 veil/' 
 
 "Pan Michael," cried Basia in amazement. 
 
 "Take your pleasure and your fill of kisses, and then turn 
 to repentance. Would to God you were both dead." 
 
 This was more than Basia could bear. God alone knew 
 what this wish that she had offered Pan Michael had cost her 
 the wish that God might alter Krysia's heart; and her re- 
 ward had been mockery and insult at the very moment when 
 she would have given her heart's blood to comfort the un- 
 grateful man. Consequently her spirit flamed up tempes- 
 tuously; her cheeks burned, her nostrils dilated, and without a 
 moment's reflection, as she shook her golden locks, she cried: 
 
 "Understand, sir, that it is not I who am going to take the 
 veil for Ketling." 
 
 Then she sprang up the stairs and disappeared. 
 
 The knight stood still as if petrified: presently, he began 
 to rub his eyes like a man just waking. 
 
 Then he thirsted for blood; he grasped his sabre and cried, 
 with a dreadful voice, "Woe to the traitor." 
 
 A few minutes later, Pan Michael was galloping towards 
 Warsaw so rapidly that the wind screamed in his ears, and 
 clods of earth were flying in showers from the hoof of his 
 horse. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Pan Makovyetska, with his wife and Zagloba saw Michael 
 ride away, and every heart was anxious; their eyes asked each 
 other, "What has happened? where is he going?" 
 
 "Great God," cried Pani Makovyetska, "he will go to the 
 steppes, and I shall never again see him alive." 
 
 "Or else to the cloister, like that mad woman," cried Za- 
 globa in despair. 
 
 "We must take council here," said Makovyetska. At that 
 moment the door opened and Basia broke into the room 
 like a whirlwind, pale and agitated, with her hands up to 
 both her eyes, and stamping on the floor like a child, she 
 cried: 
 
 "Help, help! He has gone to kill K'etling. Let him who 
 believes in God, hasten to stop him, help, help!" 
 
 "What is the matter child," cried Zagloba, seizing her 
 hands. 
 
 "Help, he will kill Ketling. Blood will be shed by my 
 instrumentality, and Krysia will die, all through me." 
 
 "Speak," cried Zagloba shaking her, "How do you know? 
 why, through you?" 
 
 "Because, in my anger, I told 'him that they are in love 
 with each other, that Krysia is taking the veil for Ketling's 
 sake. Let whoever believes in G-od stop them, hasten all 
 of you. Let us all go." 
 
 Zagloba was not accustomed to waste time on such occa- 
 sions, he therefore hastened to the yard and ordered out a 
 carriage immediately. 
 
 Pani Makovyetska wanted to question Basia about the 
 exciting intelligence, for, till that moment, she had no sus- 
 picion of the love of Krysia and Ketling; but Basia hurried 
 after Zagloba to see to the horses being harnessed, she helped 
 to lead them out and harness them up, and finally, although 
 she had nothing on her head she mounted to the drivers* box 
 before ill* 1 entrance where tin 1 two men were already waiting 
 read) for the road, 
 
 (-53) 
 
I54 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Come down," cried Zagloba. 
 
 "I will not come down." 
 
 "Step down, I tell you." 
 
 "Take your seats, take your seats, if you don't I will go 
 alone/ 7 then she seized the reins, and they, seeing that they 
 might be considerably delayed by her obstinacy, stopped 
 telling her to come down. 
 
 Meanwhile the driver came up with a whip, and Pani 
 Makovyetska managed to bring out a hat and shawl to 
 Basia, for it was a cold day. Then they started. Basia 
 stayed on the driver's box. Zagloba wanted to talk to her, 
 and asked her to sit on the front seat, but she was even un- 
 willing to do this, perhaps for fear of a scolding. Zagloba 
 therefore had to address her from a distance and she an- 
 swered him without turning her head. 
 
 "How do you know what you told Michael about those 
 two," he asked. 
 
 "I know everything." 
 
 "Did Krysia tell you?" 
 
 "Krysia did not tell me anything.' 
 
 "Then perhaps the Scot did." 
 
 "No, but I know, and that's the reason he is going to 
 England. He fooled everybody but me." 
 
 "It's very strange," said Zagloba. 
 
 "It is your doing," said Basia. "You should not have 
 thrown them in each other's way." 
 
 "Keep quiet there, and don't meddle in what is not your 
 business,' 'answered Zagloba, who was cut to the quick be- 
 cause he received this reproach in the presence of Mako- 
 vyetska. 
 
 "Therefore," he presently added, "I throw people together! 
 I give advice! Listen to that. I like that idea!" 
 
 "Well, do you mean to say you did not?" she retorted. 
 
 They proceeded in silence. Nevertheless Zagloba could 
 not get away from the thought that Basia was right, and 
 that to a great extent he was responsible for all that had 
 occurred. This thought greatly disturbed him, and as the 
 carriage jolted horribly, the old gentleman got into an evil 
 mood and gave way to self-reproach. 
 
 "It would serve me right," he thought, "for Michael and 
 Ketling to join in cutting off my ears. To induce .a man to 
 marry against his will is as bad as making him ride with his 
 face to the horse's tail. That midge is right. If there is a 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 155 
 
 duel between those two, Ketling's blood will be on my bead. 
 A fine business for me to get mixed up in in my old age! 
 To the devil with it, besides, they almost deceived me, for I 
 had scarcely an inkling why Ketling was going across the 
 sea and Krysia to a nunnery, while the little haiduk had 
 discovered everything long ago it seems . . ." 
 
 Then Zagloba meditated in silence for a time, and pre- 
 sently muttered: 
 
 "A rogue and not a mere maiden. Michael must have bor- 
 rowed eyes from a crawfish, to choose a doll instead of such 
 a one." 
 
 Meanwhile they arrived in the city, and there their troubles 
 really commenced. Not one of them knew where Ketling 
 was staying, nor where Pan Michael was likely to go, to 
 hunt for either was like hunting for one grain in a bushel 
 of poppy seed. They first went to the Grand Hetman's 
 mansion. There they learned that Ketling was to start that 
 morning on a journey across the sea. Pan Michael had been 
 there and made inquiries about the Scot, but where he had 
 afterwards gone, nobody knew. Some imagined that he 
 might have gone to the squadron, encamped in the field out- 
 side the city. 
 
 Zagloba gave orders to proceed to the camp, but they could 
 not get any information there. They visited every inn on 
 Dluga street, they went to Praga, but it was all in vain. 
 
 Meanwhile night came on, and since an inn was not to 
 be thought of, they were obliged to turn home. They went 
 back greatly troubled. Basia wept a little, and the pious 
 Makovyetska said a prayer. Zagloba was very anxious. 
 However, he did his best to keep up his own spirits and those 
 of the others. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "we are fretting and most likely Michael 
 is already at home." 
 
 "Or slain," cried Basia. 
 
 And wailingly she repeated, "God cut my tongue out, it 
 was all my fault, my fault, oh God, I shall go mad." 
 
 "Silence, there, child, it is not your fault," cried Zagloba, 
 "and be sure of this, if any man is slain, it is not Michael." 
 
 "But I am so sorry for Ketling. We have given him a 
 fine repayment for his hospitality, I must say, Oh God! oh 
 God!" 
 
 "That is true," added Pan Makovyetska. 
 
 "Leave that alone, for God's sake. Ketling is certainly 
 
15 6 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 nearer Prussia than Warsaw, by now. You heard thorn say 
 he was going away. 1 also put my hope's in (Joel, that if he 
 and Pan Michael met, they will remember their ancient 
 friendship and the service they have gone through together. 
 They rode stirrup to stirrup; they slept on the same saddle, 
 they scouted in company, the same blood stained the hands 
 of both. Throughout the army their friendship was so no- 
 torious that on account of Ketling's beauty he was known 
 -s Pan Michael's wife. It is impossible that they should not 
 remember all this, when they meet." 
 
 "Still it sometimes happens/' said the prudent Makovy- 
 etska, "that it is precisely the warmest friendship that turns 
 to the fiercest hatred. It was so in our neighborhood, when 
 Pan Deyma killed Pan Ubysh, with whom he had lived for 
 twenty years on terms of the greatest harmony. I can give 
 you the details of that unhappy affair." 
 
 "If my mind were less disturbed, I would listen to you as 
 gladly as I do to her ladyship, your lordship's wife, who is 
 also in the habit of entering into details, in addition to 
 genealogies, but what you have just said about friendship and 
 hatred has impressed my mind; God forbid that it should 
 be so in this case!" 
 
 "One was Pan Deyma and the other Pan Ubysh, both 
 worthy men and mess-fellows. 
 
 "Oh, oh, 'oh," cried Zagloba sadly, "we will trust in the 
 mercy of God that it will not be so in this case, but if it 
 should, Ketling will be the one to die." 
 
 "A great calamity," exclaimed Makovyetska after a pause 
 "Yes, yes, Deyma and Ubysh, I remember it as well as if it 
 happened to-day, and there was a woman in the case too." 
 
 "Everlastingly those women! The first daw that comes 
 will brew such beer that no one who drinks it will be able to 
 digest it," muttered Zagloba. 
 
 "Don't say anything against Krysia, sir," cried Basia 
 sharply. 
 
 "Oh, if Pan Michael had only fallen in love with you none 
 of this would have happened," said Zagloba. 
 
 In this kind of talk they reached the house. The sight 
 of lights in the windows made their hearts beat faster, for 
 they thought Pan Michael perhaps had returned. 
 
 But Pani Makovyetska was the only one to receive them, 
 and she was deeply distressed and alarmed. When she heard 
 that their search had not been of any effect, she wept bitterly 
 and began to lament that she would never see her brother 
 
Pl.V MICHAEL. 157 
 
 again. Basia immediately joined her in her grief. Za- 
 globa also was unable to repress his sorrow. 
 
 "I will go again to-moro\v before dawn by myself/' he 
 said. "I may succeed in getting some news." 
 
 "We can make a better search together/ 7 suggested Mak- 
 ovyetska. 
 
 "No, let your lordship stay with the ladies. If Ketling 
 is alive, I will bring you word." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! we are living in that man's house/' 
 cried Makovyetska. "To-morrow we must find an inn by 
 some means of other, or even pitch tents in the open. Any- 
 thing rather than live longer here.' 7 
 
 "Wait for word from me, or we shall miss each other. If 
 Ketling is slain . . ." 
 
 "Don't speak so loud, for Heaven's sake/' said Pani Mak- 
 ovyetska, "or the servants will hear, and. tell Krysia, and she 
 is almost dead as it is." 
 
 "I will go to her," said Basia. 
 
 And she darted up stairs. Those who were left below 
 were anxious and alarmed. Not a soul in the whole house 
 slept. The thought that Ketling might already be a corpse 
 filled them with horror. Moreover, the night became dark 
 and stifling; thunder began to mutter in the sky, and pre- 
 sently the darkness began to be pierced by the lightning every 
 instant. About midnight, the first spring tempest burst. 
 It woke even the servants. 
 
 Krysia and Basia left their chambers and went to the 
 dining-room. There they all sat in silent prayer, or re- 
 peated in chorus at each clap of thunder, "And the Word 
 was made Flesh," according to custom. 
 
 Amid the roar of the tempest was sometimes heard a sound, 
 like the tramp of a horse, and on such occasions, the hair 
 would stand upright in fright on the heads of Basia and 
 Pani Makovyetska and the two old men, for at any moment 
 they expected the door to open and Pan Michael come in, 
 bathed with Ketling's blood. 
 
 For the first time in his life, the usually agreeable Michael 
 lay as heavy as a stone on people's hearts and filled them with 
 terror at the very thought of him. 
 
 Nevertheless, the night passed without bringing any news 
 of the little knight. At dawn, when the tempest had some- 
 what lessened Zagloba again took his departure for the city. 
 
 The day passed and brought constantly increasing: fear. 
 Ha-n'a ei all day till the evening in the window facing the 
 gat? watching the road along which Zagloba would return, 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the servants at the orders of Pan Mak- 
 ovyetska, were slowly packing the trunks for moving. Krysia 
 was engaged in looking after this, as in that way she could 
 keep apart from the Makovyetskas and Pan Zagioba. 
 
 For, although Pani Makovyetska did not say a single word 
 in her presence, or mention his name, yet, that very silence 
 assured Krysia that Pan Michael's love for her, their secret 
 engagement, and her late retraction had been found out, and 
 therefore, it was difficult to- admit that these, who were 
 closest to Pan Michael, were not angry and hurt. Poor 
 Krysia felt that it must be so, that it certainly was so, that 
 these hearts, hitherto so affectionate, had turned away from 
 her, and so she wanted to suffer alone. 
 
 Towards evening the trunks were all packed, so that it 
 would be possible to move that day, but Pani Makovyetska 
 was still awaiting news from Zagioba. Supper was brought 
 in, but no one wanted any, and the evening crawled on, 
 heavily and unendurably, and as silently as if they were all 
 engaged in listening to the ticking of the clock. 
 
 "Let us go into the salon/ at last said Pani Makovyetska, 
 "it's impossible to stay here any longer/' 
 
 They went in and sat down, but before anyone had time to 
 speak a word the dogs were heard under the window. 
 
 "Some one is coming," cried Basia. 
 
 "The dogs are barking as if the people belong to the 
 house," observed Pani Makovyetska. 
 
 "Silence," cried her husband; "there is a rumble of 
 wheels." 
 
 "Silence," repeated Basia, "yes, it is coming nearer every 
 moment. It is Pan Zagioba." 
 
 Basia and Pani Makovyetska jumped up and ran out. 
 Pani Makovyetska's heart began to beat loudly, but she 
 stayed with Krysia, so that her haste might not indicate that 
 Pan Zagioba was bringing exceedingly important news. 
 
 In the meantime wheels were heard immediately under 
 the window, and then they suddenly stopped. Voices were 
 heard in the hall, and in a few moments, Basia rushed into 
 the room like a whirlwind, with a face as white as if she had 
 eeen a ghost. 
 
 "Basia, what is it? who is it?" cried Pani Makovyetska 
 in amazement. 
 
 But before Basia could get her breath to reply, the door 
 opened and gave entrance first to Pan Makovyetska, and then 
 Pan Michael, and lastly* Ketling. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Ketling was so altered that he was scarcely able to m*k'' 
 a low bow to the ladies. He then stood motionless, holding 
 his hat to his breast with his eyes closed like a miracle-work- 
 ing image. Pan Michael first embraced his sister and then 
 approached Krysia. 
 
 Her face was as white as a sheet, which made the faint 
 down on her lip look darker than usual; her breast rose and 
 fell quickly. But Pan Michael gently took her hand and 
 pressed it to his lips, then his lips worked as if he were medi- 
 tating, and at last he spoke with great sadness, but tran- 
 quility: 
 
 "My gracious lady, or rather, my dearest Krysia, do not be 
 afraid to listen to me, because I am not a Scythian, or a 
 Tartar, or a wild man, but a friend, who, though himself not 
 very happy, is yet desirous of your happiness. I have dis- 
 covered that you and Ketling are in love with each other; 
 Panna Basia in righteous anger, cast it in my teeth. I do 
 not deny that I flew out of this house in anger, and went tc 
 take vengeance on Ketling. . . He who loses his all, is 
 easily carried away by revenge, and I, as God is dear to me, 
 loved you to desperation, and not merely as an unmarried man 
 loves a maiden. . . . For, if I had been married, and the 
 Almighty had given me an only son or daughter, and had 
 afterwards taken them away, I think I should not then have 
 mourned so much over their loss as I have mourned over you." 
 
 At this point Pan Michael's voice failed for a moment, but 
 he quickly recovered himself, and after his lips had quivered 
 for a moment, he proceeded: 
 
 "Grief is grief, but it can't be helped. It is no wonder 
 that Ketling should have fallen in love with you. Who would 
 not. And it is my lot that you should have fallen in love 
 with him. That is no wonder either, for how can I compare 
 with Ketling. On the field of battle, he himself will acknowl- 
 edge that I am not his inferior, that is quite different. The 
 Almighty has beautified one and deprived the other of come- 
 
 (159) 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 liness, but has made it up to him with reasonableness. So 
 that when along the road the winds were blowing round my 
 ears, and the first heat of my anger had passed, conscience 
 immediately cried out, "Why punish them, why shed the 
 blood of a friend? It was by God's will that they fell in love." 
 Old people say that the command of a Hetman avails nothing 
 where the heart is in question. It was the will of God by 
 which they fell in love, but that they were not traitors in 
 the result of their own honest natures. If Ketling had been 
 aware of your promise to me, I should most likely have called 
 out to him for satisfaction, but he did not know it. What was 
 his fault? Nothing. And your fault? Nothing. He wanted 
 to go away, you wanted to take refuge in God. My fate is 
 to be blamed, and mine alone, for the hand of God is visible 
 in all this, as I am left alone. But I have vanquished myself; 
 I have overcome." 
 
 Pan Michael again stopped and began to breathe rapidly 
 as a man does when he emerges into the air after a long dive; 
 then he took Krysia's hand. 
 
 "To love so as to desire everything for oneself," he said, 
 "does not require much exertion. I thought to myself, the 
 hearts of all three of us are breaking. It would be better if 
 one could suffer and relieve the other two. Krysia, God grant 
 you happiness with Ketling. Amen. God grant you happi- 
 ness with Ketling, Krysia." . . . 
 
 "It hurts a little, but that does not matter God grant you 
 God grant It's nothing I have conquered myself." 
 
 The soldier said, "It's nothing!" but he clenched his teeth 
 and his breath came hissing through them. Basia's sobs 
 were heard at the other end of the room. 
 
 "Ketling, my brother, come here!" cried Pan Michael. 
 
 Ketling approached, knelt down, extended his arms and 
 silently, with the utmost respect and affection, embraced Kry- 
 sia's knees. 
 
 But Pan Michael proceeded in broken tones. 
 
 "Lay your hand on his head. Poor fellow, he has suffered 
 too. . . God bless you both. You will not go to the con- 
 vent. . . I would rather you should bless me, than have 
 cause to curse me. The Almighty is above me, though now it 
 is hard for me ..." 
 
 Basia was not able to bear any longer, and darted out of 
 the room, whereupon Pan Michael turned to Makovyetska 
 and his sister and said, "Come to the other room, and leave 
 
PAN MICHAEL. !6i 
 
 them together; I also will go somewhere, and fall on my 
 knees and commend myself to the Lord Jesus." And he 
 departed. 
 
 Half way down the passage, he met Basia by the stairs, 
 on the very spot where, in her anger, she had betrayed the 
 secret of Krysia and Ketling's love. But this time Basia 
 was leaning against the wall convulsively sobbing. 
 
 On seeing her, Pan Michael was affected at the thought of 
 his own lot; till that moment he had restrained himself to 
 the best of his ability, but now, the bonds of grief broke, and 
 a torrent of tears sprang from his eyes. 
 
 "Why are you weeping?" he cried. 
 
 Basia raised her head, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles 
 in turn like a child, and choking and grasping with her mouth 
 open and replied between her sobs: 
 
 "I am so sorry, oh for God's sake ! . . . oh Jesus! . . . 
 Pan Michael is so good and noble. Oh for God's sake! . . . " 
 
 Pan Michael grasped her hands and began to kiss them in 
 gratitude and emotion. "God reward you, God reward you 
 for your tender heart," he said, "be quiet and cease weeping." 
 
 Nevertheless Basia kept on sobbing almost to suffocation. 
 Her every vein was throbbing with grief and she gasped for 
 breath, till at last, stamping her foot in her agitation she cried 
 out so loudly that her voice echoed through the hall: 
 
 "Krysia is an idiot, I would rather have one Pan Michael 
 than ten Ketlings." I love Pan Michael with all my heart, 
 better than aunt, or uncle, or Krysia either." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, Basia," cried the little knight, and 
 wanting to calm her sorrow he siezed her in his arms and she 
 nestled closely against his breast till he felt her heart throb- 
 bing like a tired bird, then he held her more closely to him 
 and kept her there. 
 
 There was silence. 
 
 "Basia, do you want me?" asked the little knight. 
 
 "I do, I do, I do," answered Basia. 
 
 At this reply, he was transported in his turn; he pressed 
 his lips to her rosy lips in a long kiss. 
 
 In the meantime, a carriage rumbled up to the house and 
 Zagloba came running into the hall, and thence to the dining- 
 room, where Pan Makovyetska was sitting with his wife. "I 
 can find no trace of Michael," he cried in a breath, "and I 
 havo hunted everywhere. Pan Krytski told me that he saw 
 him and Ketling together; -most certainly they have fought." 
 11 
 
!6 2 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "Michael is here," answered Pani Makovyetska, "he brought 
 Ketling with him, and resigned Krysia to him." 
 
 The pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was changed muet 
 certainly have had a less astonished face than Zagloba's at 
 that moment. For some moments there was silence, and then 
 the old noble rubbed his eyes and inquired, "Eh?"' 
 
 "Krysia and Ketling are sitting together in the next room 
 and Michael has gone away to pray/' said Makovyetska. 
 
 Without a moment's delay, Zagloba entered the next room, 
 and though he was acquainted with everything, he was again 
 amazed to see Ketling and Krysia sitting with their heads 
 together. They sprang to their feet in great confusion, and 
 remained speechless, more especially as the Makovyetskas fol- 
 lowed Zagloba. 
 
 "A whole lifetime would not be enough for giving Michael 
 thanks," at last said Ketling. "To him, we owe our happi- 
 ness." 
 
 "God grant you happiness," said Makovyetska. "We will 
 not oppose Michael." 
 
 Krysia cast herself into the arms of Pani Makovyetska and 
 they mingled their tears. Zagloba was like one stunned. 
 Ketling prostrated himself before Makovyetska like a son 
 before a father, and either from the confusion of his ideas or 
 because his thoughts were running on another subject, Makov- 
 yetska said: 
 
 "But Pan Deyma killed Pan Ubysh. Give thanks to 
 Michael and not to me!" 
 
 After a little while he asked: 
 
 "Wife, what was the lady's name?" 
 
 But she had no time to answer, for at that moment Basia 
 came running in, out of breath even more than usual and 
 rosier than usual, and with her hair in more than usual dis- 
 order; she darted toward Ketling and Krysia, and pointing 
 her finger at both in turn she ci-ied: "Aha, sigh, love, marry! 
 You think that Pan Michael will be alone in the world? Far 
 from it; I shall battle for him, for I love him and have told 
 him so. I told him first and he asked if I wanted to have him, 
 and I told him that I would rather have him than any other 
 ten, for I love him and I'll make him the foest wife in the 
 world and will never leave his side. I have loved him for a 
 long while, though I never told him, for he is the best, 
 noblest, and dearest . . . And now you can go and marry 
 yourselves, and I will take Pan Michael . , . to-morrow ? 
 if necessary, . . . for . . , ): 
 
PAN MICHAEL. T 6 3 
 
 Here Basia's breath failed her. 
 
 Everybody stared at her, wondering whether she had gone 
 mad, or was telling the truth, then they looked at each other 
 and just at that moment Pan Michael appeared behind Basia 
 in the doorway. 
 
 "Michael/' asked the Stolnik when he had recovered his 
 wits, "is this true that we hear?" 
 
 "God has wrought a miracle," replied the liftle knight 
 gravely, "and this is my solace, my love, and my most precious 
 treasure." 
 
 At these words Basia sprang to his side like a deer. 
 
 At the same time Zagloba's face lost its look of amazement 
 and his lips began to quiver; he opened his arms wide and 
 exclaimed, "By God! I must weep . . . Little haiduk, 
 Michael, come here!" 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 They loved each other dearly. They were very happy with 
 each other, but they had no children, though they had now 
 lived together four years. They managed their estates witli 
 great care. With his own and Basia's money Volodiyovski 
 bought several villages near Kamenets, not paying much for 
 them because people were fearful of invasion by the Turks 
 and therefore glad to sell land in that district. He intro- 
 duced order and military discipline into his possessions; he set 
 about quieting the restless inhabitants, rebuilt the houses 
 that had been burned, set up 'fortalices' or little forts, for- 
 tified manor-houses which he temporarily garrisoned and, 
 just as of old he had successfully defended the country, so 
 now he managed his land with profit, though never laying 
 down the sword. 
 
 His property's best protection was the fame of his own 
 name. He poured water on his blade and concluded brother- 
 hood with some of the Murzas and he crushed others. Raid- 
 ing bodies of Cossacks, scattered bands of the horde, marau- 
 ders of the steppes, bandits from the plains of Bessarabia, 
 all trembled at the name of the "Little Falcon" and so his 
 herds of horses and flocks of sheep and his buffaloes and 
 camels were safe on the steppes. Even his neighbors were 
 respected. His possessions multiplied by the help of his 
 able wife. The respect and affection of others surrounded 
 him. His own country had honored him with office and he 
 was loved by the Hetman; the Pasha of Khotsim smacked 
 his lips in wonder at him; far away in the Crimea, in 
 Bakhche Serai his name was uttered with respect. 
 
 The three important things in his life were husbandry, 
 war, and love. 
 
 The sultry summer of 1671 found Pan Volodiyovski in 
 Sokola, a village of Basia's patrimony. That village, Sokola, 
 formed the pearl of their possessions. Here they hospitably 
 and sumptuously entertained Pan Zagloba who disregarded 
 the hardships of a journey unfit for one of his years and 
 (167) 
 
X MICHAEL. 
 
 came to visit them in fulfilment of a solemn promise made 
 at the wedding of Volo-diyovski. But the revels and delight 
 of his hosts at having this beloved guest was soon disturbed 
 by an order from the Hetman calling Pan Michael to the 
 command of Khreptyov, so that he might keep his eyes on 
 the Moldavian boundary, listen for voices from the desert, 
 defend the spot, rout the chambuls, and clear the neighbor- 
 hood from outlaws. 
 
 Like a soldier ever loyal to the Commonwealth's service, 
 the little knight immediately ordered his servants to driva 
 the herds out of the pasture, to break in the camels, and to 
 arm themselves. 
 
 But his heart was torn by the thought of leaving his wife, 
 for he loved her like husband and father in one and could 
 hardly breathe without her; yet he had no desire to have her 
 go with him to the savage and solitary deserts of Ushytsa, 
 exposed to many perils. 
 
 But she insisted on accompanying him 
 
 "Think/" she said, "it will be less dangerous if I am with 
 you and protected by the troops, than if I stay here? Your 
 tent is all the roof I want, for I took you to share your 
 fatigue, toil, and danger. If I remain here, I shall die with 
 anxiety; but there with such a soldier as you, I shall feel safer 
 than the queen at Warsaw. Even if I have to go into the 
 field with you, I will go gladly. Without you I shall not be 
 able to sleep; I shall not be able to eat a mouthful; indeed, I 
 shall not be able to stand it, but I will fly to Khreptyov; and, 
 if you wont admit me, I will stay at the gate all night, and 
 weep and plead until you take compassion on me." 
 
 At this display of affection Yolodiyovski fondly folded 
 his wife in his arms and showered kisses upon her rosy cheeks, 
 and she returned kiss for kiss. 
 
 "I should not hesitate/ he finally said, "if it were merely 
 a matter of being stationed on guard and atacking relays 
 of the horde. There would be sufficient men because I shall 
 have one of the squadrons from the General of Podolia, and 
 oife from the Under Chamberlain; and in addition to them, 
 Montovidlo will be there with his Semenov Cossacks and 
 Linkhaus' Dragoons. Altogether there will be six hundred 
 soldiers, making a thousand with the camp followers. But I 
 dread something, which the boasters of the Diet in War- 
 saw won't credit, but which we on the borders look for at 
 any hour, and that is a terrible war with the whole Turkish 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ^9 
 
 force. Pan Myslishevski has affirmed it, and the Pasha of 
 Khotsim talks of it every day; the Hetman is of the opinion 
 that the Sultan will aid Doroshenko and will declare war 
 upon the Commonwealth; and, in that case, what could I do 
 with you, my most beloved little flower, my gift from God?" 
 
 "Your lot shall be mine. I want no other fate than 
 yours." 
 
 Pan Zagloba now broke the silence saying to Basia: 
 
 "No matter whether you wish it or not, your fate will be 
 quite different from Michael's, if the Turks capture you. Ha! 
 After the Cossacks, the Swedes, the Northerners, and the 
 Brandenburg dog-kennel, comes the Turk! I said to the 
 priest Olshovski, 'Never drive Doroshenko to despair, for he 
 only favors the Turk from necessity/ What then? Nobody 
 listened to me. They sent Hanenko against Dorosh, and 
 now Dorosh, 1 whether he wants to or not, must walk down 
 the Turk's throat, and, moreover, lead him against us. 
 Michael, you remember that I warned the priest Olshovski 
 in your presence." 
 
 "You must have warned him on some occasion when I was 
 not present for I remember nothing of it," replied the little 
 knight. "Yet what you say about Doroshenko is holy truth, 
 for the Hetmaii is of the same opinion; it is even said that 
 he has letters from Doroshenko to that effect. But things 
 are as they are; it is too late to negotiate now. You have 
 a keen understanding, however, and I should like to know 
 what you think. Shall I take Bashka to Khreptyov, or had 
 I better let her stay here ? I ought to tell you that the place 
 is a fearful desert. It always was a miserable hamlet, but 
 so many Cossacks and chambuls have passed through it 
 during the last twenty years that I am not sure if I shall find 
 as much as two beams fastened together. There are num- 
 erous ravines there overgrown with woods, hiding-places, deep 
 caverns, and all kinds of dens, where the murderers hide by 
 the hundred, to say nothing of the Wallachians." 
 
 "Murderes in the presence of so many troops are a trifle," 
 said Zagloba. "Chambuls, too, are a trifle; for if strong ones 
 attack you, you will have warning; and if they are weak you 
 will wipe them out of existence." 
 
 "What then!" cried Basia, "isn't everything a trifle? 
 Outlaws are a trifle; chambuls are a trifle. With so many 
 troops Michael can protect me against the entire Crimea.' 7 
 
 1 Dorogb, game a Doroshenko. 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "Don't disturb me while 1 am deliberating," said Zagloba, 
 "if you do, I'll pronounce against you/ 7 
 
 Basia quickly covered her mouth with both hands and 
 leaned her little head towards her shoulder, pretending to 
 be dreadfully afraid of Zagloba, who, although aware that 
 the little woman was only playing, took pleasure in her be- 
 havior; he placed his old hand upon her shining head, and 
 said: 
 
 "Well! Fear not! I will make you happy about this." 
 
 Basia forthwith kissed his hand, for indeed much de- 
 pended upon his infallible judgment, which never led people 
 astray; he thrust his hands under his belt, and rapidly 
 glancing with his sound eye from one to the other, said 
 abruptly: 
 
 "You have no children; none; So!" 
 
 And then he protruded his lower lip. 
 
 "God's will, that's all," said Volodiyovski, lowering his 
 eyes. 
 
 "God's will, that's all," said Basia, lowering her eyes. 
 
 "And do you wish to have?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 The little knight replied: 
 
 "I will tell you honestly I don't know what I wouldn't 
 give for children; but sometimes I think it a vain desire. The 
 Lord Jesus has granted me happiness in giving me this 
 kitten, or this little haiduk, as you call her, and has, 
 moreover, blessed me with fame and wealth. I don't dare 
 to worry him for more blessings. You see I have come to 
 the conclusion, more than once, that if everybody got all he 
 desired there would be no difference between this earthly 
 Commonwealth and the heavenly one, where perfect happi- 
 ness is alone to be found. Therefore, I think if I do not 
 have one or two sons here, they will not fail to come to me 
 above, and they will do service and become famous under 
 that heavenly Hetman, the holy Archangel Michael, battling 
 i with the vileness of Hell and attaining high rank." 
 
 Moved by his own thoughts and words, the devout Chris- 
 tian knight lifted his eyes to Heaven; but Zagloba heard 
 him with indifference and kept blinking 'his eye severely. 
 Finally he said: 
 
 "Take care that you don't blaspheme. The boast you 
 make, that you know the intention of God so well, may prove 
 to be a sin for which you will hop about like peas on a hot 
 griddle. The Lord God has wider sleeves than the Bishop 
 
PAN MICHAEL. l ^ l 
 
 of Cracow, and He is not fond of having small people peep 
 to see what he has planned for them r and He does what he 
 pleases; but you attend to your own affairs, and if you wish 
 for heirs you must keep together and not separate." 
 
 On hearing this, Basia jumped for joy into the middle 
 of the room, clapped her hands, and said: 
 
 "Well then, we'll keep together. I felt sure that your 
 lordship would take my part; I felt sure of it! We'll both 
 go to Khreptyov, Michael, dear, and you'll take me once 
 just once my dear, my golden one, against the Tartars!" 
 
 "There you are! Now she's longing to go into the field!" 
 exclaimed the little knight. 
 
 "With you I should not be afraid of the whole horde." 
 
 "Silentium!" said Zagloba, gazing with benignant eyes, 
 or rather his benignant eye upon Basia, to whom he was 
 perfectly devoted. "By the way, Khreptyov is not far from 
 here. I hope it is not the last post before you reach the 
 wild fields." 
 
 "No, there will be other posts in Mohillov and Yampol, 
 and, finally, in Rashkov," answered the little knight. 
 
 "In Rashkov? I know Rashkov. We brought Pan Yan's 
 wife, Halshka 1 from there you remember that ravine in 
 Valadynka, Michael. You recollect how I cut down that 
 devil or monster, named Cheremis, who guarded her? But 
 as long as the last garrison is to be in Rashkov they will 
 get the news quickly if the Crimea should pise, or all the 
 Turkish strength, and will give us warning in Khreptyov; 
 there will be no great danger, for you see we cannot be sud- 
 denly taken at Khreptyov. I say this advisedly; for you know 
 well enough that I would rather lay down my old head than 
 expose her to any danger. Take her. It will be better for 
 the health of both of you. But Basia must promise that 
 in case a great war breaks out she will let herself be taken 
 to Warsaw, for there would be some terrible marches and hot 
 fighting, sieges, and, perhaps, some starving, as we had at 
 Zbaraj; at such times it is hard for a man to save his head, 
 but what would happen to a woman?" 
 
 "I should not mind falling at Michael's side," said Basia; 
 "but still I am reasonable, and know that when a thing is 
 impossible, it is impossible. After all, it is Michael's will; 
 not mine. This year he went on Pan Sobieskfs expedition. 
 
 1 Diminutive of Helena. 
 
X MICHAEL. 
 
 Did I insist on going, too? No. Well then, if you let me go 
 to Khreptyov with Michael, you can send me anywhere you 
 please if war breaks out.' 
 
 "His grace, Pan Zagloba, will escort you to Podlasia to the 
 Skshetuskis," said the little knight, "the Turks will never get 
 there." 
 
 "Pan Zagioba! Pan Zagloba!'' mocked the old nobleman. 
 "Am I a soldier? Don't trust your wives to Pan Zagloba, 
 imagining that he is senile, he may be somethhing quite dif- 
 ferent. I repeat, do you think if war with the Turk breaks 
 out, I will go into the kitchen at Podlasia and keep the roast 
 meat from burning? I'm not yet a menial. Perhaps I shall 
 be good for something better than that. I admit that I 
 mount from the horse block, but when once in the saddle 
 I will charge the enemy as fast as any youth. Glory to God! 
 neither sand nor saw-dust is falling from me yet. I won't 
 spy in the wilderness, as I'm not a scout, and I won't take 
 part in a raid against the Tartars; but if you stay near me in 
 a general action, you will see some great doings." 
 
 "Do you want to go into the field again?" 
 
 "Don't you think that after so many years of service I want 
 to seal my fame with a glorious death, and what better could 
 happen? Were you acquainted with Pan Dzyevyonkyevich ? 
 It is true he did not. look more than a hundred and forty 
 but he was really a hundred and forty-two, and still serving." 
 
 "He wasn't as old as that." 
 
 "Indeed he was! May I never move from this seat if he 
 wasn't! I am going to take part in this great war, and then 
 quit. I am in love with Basia, and I'm going with you to 
 Khreptyov." 
 
 The radiant Basia jumped up and hugged Zagloba, who 
 raised his head, saying: 
 
 "Closer, closer!" 
 
 For quite a little while Pan Michael thought over matters, 
 and finally he said: 
 
 "As the place is a perfect desert, it is impossible for us all 
 to go at once, for we should not be able to find even a 
 piece of a roof. I will go first, select a spot, and construct 
 a square with quarters for the soldiers and sheds for the 
 officers' fine horses so that they will not be exposed and 
 suffer from the change of climate; I will have some wells 
 dug, the roads opened, and the ravines cleared of murder- 
 jug outlaws. When all this is accomplished, I will send 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I73 
 
 you a good escort, and you may come to me. You may have 
 to stay here for about three weeks." 
 
 Basia was going to protest, but Zagloba, who recognized 
 Michael's wisdom, said: 
 
 "Wisdom is wisdom! We'll stay here Basia, and keep 
 house together, and we shall not be so badly off. We shall 
 have to make some preparations, too, and lay in supplies, 
 for you don't know it, but nowhere do mead and wine keep 
 so well as in caves." 
 
CHAPTER IL 
 
 Pan Michael kept his word; the buildings were finished in 
 three weeks and he sent a goodly escort, a hundred Lipkov 
 Tartars from Pan Lantskoronski's squadron, and a hundred 
 of Linkhauz's dragoons, led by Pan Snitko of the Hidden 
 Moon coat of arms. Setnik Azya Mellekhovich, a young man 
 a little over twenty and a Lithuanian Tartar himself, led the 
 Lipkovs. He carried the following letter from the little 
 knight to his wife: 
 
 "Bashka; my heart's beloved. You may come to me now, 
 for without you I am as though without bread; and, if I do 
 not waste away before you arrive, I will kiss your rosy little 
 mouth away. I have not stinted you with regard to your 
 escort of men and experienced officers; but give precedence in 
 everything to Pan Snitko, and count him as one of us, for he 
 is well-born, has estates, and is an officer. Mellekhovich is a 
 good soldier, but God only knows what is his origin. He 
 could not have become an officer in any but the Lipkov 
 militia, for all the others would have taunted him with his 
 obscure origin. I embrace you with all my strength. I kiss 
 your little hands and nose. I have built a fortalice with a 
 hundred loop-holes. It has enormous chimneys. You and I 
 will have some rooms in a separate building. The odor of 
 resin is over everything, and we have so many crickets that 
 in the evening when they begin to chirp they wake up the 
 dogs. If we had some pea-straw we could easily get rid of 
 them. Perhaps you will remember to have a little packed in 
 the wagons. We could get no glass here and so we had to 
 stuff the windows up with moss, but Pan Byaloglovski has a 
 glazier among his dragoons. You can buy glass from the 
 Armenians at Kamenets; but, for Heaven's sake! see that it 
 is handled with care so that it is not broken. I have fur- 
 nished your room with nigs, and it looks fairly well. I have 
 had nineteen of the outlaws, that we captured in the ravines, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I75 
 
 hanged, and the number will have reached thirty before you 
 arrive. Pan Snitko will tell you how we live here. I give 
 you into the care of God and the Most Holy Virgin, my own 
 beloved soul." 
 
 After reading this letter Basia handed it to Zagloba, who 
 began to pay more attention to Pan Snitko, as soon as he 
 had read it not so marked, however, as to allow the latter 
 to forget he was talking to a renowned soldier and an import- 
 ant individual who was familiar with him only by favor. Pan 
 Snitko had spent his entire life in the army, and was extremely 
 good-natured, jovial, and, moreover, a very efficient soldier. 
 He had a high respect for Pan Michael, and before Zagloba's 
 fame he felt quite insignificant, and had no idea of asserting 
 himself. 
 
 Mellekhovich did not wait for the letter to be read, but 
 after delivering it he immediately left the room, as if to 
 superintend his soldiers, but his real motive was to escape 
 being ordered to the servants' quarters. 
 
 However, Zagloba had had time to scrutinize him, and with 
 Pan Michael's words still fresh in his mind, he remarked to 
 Snitko: 
 
 "We are delighted to welcome you." 
 
 "I pray . . . Pan Snitko . . . the shield Hidden Moon 
 is a gem, I know it very well. . . But what is the name of 
 this Tartar?" 
 
 "Mellekhovich." 
 
 "Well, but this Mellekhovich reminds me somewhat of a 
 wolf. Michael writes he is of mysterious origin, which seems 
 strange, for, although they are Mohammedans, all of our 
 Tartars are noblemen. I have seen entire villages of them 
 in Lithuania. They are called there Lipkovs, but those here 
 are called Cheremis. They have served the Commonwealth 
 faithfully for a long time in return for their living; but dur- 
 ing the peasant incursion a good many of them joined . 
 Khmyelnitski, and I understand that they are beginning to 
 hold relations with the horde. . . . That Mellekhovich 
 certainly looks like a wolf. . . . How long has Pan Voldi- 
 yovski known him?" 
 
 "Since the last campaign," replied Pan Snitko, stretching 
 his legs under the table, "when we were out against Doro- 
 shenko and the horde with Pan Sobieski; they went together 
 through the Ukraine." 
 
 "Since the last campaign! I was not able to share that, 
 
1 76 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 for Sobieski gave me other duties, but after a time he missed 
 me. ... Your gem is the Hidden Moon. . . . Where 
 does this Mellekhovich come from?" 
 
 "He calls himself a Lithuanian Tartar; but I don't under- 
 stand why it is that none of the Lithuanian Tartars in his 
 own squadron know anything of his antecedents. This ex- 
 plains the stories of his mysterious origin, which even his 
 high and mighty manner has not succeeded in stopping. Al- 
 though he is badly spoen of, he is a good soldier. He did 
 such good service at Bkatslav and Kalnik that notwithstand- 
 ing he was the youngest man in the squadron, the Hetman 
 made him captain. He is much beloved by the Lipkovs, but 
 he gets no affection from us, and what is the reason? Because 
 he^is so dogged and, just as you say, reminds one of a wolf." 
 "I think if he is a famous soldier and has shed blood," said 
 Basia, "we ought to receive him among us, which my hus- 
 band did not forbid in his letter." 
 Turning to Pan Snitko, Basia said: 
 ; T)oes your lordship allow it?" 
 
 "I am the servant of my beneficent lady-colonel," replied 
 Snitko. 
 
 Basia left the room and Zagloba drew a long breath and 
 asked Pan Snitko: 
 
 "Well, how do you like the colonel's wife?" 
 Instead of replying, the veteran soldier gave a military 
 salute, and, leaning over, repeated: 
 "Ai! ai! ai!" 
 
 Then he stared and laid his large hand upon his mouth, 
 and said nothing, as if ashamed of his enthusiasm. 
 "Isn't she March-pane?" said Zagloba. 
 At this moment the "March-pane" returned, bringing Mel- 
 lekhovich, who seemed as frightened as a captured wild bird; 
 and said to him as they entered: 
 
 "We have heard of your brave exploits from my husband's 
 letter and from Pan Snitko, and we are pleased to make your 
 acquaintance. We invite you to join us, for dinner will soon 
 be served." 
 
 "Come nearer, I beg of you," said Zagloba. 
 ^ The young Tartar's dogged, yet handsome, face did not 
 light up with pleasure, but he was evidently grateful for his 
 welcome and his escape from the servants' quarters. 
 
 With a woman's instinct Basia had readily divined that 
 he was proud and sensitive, and that he often suffered acutely 
 
PA.N MICHAEL. 
 
 177 
 
 from his treatment on account of his mysterious origin, and 
 she had determined to show him kindness. Not making any 
 distinction between him and Pan Snijtko, except that which 
 the latter's age demanded, she began to question the young 
 captain about the services for which he had been promoted at 
 Kalnik. Pan Zagloba guessed Basia's wishes,, and talked to 
 him sufficiently; but Mellekhovich was very reserved in his 
 manner at first, although he replied to everything properly 
 and surprised them with his elegance of manner. 
 
 "His bearing shows that he cannot come of peasant blood," 
 said Zagloba to himself. Therefore he asked aloud: 
 
 "Where does your father live?" 
 
 "In Lithuania," answered Mellekhovich, turning red. 
 
 "Lithuania is a large place; you might as well have said 
 in the Commonwealth." 
 
 "It does not belong to the Commonwealth any longer; it 
 has seceded. My father has an estate near Smolensk." 
 
 "I also used to have considerable lands there, which I in- 
 herited from childless relatives; but I abandoned them for the 
 sake of the Commonwealth." 
 
 "I have done the same thing," answered Mellekhovich. 
 
 "That's very honorable," Basia interrupted. 
 
 But Snitko, who was listening attentively, shrugged his 
 shoulders as if to say: "God only knows who you are and 
 where you came from." 
 
 Pan Zagloba noticed this, and, turning to Mellekhovich, 
 asked: 
 
 "Do you confess Christ, or do you live I mean no offence 
 in wickedness?" 
 
 "I profess Christianity, and in consequence of this I was 
 obliged to leave my father." 
 
 "If that is the true reason, the Lord God will not forsake 
 you; the first thing he grants you is the privilege of drinking 
 wine, which you could not have if you had remained in sin." 
 
 Snitko smiled at this; but Mellekhovich instantly became 
 again reserved, for he shrank from all personal questions. 
 Pan Zagloba took little notice of him, principally because he 
 was not attracted by the young Tartar, who somehow re- 
 minded him in his movements and glance, although not in his 
 features, of Bohun, the famous Cossack chief. 
 
 Presently dinner was served. 
 
 Preparations for the road took up all the rest of the day. 
 They started at dawn, or rather, while it was still dark, so as 
 to make the journey to Khreptyov in one day. 
 
 
I7 8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Basia intended to take plenty of supplies to Khreptyov, 
 and so they had about a dozen wagons; camels and horses 
 staggering under their -heavy loads of dried meat and meal 
 followed them; and several dozen oxen of the steppe, and 
 chambuls (flocks) of sheep brought up the rear of the caravan. 
 Mellekhovich and his Lipkovs rode at the head; and Basia 
 and Zagloba sat in a covered wagon guarded by dragoons, who 
 rode beside it. Basia wanted to ride her own horse; but 
 the old nobleman dissuaded her from it during the first and 
 last part of the journey. 
 
 "If you would sit your horse quietly," he said, "I should 
 make no objections, but you would immediately want to show 
 off your horsemanship and make your horse prance, which 
 would not be becoming in the wife of a commander." 
 
 Basia was as gay and happy as a bird. Ever since her 
 marriage she had been possessed of two ambitions: the first 
 to give a son to the little knight; the second, to pass, if only 
 a year, with her husband at a stanitsa near the Wild Fields, to 
 live a soldier's life on the borders of the wilderness, taking 
 part in battles and adventures, seeing the steppes, and ex- 
 periencing the perils of which she had heard from infancy. 
 This had been one of her girlish dreams; and now it was to 
 be realized, with the additional delight of being with the man 
 she loved, the most celebrated warrior in the Commonwealth, 
 from whom, it was said, no enemy could escape. 
 
 The young commandress felt as though she had wings on 
 her shoulders and was so full of joy that she often wanted 
 to shout and jump; but the thought of dignity refrained her 
 from doing so, for she promised to be sedate so as to gain the 
 intense affection of the soldiers. She spoke of this intention 
 to Zagloba, who smilingly commended her, remarking: 
 
 "You will be the light of his eyes, and a great curiosity. 
 Women in a stanitsa are rare." 
 
 "If necessary I will be an example to the soldiers." 
 
 "In what?" 
 
 "Bravery. I am only afraid of one thing, and that is there 
 will be other stations in Mohilov and Rashkov and Yahorlik, 
 so far away from Khreptyov that we shall never get a dose of 
 the Tartars." 
 
 "And I am only afraid of this, not for myself, naturally, 
 but for you, that we shall have too much of the Tartars. Do 
 you imagine that the Chambuls always have to pass through 
 Bashkov and Mohilov? They can come into the Common- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ! 79 
 
 wealth any way fhey like, from the East, from the Steppes, 
 from the Moldavian borders of the Dniester, even by the 
 hills of Khreptyov, unless they know I have come to Khrept- 
 yoT; in that ease they'll stay away, for they'll remember me 
 well enough." 
 
 "Don't they know Michael? Will they not avoid him too?" 
 
 "They will avoid him unless they have overpowering num- 
 bers, which might be the case at any time. But he will go 
 for them." 
 
 "Oh, Fm sure of it. Is Khreptyov a real desert ? It is not 
 so far away." 
 
 "Nothing could be more of a desert. Even in my youth 
 it was never thickly settled around Khreptyov. I used to go 
 everywhere from farm to farm, village to village, town to 
 town, knew everything, was everywhere, and recollect the time 
 when the place called Ushytsa was a fortified town. I was 
 made chief there by Pan Konyetspolski, but it went to rack 
 and ruin after the mob attacked it. It was a perfect desert 
 when we went for Halshka Skshetuska, but since then Cham- 
 buls have twenty times travelled through it. ... Now 
 Pan Sobieski has snatched it from the Cossacks and Tartars 
 like a bone from a dog's mouth. . . . Only a few inhabi- 
 tants are there now, for the ravines are full of outlaws." . . . 
 
 Zagloba looked around him at the landscape, and, as mem- 
 ories flocked to his mind, he nodded his head. 
 
 "My God!" he exclaimed, "when we went for Halshka 1 I 
 thought that my belt encompassed old age; that happened 
 nearly twenty-four years ago, and now it seems to me as if I 
 was young in those days. Michael was only a beardless young- 
 ster, he had as many hairs on his lip as I have on my palm. 
 I remember this neighborhood just as if I had seen it yes- 
 terday. The only change is in these growths and pine forests, 
 which have grown up in the places where agriculture 
 thrived. . . . ' : 
 
 After passing Kitaygrod they entered the dense pine forests I 
 of that region. Occasionally they passed through fields, which 
 became more frequent especially near Studzyennitsa; and, 
 after that the border of the Dniester burst upon their vision 
 and the open country lay before them for a great distance, 
 from the river to the hills, with Moldavia on the horizon line. 
 
 1 Princess Helena the betrothed of^Sksheluski. (See " Fire and Sword," r. 
 iii, by the same author.) 
 
X MICHAEL. 
 
 The road was broken by deep gullies, tKe haunts of wild 
 beasts and men; some of these were narrow chasms, and some 
 of them were larger, the sides slightly sloping, and covered 
 with dense brushwood. Mellekhovich's Tartars picked their 
 way cautiously, and when the rear of the escort was still along 
 the high brink of the ravines, the caravan had already de- 
 scended, as it were underground. Basia and Zagloba fre- 
 quently had to get out of their wagon; for, although Pan 
 Michael had had the road put in a certain order, some of the 
 passes were unsafe. In the valleys below there were many 
 springs and murmuring stony brooks, which were fed in the 
 spring by the melting snows of the steppes. Although the 
 sun was warm upon the pine-woods and steppes, severe cold 
 still lurked in these rocky gorges, and the travellers were 
 seized unexpectedly. Pine-forests covered the rocky sides of 
 the ravines, the trees were especially tall and thick at the 
 edge of the precipices, as if they wanted to prevent the cold 
 valley from sharing the sun's golden rays; but in some of the 
 gorges, the trees had been felled and thrown upon each other 
 in wild disordered piles, with broken or twisted branches, 
 and covered with red leaves and pine needles. 
 
 "What became of the forest?" Basia asked Zagloba. 
 
 "Some of these trees may have been felled by the old in- 
 habitants, for protection against the horde, or they may have 
 been made by the outlaws against our men; the terrible Mol- 
 davian whirlwinds may be responsible for some places; there 
 is an old saying that vampires and even devils fight battles 
 in these whirlwinds." 
 
 "Have you ever seen devils fighting, sir?" 
 
 "No, I have never seen them, but I have heard them cry 
 'U-kha! U-kha!' to each other in play. Ask Michael about it, 
 he has heard them, too." 
 
 With all her courage, Basia was afraid of evil spirits, and 
 she made the sign of the cross. 
 
 "A horrible place!" she said. 
 
 Truly, it was horrible in some of these dark and awe-in- 
 spiring gorges. There was no wind to make the branches and 
 leaves rustle; the silence was broken only by the tramping 
 and snorting of the horses, the creaking wagons, and the 
 cries of the drivers when they came to dangerous places. 
 Sometimes the Tartars and Dragoons would begin to sing; 
 but the wilderness itself was not cheered by the voice of man 
 or beast. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. !8i 
 
 While these gorgos had been so gloomy, the highland, not- 
 withstanding its pine-forests, brought delight to everybody. 
 It was a beautiful, tranquil, autumnal day. From the cloud- 
 less expanse of heaven, the sun lavishly poured his beams on 
 forest, field, and rock. The pine-trees were reddish gold, and 
 the spider-webs on the branches of the trees, the reeds, and 
 grasses seemed woven out of the sunlight. As it was the 
 middle of October, many birds were beginning to migrate to 
 the Black Sea, and, therefore, storks, geese, and teal-ducks 
 were flying across the sky. 
 
 Far above in the blue sky, eagles, so dreaded by all fowls 
 of the air sailed with wide-spread wings, and hawks were 
 slowly circling on the watch for prey. Nor were there want- 
 ing among the tall grasses of the meadows many game-birds. 
 Every now and then a covey of partridges would rise in 
 front of the Tartar's horses; and Basia often saw bustards 
 standing like sentinels in the distance, the sight of which 
 made her cheeks flush and eyes sparkle. 
 
 Clapping her hands, she exclaimed: "I will go coursing 
 with Michael!" 
 
 "If your husband were a stay-at-home, you would soon turn 
 his beard gray," Zagloba remarked. "But I knew the man to 
 whom I married you. Some women would be grateful to me, 
 Eh?" 
 
 Basia kissed Zagloba first on one cheek and then on the 
 other, which greatly touched him: 
 
 "Loving heaiis are as dear to an old man as a chimney 
 corner." 
 
 Then he fell into a reverie, and added: 
 
 "It is strange that I have always been so fond of women; 
 I'm sure I couldn't tell why if I were forced to explain it, for 
 they are often wicked, false, and silly. . . . But because 
 they are helpless as children a man's heart goes out to them 
 when they are ill-treated. Will you embrace me attain, or 
 what?" 
 
 Basia gratified the old man's desire, for she was happy 
 enough to embrace the entire world, and they continued their 
 journey in good spirits. The progress was slow, for the oxen 
 in the rear could not walk very fast and it was unsafe to go 
 ahead and leave them with a small guard of men in this forest. 
 
 The land became more broken, the desert lonelier and the 
 gorges deeper as they approached ITshytsa. There were sev- 
 eral delays on the road on account of balking horses or break- 
 
1 82 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 downs. Sometimes, too, they lost the way, because, instead 
 of taking the road which once led to Mohilov, but which had 
 been closed for twenty years with forest growths, they had 
 to follow the recent trails made by the soldiers. This also 
 entailed an accident. 
 
 As Mellekhovich, who was in front of the Lipkovs, entered 
 one of the deep gorges, his horse stumbled on the slope and 
 fell on the rocky bottom, injuring the rider, whose head was 
 so badly cut that he was unconscious for quite a while. Ba- 
 sia ordered the Tartars to lay him in the wagon and to drive 
 carefully; she and Zagloba mo.unted horses which were led 
 by the guards. Whenever they came to a spring she made 
 them halt while she herself bound his head with cloths dipped 
 in the cold spring water. For a long time he lay still with 
 his eyes shut, but, finally, he opened them; and when Basia 
 leaned over him to inquire if he were feeling any better, he 
 made no reply, but took hold of her hand and pressed it to 
 his white lips. 
 
 After a minute he recovered consciousness and said in Little 
 Russian: 
 
 "Oh, well! I have not been so well for a long time." 
 
 The march occupied the entire day. At last the sun grew 
 large and red, and began to set behind the Moldavian border; 
 the Dnieper shone like a ribbon of fire, and from the wilder- 
 ness on the east darkness crept stealthily. 
 
 They were now not very far from Khreptyov, but they 
 halted for some time to give the horses a rest. 
 
 One by one the Dragoons began to intone their prayer; 
 and 'the Lipkov Tartars, having dismounted, spread their 
 sheep-skins on the ground, knelt upon them, turned their 
 faces to the east, and began to pray also. "Allah! Allah!" was 
 heard in all the ranks; then there was silence; and raising 
 their hands towards their faces with palms turned outwards 
 they continued their devout prayer in which the phrase 
 "Lohichmen ah lohichmen" was heard every now and then 
 like a sigh. The red glow of the sunset illuminated them; 
 a breeze sprang up from the west; and the trees began to rustle 
 as if they, too, wished to murmur a prayer to God who show- 
 ers his glittering stars in thousands upon the dark firmament. 
 Basia witnessed the Tartars at prayer with great interest; 
 but her heart was sad at the thought that these men who 
 seemed to live good and useful lives must go to the flames 
 of Hell, and although they came in daily contact with Chris- 
 tians, chose to harden their hearts to the true faith. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. X g 3 
 
 But Pan Zagloba, who was accustomed to this, shrugged 
 his shoulders at Basia's concern, and said: 
 
 "The reason that these billy goats can't enter Heaven is 
 that they might not introduce vermin there." 
 
 Zagloba's servant helped him to put on a coat lined with 
 worsted, which is a good protection against the chill of the 
 evening, and the order to move on was given, but the march 
 had barely started when five horsemen appeared in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 The Lipkovs immediately made way. 
 
 "Michael!'. 7 screamed Basia, as the first horseman galloped 
 up. 
 
 8 ure enough it was Volodiyovski who had come to meet his 
 wife with a small escort. 
 
 They dashed forward towards each other with joyous greet- 
 ings, after which they began to relate their adventures. 
 
 Basia described her journey and especially the accident 
 by which Pan Mellekhovich injured his head on the rocks. 
 The little knight described his work at Khreptyov, where he 
 said he had employed five hundred men for three weeks to 
 prepare dwellings in readiness for her. 
 
 Every few minutes as they talked Pan Michael leaned over 
 from his saddle to put his arm around his young wife; she 
 did not seem to be in the least annoyed at this, for she rode 
 so near him that the horses flanks almost touched. 
 
 They had nearly come to the end of the journey; and in 
 the meantime the beautiful night had fallen, and a large 
 golden moon rose from the steppes. As it ascended the sky, 
 however, it became paler and, after a while was nearly ob- 
 scure, on account of flames which were blazing up in the dis- 
 tance ahead of the caravan. 
 
 "What is that?" said Basia. 
 
 "You will find out," said Pan Volodiyovski, twisting his 
 moustache, "just as soon as we shall have passed through the 
 grove which separates us from Khreptyov." 
 
 "Have we got to Kreptyov already?" 
 
 "If it were not for the trees you would see it as plainly 
 as on your palm." 
 
 They had not gone half way through the grove before a 
 swarm of lights were seen at the further borders, like a 
 swarm of glow-worms or shining stars. But the lights came 
 nearer and nearer very rapidly; and in a few moments the 
 forest rang with shouts: 
 
* MICHAEL. 
 
 "Vivat our lady! Vivat her highness! Yivat our lady-com- 
 mander! Yivat, vivat!'' 
 
 Hundreds of soldiers had come to welcome Basia. In a 
 few moments they joined the Lipkovs. Each held a long pole 
 with a candle in the cleft end. Some had iron torch-holders 
 on pikes, from which the resin fell in blazing drops. 
 
 In a short time Basia was surrounded by a crowd of 
 moustached faces, which, although wild and strange, seemed 
 aglow with delight. Basia was unknown to most of them, 
 and, as they had expected to see a rather mature lady, they 
 were overjoyed at the -sight of the young girl on her white 
 palfrey; with her beautiful high color and her joyous smiles, 
 bowing her thanks on all sides for this unexpected reception. 
 
 "Gentlemen, I thank you," she began, "I know that this 
 is not in my honor, . . . " 
 
 But her silvery tones were drowned by the soldiers' vivats, 
 and again the forest trembled with shouts. 
 
 The officers of the General of Podolia, and of the under- 
 chamberlain of Pshemysl, the Cossacks of Motovidlo, the 
 Lipkov, and Cheremi Tartars pressed forward in a mass. 
 Everybody wanted to have a good look at the lady-colonel, 
 and to get near her; some of the most enthusiastic among 
 them kissed the hem of her skirt, or her foot in the stirrup. 
 The sight of a lady so novel to these half wild raiders, inured 
 to bloodshed, carnage, and man-trapping that their hard 
 hearts were touched and a new and strange feeling was kin- 
 dled in their breasts. Out of affection to Volodiyovski they 
 had come to give her welcome, hoping to please and natter 
 him; but all of a sudden their hearts were melted. Her sweet, 
 smiling, innocent face, aglow with excitement, and her shi- 
 ning eyes, they loved at first sight. "She is our dear child!" 
 cried the old Cossacks, those true wolves of the steppes. "Pan 
 Colonel, she is a cherub!" "She is the dawn!" "She is a 
 lovely little flower!" the officers shouted. "We will all die 
 for her!" . . . The Cheremis smacked their lips, placed 
 their hands on their broad breasts and called "Allah! Allah!" 
 
 Volodiyovski was both deeply moved and delighted; he 
 looked .happy and proud of his Basia, 
 
 The shouting never ceased. Finally the caravan issued 
 from the forest and the new-comers saw on the high ground 
 before them a circle of substantial wooden buildings. The 
 stanitsa of Khreptyov was seen just as well as if it had been 
 daylight, for enormous bon-fires of great logs were burning 
 
PAX MICHAEL. I( S 5 
 
 within the stockade. Others, too small to st fire to the 
 buildings, wort 1 dotted about the square. 
 
 The soldiers extinguished their torches; and then they all 
 drew forth a musket, gun, or pistol, and fired a salute in 
 honor of the lady. 
 
 The musicians now approached: the hand with its crooked 
 horns, the Cossacks with their trumpets, drums, and many 
 stringed-instruments, and finally the Lipkovs with their cus- 
 tomary Tartar instruments. The lowing of the frightened 
 cattle and the barking of the dogs added still more to the 
 noise. 
 
 The convoy had now retired to the rear while Basia rode 
 in front, with her husband on one side and Zagloba on the 
 other. Above the gate, which was gracefully decorated with 
 boughs of fir, bladders were hung, lighted from within and 
 bearing the inscription in black letters: 
 
 "May Cupid lavish on you many happy moments! 
 
 Dear guests, crescite, multiplicamini !" 
 "Vivant floreant!" 
 
 The soldiers shouted as the little knight and Basia stopped 
 to read these words of greeting. 
 
 "For God's sake!" Zagloba cried, "Fm also a guest, but 
 if you refer to me in that wish for multiplication, may the 
 crows peck me if I know what to reply. 77 
 
 But there was a separate lantern for Fan Zagloba himself 
 and he read it with no small amount of pleasure: 
 
 "Long live our great and famous Onufry Zagloba, 
 The greatest ornament of the Polish knighthood." 
 
 Fan Michael was radiantly happy; he invited the officers 
 and companions to take supper with him, and gave orders 
 that many kegs of liquor should be given to the soldiers. 
 Several bullocks fell, which were immediately roasted at the 
 bon-fires. Everybody was lavishly provided for; and far into 
 the night the stanitsa resounded with shouts and gun-shots, 
 which greatly alarmed the outlaws who lay hiding in the 
 gorges of Ushytsa, 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Volodiyovski wasted no time in his stanitsa and kept his 
 men constantly at work. A hundred, or sometimes fewer, 
 were kept to garrison Khreptyov and the rest were continu- 
 ally employed on expeditions. The larger bodies were sent 
 to clear the ravines of Ushysta, and their days were spent in 
 almost perpetual warfare, for bands of robbers,, often very 
 numerous, offered a stubborn resistance, and on more than 
 one occasion it was necessary to fight a pitched battle with 
 them. These expeditions lasted for days and sometimes for 
 weeks. Pan Michael sent scouting-parties as far as Bratslav 
 for intelligence of the horde and Doroshenko. Their duty 
 was to return with men who could give information, and 
 these they had to capture on the steppes. Some descended 
 the Dniester to Mohilov and Yampol, to keep in touch with 
 the commander of those places; some kept watch on the Mol- 
 davian border, and others built bridges and repaired the old 
 road. 
 
 The country, in which such active measures were taken, 
 was not long in becoming pacified. The more peaceful and 
 less predatory portion of the inhabitants gradually returned 
 to their deserted dwellings, at first in stealth, and then more 
 boldly. A few Jewish traders came to Khreptyov; sometimes 
 a richer Armenian merchant arrived, and shop-keepers began 
 to pay more frequent visits. Pan Michael therefore had well- 
 ! founded hopes that, if God and the Hetman would allow him 
 to stay longer in his command, the country which had be- 
 come desolate would soon assume another garb. The work 
 had scarcely begun yet; there was still a great deal to be done; 
 the roads were not yet safe; the demoralized inhabitants fra- 
 ternized more willingly with robbers than with the soldiers, 
 and at the least provocation, hid themselves in the rocky 
 ravines; the fords of the Dniester were often stealthily cros- 
 sed by bands composed of Wallachians, Cossacks, Hungarians, 
 Tartars, and God knows who. These bands raided the 
 (186) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. iSj 
 
 country, attacking towns and villages in the Tartar way, seiz- 
 ing everything they could lay their hands on; for some time 
 yet it would not be possible to lay aside the sword in that 
 district, or to hang up the musket; but a beginning had been 
 made and the future looked very promising. 
 
 It was necessary to keep sharp watch towards the East. 
 For from Doroshenko's following and his allied chambuK 
 larger or smaller bodies were detached from time to time, and 
 attacking the Polish forces they laid waste the surrounding 
 districts with fire and sword. But since these were independ- 
 ent marauders, or at least appeared so, the little knight broke 
 them up without fear of bringing down a greater tempest on 
 the land; and without ceasing his attempts to make head 
 against them, he hunted them in the steppes with such effect, 
 that before long he made the most audacious unwilling to 
 attack him. 
 
 In the meantime, Basia was the manager at Khreptyov. 
 
 She was greatly pleased with this military life, which never 
 before had she seen so closely the stir, the marches and 
 counter-marches, the expeditions, and the sight of prisoners. 
 She told Part Michael that she must share in at least one ex- 
 pedition, but for the present, she had to satisfy herself with 
 occasionally mounting her horse and visiting the neighbor- 
 hood of Khreptyov in company with her husband and Pan 
 Zagloba. On these occasions she hunted foxes and bustards; 
 occasionally a fox would spring out of the grass and dart along 
 the valley. Then they would hunt him, Basia doing her best 
 to keep ahead, immediately behind the hounds, so as to be the 
 first to spring on the jaded animal and discharge her pistol 
 between his fiery eyes. 
 
 Pan Zagloba much preferred to hunt with falcons, several 
 very good ones of which were possessed by the officers. 
 
 Basia also accompanied him, but Pan Michael, unknown to 
 her, had her followed by a few dozen men to render aid in 
 case of need. For though in Khreptyov they were always 
 well posted as to the movements in the wilderness for twenty 
 miles around, still Pan Michael preferred to be cautious. The 
 soldiers daily became fonder of Basia, for she was attentive in 
 the matter of their rations and nursed the sick and wounded. 
 Even the sullen Mellekhovich, who suffered from continuous 
 headache and whose heart was more savage and rugged than 
 the others, brightened up at her sight. Old soldiers went 
 into raptures over her knightly daring and familiarity with 
 military matters. 
 
jgg fAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "If the Little Falcon were away," they exclaimed, "She 
 might assume command and it would not be hard to fall undei 
 such a leader." 
 
 Sometimes, moreover, it happened when some disturbances 
 arose among the men during the absence of Volodiyovski, 
 Basia would grumble at them, and obtained immediate sub- 
 mission; veterans cared more for a reproof from her lips than 
 for any punishment which the strict Pan Michael relentlessly 
 imposed for any breach of duty. 
 
 Strict discipline always reigned, for Pan Michael, trained 
 in the school of Prince Yeremy, knew how to rule soldiers 
 with an iron hand; and besides this, Basia's presence some- 
 what softened their wild ways. They all tried to please her 
 and cared for her peace and comfort, avoiding everything 
 that might worry her. 
 
 In the light cavalry of Pan Mikolay Pototski, there were 
 many courtly and experienced officers who, although they 
 had become rough through constant warfare and expeditions, 
 were still a pleasant set of fellows. In company with officers 
 of other squadrons they often spent a pleasant evening with 
 the Colonel, relating their past exploits and battles in which 
 they had taken part. First among these was Pan Zagloba. 
 He was older than any; he had seen more and shown more; 
 but when after one or two goblets he dozed comfortably in a 
 padded chair, purposely .brought for him, others would begin. 
 They also had experiences to relate, for some among them 
 had visited Sweden and Moscow; some had spent their early 
 years at the Sich, in the time of Khmyelnitski; some had 
 herded sheep in the Crimea in captivity; others as slaves, had 
 dug wells in Bakhche Serai; or had visited Asia Minor, or 
 rowed Turkish galleys through the Archipelago, or had pros- 
 trated themselves before Christ's sepulchre, undergoing every 
 adventure and hardship, and yet again appearing beneath the 
 flag to defend these borders soaked with blood to their last 
 day and with their last breath. 
 
 In November, as the evenings lengthened and peace reigned 
 on the edge of the wide steppes, for the grass had now 
 withered, they would assemble every day at the Colonel's 
 quarters. Hither came Pan Motovidlo, the leader of the 
 Semenov Cossacks, a Russian by birth, with a figure as thin 
 as a pair of tongs and as tall as a lance. His youth was be- 
 hind him, for he had kept the field for more than twenty 
 years, Hither too came Pan Deyma ? the brother of him who 
 
PAN MICHAEL. jgg 
 
 had alain Pan Ubysh; and Pan Mushalski, who had once been 
 wealthy, but being captured in youth, had pulled an oar in a 
 Turkish galley, and escaping from captivity had turned his 
 property over to others, and sword in hand, was avenging his 
 injuries on the followers of Mohammed. He was a matchless 
 archer, and at will, could transfix a heron with an arrow on its 
 lofty flight. Thither also came the two Chiefs Pan Vilga 
 and Pan Nyenashinyets, mighty warrriors, and Pan Hromyka 
 and Pan Bavdynovich, and many others. When they began 
 to tell tales, and warm up in their talk, the whole of the East 
 was pictured in their narratives Bakhche Serai and 
 Stambul, the minarets and mosques of the false Prophet, the 
 blue waters of the Bosphorus, the fountains and the Sultan's 
 palace, the throngs of people in the City of Stone, the soldiers, 
 the janissaries, the dervishes and the whole of that terrible 
 swarm of locusts, many-hued as a rain-bow, against which the 
 Commonwealth with bleeding breast was defending the Rus- 
 sian Cross, and consequently all the crosses and churches of 
 Europe. 
 
 The old warriors sat around the large room in a circle, like 
 a flock of storks who, wearied with flight, had alighted on 
 some bank in the steppes and were making a noisy clucking. 
 
 Pine logs were burning on the hearth, casting bright re- 
 flections throughout the room. By Basia's orders, attend- 
 ants warmed Moldavian wine at the fire and ladled it out to 
 the knights. The cries of the sentries were heard outside; 
 the crickets, of which Pan Michael had complained, were 
 chirping in the room, and in the cracks that were stuffed with 
 moss the November wind from the North blew more and 
 more coldly. When it was so cold, it was delightful to sit in 
 a comfortable., well-lighted room, and hear the experiences of 
 the knights. 
 
 One evening, Pan Mushalski began as follows: 
 
 "May the Most High have the whole sacred Commonwealth 
 in his keeping, and all of us, and more especially the lady hero 
 present, the gracious wife of our commander, on whose loveli- 
 ness our blind eyes are unworthy to rest. I have no desire to 
 rival Pan Zagloba, whose adventures would have been marvel- 
 lous, even in the eyes of Dido herself and her charming 
 maidens, but if you gentlemen can spare the time to hear my 
 adventures, I will not be long-winded, for fear of boring this 
 honorable company." 
 
 "In my young days, I inherited a considerable estate near 
 
I go TAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Tarashch, in the Ukraine. My mother left me two villages 
 in a quiet district near Yaslo, but I preferred to live on my 
 father's estate, as it was nearer the Horde and more exposed 
 to adventure. I was attracted towards the Sich by the 
 cavalier spirit, but there was nothing for us there then; in 
 company with other restless spirits, therefore, I went to the 
 Steppes and enjoyed myself immensely. It was pleasant 
 enough on my own estates; there was only one thing that 
 greatly troubled me, a disagreeable neighbor. He was a com- 
 mon peasant and came from Byalotserkov, having been at 
 the Sich in his early years, where he rose to the rank of 
 Kurzen Ataman, and acted as an envoy from the Cossacks to 
 Warsaw, where he was ennobled. Didyuk was his name. 
 You must know, gentlemen, that we derived our origin from 
 a certain chief of the Samnites, called Musca, which in our 
 language means a fly. This Musca after various futile at- 
 tempts against the Romans came to the court of Zyemyovit, 
 the son of Piast, who, for the sake of greater convenience, 
 called him Muscalski, which his descendants afterwards 
 changed to Mushalski. Knowing that I came of such noble 
 blood, I regarded that Didyuk with great abomination. If 
 the low fellow had known how to respect his honor and to 
 recognize the exalted rank of a noble, I should have had no- 
 thing to say. But he who held lands as a noble, made a mock 
 of the dignity, and often said, 'Is my shadow any greater than 
 it used to be? A Cossack I was and a Cossack I will remain; 
 but, as for nobility and all you Poles . . . that's the way I 
 regard you.' Gentlemen, I cannot describe to you here with 
 what a vile gesture he accompanied his words, since the pres- 
 ence of her ladyship forbids it; but it enraged me and I began 
 to antagonize him. It did not frighten him, for he was a dar- 
 ing character and paid me smart-money. I would have at- 
 tacked him with a sword, but did not like to, on account of his 
 low blood. I hated him like a pestilence, and he venomously 
 hunted me. Once in the market-place of Tarashch, he fired 
 and only missed me by a hair, and in return I split his head 
 open with a hatchet. Twice I attacked his place with my 
 followers, and twice he assaulted mine with his bandits. 
 Neither of us could get the better of the other. I wanted to 
 set the law in motion against him, but bah! what law is there 
 in the Ukraine, when the smoking ruins of towns are still to 
 be seen. He who can gather together a band of villains in 
 the Ukraine may scorn the whole Commonwealth. That's 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I9 ! 
 
 what he did, and blasphemed the name of our common 
 mother, not considering for a moment, that by ennobling 
 him, she had taken him to her breast and endowed him with 
 privileges, by virtue of which he owned estates, and with that 
 perfect liberty which he could not have enjoyed under any 
 other dominion. If we could have met as neighbors, I could 
 have argued with him, but we only saw each other with a gun 
 in one hand and a fire-brand in the other. My hatred for 
 him increased daily till my face became yellow. One sole 
 thought possessed me, that was, to get possession of him. 
 However, I realized that hatred was a sin and, to requite all 
 his insults to our nobility, my only desire was to lacerate his 
 skin with rods, and then, forgiving all his sins, as became a 
 true Christian, merely to order him to be shot " 
 
 "But the Almighty ordained otherwise." 
 
 "Outside the village I owned a fine bee-farm, and one day I 
 went to look at it. Evening was coming on. I remained 
 there for the space of almost ten 'paters," when I heard a 
 noise. I looked around; smoke hung above the village like 
 a cloud. In another minute people came running towards 
 me, crying, "The Horde, the Horde'/ And right behind 
 the people a multitude was advancing. Arrows were falling 
 as thick as rain-drops, and in every direction sheepskin coats 
 and the devilish snouts of the Horde were to be seen. I, to 
 my horse. But before I could get my foot in the stirrup, five 
 or six lassos were about me. I struggled, for I was powerful 
 at that time .... Nee Hercules!. . . Three months later, 
 in company with other captives, I found myself in a Tartar 
 village called Suhaydzig beyond Bakhche-Serai." 
 
 "My master's name was Salma Bey. He was a wealthy 
 Tartar, but a savage man and cruel to captives. With whips 
 we were driven to work in the fields and to dig wells. I 
 wanted to ransom myself, for I was able to do so. By the 
 medium of a certain Armenian, I sent letters to the holders of 
 my estate, near Yaslo. Whether the letters were delivered, 
 or the ransom intercepted, I know not, it is sufficient that it 
 did not arrive. . . . They carried me to Tsarogrod and sold 
 me to the galleys. 
 
 "There is much to say about that city, for I doubt if in all 
 the world there is one finer or larger. There, people are as 
 numerous as grass on the steppes or stones in the Dniester. . . 
 The walls are grim and embattled, tower on tower. Dogs 
 wander about the city mingling with the people in the parks; 
 
jg 2 PAX 
 
 they are not interfered with by the Turks, and it i.5 therefore 
 obvious that they feel themselves rebiled to them, being dog- 
 brothers themselves. Among them there are no ranks but 
 nobles and slaves, and nothing more dreadful can be imagined 
 than captivity among the Infidels. Heaven only knows 
 whether it is true, but in the galleys I heard that those waters 
 including the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn which flows to 
 the heart of the City, have been produced by the tears of cap- 
 tives. Not a few of my own fell there. 
 
 "Awful is the Turkish Dominion, and no potentate has so 
 many subject kings as the Sultan. The Turks themselves 
 say if it had not been for Lekhistan (the name they give our 
 mother-country) they would long since have been masters of 
 the whole world. 'Behind the Polish shoulders/ they say, 
 'the rest of the world dwells under injustice;' for the Pole lies 
 in front of the cross like a dog and bites our hands/ And 
 they are right, for so it was and so it is. . . Here in Khreptyov 
 and the more distant posts of Mohilov, Yampol, and Rashkov, 
 what else are we doing? There is an enormous amount of 
 wickedness in our Commonwealth, but some day I think that 
 God will take into account these, our deeds, and perhaps men 
 will also. 
 
 "But to return to what occurred to me. The captives who 
 are kept on shore in towns and villages groan under less suf- 
 fering than those at the oars in galleys. For when once the 
 galley-slaves have been riveted to the bench beside the oars 
 they are never released neither night nor day, nor on feast- 
 days; there they must live in chains till they die; and if the 
 galley sinks in a battle, they too must sink with it. They are 
 all 'naked, they are frozen with cold and soaked with rain, 
 they are pinched with hunger, and for all this there is no 
 remedy, but tears and dreadful labor, for the oars are so large 
 and heavy that it takes two men to work one of them. . . . 
 
 "They took me there at night and riveted my chains in 
 front of some companion in misfortune, whom I could not re- 
 cognize in the darkness. When I heard the blows of the ham- 
 mer, and the sound of the shackles, Great God! it sounded 
 to me as if they were driving nails into my coffin, and even 
 that, I should rather have preferred. I prayed, but in my 
 heart hope was as though it had been blown away by the wind. 
 Akavadji silenced my moans with blows and I sat all night, 
 till dawn. . . Then I glanced at the man who bad to help me 
 work the oar. Dear Jesus Christ! Guess who was in front of 
 me? It was Didyuk! 
 
PAN MICHAEL. jg-j 
 
 "I recognized him immediately, although he was naked 
 and emaciated and his beard reached to his belt, for it 
 was long since he had been sold to the galleys. . . We gazed 
 at each other, and he recognized me. . . We did not address 
 a word to each other. . . Think what had happened to us. . . 
 And yet, so great was our mutual rancour that not only did 
 we not greet each other, but hatred flamed up anew in our 
 hearts, and each gloated over the thought that his foe had to 
 suffer the same as himself. . . The galley started on its voy- 
 age that same day. It was strange to pull the same oar with 
 your greatest foe; to eat from the same dish with him food 
 which even the dogs would not touch at home, to bear the 
 same tyranny, to breathe the same air, to suffer and weep side 
 by side. . . We rowed through the Hellespont and then the 
 Archipelago. . . There are islands upon islands, and all 
 under Turkish dominion. . . Both shores likewise, . . . the 
 whole world. It was very hard. By day the heat was inde- 
 scribable. The sun burned with sufti power that the water 
 seemed to be aflame with it, and when that fire begun to 
 tremble and leap on the waves, you would have said that a 
 fiery rain was coming down. We were drowned in perspir- 
 ation and our tongues clove to the roofs of our mouths. . . . 
 At night the cold bit us like a dog. . . There was no relief 
 anywhere nothing, but suffering, grief for lost happiness, 
 pangs, and torments. Words cannot express it. . . In one 
 place in the land of Greece, from the vessel, we caught sight 
 of the celebrated ruins of a temple erected by the Greeks in 
 ancient days. Column stands beside column looking like 
 gold, the marble is so yellow with age. It stood out sharply, 
 as it was on a steep height, and there the sky is as blue as 
 turquoise. . . After that we sailed around the Peloponesus. 
 Day after day and week after week passed on without Didyuk 
 and myself exchanging a single word, for our hearts were still 
 full of pride and hostility. . . But under the hand of God 
 we slowly began to break down. With excessive labor and 
 changes of temperature the sinful flesh begun to fall from our 
 bones; the wounds caused by the lash festered in the sun. 
 All night we prayed for death. When I fell into a light doze, 
 I could hear Didyuk cry, 'Christ, have mercy! Most pure and 
 holy, have mercy! let me die! 7 He also could hear and see 
 me stretch forth my hands to the Mother of God and her 
 Child. . . And this is how it cnme to pass that the sea wind 
 seemed to have blown the hatred out of our hearts, , . It 
 13 
 
I94 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 constantly grew less and less. . . At last, after weeping over 
 myself, I came to weep over him. We then came to regard 
 each other with changed eyes. Bah ! we began to assist each 
 other. When I would be overcome with sweat and mortal 
 weariness, he would row alone. When he fell into the same 
 condition I did the same for him. . . When they brought us 
 a mess, each one wanted the other to have it; but, gentlemen, 
 see how strange is man's nature! Speaking plainly we already 
 loved one another and yet neither wanted to be the first to say 
 the word. . . The rascal, the old Ukraine spirit. The change 
 only came when matters were becoming dreadfully hard for 
 us, and they said, 'to-morrow we shall come across the Vene- 
 tian fleet/ Moreover, provisions were scarce and we were 
 deprived of almost everything except the lash. Night came, 
 we were faintly moaning, and in our different ways were pray- 
 ing more earnestly than ever. By the light of the moon I 
 could see the tears running down his beard in streams. My 
 heart smote me. I saM: 'Didyuk, we come from the same 
 locality; let us forgive each other!' When he heard this, 
 great God! How he did sob and strain at his chains till they 
 clanked! We fell into one another's arms across the oar and 
 kissed and wept over each other. I can't tell you how long 
 we were clasped in each other's arms, for we had forgotten 
 ourselves, and shook with sobs." 
 
 At this point, Pan Mushalski stopped and passed his hand 
 across his eyes. A moment's silence ensued and the cold 
 north wind was heard whistling between the cracks of the 
 beams, while the fire crackled and the crickets chirped in the 
 room. Then Pan Mushalski gasped, drew a long breath and 
 proceeded: 
 
 "As you will see, the Lord God blessed us and showed his 
 favor to us in the end, but we paid dearly for our brotherly 
 affection at the time. As we were embracing, we tangled up 
 the chains, so that we could not disentangle them. The over- 
 seers came, first they separated us, then the lash was laid 
 across our backs for more than an hour. They struck us 
 without caring where, the blood flowed both from me and 
 Didyuk and mingled in one stream as it trickled to the sea. 
 But that is nothing, it's all over now, Glory be to God! . . . 
 
 "From that moment it never again came into my head that 
 I was a descendant of the Samnites and he a recently-ennobled 
 peasant from Byalotserkov. I could not have loved my own 
 brother more than I loved him. I should not have cared 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I95 
 
 even if he had not been ennobled, though of course, I would 
 rather that he should be one; and to the same degree that he 
 had formerly requited my hatred he now returned me love 
 and with interest. That was his nature. . . . 
 
 "The next day there was a battle. The Venetians dispersed 
 our fleet to the four winds. Our galley was terribly injured 
 by a culverin, and sought refuge at a little desert island, 
 which was nothing more than a rock protruding from the K&\. 
 We had io make repairs; and, because all the soldiers had 
 perished and we were short of hands, the officers had to un- 
 chain us and give us axes. Immediately upon landing I 
 looked at Didyuk, but the same thought had occurred to him. 
 'Immediately?' he asked me. 'Immediately/ I said, and 
 without any further thought I struck the chubach across the 
 head and Didyuk served the captain in the same way. Then 
 the others rose with us like a flame. In an hour we had made 
 Ian end of the Turks. Then we made some kind of repairs to 
 the galley, took our seats in it, unshackled, and the God of 
 Mercy commanded the breezes to waft us to Venice. 
 
 "We gained the Commonwealth by begging our way. I 
 shared my estate at Yaslo with Didyuk, and together we 
 again sought the field to make reprisals for our tears and our 
 blood. In the days of Podhayets, Did}Oik traversed the Sich 
 to join Sirka and accompanied him to the Crimea. Their 
 deeds and exploits there are well known to you gentlemen! 
 
 "On his way back, Didyuk, glutted with vengeance, was 
 slain by an arrow. Then I only was left, and every time I 
 bend a bow, I do it for him, and among the present worthy 
 company there are witnesses who can testify that on more 
 than one occasion I have gladdened his spirit in that manner." 
 
 Here Pan Mushalski ended. Again all was silence, but for 
 the howling of the north wind and the crackling of the flames. 
 The old warrior fixed his eyes on the blazing logs and after a 
 protracted silence concluded as follows : 
 
 "We have had Nalevayko and Loboda; we have had 
 Khmyelnitski and now we have Dorosh; the earth has not 
 drunk up all the blood. We are in the midst of strife and 
 struggle and yet God has sown some seeds of love in our 
 hearts and they lie in barren ground, so to speak, till under 
 the tyranny and lash of the pagan, or under Tartar captivity, 
 they unexpectedly bring forth fruit." 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense," suddenly cried Zagloba, as he awoke. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1 
 
 Mellekhovich was slowly recovering but, as he did not join 
 in any expeditions, and was confined to his own room, no 
 one paid any attention to him. But suddenly something oc- 
 curred that attracted everybody's attention to him. 
 
 Pan Motovidlo's Cossacks captured a Tartar who wa.s 
 hanging about the Stanitsa in a suspicious manner, and 
 brought him to Khreptyov. After a searching examination 
 of the captive, he turned out to be a Lipkov Tartar, but one 
 of those who had broken their fealty and deserted the Com- 
 monwealth to reside in the Sultan's dominions. He came 
 from the other side of the Dniester and had a letter for 
 Mellekhovich from Krychinski. 
 
 This greatly troubled Pan Volodiyovski, who immediately 
 called a council of his chiefs. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "you are all aware of how many 
 Lipkov Tartars, even of those who have lived for time out 
 of mind in Lithuania and here in Russia, have now joined 
 the Horde, requiting the kindness of the Commonwealth 
 with treason. We therefore ought not to put too much trust 
 in any one of them, and should keep a watchful eye upon all 
 their doings. There is also a small squadron of Lipkov Tar- 
 tars, numbering one hundred and fifty good cavalry, led by 
 Mellekhovich. I have not long been acquainted with Mellek- 
 hovich; I only know that the Hetman made him a captain 
 for his great services, and sent him here with his men. It 
 was, moreover, surprising to me, that not one of you had 
 known or heard of him before he took service. . . The 
 j fact that he is greatly loved and blindly obeyed by our Tar- 
 tars I have accounted for by his courage and great exploits; 
 but even they do not know who he is or whence he came. 
 Trusting in the Hetman's recommendations, I have not 
 hitherto been suspicious of him, nor have I watched him, 
 though he surrounds himself with a certain amount of mys- 
 tery. Some people have strange fancies, and as for me, it 
 is not my business so long as every man performs his duty. 
 (196) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. I 97 
 
 But you see, Pan Motovidle's men have captured the Tartar 
 who is the bearer of the letter to Mellckovich from Kry- 
 chinski, and gentlemen, 1 am not aware whether you know 
 who Krychinski is." 
 
 Pan Nyenashinyets exclaimed, "I am personally acquainted 
 with Krychinski, and of course his evil notoriety has made 
 his name familiar to us all." 
 
 "We went to school together . . . " Pan Zagloba was 
 beginning; but recollecting that, in that case, Krychinski 
 must be ninety years of age, and that men did not usually 
 fight at that age, he stopped short. 
 
 "In a word," the little knight continued, "Krychinski is a 
 Polish Tartar. He was colonel in one of our Tartar regi- 
 ments, but 'he betrayed his country, and went over to the 
 Dobnidja Horde, where I hear he has gained great influence, 
 for there they are evidently in hopes that he will be able to 
 induce the rest of the Lipkovs to join the Pagans. It is 
 will i this kind of man that Mellekhovich has entered into 
 communication, the best proof of which is this letter, the 
 substance of which is as follows:" 
 
 The little knight opened the letter, struck it with his hand, 
 and commenced reading: 
 
 "Dearly Beloved Brother of my soul: Your messenger 
 came to us and delivered a letter. . . , 
 
 "He writes in Polish/ 'interrupted Zagloba. 
 
 "Like the rest of our Tartars, Krychinski is only ac- 
 quainted with Russian and Polish," said the little knight, 
 "and Mellekhovich also will certainly not gnaw in Tartar. 
 Listen, gentlemen, and don't interrupt:" 
 
 "God grant that all may be well, and that you may succeed 
 in all your desires. We often consult here with Moravski, 
 Alexsandrovich, Tarasovski and Grokholski and communi- 
 cate with other brethren to obtain their advice also as to the 
 means by which all that thou, beloved, desirest may be 
 brought about with least delay. We received news of how 
 you have 'suffered in health, and so I send a man ; to see 
 for himself how you are, and bring us good news. Be care- 
 ful to keep the matter secret, for God forbid that it should 
 prematurely come to light! May God multiply your descend- 
 ants like the stars in the sky!" Krychinski." 
 
 Pan Michael concluded, and gazed at those present, and, as 
 they kept silent, evidently meditating on the contents of the 
 letter, he said: 
 
I9 g l'A\ MICHAEL. 
 
 "Tarasovski, Moravski, (Irokliolski, and Alekeaudrovich, 
 were all formerly Tartar captains and iniitors."' 
 
 "So arc Poturzynski, Tvorovski and Adurovich," added 
 Pan Snitko. 
 
 "What have yon to say to this letter?" 
 
 "Manifest .treason, there's no doubt about that/' said Pan 
 Mushalski. "He is merely plotting with Mellekhovich to 
 bring over our Lipkov Tartars to their side." 
 
 "By God, what danger this command is in!" cried several 
 voices. "The Lipkovs would give their very souls for Mel- 
 lekhovich, and, if he bids it, they will attack us at night." 
 
 "The blackest treason under the sun !" cried Pan Deyma. 
 
 "And it was the Hetman himself who made a captain of 
 this Mellekhovich!" cried Pan Mushalski. 
 
 "Pan Snitko," said Zagloba, "what did I say when I first 
 saw Mellekhovich? Did not I say that he had the eyes of 
 a renegade and a traitor? Oh, a single glance was enough for 
 me. Anyone else he might deceive, but not me. Pan Snitko, 
 repeat what I said, but do not alter my words. Did not 
 I proclaim him a traitor?" 
 
 Pan Snitko drew his legs under the bench and thrust out 
 his head: 
 
 "In truth your lordship's farsightedness is to. be marvelled 
 at; truth is truth. I do not recollect your lordship calling 
 him a traitor. Your lordship only said that he glared with 
 the eyes of a wolf." 
 
 "Ha, ha! then, you hold that a dog is a traitor, and a wolf 
 is not; that a wolf is not in the habit of biting the hand that 
 caresses and feeds him! Then a dog is a traitor! Perhaps 
 you will still stand up for Mellekhovich and make out that 
 all the rest of us are traitors!" 
 
 Thus confounded, Pan Snitko opened his eyes and mouth 
 wide and was too surprised to say another word for many 
 minutes. 
 
 Meantime, Pan Mushalski, who was quick at coming to a 
 decision, said, "We should first thank the Almighty for re- 
 vealing such damnable plots and then send for six dragoons 
 to put a bullet through Mellekhovich's head." 
 
 "And appoint another setnik," added Nyenashinyets. 
 
 "The treason of that is so manifest that one can not be 
 silent about it." 
 
 "First," continued Pan Michael, " we must examine Mel- 
 lekhovich and then advise the Hetman of these plots, for, 
 
as Pan Bogush from Zienbiis informed me, the Lipkovs are 
 great favorites with the Crown Muivhal.' 1 
 
 "But, sir!" said Pan Molovkllo, turning to the little knight, 
 "a general court-marl ial will he more than Mcllekhovich is 
 entitled to, as he has never been an officer before." 
 
 "I know what my powers arc," said Pan Michael, "and 
 do not need to be reminded of them." 
 
 Then the others began to exclaim: 
 
 "Let the son ... be brought before us, the traitor!" 
 
 The loud 'cries aroused Zagloba., who had been taking a 
 little doze, as he was always doing now. He was not long 
 in recalling the subject of conversation, and said: 
 
 "No, Pan Snitko, the moon is obscured in your gem, but 
 your wit is obscured still more, for no one could discover 
 it with a candle. The idea of saying that a dog, a faithful 
 dog, is a traitor, and a wolf not one! Allow me to say you 
 are speaking out of your boots." 
 
 Pan Snitko lifted his eyes to the heavens to show how 
 he suffered innocently, but he did not want to offend the 
 old gentleman by contradicting him, moreover, Pan Michael 
 ordered him to fetch Mellekhovich, and so he hastily de- 
 parted, glad of the excuse to escape. 
 
 He soon returned with the young Tartar, who as yet was 
 evidently ignorant of the capture of the Lipka. Hia 
 swarthy and handsome countenance had become very pale, 
 but he had recovered his health, and not even a handker- 
 chief bound his head; it was simply covered with a velvet 
 Crimean cap. 
 
 Everybody's eyes were fixed on him as intently as on a 
 rainbow. He made a rather low bow to the little knight 
 and then a rather haughty one to the rest of the company. 
 
 "Mellekhovich," said Pan Michael, sharply, glancing at 
 the Tartar, "are you acquainted with Colonel Krychinski?" 
 
 A sudden and menacing glance flitted across the coun- 
 tenance of Mellekhovich. 
 
 "I know him." 
 
 'KYud that," said the little knight, handing him the letter 
 found on the Lipka. 
 
 Mellekhovich began to read it, but before he had come to 
 the end, his face had recovered its tranquility. 
 
 "1 await your commands," he said as he returned the 
 letter. 
 
 'lfi % .w long have you been hutching treason, and who are 
 your confederates in Klneptyov?" 
 
200 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Then am I accused of treason?' 7 
 
 "Answer! Ask no questions!" cried the little knight, 
 threateningly. 
 
 "Then this is my answer. I have not been hatching 
 treason, nor have I any confederates, or if I have, they are 
 not within your jurisdiction." 
 
 As they heard this the officers ground their teeth and im- 
 mediately threatening voices were heard: 
 
 'More humbly, you son of a dog, more humbly! Remember 
 you are in the .presence of your superiors." 
 
 At that, Mellekhovich cast upon them a cold glance of 
 hatred. 
 
 "I know what is due to my commander as my superior," 
 he replied bowing repeatedly to Pan Michael. "I know that 
 you gentlemen regard me as your inferior, and your society 
 I do not want. Your grace," he continued (turning again to 
 the little knight), "asked me of confederates. I have two in 
 this business, one is Pan Bogush, Pod-Stollik 1 of Novgorod, 
 and the other is the Grand Hetman of the Commonwealth." 
 
 On hearing these words they were greatly amazed, and 
 silence fell on them all for a time; finally Pan Michael 
 asked: 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "In this way,," Mellekhovich replied, "Krychinski, Mor- 
 avski, Tvorovski, Aleksandrovich and the others joined the 
 Horde and greatly injured the fatherland, but they did not 
 find much fortune in the new service they had taken. Per- 
 haps too, their conscience pricked them, anyhow, the name 
 traitor is bitter to them. The Hetman knows this well and 
 has entrusted Pan Bogush and Pan Myslishevski with the 
 task of bringing them back beneath the banner of the Com- 
 monwealth. Pan Bogush has employed me on this mission 
 and ordered me to come to an understanding with Kry- 
 chinski. In my quarters there are letters from Pan Bogush 
 which will convince your grace more than any words of 
 mine.' 
 
 "Accompany Pan Snitko to fetch those letters here at 
 once." 
 
 Mellekhovich departed. 
 
 . "Gentlemen," hastily cried the little knight, "we have 
 greatly offended this soldier by our precipitate judgment; 
 
 1 Pod Stollik under carver an honorary title of former Polish nobility. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 2O i 
 
 for if those letters are in his possession, and I begin to think 
 that they are, he is telling the truth. Moreover, not only 
 is he a cavalier, celebrated for his military exploits, but one 
 who is anxious for the welfare of the country, and on that 
 account he should meet with recompense and not unjust 
 judgment. For God's sake, this must be remedied quickly." 
 
 The others all held their peace, not knowing what to say, 
 and Pan Zagloba shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. 
 
 In the meantime, Mellekhovich returned and handed Bo- 
 gush's letter to the little knight. 
 
 The little knight read as follows: 
 
 "On every side I hear that no man is more fitted for such 
 a service than you, on account of the marvellous affection 
 in which you are held by these men. The Hetman is ready 
 to forgive them and promises the pardon of the Common- 
 wealth. Communicate with Krychinski as often as possible 
 by means of trustworthy agents and promise to reward him. 
 Keep it strictly secret or otherwise, as God lives, you will 
 ruin them all. You may disclose the matter to Pan Volo- 
 diyovski, for your commander may be of great ^service to 
 you. Spare no labors or efforts in view of the end crowning 
 the work, and be sure that our Mother will requite your 
 good-will with equal love." 
 
 "And this is my reward!" darkly muttered the young Tar- 
 tar. 
 
 "By the Great God! why did you not tell us of this?" 
 cried Pan Michael. 
 
 "I wanted to tell your lordship everything, but I had no 
 opportunity, as I was ill after the accident. Before these 
 gentlemen (here Mellekhovich turned to the officers) I had 
 a secret that I was forbidden to tell. Your lordship will 
 surely enjoin that secrecy on them now, so as not to ruin 
 those other men!' 
 
 "The proofs of your honesty are so clear that a blind 
 man could not deny them," replied the little knight. "Carry 
 on the business with Krychinski. In this you will have no 
 hindrance, but help, in proof of which, I give you my hand 
 as an honorable knight. Come and join me at supper this 
 evening." 
 
 Mellekhovich clasped the hand held out to him and bowefl 
 the third time. From every corner of the room the other 
 officers advanced towards him, saying: 
 
 "We did not know you, but every lover of virtue will not 
 withhold his hand from you to-day." 
 
202 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 But the young Tartar suddenly straightened himself and 
 held back his head, like a bird of prey "about to peck, and 
 exclaimed: 
 
 "I am standing in the presence of my superiors." 
 
 He then left the room. 
 
 After he had gone, the clamor broke out. The officers said 
 to each other, "It is no wonder that his heart is still indig- 
 nant at the injustice, but that will disappear in time. \\ V 
 must treat him differently. He is of the true knightly metal. 
 The Hetman knew what he was about. Miracles are taking 
 place; well, well!" 
 
 Pan Snitko was triumphing in silence till he could con- 
 tain himself no longer, but, approaching Pan Zagloba, he 
 bent over, and said: 
 
 "Allow me, sir, but that wolf was no traitor. . . 
 
 "No traitor!" retorted Zagloba, "he was a traitor, though 
 a virtuous one, since he betrayed not us, but the Horde. 
 . . . Fear not, Pan Snitko; to-day I will offer up prayers 
 for your wit and perchance the Holy Ghost may take com- 
 passion on you." 
 
 Basia was greatly relieved when Zagloba told her all 
 about the business, for she had a great liking and pity for 
 Mellekhovich. 
 
 "It is necessary," she said, "that Michael and I should in- 
 tentionally accompany him on his first expedition of danger, 
 for by that means we shall best be able to show our confidence 
 in him/* 
 
 But the little knight .stroked Basia's rosy cheeks and 
 replied: 
 
 "Oh distressed fly, I know you, you don't care so much 
 about Mellekhovich; what you want is to buzz off into the 
 steppes and take part in a battle. But that can never be." 
 
 Then he began to kiss her mouth again and again. 
 
 "Mulier insidiosa est" (woman is wily), said Zagloba, sen- 
 ten tiously. 
 
 Meanwhile Mellekhovich was sitting in his own room 
 whispering to the Lipka. The pair were sitting so close 
 together that their heads almost touched. A lamp of sheep's 
 tallow was burning on the table, casting a yellow glow on 
 the face of Mellekhovich which, notwithstanding its beauty, 
 was simply terrible: and in it was depicted rancor, cruelty, 
 and wild joy. 
 
 "Halim, listen!" Mellekhovich whispered. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 203 
 
 "Effendi!" responded the messenger. 
 
 "Tell Krychinski that he was wise, for there was nothing 
 to hurt me in the letter; tell him that he was wise. Let 
 him never write more openly. . . . Now they will trust 
 me even more fully. . . . Every one of them! The very 
 iletman, Bogush, Myslishevski and this whole post, all! Do 
 you hear? May the pestilence choke them." 
 
 "I hear, Effendi!" 
 
 "But I must first go to Rashkov, and then I will return 
 here." 
 
 "Effendi, young Novovyeyski will recognize you." 
 
 "No he won't. He saw me at Kalnik and Bratslav and did 
 not know me. He will look at me and pucker his brow, but 
 he will not recognize me. He was fifteen years of age when 
 I ran away. Since then, the winter has whitened the steppes 
 eight times. I have altered. The old man would know me, 
 but not the young one. ... I will let you know from 
 Rashkov. Let Krychinski hold himself in readiness in the 
 vicinity. You must keep in touch with the Perkulabs. More- 
 over our regiment is in Yampol. I will induce Bogush to 
 get an order for me from the Hetman saying that I can 
 more easily deal with Krychinski from there. But I must 
 return here. ... I must. ... I don't know what 
 will happen, or how I shall manage. ... I am consumed 
 
 with a raging fire. Sleep is banished from my eyes 
 
 If not for her, I might as well be dead." 
 
 "Her hands be blessed." 
 
 Mellekhovic'h's lips began to quiver, and again leaning 
 towards the messenger, he whispered feverishly: 
 
 "Halim! blessings on her hands, blessings on her head, 
 blessings on the earth she treads on. Do you hear, Halim? 
 Tell them that because of her, I am well/' 
 
CHATTER V. 
 
 In his youth Father Kaminski had been a soldier and a 
 cavalier of a lively disposition; at present he was stationed at 
 Ushytsa attempting to restore a parish. But as the church 
 was in ruins and in want of parishioners, this flockless pastor 
 went to Khreptyov and remained there for several weeks, be- 
 stowing his pious instruction to edify the knights. 
 
 A few evenings after Pan Mushalski's story, to which he 
 listened attentively, he said to the assembly: 
 
 "I always enjoy hearing stories in which misfortunes end 
 happily, for they teach us that Grod's guiding hand can bring 
 rescue from the enemy and can lead from the Crimea to the 
 peaceful roof. 
 
 "Therefore, once for all, let each one of you remember this: 
 With the Lord nothing is impossible, therefore let none of 
 you, even in the utmost extremity, fail to put your trust in 
 His mercy." 
 
 "This is tfie fact!" 
 
 "It was commendable in Pan Mushalski to love a common 
 man with fraternal affection. The example has been set by 
 the Saviour Himself, when he, though of royal blood, loved 
 common people, chose his apostles from them, and gave them 
 his divine patronage, elevating them so highly that now they 
 have seats in the heavenly senate." 
 
 "Yet personal love is different from universal love that 
 of one nation to another. Our Lord and Redeemer observed 
 both with equal faithfulness. Where do we find this love? 
 If you look through the world you find such universal hatred 
 in all hearts that it seems as though mankind followed the 
 commandments of the Devil and not those of the Lord." 
 
 "It will be difficult, your grace," remarked Pan Zagloba, 
 "to convince us that we have to love Turks, Tartars, and 
 other barbarians whom even the Lord God must Himself 
 despise." 
 
 "I am not begging you to do that, but I do insist upon 
 this; that children of the same mother should love each other j 
 
 (204) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 205 
 
 but how is it? Since the time of Khmyelnitski, or for thirty 
 years, these regions have been drenched with blood." 
 
 "Whose fault is that?" 
 
 "Whoso will first confess his fault, him God will pardon." 
 
 "Your grace is in priest's vestments to-day; but in your 
 youth, as we have heard, you slew rebels with no better con- 
 science than the others." 
 
 "I slew them, for, as a soldier, it was my duty. In that 
 there was no sin, but my sin consisted in hating them like the 
 plague. I had private reasons for this, which I will not speak 
 of, for the time has long since passed and the wound is now 
 dried up. I am sorry 'that I overstepped my duty. I had a 
 hundred men from the squadron of Pan Nyevodovski under 
 my command; and, acting independently with my force, I 
 often burned, massacred, and hanged. , . . Gentlemen, you 
 know what times those were. Called in by Khmyelnitski, the 
 Tartars burned and slaughtered; and we did the same. We 
 burned and slaughtered; the Cossacks, committing worse 
 atrocities than ours or the Tartar's, left nothing in their 
 trail save land and water. Nothing is more terrible than 
 civil war. . . Such times they were, no one can gainsay it; 
 enough that we and they fought more like mad dogs than 
 human beings. . . Once news came to our quarters that 
 the rabble had laid siege to Pan Busyetski in his fortalice. I 
 was despatched with my command to the rescue. I arrived 
 too late; the fortalice was razed to the ground. I instantly 
 fell upon the drunken peasants and mowed them down; only 
 a few escaped by hiding in the wheat. I commanded that 
 these be taken alive and hanged as an example. But where? 
 This was easier said than done; there was not a single tree 
 left standing in the village; even the pear trees that bordered 
 the fields were destroyed. There was not time to erect 
 gibbets; and as this land was among the steppes there was 
 not a single forest. What was to be done? I marched on 
 with my prisoners. Perhaps, sooner or later I shall come 
 across a forked young oak, I thought. I went one mile, two 
 miles, steppe after steppe; you could have rolled a ball over 
 them. Presently, towards evening, we found traces of a vil- 
 lage. I looked about me, here and there were piles of cinders 
 and grey ashes, and that was all! On the side of a small hill 
 there stood a great oaken cross, which seamed to be new, 
 for the wood had not turned dark, and it therefore shone in 
 the twilight like a fire. Upon it there was a tin Christ, cut 
 
20 5 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 and painted in such a life-like manner that you would have 
 thought it a real statue until you viewed it from the side and 
 saw r the sheet of tin; the face was as if still alive, and pale 
 with agony; on the head was a crown of thorns; the eyes were 
 raised upwards with a wonderful expression of terrible sorrow 
 and sadness. When I saw that cross, the thought flashed 
 through my mind: 'There is your tree; you will find none 
 other;' but instantly I became frightened. In the name of 
 the Father, and of the Son! I will not hang them on the 
 cross. But, thinking to bring comfort to the eyes of Christ 
 if I gave command in His presence to kill those who had 
 spilled so much guiltless blood, I said: '0 dear Lord, let it 
 seem to Thee that these murderers are the Jews who nailed 
 Thee to the cross, for these are no better than those. I then 
 ordered my men to drag the captives, one by one, to the 
 mound beneath the cross and cut them down. There were 
 among them old gray-haired peasants and youths. The first 
 one who was brought said: 'By the Passion of our Lord, by 
 that Christ, have mercy upon me, sir!' and my answer was: 
 'Off with his head!' A dragoon cut and slashed. . . . An- 
 other was brought; the same thing occurred: 'By that merci- 
 ful Christ have pity upon me!' And my answer was again: 
 'Off with his head !' The same thing happened with the third, 
 the fourth, and the fifth; there were fourteen altogether, and 
 every one of them implored me, by Christ. . . Twilight 
 had faded when we ended. I ordered them to be placed in 
 a circle around the foot of the cross. . . Fool that I was in 
 thinking to please the only Son with this spectacle! They 
 moved for some time, one with his hands, another with his 
 feet, while at times another threw himself up like a fish just 
 pulled out of water; but this did not last long; their bodies 
 soon lost all power and silently they lay surrounding the cross 
 like a chaplet. . . '' 
 
 As the darkness had now fallen, I decided to remain, in 
 this spot all night, notwithstanding the fact that there were 
 no materials for a fire. God granted us a warm day, and my 
 soldiers lay down on their horse-blankets; but I went to the 
 cross to repeat the usual 'Pater' at the feet of Christ and 
 commit myself to His mercy. I thought my prayer would be 
 more graciously accepted because I had spent the day in labor 
 and such deeds, which I counted to myself as a service. 
 
 "Sometimes a weary soldier will fall asleep at his evening 
 prayers. This happened to me, The dragoons, who saw me 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 207 
 
 kneeling with my head resting on the cross, believed that I 
 was deep in pious meditation, and would not disturb me; my 
 eyes closed instantly; and that cross inspired a marvellous 
 dream. I will not say that I had a vision for I was not, and 
 am not, worthy of that; but, although I was fast asleep, i saw 
 the whole Passion of our Lord as plainly as if I had been 
 awake. . . While witnessing the sufferings of the innocent 
 Lamb, my heart broke, tears fell from my eyes, and 1 was 
 filled with boundless pity. '0 Lord/ I said, 'I have a hand- 
 ful of good men. Wilt Thou see what our cavalry can do? 
 Only nod thy head and in one moment my sabres shall de- 
 spatch such sons, Thy executioners!' Just as I said this, 
 everything vanished; there remained only the cross and Christ 
 on it weeping tears of blood. . . Then, sobbing, I embraced 
 the foot of the holy cross. How long I wept I know not; but, 
 after I had become calmer, I again exclaimed: '0 Lord, 
 Lord! why didst thou give Thy holy teaching to hardened 
 Jews? Hadst Thou come from Palestine to our Common- 
 wealth, surely we would not have nailed Thee to the cross, 
 but have received Thee royally, given Thee precious gifts, 
 and ennobled Thee for the aggrandisement Thy divine glory. 
 Why dids't Thou not do this, Lord?' " 
 
 "Then I lifted my eyes, (you remember, gentlemen, this 
 was all a dream,) and what do I behold? Our Lord looks 
 sternly upon me; He frowns, and then says suddenly and 
 loudly: 'Your nobility is cheap; any mean fellow may buy it 
 during war, but no more of this! You and the rabble are 
 worthy of each other; and each of you is worse than the Jews, 
 for you nail me here on the cross every day. . . Have I not 
 commanded love, even for enemies, and forgiveness of sins? 
 But you tear out each other's entrails like wild beasts. I, 
 witnessing this, suffer unendurable agony. And you, who 
 would release me from it and bring me to the Commonwealth, 
 what have you done? See, you have bespattered the foot of 
 my cross with blood and placed corpses around it; and among 
 these some are innocent youths, or blinded men who have 
 no discernment whatever, followed the others like silly sheep. 
 Did you show mercy to them; did you judge them before 
 slaughter? No! You ordered them to be slain for my sake, 
 and thought you would bring comfort to me. In truth, it is 
 one thing to reprove and punish, as a father punishes his son, 
 or as an elder brother a younger brother, and another thing 
 to show vengeance and cruelty without judgment or measure. 
 
2 o8 P&X MICHAEL. 
 
 It has come to that, that this land is so terrible that wolves 
 are more merciful than men; the grass sweats bloody dew; the 
 storms howl, and do not blow; the rivers flow with tears; and 
 people imploringly hold out their hands to death, crying, 'Our 
 refuge!' . . " 
 
 " '0 Lord/ I cried, 'are these men better than we? Which 
 of us has committed the greatest cruelty? Who brought the 
 Pagan here?' 
 
 " 'Love them while you chastise them/ said the Lord, 'and 
 then the cataract will fall from their eyes, hardness will leave 
 their hearts, and my mercy will be upon you. If you act 
 otherwise, the Tartars will come and bind you and them, and 
 compel you to serve the enemy in suffering, in tears, and in 
 contempt, until the time comes when you do love each other. 
 But if 3^ou persist in boundless hatred, neither of you will 
 receive mercy, and for ages upon ages will the Pagan possess 
 this land.' 
 
 "On hearing such commandments, I became terrified, and 
 for a long time I was unable to speak, finally, falling on my 
 face, I asked: 
 
 " '0 Lord, what must I do to wash away my sins? 7 
 
 "The Lord answered: 
 
 " 'Go, repeat my commandment; proclaim love.' 
 
 "After this reply, my dream ended. 
 
 "As the summer night is short, I woke up at dawn all wet 
 with the dew. I looked around me; the heads were lying as 
 a garland around the cross, but they had already became blue; 
 a miracle had happened, yesterday I had gloated over that 
 sight, and to-day I was seized with horror, especially at the 
 aspect of one youth about seventeen years of age, of exceeding 
 beauty. I ordered the soldiers to give the bodies decent burial 
 under that cross, and from that day forth, I was a different 
 man. 
 
 "At first I said to myself, that the dream was an illusion; 
 but still it haunted my mind and seemed to take possession 
 of my whole being. I did not dare to imagine that the Lord 
 himself had spoken to me, for, as I have already said, I did 
 not feel myself worthy of that; but perhaps conscience, silent 
 in 'times of war, lurking like a Tartar in the grass, suddenly 
 spoke forth and proclaimed the will of God. I wont to con- 
 fession and the priest confirmed this idea. He said, '.It is the 
 manifest will and premonition of the Lord, listen to it, or it 
 will not be well with thec.' 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 209 
 
 "Thenceforth, I began to preach love. 
 
 "But the companions and officers laughed in my face. 
 'What?' they cried, 'is this a priest come to teach us? Is it 
 a small outrage that these dog brothers have wrought against 
 God, are the churches they have burned few, are the crosses 
 that they have desecrated insignificant in number? Are we 
 to love them for all this?' In a word nobody would listen 
 to me." 
 
 "After Berestechka, I assumed this religious garb so as to 
 proclaim the word and will of God with greater dignity. I 
 have done this without ceasing for more than twenty years. 
 Already my hair has grown wjiite. . . God is merciful; He 
 will not punish me because, so far, my voice is merely a voice 
 crying in the wilderness." 
 
 "Gentlemen, love your enemies, punish them like a father 
 and reprove them like an elder brother, otherwise, woe to them 
 and woe to you, and woe to the whole Commonwealth." 
 
 "Look about you; what is the result of this war and hatred 
 of brother for brother? This country has become a desert: 
 in Ushytsa I have graves instead of parishioners; churches, 
 towns, and villages are all in ruins; the power of the infidel is 
 rising and overwhelming us like a sea which is about to swal- 
 low up even thee, Rock of Kamenets." 
 
 Pan Nyenashinyets listened to the words of the priest with 
 great emotion, till his forehead was beaded with sweat, then 
 amid universal silence, he spoke as follows: 
 
 "That the Cossacks have worthy men among them is proved 
 by the presence among us of Pan Motovidlo, whom we all 
 love and respect. But as for that universal love, of which 
 priest Kaminski has spoken so eloquently, I confess that so 
 far I have lived in great sin, for that love has not been in me, 
 nor have I striven to gain it. Now, however, his Reverence 
 has somewhat opened my eyes. Without God's special grace, 
 such love will never dwell in my heart, for there I harbor the 
 memory of a cruel wrong of which I will tell you in a few 
 words." 
 
 "Let us have something warm to drink," cried Zagloba. 
 
 "Put more fire to the yoke-elm," said Basia to the ser- 
 vants. 
 
 And in a few moments the large room again glowed with 
 
 the blaze, and a flagon of heated beer was placed before each 
 
 knight by an attendant. They all gladly moistened their 
 
 moustaches in it, and when they had taken a couple of 
 
 14 
 
2It PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 draughts, Pan Nyenashinyets again began in tones that sound- 
 ed like the rumbling of a wagon: 
 
 "On her dying bed, my mother committed my sister to my 
 care; her name was Halshka. 1 I had neither wife nor child, 
 and so I loved her as the apple of my eye. She was twenty 
 years younger than I, and I carried her about in my arms. I 
 regarded her exactly as if she were my own child. Some vears 
 afterwards, I took the field and the horde captured her. When 
 I returned, I beat my head against the wall. All my posses- 
 sions had disappeared during the incursion; but I sold all I 
 had left, strapped my last saddle on a horse, and went away 
 with some Armenians to ransom my sister. I discovered her 
 in Bakhche-Serai. She was attached to the harem, but not in 
 it, for as yet she was only twelve years old. I shall never 
 forget the hour when I found tbee, Halshka! How she did 
 cling about my neck; how she did kiss me on the eyes. But 
 what then! The money that I had brought with me proved 
 to be insufficient. She was a beautiful girl. Yehu Aga, who 
 had carried her off, wanted three times as much for her. I 
 offered to throw myself in, but it would not do. She was 
 bought in the open market before my very eyes by Tukhay 
 Bey, that notorious foe of ours, who wanted to keep her in 
 his harem three years, and then marry her. I returned home 
 tearing my hair. On the way I discovered that, in a Tartar 
 village by the sea, one of Tukhay Bey's wives was living with 
 his favorite son, Azya. Tukhay Bey had wives in every town 
 and in many villages, so that wherever he went, he would 
 have a roof of his own, under which he might rest. Hearing 
 of this son, I thought that God had provided me with a last 
 means of saving Halshka. I immediately determined to carry 
 off that son and exchange him for my sister, but I could not 
 do this without help. It was necessary to gather together a 
 company in the Ukraine, or in the Wild Fields, which was 
 far from easy; in the first place because Tukhay Bey's name 
 was dreaded throughout Kussia. and in the second place, be- 
 cause he was in alliance with the Cossacks against us. But 
 more than one brave Cossack was wandering about the steppes, 
 men who were out for their own profit and were willing to 
 go anywhere for booty. I gathered a. famous band of these 
 together. No words can express what we endured before our 
 boats arrived at the coast, for we had to hide from the Cos- 
 
 i Helena. 
 
PA\ MH'l'IAKL. 211 
 
 sack leaders. But God helped us. I captured Azya and a 
 Magnificent booty with him. We got back safely to the Wild 
 Fields. From there, I wanted to go to Kamenets and enter 
 into negotiations with merchants of that place. 
 
 "I shared out the whole plunder among the Cossacks, only 
 reserving Tukhay Bey's pup for myself; and, because I had 
 been so liberal with them, shared so many dangers, endured 
 hunger, and risked my life with them, I thought that every 
 one of them would go through the fire for me, and that 1 had 
 won their hearts for all time." 
 
 "I had reason to repent bitterly of my confidence, and that 
 soon. 
 
 "It had never entered my head that they would turn and 
 tear to pieces their own Ataman and then share his booty 
 among themselves. I forgot that among those men there is 
 neither faith, nor virtue, nor gratitude, nor conscience. . . 
 Not far from Kamenets the hope of a great ransom for Azya 
 tempted my followers. They fell on me in the night like 
 wolves, strangled me with a rope, stabbed me with knives, and 
 finally, thinking me dead, cast me aside in the wilderness and 
 fled with the boy. 
 
 "(jjod sent me rescue and restored me to health; but my 
 Halshka was lost forever. Perhaps she is still living there 
 somewhere; perhaps on Tukhay Bey's death, she was taken 
 by another Infidel; 'perhaps she has accepted the faith of Mo- 
 hammed; perhaps she has forgotten her brother; perhaps even 
 some day her son may shed my blood. . . That is my tale." 
 
 Here Pan Nyenashinyets ceased and gazed gloomily on the 
 ground. 
 
 "What rivers of our blood and tears have flowed for this 
 land!" cried Mushalski. 
 
 "Thou shalt love thine enemies," ejaculated Father Kamin- 
 ski. 
 
 "And when you were restored to health, didn't you hunt 
 for that pup?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "I afterwards learned that another band fell on those who 
 robbed me," answered Pan Nyenashinyets, "and cut them 
 to pieces, and the child must have been captured with the 
 other spoil. I hunted everywhere, but he had disappeared like 
 a stone cast into the water." 
 
 "Perhaps you met him afterwards and could not recognize 
 him!" Basia suggested. 
 
 "I don't know if the child was even three years of age. I 
 
2I2 PI AT MICHAEL. 
 
 knew nothing except that his name was Azya. But I could 
 have identified him, because on each side of his breast he had 
 a fish tattooed in blue." 
 
 Suddenly Mellekhovich, who had hitherto been sitting in 
 silence, cried in peculiar accents from his corner of the room: 
 
 "You could not have told him by the fish, because many 
 Tartars have the same sign, particularly those who dwell near 
 the water." 
 
 "That's not true," cried the rugged Pan Hromyka, for after 
 Berestechka I examined the corpse of Tukhay Bey, for it was 
 left on the field, and I know that he had a fish on his breast, 
 and the other dead Tartars all had different marks." 
 
 "But I tell you, sir, that many bear fish." 
 
 "True, but they are all of the Tukhay Bey breed." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of 
 Pan Lelchyts, whom Pan Michael had sent out on a scouting 
 expedition that morning, and who had just returned. 
 
 "Colonel," he said, as he entered, "there is some kind of a 
 detachment advancing- in this direction from Sirotski Brod 
 on the Moldavian side." 
 
 "What sort of people are they?" asked Pan Michael. 
 
 "Bandits. A few of them are Wallachians, and a, few Hun- 
 garians, most of them are stragglers from the Horde, and there 
 are about two hundred in all." 
 
 "They must be the same of whom I have heard making a 
 raid on the- Moldavian side," said Pan Michael. The Perkulab 
 must have made it warm for them there, so they are escaping 
 in this direction; but there are about two hundred of the 
 Horde alone. They will cross at night, and we will intercept 
 them at dawn. Motovidlo and Mellekhovich will be ready at 
 midnight. Drive a, small herd of cattle to attract them and 
 now to your quarters." 
 
 The soldie* then separated, but they had not all left the 
 room before Basia ran up to her husband, threw her arms 
 about his neck and began to whisper in his ear. He laughed 
 and shook his head repeatedly, but evidently she was insisting, 
 as she encircled his neck more coaxingly. When Zagloba saw 
 this, he cried: 
 
 "Let her have this pleasure for once; if you will. I, the 
 old man, will jog along with you," 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Detached bands who occupied themselves with robbery 
 on both sides of the Dniester included men of all nation- 
 alities from the border countries. Fugitive Tartars from 
 the Dobrudja and Byalogrod Hordes, still more savage and 
 courageous than their brethern of the Crimea, always formed 
 the majority; neither were there wanting Wallachians, Cos- 
 sacks, Hungarians, and Polish servants, who had escaped 
 from military posts near the banks of the Dniester. They 
 alternately ravaged the Polish and the Wallachian side, con- 
 stantly crossing the boundary river, according to whether 
 they were hunted by the forces of the Perkulav or by the 
 Commonwealth commanders. They had almost inaccessible 
 lurking places in the ravines, forests, and caves. The spoil 
 they chiefly sought was the herds of horses and cattle, belong- 
 ing to the military posts; these herds remained on the steppes 
 even through the winter, finding their sustenance under the 
 snow. But in addition the robbers attacked villages, farms, 
 hamlets, and small military detachments, Polish and even 
 Turkish merchants and agents who were going to the Crimea 
 with ransom. These bands had their own leaders and or- 
 ganization, and seldom combined their forces. 
 
 Indeed it frequently happened that the larger bands de- 
 stroyed the smaller ones. They had greatly multiplied all 
 through the Russian dominions, especially sinee the Cos- 
 sack wars, when all kinds of order and safety disappeared. 
 The bands on the Dniester joined by stragglers from the 
 Horde, were particularly formidable. Some of them even 
 numbered as many as five hundred. Their chiefs assumed 
 the title of Bey. They ravaged the country in the charac- 
 teristic manner of the Tartar, and more than once the com- 
 manders themselves could not tell whether they were dealing 
 with bandits or with advanced chambuls of the entire Horde. 
 These bodies could not make a stand in the open field against 
 mounted troops, especially the cavalry of the Commonwealth, 
 but, when they were caught in a trap, they fought with des- 
 
 (213) 
 
214 PAN 
 
 peration, being perfectly well aware that if they were cap- 
 tured, the gibbet and cord was their lot. They were vari- 
 ously armed. They were short of bows and muskets, but 
 these were of little use in their night assaults. The ma- 
 jority were armed with daggers and Turkish yataghans, 
 loaded sticks, Tartar swords, and horse- jaws fastened to oak 
 limbs with, thongs. The latter weapon, in a skilful hand, did 
 terrible execution, for it could shatter any sword. Some had 
 long pitchforks with sharp iron points, and some had spears, 
 which on emergency they employed against the cavalry. 
 
 The band at Sirotski Brod must have been in extremes 
 on the Moldavian side, since it had dared to approach the 
 Khreptyov post, notwithstanding the terror inspired by the 
 very name of Pan Michael among the bandits on both sides 
 of the border. In fact, another scout brought the news that 
 it comprised more than four hundred men, led by Azba Bey, 
 a celebrated raider, who, for many years had terrorized the 
 Polish and Moldavian sides of the river. 
 
 Pan Michael was deligted when he heard with whom he had 
 to deal, and at once issued the necessary orders. In addi- 
 tion to Mellekhovich and Pan Motovidlo, the squadron *of 
 the General of Podolia was employed, as well as that of the 
 sub-governor of Pshemysl. They started in the night, la- 
 king different routes, for, like fishers who cast their nets in 
 winter over a considerable expanse, so as to come together 
 afterwards at one outlet in the ice, so these detachments, 
 taking a wide circuit, were to meet at Sirotski Brod about 
 daybreak. 
 
 With a beating heart, Basia assisted at the departure of 
 the troops, as this was her first experience of war, and her 
 spirits rose at the sight of these old wolves of the steppes. 
 They set out so noiselessly, that, in the fortalice itself, they 
 could scarcely be heard. The bits did not jingle, nor did 
 stirrup strike against stirrup, nor sabre against sabre, nor 
 rHd a horse neigh. It was 'a calm and unusually luminous 
 night. The full moon brightly illuminated the hills of the 
 post and the steppes, which were rolling ground; and yet, 
 scarcely had a company passed the stockade, the sabres glint- 
 ing silverly in the moonlight, when it disappeared like a 
 covey of partridges among waving grass. There was some- 
 thing mysterious in this march. To Basia they looked like 
 sportsmen going out to the same hunt, which was to begin 
 at dawn, and for that reason were moving with care and quiet, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 315 
 
 so as not to start the game too soon. She was therefore ex- 
 ceedingly anxious to share in the sport. 
 
 Pan Michael made no opposition, because Zagloba had 
 induced him to give his consent. Moreover, he knew he 
 would have to gratify Basia's desire some day or other, and 
 so he preferred to do it at once, particularly as these raiders 
 were not accustomed to bows and guns. 
 
 However, they did not start for three hours after the first 
 squadron had gone, because Pan Michael had made the fol- 
 lowing arrangements. Pan Mushalski, with twenty of 
 Linkhauz's dragoons and a sargeant, all Mazovians and picked 
 men, accompanied them, and behind these swords the col- 
 onel's charming wife was as safe as in her own room at home. 
 
 As she had to stride a man's saddle she was dressed ac- 
 cordingly; she wore a pair of pearl velvet trousers, very 
 baggy and looking like a petticoat, stuffed into little yellow 
 saffian boots; a little gray overcoat lined with white Crimean 
 sheep-skin, and ornamented with embroidery down the seams; 
 she carried a beautifully-worked silver ammunition pouch 
 and a light Turkish sabre in a silken belt, with pistols in her 
 holsters. On her head was a cap covered with Venetian 
 velvet, ornamented with a heron's plume and bordered with 
 lynx-skin; under the cap peeped out a bright, rosy, almost 
 infantile face, and two inquisitive eyes that glowed like 
 coals. 
 
 Thus armed, and bestriding a chestnut pony, gontle and 
 swift as a deer, she looked like a Hetman's child, who under 
 the care of seasoned warriors, was about to take a first lesson. 
 Moreover, the figure she cut surprised them all. Pan Za- 
 globa and Pan Mushalski nudged each other with their el- 
 bows and kept on kissing their hands as a mark of extreme 
 homage to Basia; they both joined Pan Michael in allaying 
 her anxiety about their late departure. 
 
 "You have no knowledge of war," said the little knight. 
 "and you reproach us with wanting to let you arrive on the 
 field only when the battle is over. Some of the troops go 
 straight there, others have to make a detour, so as 1^ sur- 
 round them, and then they will silently join the others, catch- 
 ing the enemy in a trap. We shall get there in plenty of time 
 and nothing will happen until we arrive, for the time has 
 been carefully calculated." 
 
 "Suppose the foe takes alarm and escapes between the 
 various squadrons?" 
 
2i6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "He is wary and watchful, but his kind of warfare is noth- 
 ing new to us." 
 
 "Trust to Michael/' exclaimed Zagloba, "no one has had 
 more experience than he. Their evil destiny sent those bul- 
 lock-drivers in our direction." 
 
 "I was quite young at Lubni," said Pan Michael, "and even 
 then they entrusted me with this kind of work. On this oc- 
 casion, to let you see the affair, I have been unusually care- 
 ful in my dispositions. The various bodies will unite at 
 the same moment in the presence of the foe. They will raise 
 a shout in unison, and together they will charge the ban- 
 dits, as if at the crack of the same whip." 
 
 "Oh, oh!" piped Basia delightedly; and, standing up 
 in her stirrups, she threw her arm around the little knight's 
 neck. "And may I charge too? Eh, Michael, dear, eh?" 
 she cried, her eyes sparkling. 
 
 "I will not allow you to go into the melee, for an acci- 
 dent might easily happen in the press, not to speak of the 
 fact that your horse might stumble; but I have given orders 
 to loosen the reins immediately they have scattered the 
 band that is driven against us, and then you may cut down 
 a man or two, only you must always attack on the left, be- 
 cause then it will not be easy for the fugitive to strike at 
 you across his horse, while you will have him in your power." 
 
 "Ho, ho!" cried Basia, "never fear, you, yourself, said that 
 I can use the sabre far better than Uncle Makovyetski; don't 
 try to teach me!" 
 
 "Remember to keep a firm hold on the bridle," said Za- 
 globa. "They have tricks of their own, and when you are 
 pursuing, perhaps the fugitive may suddenly wheel his horse 
 and halt, and strike you as you pass by. An experienced sol- 
 dier never lets out his horse too much, but always keeps him 
 under control." 
 
 "And never raise your sabre too high, for fear of ex- 
 ' posing yourself to a thrust," said Pan Mushalski. 
 
 "I shall be near to guard against any accident," said the 
 little knight. "You see, in a battle, the whole trouble is 
 that you have everything to remember at once; the horse, 
 the foe, the rein, the sabre, the stroke, and the thrust, all 
 at once. To the veteran, it comes naturally, but at first the 
 very best fencers often make a mess of it, and any ordinary 
 soldier, simply by being used to it, can unhorse a beginner 
 who has much more skill than himself. ... So I will 
 stay beside you," 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 217 
 
 "But do not help me, and order all the men not to help me, 
 except at need." 
 
 "Well, well! we will see what your courage is when put 
 to the test/' laughed the little knight. 
 
 "And whether you won't seize one of us by the coat-tails/' 
 concluded Zagloba. 
 
 "We shall see/' cried Basia indignantly. 
 
 In this kind of conversation they arrived at a place covered 
 with thickets. It was now near dawn, but it had grown 
 darker, as the moon had set. A light mist had begun to 
 rise from the earth, obscuring distant objects. In the mist 
 and darkness the distant indistinct clumps assumed the 
 shape of living beings and excited Basra's imagination. More 
 than once she thought that she clearly distinguished men 
 and horses. 
 
 "What is that, Michael?' 'she whispered, as she pointed 
 with her finger. 
 
 "Nothing! growths!" 
 
 "I thought it was horsemen. Shall we soon be there 
 now?" 
 
 "The business will begin in about an hour and a half." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "Are you afraid?" 
 
 "No, but my heart beats with anticipation, I, afraid ? Not 
 a bit of it. ... Look what a heavy hoar-frost! It is visible 
 although it's dark." 
 
 In truth, they were riding across a stretch of country 
 where the long steppe-grasses were heavy with rime. Pan 
 Michael looked and exclaimed: 
 
 "Motovidlo came this way. He must be hiding only two 
 miles away. The day is already breaking." 
 
 Indeed it was dawn. It was getting lighter. The heavens 
 and the earth were growing gray and the atmosphere was 
 paling; the tops of the trees and bushes looked as if turning 
 to silver. Distant clumps gradually became visible as if in- 
 tervening curtains were being lifted one by one. Suddenly 
 a horseman issued from a neighboring coppice. 
 
 "From Pan Motovidlo?" asked Pan Michael, as the Cossack 
 halted immediately in front of them. 
 
 "Yes, your lordship." 
 
 "What is the news?" 
 
 '"They crossed Sirotski Brod, then turned to where the 
 cattle were lowing, and then went towards Kalusik. They 
 took the cattle and are now at Yurgove Polye." 
 
2I g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "And where is Pan Motovidlo?" 
 
 "He has halted near the hill, and Pan Mellekhovich near 
 Kalusik. I don't know where the other squadrons are." 
 
 "Good," exclaimed Pan Michael, "I know. Hasten to Pan 
 Motovidlo and order him to close in and station men singly 
 half-way towards Pan Mellekhovich. Be quick!" 
 
 The Cossack bowed on his saddle and darted forward, so 
 that his horse's flanks immediately began to heave, and he 
 was quickly out of sight. They rode on, still more quietly 
 and cautiously. Meanwhile it had become broad daylight. 
 The mist, which at dawn had risen from the ground, was 
 now dissipated, and in the eastern heavens, a long streak 
 of rosy light appeared, which cast its colored reflection upon 
 the higher points of ground, the edges of the ravines, and the 
 heights. 
 
 Then, a confused sound of croaking fell on their ears, from 
 the direction of the Dniester, and, high above them in the 
 air, appeared a great flock of ravens, flying towards the east. 
 At every moment a single bird would leave the others, and 
 instead of flying straight on, would describe a circle as kites 
 and falcons do, when on the watch for prey. 
 
 Pan Zagloba raised his sabre, and pointing it at the ravens, 
 said to Basia: 
 
 "Admire the instinct of those birds, just as soon as there 
 is a battle anywhere, they will come from every direction, 
 as if some one had shaken them out of a bag. But only let 
 an army march alone or advance to meet allies, and not one 
 of them appears, therefore, these creatures are able to divine 
 man's intentions, without any assistance. Their sense of 
 smell cannot -assist them in such a case, and, therefore, you 
 have cause for marvel." 
 
 In the meantime, the birds had come very close, croaking 
 louder and louder; Pan Mushalski, therefore, turned to the 
 little knight and said, as he slapped his bow: 
 
 "Colonel, is it forbidden to bring down one, to please the 
 lady. It won't make any noise." 
 
 "Bring down two, if you like," Pan Michael replied, see- 
 ing that the old soldier was anxious to show off his un- 
 erring archery. 
 
 On this, the matchless archer reached back and took a. 
 feathered arrow out of his quiver, fitted it on the string, 
 raised the bow, and waited. 
 
 The flock was coming nearer and nearer. They all reined 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 2 ig 
 
 in their horses and looked curiously into the sky. Suddenly 
 the plaintive twang of the string was heard, like the twitter 
 of a sparrow, and the arrow darted away and disappeared 
 among t]ie flock. 
 
 For a few moments it seemed as if Mushalski had missed, 
 but suddenly a bird reeled over and came swooping towards 
 the earth, above their heads, and, falling over and over, 
 finally came down with extended wings exactly like a leaf 
 floating on the air. 
 
 It dropped a few steps in front of Basia's pony. The 
 arrow had pierced the raven, so that the head was shining 
 above the bird's back. 
 
 "A fortunate omen," said Mushalki, bowing to Basia. 
 "I will keep an eye from a distance upon the lady-Colonel, 
 and, if there is any sudden emergency, God grant that again 
 I may despatch a lucky arrow. Though it may whizz close 
 to you, I promise it shall not hurt you/' 
 
 "I shouldn't like to be the Tartar that is your mark," 
 Basia answered. 
 
 Here Pan Michael interrupted them, as he pointed to a 
 high mound, some furlongs off, and said: 
 
 "There we will halt." 
 
 Then they went forward at a trot. Half-way up, the little 
 knight ordered them to slacken their speed, and, at last, near 
 the top, he reined up. 
 
 "We will not go to the summit," he said, "because on such 
 a clear morning, we might catch the eye from a long distance, 
 but we will dismount and cautiously approach the summit, 
 so that a few of us may peep over." 
 
 Then he sprang from his horse, and was followed by 
 Basia, Pan Mushalski, and several others. The dragoons 
 staid below the ridge in charge of the horses, but the others 
 advanced to the point where the ground fell almost perpen- 
 dicularly like a wall, into a valley below. . 
 
 At the foot of this wall, which was some tens of yards high, 
 there was a narrow, dense belt of brush-wood, and then came 
 a low level plain; from the eminence where they were posted, 
 they could see a great distance along the plain. 
 
 This plain, which was intersected by a little stream flow- 
 ing towards Kalusik, was dotted with thickets similar to the 
 ground by the cliff. Among these clumps thin wreaths of 
 smoke were risincr into the nir. 
 
 "Ton gee/' rnn Michael cried to Basia, "that's where the 
 foe ia in hidinir." 
 
220 p AX MICHAEL. 
 
 "I can see smoke, but no men nor horses/ 7 she answered, 
 her heart beating quickly. 
 
 "They are hidden in the thickets, but they are visible to 
 a trained eye. Look there, two, three, four, a whole troop 
 of horses are visible. One mottled, and another all white, and 
 it looks blue from this distance." 
 
 "Shall we soon advance against them?" 
 
 "They will be driven towards us, but there is plenty of 
 time, for they are a mile and a quarter away." 
 
 "Where are ours?" 
 
 "Do you see the skirt of the wood, yonder. The Under- 
 Chamberlain's company must have reached that point by 
 now. Mellekhovich will penetrate on the other edge in a 
 minute.- His squadron will attack the bandits from that 
 cliff. When they see them, the bandits will come in our 
 direction, because on this side it is possible to reach the 
 river under the bluff, but on the other side, there is a pre- 
 cipitous ravine which is impassable." 
 
 "Then they are caught in a trap?" 
 
 "As you see." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! I can scarcely keep still!" cried 
 Basia. 
 
 But presently she asked: 
 
 "Michael, what would they do, if they were wise?" 
 
 "They would spring as if through smoke at the men of 
 the Under-Chamberlain's squadron, and pass over their 
 bodies. Then they would be safe. But they won't do that, 
 for, in the first place, they do not like to face regular horse; 
 and in the second, they will be afraid that other troops a/e 
 in reserve in the forest, 'and so they will flee towards us." 
 
 "Oh, but we cannot resist them, there are only twenty of 
 us." 
 
 "What about Motovidlo?" 
 
 "That's true? Where is he?" 
 
 For answer, Pan Michael suddenly imitated the cry of a 
 hawk or falcon. 
 
 Immediately he was answered from the foot of the cliff 
 by many similar calls. These were Motovidlo's Cossacks, 
 who were so well concealed among the bushes that Basia, 
 although stationed immediately above them, had not caught 
 a glimpse of them. 
 
 She looked in amazement from the little knight to the 
 bushes below, and suddenly her eyes gleamed and she threw 
 her arms around her husband's neck. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 221 
 
 "Michael, dear, you are the best leader in the world." 
 
 "I have had a little experience, that is all" he smiled. 
 '"'But restrain your ecstasies here, and remember that a good 
 soldier must be calm." 
 
 The warning was useless, however. Basia was in a fever 
 of excitement. She wanted to mount her horse immediately, 
 and descend from the height to join Motovidlo's party. But 
 Pan Michael restained her, for he wanted her to get a clear 
 view of the start. 
 
 In the meantime, the morning sun had risen above the 
 plain and bathed it in a cold, pale, golden light. The 
 nearer thickets were glowing, while those more distant and 
 hazy became more sharply outlined; the rime, lying in patches 
 on the low grounds, was momentarily vanishing; the atmos- 
 phere had become quite clear, and the eye could see for an 
 immense distance. 
 
 The Under-Chamberlain's squadron is issuing from the 
 wood," said Pan Michael. "I see horses and men." 
 
 In fact, horses and men began to issue from the shadow 
 of the trees and formed a long black line across the plain, 
 which along the edge of the wood was thickly covered with 
 hoar-frost. Gradually the white strip between them and 
 the trees began to broaden. It was plain that they were not 
 making too much haste, but were giving plenty of time to 
 the other squadrons. Pan Michael then turned towards the 
 left. 
 
 "Mellekovich has also arrived/ 'he said. 
 
 And presently he added: 
 
 "And the followers of the sub-governor of Pshemyl are 
 coming. Not one of them is two Paters late." His lips 
 worked with excitement. "We must not go on foot. Now let 
 us mount." 
 
 They quickly returned to the dragoons, and, vaulting into 
 the saddles, rode down the side of the eminence to the wood 
 below, where were Motovidlo's Semenovs. 
 
 Then they moved in a body to the skirt of the trees, where 
 they stopped, and looked ahead. 
 
 It was plain that the enemy had discovered the Tinder- 
 Chamberlain's squadron, for at that very moment, a crowd 
 of horsemen sprang out of the clump of trees in the middle 
 of the plain, like a hunted herd of deer. More appeared at 
 each instant. Forming a line, they first rode across the 
 plain, skirting the thicket; the riders were crouching along 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 the backs of the horses, in ordrr (hat. from a distance, they 
 might look like a herd of riderJoss horsos advancing. It 
 was evident that, so far, they were uncertain whether the 
 troop was advancing against them, or even whether they 
 were observed, or whether it was simply a scouting party. 
 If it was the later, they might hope to escape observation by 
 means of the trees. 
 
 From the spot where Pan Michael was stationed at the 
 head of Motovidlo's followers, the vacillating and doubtful 
 movements of the chambul could be clearly observed, and 
 they looked exactly like the actions of wild animals when 
 they scent danger. When they had got half-way along the 
 clump, they broke into a moderate gallop. When the first 
 of them reached the open plain, they suddenly reined up, 
 and those behind imitated them. 
 
 On that side, they had seen Mellekhovich's detachment 
 coming up. 
 
 They then made a half-circle in the opposite direction, 
 and came in view of the whole Pshemysl squadron, advancing 
 at a trot. 
 
 It was now made clear to the bandits that all the various 
 troops were aware of their presence and were advancing to 
 the attack. They broke into wild cries and fell into disorder. 
 The cavalry, also shouting, came on at a gallop, till the 
 plain thundered under the tramp of the horses. When they 
 saw this, the outlaw chambul swiftly extended into a long 
 line and urged their horses to their utmost speed in the di- 
 rection of the bluff, at the foot of which, the little knight 
 was stationed with Motovidlo and his men. 
 
 The space dividing the parties was being lessened with 
 marvellous rapidity. 
 
 At first, Basia grew rather pale with, excitement, and 
 her heart beat violently; but, remembering that the eyes of 
 others were upon her, and seeing that the others were not 
 in the least disturbed, she quickly recovered herself. More- 
 over, the band that was coming on like a whirlwind, en- 
 grossed her attention. She tightened her rein, took a firmer 
 hold on her little sabre, and the blood again rushed violently 
 from her heart into her face. 
 
 "Well? good!" said the little knight. 
 
 She fixed her eyes on him, her nostrils dilated, and she 
 whispered: 
 
 "Shall we soon charge?" 
 
PAX MICHAEL. 223 
 
 "There's plenty of time yet." 
 
 But the others were fleeing, fleeing like a gray wolf from 
 the hounds. They were within half a furlong of the bushes; 
 the extended heads of the horses could be seen, with their 
 ears laid back, and Tartar faces above them, as if part of 
 the mane. . . . They came nearer and nearer. Basia 
 heard the snorting of the horses, as their drawn lips and 
 protruding eyes showed that they were going at breathless 
 speed. . . . Pan Michael made a sign, and the hedge of 
 Semenov guns were leveled at the galloping outlaws. 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 There was a roar and a cloud of smoke: It was like chaff 
 struck by a whirlwind. In a second, the band, howling and 
 yelling was scattered in every direction. The little knight 
 immediately issued from the bushes, and, at the same instant 
 the Lipkovs and the Under-Chamberlain's men completed the 
 circle and drove back the scattered foe into one group. In 
 vain the horde tried to escape separately, in vain they 
 circled about, darting to the right, left, front, and rear; they 
 were completely surrounded, and, therefore, in spite of them- 
 selves, they were huddled together. In the meantime, the 
 various squadrons galloped up and a terrible slaughter com- 
 menced. 
 
 The raiders saw that the only one who could escape with 
 his life woud have to cut his way through, and so, they 
 began to defend themselves with rage and desperation, 
 though without any combined order; each for himself. So 
 furious was the onset that at the very first shot, the field 
 was strewn with the slain. The military, bracing and spur- 
 ring on their horses in spite of the crowd, cut and slashed 
 with that pitiless and terrible skill which belongs only to 
 the professional soldier. The sound of the blows was audible 
 above the ring of men, like the strokes of flails, when 
 wielded rapidly by a l^and of men on a threshing-floor. The 
 horde was pierced and sabred through head, shoulder, and 
 neck; and through the hands with which they tried to shield 
 their heads; on all sides the swords fell like hail without 
 quarter or mercy. They also struck with what weapons they 
 had, daggers, sabres, loaded sticks or horse-skulls. Their 
 horses, driven back, reared up, or fell backward entirely. 
 Others screamed and bit and kicked at the press and caus# 
 dreadful confusion. After a short, silent, struggle, the bandits 
 gave vent to a terrible cry. They were being borne down with 
 
224 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 superior numbers, better weapons, and greater skill. They 
 realized that there was no help for them, that no man could 
 escape with his spoil, nor even with his life. The soldiers 
 gradually warmed to the work and pressed them more 
 strongly. Some of the bandits dismounted and made an at- 
 tempt to glide away between the legs of the horses. These 
 were trampled to death by the horses' hoofs, and sometimes 
 the soldiers w r ould desist from fighting to stab them from 
 above; some lay on the ground in the hope that, as the 
 soldiers pressed to the centre, they would be left outside the 
 circle, and so find safety in flight. 
 
 In fact, the band was momentarily decreasing in num- 
 bers, as horse and man fell. When Azba Bey saw this, to the 
 best of his ability he formed his horses and men in a wedge, 
 and cast himself with all his force against Motovidlo's Se- 
 menovs in an attempt to break the ring, cost what it might. 
 
 But he was repulsed, and then a dreadful slaughter began. 
 At the same moment Mellekhovich, raging like a fire, pierced 
 the band midway, and, leaving one-half to the other squad- 
 rons, fell on the rear of those who were attacking the Cos- 
 sacks. 
 
 It is true that some of the bandits escaped through the 
 circle over the plain by this movement, and scattered like a 
 cloud of leaves; but those soldiers in the rear who could not 
 get the enemy, because of the closeness of the fight, imme- 
 diately pursued them in twos, or threes, or singly. Those who 
 did not succeed in breaking through notwithstanding their 
 stubborn resistance, fell side by side beneath the sabre, like 
 grain reaped by two lines of harvesters. 
 
 Basia advanced with the Cossacks, piping with a shrill 
 voice, to keep up her courage, for, at first, a cloud came 
 across her eyes, caused by the rapidity of the motion and 
 intense excitement. As she charged up to the enemy, she 
 was only conscious at first of a dar^:, struggling, surging 
 mass. She had an almost irresistible impulse to shut her 
 eyes entirely. It is true that she overcame it, but, neverthe- 
 less, her sabre struck somewhat blindly. Soon her courage 
 got the upper hand, and she immediately saw clearly. Before 
 her she saw horses' heads, with flushed and savage faces be- 
 hind them; one of them was glaring immediately in front 
 f her; Basia slashed at it, 'and it vanished like a phantom. 
 
 At that moment she heard her husband's tranquil voice, 
 
 "Good!" 
 
/'JLY MICHAEL. 
 
 225 
 
 She was delighted to hear it, shouted again, and began 
 to deal destruction with perfect coolness and self-possession. 
 Again she saw a horrible face with a flat nose and prominent 
 cheek-bones gnashing its teeth in front of her. Another 
 hand raised a sling-shot. Basia struck at that. She saw 
 a shoulder in a sheep-skin coat and slashed at that. Then 
 she struck right, left, and in front of her, and, whenever she 
 made a. pass, a man crashed to the earth, wrenching the 
 bridle from his horse. Basia was surprised that it was all 
 so easy, but the reason was that the little knight was riding 
 at one side, stirrup beside stirrup, and Pan Montovidlo at 
 the other. The former carefully watched over his beloved 
 and that extinguished a man like a candle; then, with his 
 sharp sword, he lopped off an arm together with its weapon; 
 again, he thrust his sword between Basia and the foe, and 
 the hostile sabre flew up as suddenly as if it were a winged 
 bird. 
 
 Pan Montovidlo, a seasoned warrior, guarded the cour- 
 ageous lady on the other side; and, as a busy gardener prunes 
 the dry boughs from the trees, so time and again, he felled 
 foes to the blood-soaked earth, and fought with as much 
 sangfroid, as if he were thinking of something else. They 
 both knew when to allow Basia to advance alone, and when 
 to be beforehand and restrain her. A third man was watching 
 over her from the distance; the matchless archer, who, pur- 
 posely keeping apart, every now and then fitted an arrow to 
 the string and sent an unerring messenger of death into the 
 thick of the press. 
 
 But the melee became so fierce that Pan Michael ordered 
 Basia to retire from the fight, with a few attendants, par- 
 ticularly since the half wild horses of the horde were be- 
 ginning to bite and kick. Basia immediately obeyed, for, 
 although she was being carried away by excitement and her 
 bold heart prompted her to continue the fight, her feminine 
 nature was overcoming her martial spirit, and amid that 
 bloodshed and slaughter, amid the howls, groans, and agonies 
 of the dying, amid an atmosphere heavy with the odor of 
 sweat and raw flesh, she began to flinch. 
 
 Slowly reining back her horse, she was soon outside the 
 ring of combatants, so that Pan Michael and Montovidlo, 
 relieved from the task of watching over her, were, at last, able 
 to give free rein to their fighting spirit. 
 
 Pnn Muslialski, who had hitherto kept at a distance, now 
 approached Basia, and said: 
 15 
 
22 6 PA * MICHAEL. 
 
 "Your ladyship fought like a true knight. Any man, not 
 knowing that it was you, would have imagined that Michael 
 the Archangel had descended to the aid of our Semenovs, 
 and was smiting those dog brothers. It is an honor for them 
 to fall by such a little hand, which, on this occasion, I pray 
 not to be barred from kissing." 
 
 Then he seized her hands and pressed them to his mous- 
 staches. 
 
 "Did you see it, Sir? Did I really do well?' 7 asked Basia 
 inhaling long breaths of the pure air. 
 
 "A cat could do no better against rats. As I love God, 
 it made my heart beat faster to see you. But you were quite 
 right to withdraw from the fight, for there is more risk of 
 an accident towards the end.'' 
 
 "My husband ordered it, and when I left home I promised 
 implicit obedience." 
 
 "Can I leave my bow? It is no longer of any use, and I 
 want to advance with the sabre. I see three men coming, 
 who, of course, are sent by the Colonel to guard your lady- 
 ship's person. Otherwise I would send for a guard; but now 
 I will go down to the foot of the cliff, for it will soon be all 
 over, 'and I must make haste." 
 
 In fact, three dragoons were coming up to guard Basia, 
 and seeing this, Pan Mushalski put spurs to his horse and 
 galloped off. For a moment, Basia was in doubt, whether 
 to remain where she was, or ride around the bluff, and go to 
 the spot whence they had looked down the ravine before the 
 battle commenced. But she determined to stay where she 
 was, as she felt very tired. 
 
 Her woman's nature was asserting itself more and more 
 strongly. About two hundred yards away, they were merci- 
 lessly cutting down the last of the marauders, and a black 
 mass of combatants was struggling more and more fiercely 
 on the blood-stained battlefield. Cries of despair rent the 
 air, and Basia, who, a few moments before had been so 
 full of ardor, for some reason or other, now felt faint and 
 weak. She was seized with a great fear and nearly fainted, 
 only maintaining her seat in the saddle out of shame in 
 the presence of the dragoons; she turned her face away from 
 them to hide its pallor. The fresh air gradually restored her 
 strength and courage, but not to the extent of making her 
 anxious to renew the iwht. * If she had gone, it would have 
 been to beg fov mercy for those of the horde who were left. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 22 y 
 
 But, knowing that would be futile, she anxiously awaited the 
 termination of the struggle. 
 
 But there they were still cutting and slashing. There was 
 not a moment's cessation of the sounds of the cries and blows. 
 About half an hour had now passed and the troops were 
 pressing in more closely. Suddenly about twenty of the 
 raiders broke through the deadly ring and swept like a 
 tempest towards the bluff. 
 
 By fleeing along the cliff, they might, indeed, reach a spot 
 where it gradually descended into the plain, and find their 
 escape on the higher ground; but Basia and the dragoons 
 were immediately in their path. The presence of danger 
 brought fresh courage to Basia's heart at that moment 
 and restored her self-control. She saw at once that it was 
 certain death to stay where she was, for the mere shock 
 of the bandits would overthrow and trample her and her 
 guards under foot, without taking account of the certainty 
 of being sabred. The old sergeant of dragoons was evidently 
 of this opinion, for he grasped the bridle of Basia's pony, 
 turned it round, and cried almost in tones of despair: 
 
 "Gallop! gracious lady!" 
 
 Basia, alone, darted away like a whirlwind, but the 
 three faithful soldiers stood on the spot, like a rock, to hinder 
 the foe, if only for a moment, and give their beloved mis- 
 tress time to get away. 
 
 Meantime, other soldiers were closely pursuing the party, 
 but the ring, that had hitherto closely enclosed the raiders, 
 was broken by the movement, and the latter began to escape, 
 first by twos and threes, and then in greater numbers. . . . 
 By far the majority of them were lying on the earth, but a 
 few dozens, including Azba Bey, managed to flee. In a con- 
 fused mass they all made for the bluff as fast as their horses 
 could gallop. 
 
 Three dragoons were not enough to stop all the fugitives, 
 in fact, after a brief contest, they fell from their saddles, and 
 the throng, following Basia, mounted the slope of the bluff ' 
 and reached the higher ground. The front rank of the Polish 
 squadrons and the Lithuanian Tartars, who were nearest, 
 were galloping at full speed some dozen paces behind them. 
 
 On the upland, which was numerously intersected by 
 treacherous holes and ravines, the whole cavalcade formed 
 a gigantic serpent, the head of which was Basia; the neck, 
 the raiders; and the rest of the body, Mellekhovich and the 
 
228 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Lipkov Tartars and dragoons, headed by Pan Michael, who 
 was burying his spurs in the flanks of his horse, while his 
 heart was overwhelmed with terror. 
 
 At the moment when the little band of marauders had 
 broken through the circle, Pan Michael had been on the 
 other side, and so Mellekhovich was before him in the pur- 
 suit. His hair stood up on the head of the little knight, at 
 the thought that Basia might be captured by the fugitives, 
 or lose her presence of mind and make straight for the 
 Dniester, or that any of the robbers might reach her with a 
 sabre, dagger, or loaded stick, and his heart sank within him 
 in fear for her life. Bending down almost to his horse's 
 neck, his face was white, his teeth set, and a tempest of 
 horrible thoughts surged in his brain; he dug his sharp spurs 
 into his horse, beat him with the flat of his sword, and flew 
 along like a bustard before soaring. 
 
 In front of him fled the Tartars. 
 
 "God grant that Mellekliovich may catch them! He is on 
 a good horse. God grant it/' he repeated in his despair. 
 
 But his fears were exaggerated and the danger was not 
 so serious as it appeared to the devoted little knight. The 
 outlaws were thinking too much of the safety of their own 
 skins, and they felt the Tartars too close behind them to 
 trouble about pursuing a single rider, even if she were the 
 most beautiful houri in the Mohammedan paradise, fleeing in 
 a robe covered with jewels. Basia had only to turn towards 
 Khreptyov to avoid pursuit, for most certainly the fugitives 
 would not have turned back into the lion's jaws after her, 
 when before them was a river, with reeds among which they 
 could hide. The Lipkovs had better horses also, and Basia 
 was mounted on a steed that was vastly swifter than the usual 
 shaggy brutes of the horde, which had great stamina in 
 flight, but were slower than high-bred horses. Moreover, 
 not only did she preserve her presence of mind, but her 
 daring nature asserted itself with full force, and the cavalier 
 spirit again burned in her veins. 
 
 The pony was extended like a deer, and the wind was 
 whistling in Basia's ears, but her feeling was one of exul- 
 tation rather than terror. 
 
 "They might chase me for a whole year and never catch 
 me," she thought. "I will gallop on for a time and then turn 
 aside, and either let them go by, or, if they are still fallowing 
 me, I will put them to the sabre," 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 2 2$ 
 
 It occurred to her that in ease the raiders behind her 
 were much scattered over the plain, she might meet one of 
 them in single combat if she were to turn back. 
 
 -Well, what of that!" she said valiantly to herself. 
 "Michael has taught me, so that I may boldly risk it; if I 
 don't they will think that 1 am running away in fear, and 
 will never take me on another expedition, and besides Pan 
 Zagloba will make fun of me. . . . 
 
 She therefore looked backwards at the raiders, but they 
 were all escaping in a bunch. There was no chance of a 
 single combat, but Basia wanted to prove, in the sight of 
 all, that she was not running away in terror and at haphazard. 
 
 To this end, she recollected that in her holster she had 
 two excellent pistols, which Michael himself had carefully 
 loaded before they started, she reined in her charger, or 
 rather, turned its head in the direction of Khreptyov. 
 
 But, to her amazement, on seeing this, the whole band 
 of raiders slightly altered their own course, turning more 
 to the left towards the edge of the bluff. Basia allowed 
 them to approach within a dozen paces and fired a couple 
 of shots at the horses that were nearest; then turning she 
 again broke into a gallop in the direction of Khreptyov. 
 
 But the charger had only gone a few yards as fleet as a 
 swallow when suddenly, in front of them, yawned a dark 
 hollow in the steppe. Basia thoughtlessly spurred her 
 steed, and the noble animal did not refuse but sprang for- 
 ward; however, only his forefeet landed on the opposite tank. 
 For a moment he made violent efforts to get a holding with 
 his hind feet on the steep bank; but the earth was not yet 
 frozen hard enough, and slipped from under his feet, and 
 the horse fell into the chasm with Basia. 
 
 Luckily it did not fall upon her; she managed to free her 
 feet from the stirrups and throwing her whole weight to one 
 side she fell on a thick bed of moss which covered the bottom 
 of the hollow like a lining; but she swooned from the force 
 of the concussion. 
 
 Pan Michael did not see her fall, for the Lipkov Tartars 
 concealed it from his sight; but Mellekhovich cried in a 
 terrible voice, to his men to continue the pursuit of the 
 raiders, and hastening to the chasm, went headlong into it. 
 
 In an instant he had dismounted and seized Basia in his 
 arms. His falcon eyes scrutinized her all over in an instant 
 to see if there was any sign of blood; then he saw the moss, 
 
230 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 and understood at once that it had preserved her and her 
 pony from death. 
 
 A stifled cry of joy escaped the lips of the young Tartar. 
 
 Basia was lying in his arms and he pressed her to his 
 breast with all his might, and then, with his pale lips-, he 
 kissed her eyes again and again as though he wished to ab- 
 sorb them. The whole world seemed to turn round him in 
 a mad whirl, and he was carried away like a tempest by the 
 passion which he had hitherto concealed deep in his heart, 
 like a Dragon in a cave. 
 
 At that moment, however,, the tramp of many horsea 
 echoed on the steppe above, and sounded every moment 
 nearer. Many voices were crying: "Here! this is the chasm, 
 here!" Mellekhovich laid Basia down upon the moss, and 
 called out to those who were approaching: 
 
 "This way, here, this way!" 
 
 In another minute Pan Michael was at the bottom of the 
 chasm, and was followed by Pan Zagloba, Mushalski, and 
 several other officers. 
 
 "There is nothing the matter with her," cried the Tartar, 
 "the moss saved her." 
 
 Pan Michael grasped the hands of his fainting wife, while 
 others ran for water which was some distance away. Za- 
 globa laying his hand on her head, began to cry, 
 
 "Bashka! dearest Bashka! Bashka!" 
 
 "She's all right," said Mellekhovich, as white as a corpse. 
 
 Meanwhile Zagloba put his hand to his side, took out a 
 flask, poured some gorzalka into his hand, and began to rub 
 her temples. Then he put the flask to her lips; this evi- 
 dently was effectual, for, before the men came back with the 
 water, she opened her eyes, and began to gasp and cough, for 
 the gorzalka had burned the roof of her mouth and throat. 
 In a few minutes she had entirely recovered. 
 
 Pan Michael, without thinking about the presence of the 
 officers and soldiers, pressed her to his heart and smothered 
 her hands with kisses, crying: 
 
 "Oh my love, I was nearly losing my senses. Are you not 
 hurt? Have you no pain?" 
 
 "There's nothing the matter," said Basia. "Ah, I re- 
 member now, it suddenly grew dark, for the horse slipped. 
 ... But is the battle over?" 
 
 "Already Azba Bey is slain. We will go home immediately, 
 for I am afraid you will be overcome by the fatigue." 
 
 "I am not in the least tired," said Basia. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 23! 
 
 Then sharply glancing at those present her nostrils diluted 
 as she exclaimed: 
 
 "Gentlemen, don't think that I ran away out of fear. 0! 
 I did not even dream of it. As I love Michael, I only gal- 
 loped ahead of them in spo^rt, and then I fired my pistols.'' 
 
 "One horse was shot, and we captured the robber alive," 
 said Mellekhovich. 
 
 "Besides," continued Basia, "an accident of that kind 
 might happen to anyone when galloping, mightn't it? No 
 experience can guard against that, and a horse will sometimes 
 slip. Ah! it's lucky that you kept your eye on me, gentle- 
 men, for I might have lain here for a long time." 
 
 "Pan Mellekhovich was the first to see you and save you, 
 for he was ahead of us," said Pan Michael. 
 
 When Basia heard this, she turned to the young Tartar, 
 and held out her hand. 
 
 "I thank yon for your kind assistance." 
 
 He did not answer, but merely pressed her hand to his 
 lips, and then submissively embraced her feet, like a pea- 
 sant. 
 
 Meanwhile others of the squadron collected at the edge of 
 the chasm; Pan MichaeJ merely ordered Mellekhovich to sur- 
 round the few robbers who had hidden from pursuit, and then 
 started for Khreptyov. On the way, Basia again saw the 
 field of battle from the bluff. 
 
 Many bodies of men and horses lay about, some in heaps, 
 and some by themselves; through the blue sky flocks of 
 crows were coming in greater and greater numbers, cawing 
 loudly and settling some distance oft', awaiting the moment 
 when the soldiers, who were still moving about the plain, 
 should have departed. 
 
 "Those are the soldiers' grave-diggers," said Zagloba, point- 
 ing his sabre at the birds, "just as soon as we are gone, the 
 wolves also will come with their band, and, with their tedh, 
 will toll the bell over these corpses. This is a great victory, 
 though gained over such an infamous enemy, for that Azba 
 has ravaged this district for many years. Commanders have 
 hunted him like a wolf, but always in vain, till finally, he met 
 Michael, and his black hour came." 
 
 "Is Azba Bey slain?" 
 
 "Mellekhovicli was the first to overtake him, and, if "he 
 didn't give him a cut, above the ear! He was cloven to the 
 teeth." 
 
23* 
 
 PAS' MICHAEL. 
 
 "Mellekhovich is a good soldier/' cried Basia. 
 
 Then she turned to Zagloha: 
 
 "Did you do much?" 
 
 "I didn't chirp like a cricket, nor jump like a flea, because 
 I leave such games for insects. But if I didn't, people didn't 
 have to hunt for me among the moss, like mushrooms; no 
 one pulled my nose> nor poured anything into my mouth." 
 
 "I don't love you," cried Basia, pouting, as she put her 
 hand instinctively up to her little red nose. 
 
 And he looked at her and smiled and muttered, still jest- 
 ing: 
 
 "You fought valiantly, you ran away valiantly, you fell 
 valiantly head-over-heels, and now, because of the aches in 
 your bones, you will stow away grits so valiantly, that we 
 shall have to take care so that the sparrows don't peck you 
 and your valor up for they are very fond of grits. 
 
 "You are trying to stop Michael from taking me on another 
 expedition. I know you well!" 
 
 "That's so, that is so! I will beg him always to take you 
 nutting because you are very clever and do not break the 
 branches. My God, My God, what gratitude! Who induced 
 Michael to let you go? I! Now I am reproaching myself 
 for it, especially as this is the way I get paid for my kindness. 
 Wait, at Khreptyov, you shall cut stalks now with a wooden 
 sword. There's an expedition for you! Any other woman 
 would hug the old man. But this scolding devil first fright- 
 ens me to death and then goes for me." 
 
 Basia immediately threw her arms around Zagloba's neck. 
 He was enraptured, and cried, "Well, well! I must confess 
 that you helped to gain the victory to-day, because the sol- 
 diers fought with double fury, for each one wanted to show 
 his valor." 
 
 "On my life," cried Pan Mushalski, "a man does not mind 
 dying with such eyes watching him." 
 
 "Long live our lady," cried Pan Nyenashinyets. 
 
 "Long life to her!" cried a hundred voices. 
 
 "God grant her health!" 
 
 Here Za^loba leaned towards her and murmured: 
 
 "After delicate health!" 
 
 And they rode forward in great joy, shouting aloud in 
 anticipation of a great feast that evening. It was beautiful 
 weather. The music of the drums and trumpets struck up 
 among the troops and they all entered Khreptyov in tumul- 
 tuous confusion. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 To their great surprise Ilie Volodiyovskis found guests at 
 Khreptyov. Pan Bogush had arrived with the intention of 
 taking up his abode there for some months in order to enter 
 into communications through Mellekhovich with the Tartar 
 leaders Aleksandrovich, Moravski, Tvorovski, Krychinski, 
 and others of the Lipkov and Cheremi Tartars who had taken 
 service under the Sultan. Pan Bogush was also accompanied 
 by old Pan Novovyeyski and his daughter Eva, and Pani 
 Boska, a sedate lady, with her daughter Panna Zosia, who was 
 in her early youth very beautiful. The delight of the 
 soldiers was almost as great as their astonishment at the sight 
 of the ladies in the wild region of Khreptyov. The guests 
 too were considerably astonished when they first saw the 
 colonel and his wife, for from his face they had imagined him 
 to be some kind of a giant whose very look was terrifying, 
 and his wife a giantess with frowning brow and a harsh voice. 
 Instead of which they beheld a little soldier with a kind and 
 gentle face and a diminutive woman, a rosy little bird, who 
 looked more like a little boy than an adult, with her wide 
 trousers and sabre. The hosts welcomed their guests with 
 open arms. Basia immediately kissed the three women before 
 being introduced to them and when she heard who they were 
 and whence they had come, she said: 
 
 "It would give me pleasure if I could bow down the 
 heavens for you, ladies and gentlemen. I am delighted to see 
 you! It is fortunate that that you have met with no disagree- 
 able experiences on the road, for in this wilderness it is not 
 an unusual thing; but we have cut the marauders to pieces 
 this very day." 
 
 Noticing Pani Boska's look of amazement, she slapped her 
 sabre, and said very boastfully: 
 
 "I also was present at the battle! Of course I was! That 
 is usual with us! For Heaven's sake! I must ask you ladies 
 kindly to excuse me while I retire and resume 'the garb of my 
 own sex and wash a little of the blood of! my hands; for I 
 
 (233) 
 
234 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 have been in a terrible fight. Oh, if we hadn't slain Azba 
 to-day, perhaps you might not have reached Khreptyov with- 
 out accident. I will return in an instant, and meanwhile, 
 Michael will entertain you/' 
 
 She disappeared and the little knight, who had already 
 welcomed Pan Novovyeyski advanced to Pani Boska, and 
 said: 
 
 "God has given me such a treasure of a wife that not only 
 is she a loving domestic companion but a brave comrade in 
 the field. At her behest I submit myself to your ladyship's 
 commands." 
 
 Pani Boska replied: 
 
 "May God bless her in everything as He has in beauty; I 
 have not come to ask for hospitality from your lordship, but 
 on my knees to implore your assistance in my misfortune. 
 Zosia, accompany me also on your knees before the knight, 
 for if he cannot help us no one can." 
 
 Pani Boska then knelt down and the lovely Zosia followed 
 her example, both weeping bitterly and crying: 
 
 "Save us knights! Have compassion on orphans!" 
 
 A throng of officers, whose curiosity was aroused by the 
 sight of the kneeling women, and especially by- the lovely 
 Zosia, approached; the little knight was greatly troubled and 
 raised Pani Boska, and led her to a seat. 
 
 "For God's sake, what are you doing?" he cried. "It is 
 rather for me to kneel before a noble woman. Tell me, lady, 
 how I can help you and, as God is in Heaven, I will not hesi- 
 tate." 
 
 "He will do it; for my part I offer my own services. I am 
 Zagloba, and that's enough !" cried the old warrior touched by 
 the distress of the two women. 
 
 Pani Boska then signed to Zosia who hastily took a letter 
 from her bosom and handed it to the little knight. 
 
 He looked at it and said: 
 
 "From the Hetman!" 
 
 He then broke the seal and began to read: 
 
 "Most dear and beloved Volodiyovski ! By the hand of 
 Pan Bogush I send you my true affection and recommend- 
 ations which he will confide to you in person. I have 
 scarcely had time to rest from my fatigues at Yavorov when 
 another matter immediately arises. It is very near my heart 
 because of my aifection for all soldiers, whom if I forget may 
 the Lord forget me! Pan Boska, a very worthy knight and a 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 235 
 
 dear companion was captured by the horde some years ago 
 near Kamenets. I have afforded shelter to his wife and 
 daughter in Yavorov; but their hearts grieve for a husband 
 and a father respectively. I wrote, by means of Pyotrovich, 
 to Pan Zlotnitski, our resident in the Crimea, to search every- 
 where for Pan Boska, It seems that he was found, but after- 
 wards he was hidden by the Tartars; so that he could not be 
 released with the rest of the prisoners and he is now doubt- 
 less rowing in a galley. The women are hopeless and in 
 despair and have ceased to trouble me with their entreaties, 
 but when I returned lately and saw that their sorrow was as 
 sharp as ever I could not help making some attempt to aid 
 them. You are in the district and I know have formed 
 brotherhood with several Tartar chiefs. I therefore send the 
 ladies to you and pray you to help them. Pyotrovich will 
 soon be going to the Crimea. Supply him with letters to all 
 your brotherhood. I cannot write either to the vizir or Khan, 
 as we are not friendly, and moreover I am afraid that if I did 
 they would think that Boska was a very important person- 
 age, and raise the ransom beyond all reason in consequence 
 Impress upon Pyotrovich the importance of the matter and 
 order him not to return without Boska. Communicate also 
 with your brothers, as, although they are Infidels, they always 
 keep their sworn faith and must hold you in great respect. 
 Lastly, do what you think best; go to Rashkov and offer to 
 exchange three of the most important Tartars for Boska if 
 sent back alive. Nobody knows their ways better than you 
 do, for I understand that you have already managed the ran- 
 som of relatives. God bless you, and I will love you more 
 than ever, for my heart will cease to bleed over this business. 
 I have heard that all is quiet in your command in Khreptyov. 
 I anticipated that. Only keep a sharp eye on Azba. Pan 
 Bogueh will give you all the news about public affairs. For 
 God's sake, keep an attentive ear towards Moldavia, for a 
 great invasion is certainly coming. Committing Pani Boska 
 to your kindness and best efforts, I subscribe myself, etc." , 
 
 During the reading of this letter Pani Boska's tears never 
 ceased to flow and she was joined by Zosia who lifted her blue 
 eyes to Heaven. 
 
 Before Pan Michael had ended Basia came running in in 
 female attire and at the sight of the tears of the ladies began 
 to ask anxiously what was the matter. So Pan Michael read 
 the letter again to her, and after listening to it attentively 
 
236 /^A T MICHAEL. 
 
 she immediately and eagerly added her prayers io those of the 
 Hetman and Paul Boska. 
 
 "The Hetman has a heart of gold/' Basia cried as she em- 
 braced her husband, "and we must not be behindhand with 
 him, dear Michael. Pani Boska shall stay with us until her 
 husband's return. 
 
 And in three months you will bring him back from' th2 
 Crimea; in three or even two; eh?" 
 
 "Or to-morrow, or in an hour/ 7 said Pan Michael jestingly. 
 
 Then he turned to Pani Boska: 
 
 "Resolutions are sudden with my wife, you see!" 
 
 "God bless her for it," said Pani Boska. "Zosia, kiss the 
 hand of the lady-commander." 
 
 But the lady-commander had no intention of giving her 
 hands to be kissed; she again embraced Zosia, for they had 
 taken a liking to each other from the very first. 
 
 "Help us, noble gentlemen," she cried, "help, help! and 
 quickly too." 
 
 "Quickly, for her head is on fire," Zagloba muttered. 
 
 But Basia, shaking her golden locks, cried: 
 
 "It is not my head, but the hearts of these ladies, are burn- 
 ing with grief." 
 
 "No one will oppose you in your kind intentions," said 
 Pan Michael, "but we must first hear all the circumstances of 
 Pani Boska's story." 
 
 "Zosia, relate everything as it happened, for my tears pre- 
 vent me," said the matron. 
 
 Zosia lowered her eyes to the ground, till the lids entirely 
 hid them, then she flushed as red as a cherry, not knowing 
 how to commence, and was very confused at having to talk in 
 the presence of so many people. 
 
 But Basia came to her aid. 
 
 "Zoska, when was Pan Boska captured?" 
 
 "Five years ago, in '67," Zosia replied in a faint voice, with- 
 out lifting her long lashes. 
 
 And, without stopping to take breath, she began to tell the 
 stoVy. 
 
 "At that time, forays were not heard of, and dear papa's 
 squadron was near Panyovtsi. Papa with Pan Bulayovski 
 was looking after men who were guarding cattle in the fields 
 when the Tartars came along the Wallachian road and cap- 
 tured papa with Pan Bulayovski; but Pan Bulayovski returned 
 two years ago and papa is not yet with us." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 237 
 
 Here two tiny tears began to trickle down Zosia's red 
 cheeks, at the sight of which Zagloba was greatly moved and 
 exclaimed: 
 
 "Poor little bird! . . . Never fear child, papa will yet ce- 
 turn and dance at your wedding." 
 
 ''But, did the lietman write to Pan Zlotnitski, by Pyotro 
 vich?" asked Pan Michael. 
 
 "The Hetman wrpte about -papa to the Sword-Bearer oj 
 Posen by Pan Pyotrovich," continued Zozia and the Sword- 
 Bearer and Pan Pyotrovich discovered papa with Aga Murza 
 Bey." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! I know that Murza Bey. I was in 
 ^brotherhood' with his brother," said Pan Michael. Wouldn't 
 he release Pan Boska?" 
 
 "The Khan issued orders for papa's release, but Murza Bey 
 is harsh and cruel; he concealed papa and told Pan Pyotrovich 
 that he had sold him into Asia long before. But other cap- 
 tives told Pan Pyotrovich that it wasn't true, and that the 
 Murza Bey said that for an excuse, so that he might ill-treat 
 papa all the longer, for of all the Tartars, there is none so 
 cruel to captives as he. It may be that at that time papa was 
 not in the Crimea, because the Murza has galleys of his own, 
 and needs rowers. But papa certainly had not been sold, for 
 all the captives said that the Murza would rather kill a 
 prisoner than sell him." 
 
 "God's truth," cried Pan Mushalski, "that Murza Aga Bey 
 is notorious throughout the Crimea. He is a very wealthy 
 Tartar, but extremely bitter against our people, because four 
 of his brothers fell in battle against us." 
 
 "But has he never been of our brotherhood?" Pan Michael 
 inquired. 
 
 "It is doubtful," cried one officer after another. 
 
 "Explain once for all to me, what that brotherhood is," 
 said Basia. 
 
 "You must know," said Zagloba, "that when treaties are 
 made on the conclusion of a war, members of both armies 
 pay each other visits and become friends. It then happens 
 that an officer will become attached to a Murza, and a Murza 
 to an officer; then they vow a life friendship to each other, 
 which they term Brotherhood. The more famous a man is, 
 such as Michael, or I, or Pan Rushchyts, who is now in com- 
 mand in Raslikov,the more eagerly hisbrotherhood is sought: 
 It is evident that such a man will not form brotherhood with 
 
238 J^V MICHAEL. 
 
 a common man, but will only seek for it among the most 
 celebrated Murzas. The ceremony is as follows: They pour 
 water over their sabres and swear mutual friendship. Do 
 you comprehend?'' 
 
 "And what if war ensues?" 
 
 "They can fight in a general Avar, but if they meet face to 
 face, or come across each other in skirmishing, they greet one 
 another and part amicably. Moreover, if one of them be- 
 comes a captive, the other is forced to do all he can to allevi- 
 ate his lot, and if it comes to the worst, to ransom him; in- 
 deed there have been some cases in which these brothers have 
 shared their property with each other. When it is a matter 
 of friends or acquaintances, or of discovering someone, one 
 brother goes to another; and in justice we must confess that 
 no race keeps its oaths more exactly than the Tartars. Their 
 word is everything, and you can surely count on such a 
 friend." 
 
 "But lias Michael many of these?" 
 
 "I have three powerful Murzas," replied Pan Michael; "one 
 of them dates from Lubni days. I begged him from Prince 
 Yeremy on one occasion. His name is Aga Bey and even 
 now, if it were necessary, he would lay down his life for my 
 sake. The other two are equally trustworthy." 
 
 "Ah!" Basia cried, "I should like to form brotherhood with 
 the Khan in person and free the whole of the prisoners." 
 
 "He would not mind that," said Zakloba, "but who can tell 
 what he would demand in return." 
 
 "AlloAV me, gentlemen," said Pan Michael, "let us consider 
 what is to be done. Listen now, we have intelligence from 
 Kamcnets that in two weeks at the latest Pyotrovich, will 
 arrive with a large following. He will go to the Crimea to 
 ransom several Armenian merchants from Kamenets, who 
 were plundered and captured when another Khan came into 
 power. Seferovich, the brother of Pretor, was one of the 
 sufferers. They are all very rich and money is no object, so 
 that Pyotrovich will go well provided. He is not in any 
 danger, for in the first place, winter is approaching and this 
 is not the season for chambuls, and in the second, he will be 
 accompanied by Naviragh, the envoy of the Patriarch of 
 TTzmiadzin, and the two Anardrats of Kaffa, who are sup? 
 plied with safe-conducts by the young Khan. I will give let? 
 ters to Pyotrovich for the natives of the Commonwealth and 
 for my ^brothers/ Besides, gentlemen, you are awarg that 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 239 
 
 Pan Rushchyts, the commander at Kashkov, has relations 
 among the Horde, who were captured in early youth, and 
 have become thoroughly Tartar, and have risen to office. 
 These will all move heaven and earth, and will attempt to 
 negotiate; in case the Murza proves stubborn they will stir up 
 against him the Khan himself, or perhaps they will find some 
 means of privately wringing his neck; consequently, I hope 
 that if, by God's grace, Pan Boska is still alive, I shall get 
 possession of him in a month or two, in accordance with the 
 commands of the Hetman and my immediate superior, here 
 present." (Here Pan Michael bowed to his wife). 
 
 His commander sprang to embrace the little knight again. 
 Pani and Panna Boska clasped their hands and returned 
 thanks to God for having permitted them to meet with such 
 kind people. They both become very cheerful. 
 
 "If only the old Khan were alive," said Pan Nyenashinyets, 
 "it would be much easier, for he was greatly attached to us, 
 and they tell the contrary about the young one. In fact, 
 those very Armenian merchants who are the objects of Pan 
 Zakhar Pyrotrovich's journey, were taken prisoners in 
 Bakhche-Serai under the young Khan, and most likely by his 
 orders." 
 
 "The young Khan will alter as the old one did, who was the 
 most inveterate foe of the Poles before he came to be con- 
 vinced of our honesty," said Zagloba, "I know this better than 
 any one, for I was his captive for seven years." 
 
 Then he took a seat beside Pani Boska. 
 
 "Let the sight of me comfort your ladyship. Seven years 
 is no joke, and yet, I came back and destroyed so many of 
 those dog-brothers, that I despatched at least two of them to 
 hell for every single day of my captivity, and who can say 
 that there are not three or four for each Sunday and holiday, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Seven years!" repeated Pani Boska with a sigh. 
 
 "May I die, if I exaggerated it by a day. Seven years in 
 the very palace of the Khan," asserted Zagloba, winking 
 n\ysteriously. "And you must know that the young Kahn is 
 my . . ." 
 
 Here he whispered something into Pani Boska's ear and 
 burst into a loud "Ha! ha! ha!" and began to rub his knees. 
 At last he slapped Pani Boska on the knees, and cried: 
 
 "Those were good days, weren't they? In youth, every 
 man you met was a foe ; and every day saw a fresh frolic, eh?" 
 
240 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 The sedate lady was greatly confused and drew oack some- 
 what from the jovial knight; the younger ladies lowered their 
 eyes, readily imagining that the frolics to which Pan Zagloba 
 was referring were subversive of their natural modesty, more 
 especially since the soldiers burst out laughing. 
 
 "It will be necessary to send Pan Eushchyts immediately," 
 Baid Basia, "so that Pan Pyrotrovich may find the letters 
 ready for him in Rashkov." 
 
 "Make haste with the whole business, gentlemen," added 
 Pan Bogush, "while it is still winter, for in the first place, 
 there are no chambuls about, and the roads are safe; and in 
 the second, God only knows what may happen in the Spring." 
 
 "Has the Hetman any news from Tsarograd?" asked Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 "He has. But we must talk of that in private. Haste is 
 needed in bringing to an end the business regarding those 
 chiefs. When will Mellekhovich return? because a great 
 deal depends on him." 
 
 "All he has to do is to kill the remainder of the marauders 
 and then bury the dead. He ought to be back to-night or 
 to-morrow morning. I ordered him to bury only our men, 
 not Azba's, for winter is close at hand and there is no danger 
 of infection; besides the wolves will get rid of them." 
 
 "It is the Hetman's desire," said Pan Bogush, "that no ob- 
 stacles should be placed in the way of Mellekhovich's work. 
 He is to go to Rashkov as often as he desires. The Hetman 
 also requests that he should be trusted completely, for his 
 devotion is sure. He is a great warrior, and may be very 
 useful to us." 
 
 "Let him go to Rashkov and wherever he likes," the little 
 knight replied. "Now that we have destroyed Azba, I have 
 no great need of him. Till the first grass springs no large 
 body will appear now." 
 
 "Is Azba destroyed, then?" asked Pan Novovyeyski. 
 
 "So terribly cut up, that I doubt if twenty-five men es- 
 caped, and even they will be captured one by one, even if 
 Mellekhovich has not already caught them." 
 
 "I am delighted to hear that," said Novovyeyski, "for it 
 will now be possible to travel to Rashkov in safety." 
 
 Then he turned to Basia: 
 
 "We shall be able to take the letters, which her ladyship 
 here has spoken of, to Pan Rushchyts." 
 
 "Thank you," Basia replied, "here there are frequent op- 
 portunities, for we send couriers express." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 241 
 
 "Communication must be kept up between all the com- 
 mands," explained Pan Michael. "But are you really going 
 to Rashkov with this lovely maiden?" 
 
 "Oh, she is no beauty, but only a common puss, noble bene- 
 factor," said Novovyeyski, "and I am going to Rashkov be- 
 cause my rascal of a son is serving there under the banner of 
 Pan Rushchyts. It is nearly ten years since he ran away 
 from home, and he knocks at my paternal forgiveness with 
 letters only." 
 
 Pan Michael almost clapped his hands. 
 
 "I guessed immediately that you were the father of Pan 
 Adam, and I was going to ask you, but we were so absorbed 
 with grief for Pani Boska. . I guessed it immediately because 
 your features resemble one another. So he is your son. ?" 
 
 "So his departed mother stated, and as she was a virtuous 
 woman, I have no reason to doubt it." 
 
 "I am doubly glad to have you for my guest. But for 
 Heaven's sake don't call your son a rascal, because he is a 
 famous soldier, and a worthy cavalier, who reflects the highest 
 honor on your lordship. Don't you know that he is the best 
 fighter in the company, next to Pan Rushchyts. Don't you 
 know that the Hetman regards him as the eye of his head. 
 He is entrusted with independent commands and has carried 
 them all out with the greatest credit." 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski blushed with pleasure. 
 
 "Noble Colonel," he said, "many a time a father only finds 
 fault with his child for the sake of hearing somebody contra- 
 dict him, and I think that a parent's heart cannot be more 
 greatly pleased than by such contradiction. I have already 
 heard reports of Adam's good service, but this is the first time 
 on which I am really satisfied, hearing as I do, the confirm- 
 ation of these reports from such celebrated lips. They say 
 that not only is he a valiant warrior, but a steady character, 
 which is a great surprise to me, as he was always a tempest. 
 The little rascal always had a taste for war from his earliest 
 years, and the proof is that he was only a boy when he ran 
 away from home. If I could have caught him then, I would 
 not have let him off. But I must now, otherwise he would 
 hide from me for another ten years, and I am an old man, and 
 lonely without him." 
 
 "And hasn't he been home for so many years?" 
 
 "I forbade him. But I have had enough of that, and now, 
 since he is in service and cannot come to me, I am going to 
 16 
 
242 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 him. I had intended to ask both of your graces to afford a 
 shelter to this maiden while I proceeded by myself to 
 .Rashkov, but since you say that everything is safe, I will 
 take her with me; she is curious to see the world, the magpie. 
 And so she shall." 
 
 "And let people look at her," Zagloba interrupted. 
 
 "Ah, there wouldn't be anything to look at," said the 
 maiden, whose dark eyes and lips pouting as if to be kissed 
 seemed to assert the contrary. 
 
 "An ugly puss, nothing but a puss," cried Pan Novovy- 
 eyski. "But if she were to see a handsome officer, something 
 might occur, and so I rather chose to bring her along than to 
 leave her behind, particularly as it is dangerous for a girl to 
 be alone at home. But if I go alone to Rashkov I advise her 
 ladyship to order her to be tied up with a cord, or else she 
 will get skittish." 
 
 "I was just the same," said Basia. 
 
 "They gave her a distaff to spin with," said Zagloba, "she 
 took it for a partner to dance with, as she hadn't anyone 
 better. But you're a jovial fellow, Pan Novovyeyski. Basia, 
 I should like to have a passage or two with Pan Novovyeyski, 
 for sometimes I am also fond of a jest. . . . '' 
 
 In the meanwhile, before they had served supper, the door 
 opened and Mellekhovich came in. At first Pan Novovyeyski 
 did not notice him, as he was talking to Zagloba, but Eva saw 
 him and suddenly her cheeks flamed and then she grew pale. 
 
 "Commandant," said Mellekhovich to Michael, "those men 
 were captured according to your orders." 
 
 "Well, where are they?" 
 
 "I had them hanged according to orders." 
 
 "Well done, and have your men returned?" 
 
 "Some of them stayed to bury the bodies, the others are 
 with me." 
 
 At this moment, Pan Novovyeyski lifted his head and his 
 face betrayed intense surprise. 
 
 "For God's sake, w r hat do I see?" he cried. 
 
 Then he arose and advanced towards Mellekhovich and 
 cried: 
 
 "Azya, what are you doing here, you villain?" 
 
 He raised his hand to seize the Tartar by the throat. But 
 suddenly a change came over Mellekhovich just as if a hand- 
 full of powder were cast into the flames; he grew as pallid as 
 a corpse, and seizing Novovyeyski's hands in a grasp of iron, 
 Jie exclaimed: 
 
PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 243 
 
 "I don't know you; who are you?" 
 
 And he pushed him so violently that Novovyeyski stag- 
 gered into the middle of the room. 
 
 For some moments his rage prevented him from uttering 
 a word; hut, recovering his breath, he cried: 
 
 "Noble Colonel, this is my man, and moreover, a runaway. 
 He was in my house from his infancy. The villain denies it! 
 He is my man. Eva, who is he? Speak!" 
 
 "Azya!" cried Panna Eva, trembling all over. 
 
 Mellekhovich did not even glance at her; with his eyes fast- 
 enedTon Novovyeyski, and with quivering nostrils, he glared 
 at the old nohle with unspeakable hate, grasping the handle 
 of his knife. 
 
 At the same time his moustaches began to quiver and be- 
 neath them gleamed white teeth like those of an enraged 
 wild beast. 
 
 The officers stood round in a circle: Basia darted in be- 
 tween Mellekhovich and Novovyeyski. 
 
 "What does this mean ?" she asked with frowning brow. 
 
 Her presence somewhat quieted the disturbance. 
 
 "Commandant, this is my man," said Novovyeyski, "by 
 name, Azya, and a runaway. In my youth I was serving in 
 the Ukraine, I found him half dead in the steppe and took 
 him. He is a low Tartar. Twenty years he lived in my house 
 and was educated with my son. When my son ran away this 
 man helped me in managing my land, till he wanted to make 
 love to Eva, when I had him flogged and he ran away. What 
 name does he bear here?" 
 
 "Mellekhovich." 
 
 "That's an assumed name; he is called Azya, and nothing 
 else. He says he does not know me; but I know him, and so 
 does Evukha." 1 
 
 "For God's sake! your lordship's son has often seen him," 
 eaid Basia, "why didn't he recognize him?" 
 
 "Perhaps my son might not, for they were both fifteen years 
 of age when he ran away from home, and this man stayed six 
 years longer with me, during which he altered considerably, 
 growing up and getting a moustache. But Evukha knew 
 him immediately. Noble sirs, you will more readily believe a 
 citizen than this waif from the Crimea!" 
 
 "Pan Mellekhovich is one of the Hetman's officers," said 
 Basia. "We can't interfere with him." 
 
 l Evka, Evukha ; diminutives of Eva. 
 
244 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Allow me, let me question him. Let us also hear th 
 other side," said the little knight." 
 
 But Pan Novovyeyski was burning with rage. 
 
 "Pan Mellekhovich! what sort of a Pan is he? My servant 
 boy, who has concealed himself under a strange name. To- 
 morrow, I'll make my dog the keeper of that Pan, and the 
 day after, I'll give orders for that Pan to be beaten with 
 clubs. And the Hetman himself cannot prevent me, for I 
 am a Noble, and know my rights." 
 
 To this, Pan Michael replied, sharply, as his lips quivered: 
 
 "I am not only a noble, but a Colonel, and I also know my 
 rights. You can make the demand for your man by legal 
 process, and appeal to the Hetman's jurisdiction, but I com- 
 mand here and no one else." 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski immediately moderated his tone, remem- 
 bering that he was talking not only to a military commander, 
 but his own son's superior officer, and moreover, to the most 
 celebrated knight in the Commonwealth. 
 
 "Pan Colonel," he said more mildly, "I will not seize him 
 against your will, but I assert my rights, and I ask you to be- 
 lieve me." 
 
 "Mellekhovich, what have you to say to this?" asked Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 The Tartar fixed his eyes on the floor, and was silent. 
 
 "We all know that your name is Azya," continued Pan 
 Michael, 
 
 "There are other proofs to be looked for," said Novov- 
 yeyski "if he is my man, there are two fish tatooed in blue on 
 his -breast." 
 
 When he heard this, Pan Nyenashinyets opened his eyes 
 and mouth to their full extent; and then he clutched at his 
 hair and cried: 
 
 "Azya, son of Tukhay Bey!" 
 
 All eyes were turned upon him; he trembled all over, as if 
 all his wounds had re-opened, and he repeated: 
 
 "That is my captive; that is the son of Tukhay Bey. As 
 God lives, it is he." 
 
 But the young Tartar proudly raised his head and cast a 
 glance like that of a wild-cat on those present and, suddenly 
 tearing apart the dress that covered his broad breast, he cried: 
 
 "Here are the blue tatooed fish. I am the son of Tukhay 
 Bey/' 
 
CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 Everybody was silent, so great was the impression made by 
 the name of that terrible warrior. Tukhay Bey was that man, 
 who, together with the dreaded Khmyelnitski, had shaken the 
 Commonwealth to its foundations; he had shed a whole ocean 
 of Polish blood; he had trampled under the hoofs of his horses 
 the Ukraine, Volhynia., Podolia,. and the lands of Galicia; he 
 had destroyed towns and fortresses, he had wasted villages 
 with fire, and taken captive tens of thousands of people. The 
 son of that man was now standing in the presence of the gar- 
 rison of Khreptyov, saying to their faces, "On my breast are 
 blue fish; I am Azya, bone of the bone of Tukhay Bey!" But 
 at that time people held great blood in such high respect, that 
 notwithstanding the terror which must have been roused in 
 each soldier's heart by the name of the celebrated Murza, 
 Mellekhovich now grew before their eyes as if he had assumed 
 the whole of his father's greatness. 
 
 They all looked at him in amazement, particularly the 
 women, who are always greatly charmed by a sense of mystery; 
 moreover, as though his confession had raised him in his own 
 eyes, he became more haughty and did not lower his head in 
 the least, but finally said: 
 
 "That noble," pointing at Novovyeyski, says that I am his 
 man, that is true, but I reply, 'My father set on horseback 
 better men than he is/ He also says truly that I was with 
 him, for it was so, and beneath his rods my back streamed 
 with blood, which, as God lives, I shall not forget. To escape 
 his pursuit I assumed the name of Mellekhovich. But now, 
 although I might have gone to the Crimea, I am serving this 
 country with my blood and health, and no one is ovor me but 
 the Hetman. My father was related to the Khan, nml luxury 
 and riches awaited me in the Crimea, but I despised them and 
 stayed here, for I love this country, and the Hetman, and all 
 who have never treated me with contempt." 
 
 As he ended he bowed to Pan Michael and then bowed so 
 low to Basia, that his head almost touched his knees, and 
 
 (943) 
 
24 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 then without another glance at any one he put his sabre 
 under his arm and left. 
 
 For some moments the silence was unbroken. Zagloba was 
 the first to speak. 
 
 "Aha! where is Pan Snitko? Didn't I say that a wolf 
 looked out of the eyes of that Azya, and isn't he the son of a 
 wolf?" 
 
 "The son of a lion," said Pan Michael, "and who knows 
 that he doesn't take after his father?" 
 
 "By the living God, gentlemen, did you see how his teeth 
 gleamed, just like old Tukhay's used to when he was in a 
 rage," said Pan Mushalski. "That alone would have made 
 me recognize him, for I often saw old Tukhay." 
 
 "Not so often as I did," answered Zagloba. 
 
 "I understand now," said Bogush, "why the Lipkovs and 
 Cheremis are so devoted to him. They regard the name of 
 Tukhay as sacred. By the living God! If that man wanted 
 to do so, he could carry over every Tartar to the service of the 
 Sultan, and give us much trouble." 
 
 "He won't do that," replied Pan Michael, "for it is true, as 
 he has said, that he loves the country and the Hetman; or he 
 would not be serving with us when he is able to go to the 
 Crimea and swim in luxury there. This he has not enjoyed 
 with us." 
 
 "He wont do it," answered Pan Bogush, "for, if he had 
 wanted to, he could have done so already, there was nothing to 
 hinder him." 
 
 "On the contrary," added Nyenashinyets, "it is my opinion 
 that he will lure back to the Gommonwealth the traitorous 
 captains who deserted it. 
 
 "Pan Novovyeyski," suddenly cried Zagloba, "if you had 
 known that he was the son of Tukhay Bey, perhaps then 
 perhaps eh ' . . . ' J 
 
 "Instead of, three hundred I should have ordered him to 
 receive a thousand and three hundred blows. May the light- 
 ning strike me if I wouldn't do it. Gentlemen, it's a wonder 
 to me that, as he was Tukhay Bey's cub, he didn't run away 
 10 the Crimea. It must be that he did not discover it long 
 before, for he knew nothing about it while he was with me. 
 I f 's a great surprise to me, I assure you, but for Heaven's 
 seke, don't trust him. Gentlemen, I have known him longer 
 taaa you heve^ and I will only say this; the devil i& not so 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 247 
 
 cunning, a mad dog is not so dangerous, nor a wolf so savage 
 and cruel as that man. He will make fools of you all yet." 1 
 
 "You don't know what you are talking about, said Mushal- 
 ski, "we have all seen him under fire at Kalnik, Uman, 
 Bratslav, and on a hundred other occasions." 
 
 "He will not forget his own people, he will have revenge," 
 
 "But he slew Azba's marauders to-day. How do you ac- 
 count for that?" 
 
 Meanwhile Basia was all aflame, for the history of Melle- 
 khovich strongly interested her, but she wanted such a begin- 
 ning to have an appropriate conclusion and so, nudging Evka 
 Xovovyeyski, she whispered in her .ear: 
 
 "But you were in love with, him, Evka, confess now, don't 
 deny it, you were in love with him! You are still, aren't you? 
 I'm sure you are; be frank with me, whom can you confide 
 in, if not me, a woman, too? His blood is almost royal. The 
 Hetman will procure for him not one, but ten nobilities. Pan 
 Novovyeyski will not make any opposition. Of course Azya 
 is still in love with you! I am sure of it; I know, I know! 
 Fear not! he has confidence in me. I will question him im- 
 mediately, he will confess to me without .being put to the 
 torture. You were desperately in love with him, and you still 
 love him, don't you?" 
 
 Evka was half dazed. When Azya had first made love to 
 her she was almost a child, and afterwards she had not seen 
 him for several years, and had ceased to think of him. She 
 only remembered him as a. passionate youth who was half- 
 companion to her brother and half-servant. But now, she 
 saw him again; he now appeared handsome, and wild as a 
 falcon, a great warrior and, moreover, the son of a princely 
 though foreign line, consequently young Azya looked alto- 
 gether different; and she was stunned, though at the same 
 time charmed and dazzled at his appearance. Memories of 
 him came back to her as in a dream. She could not fall in 
 love with him at a moment's notice, but in an instant she 
 felt her heart quite ready to love him. 
 
 Basin being unable to question her closely in company, 
 took her and Zosia Boska into an alcove and again began to 
 insist: 
 
 "Evka, quick, tell me instantly, do you love him?" 
 
 The blood flamed in Evka's face. She was a hot-blooded 
 
 * Literally, He will pear tallow under your skin. 
 
24 g PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 brunette with dark hair and eyes, and at the least mention 
 of love, the blood would flush her cheeks. 
 
 'fEvkfr!" reiterated Basia for the tenth time, "do you love 
 him?" 
 
 "I don't know," Panna JSTovovyeyski answered, after paus- 
 ing a moment. 
 
 "But you don't deny it: ah! I know! Don't hesitate, I was 
 the first to tell Michael that I loved him; there was no harm 
 in it, and it was a good thing. You must have been desper- 
 ately in love with each other long ago. Ah! I comprehend 
 it all now. It is pining for you that has always made him 
 so gloomy, he has gone about like a wolf. The poor soldier 
 has almost wasted away; what happened between you? Tell 
 me!" 
 
 "He told me in the storehouse that he loved me," whispered 
 Evka. 
 
 "In the storehouse! . . . And what then?" 
 
 "Then he caught me in his arms and began to kiss me," 
 she continued in a still lower tone. 
 
 "Haven't I found him out, that Mellekhovich! and what 
 did you do?" 
 
 "I was afraid to scream." 
 
 "Afraid to scream! Zoska! Do you hear that? . . . When 
 were your amours discovered?" 
 
 "Father came in and he immediately struck at him with an 
 axe; then he whipped me and ordered him such a beating 
 that he wasn't able to get out of his bed for a fortnight." 
 
 Here Panna Novovyeyski began to cry, partly with grief 
 and partly with shame. On seeing it, the tender-hearted 
 Zosia Boska's dark blue eyes filled with tears and Ba^ia 
 immediately tried to console Evka. 
 
 "It will all come right, I'll stake my head on it. And I'll 
 make Michael and Pan Zagloba help us in the matter. I'll 
 persuade them, don't fear. Pan Zagloba's wits can overcome 
 everything, you don't know him, don't cry, Evka dear, supper 
 is ready." . . . 
 
 Mellekhovich did not appear at supper. He was sitting 
 before the fire in his own room, warming gorzalka and mead, 
 pouring it into a smaller cup and drinking it while he 
 munched some dry biscuits. Later, during the evening, Pan 
 Bogrush came to talk over the news. 
 
 The Tartar immediately gave him a chair lined with sheep- 
 skin, and asked, as he placed before him a hot pitcher of 
 liquor; 
 
7M.V MICHAEL. 
 
 249 
 
 ''Does Pan Novovyeyski still want to make me his slave?" 
 
 "There is no longer any talk of that," replied the Lieuten- 
 ant-Governor of iNovgorod. "Pan Nyenashinyets has the 
 first claim to you, but he doesn't care anything about it, be- 
 cause either his sister must be dead by this time, or else has 
 no desire to change her lot. Pan Novovyeyski had no idea 
 who you were when he had you punished for making love to 
 his daughter. ISTow he seems halt'-stunned, for although your 
 father wrought infinite evil on this land, still he was a famous 
 warrior, and blood is blood. As God is in heaven, no one will 
 raise a finger against you as long as you serve the country 
 faithfully, particularly as you have friends in all directions/' 
 
 "Why shouldn't I serve it faithfully?" replied Azya. "My 
 father fought against you, but he was an Infidel, while I am a 
 professed Christian." 
 
 "That's just it, just it! You can't return to the Crimea 
 without giving up your faith, which entails giving up your 
 salvation, and so, no earthly riches, dignities, nor rank could 
 compensate you. The truth is that you ought to be grateful 
 both to Pan Nyenashinyets and Pan Novovyeyski: the former 
 for bringing you away from the Infidels, and the latter for 
 bringing you up in the true faith." 
 
 "I know/' said Azya, "that I ought to be grateful to them, 
 and I will do my best to repay them. You have truly re- 
 marked that here I have found a great many benefactors." 
 
 "You say that as if you had a bitter taste in your mouth, 
 but reckon up your friends" to yourself." 
 
 "First of all come his Highness the Hetman, and yourself, 
 I will repeat that until I die. I know not what others there 
 may be." . . . 
 
 "How about the commander of this post? Do you think 
 that he would give you up to anyone, even if yon were not 
 the son of Tukhay Bey? And then, Pani Yolodiyovski, I 
 heard what she said about you at supper. . . . Even 
 before that she took your part when Novovyeyski recognized 
 you. Pan Michael would do anything in the world for her, 
 why he can't see anything beside her, and no sister couFd feel 
 more affectionately towards a brother than she does towards 
 you. Nothing but your name was on her lips all through 
 supper." . . . 
 
 The young Tartar suddenly lowered his head and began to 
 blow into his cup of hot liquor, and as he protruded his bluish 
 lips to blow, his face became so characteristically Tartar, that 
 Pan Bogush cried: 
 
250 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "By Heavens! you have no idea how exactly you resembled 
 the old Tukhay Bey a moment ago. It surpasses imagination. 
 I knew him very well. I saw him in the Khan's palace, and 
 in the field, and was in his camp twenty times at the very 
 least." 
 
 "May God bless the just and may the pestilence rot the 
 unjust!" cried Azya. "The Hetman's health!" 
 
 Pan Bogush drank the toast and said: 
 
 "Health and long life! It is true that we who are with 
 him are only a handful, but we are true soldiers. God grant 
 that we shall not be mastered by those scoundrels whose only 
 ability is to intrigue at the primary diets and accuse the 
 Hetman of treason to the King. The villains! Night and 
 day we stand with our faces to the foe and they gather around 
 the kneading-tubs that are filled with chopped meat and cab- 
 bage and millet and beat on them with their spoons. That's 
 all they do. The Hetman sends messenger after messenger 
 praying for reinforcements for Kamenets. Like Cassandra, 
 he foretells the destruction of Ilium and Priam's subjects; 
 but they pay no attention to it and only try to discover 
 offences against the King." 
 
 "What is your lordship speaking about?" 
 
 "Nothing. I was comparing Kamenets with Troy, but of 
 course you haven't heard of Troy. Wait a little, the Hetman, 
 I vouch, will gain you your nobility. Public affairs are such 
 that the opportunity will not be wanting if you really want 
 to cover yourself with glory." 
 
 "I shall either cover myself with glory or the earth will 
 cover me. As there is a God in Heaven, you will hear of 
 me!" 
 
 "But those men? What is Krychinski doing? Will they 
 return to us or not? What are they doing now?" 
 
 "They are camping, some at the Urzyisk steppes^ and others 
 further away. It is difficult to come to an agreement just 
 now, as they are far away. They have orders |o move to 
 Adrianople, and take all the provisions they can^carry with 
 them." 
 
 "For God's sake! that's important news, for if there, is to be 
 a great gathering of men at Adrianople, war with us is certain 
 to follow. The Hetman must be told of this immediately. 
 He is also of the opinion that war is approaching, but this 
 would leave no doubt. 
 
 "Halim told me that it is rumored there that the Sultan 
 himself would be at Adrianople." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 251 
 
 "Blessed be the name of the Lord! And here we have 
 scarcely a handful of men. Our only hope is in the rock of 
 Kamenets. Does Krychinski make any new stipulations?" 
 
 "He writes complaints rather than stipulations. A general 
 amnesty, restoration of the rights and privileges of nobles 
 which they formerly possessed, and commands for the chiefs, 
 that's what they want, but they are hesitating, as the Sultan 
 has offered them still more/' 
 
 "What's that you say? How can the Sultan offer them 
 more than the Commonwealth. The rule is absolute in 
 Turkey and all rights and privileges are entirely dependent 
 on the mere whim of the Sultan. Even if the present ruler 
 were to observe all his undertakings, his successor might 
 break or trample upon them at will; while among us privileges 
 are inviolable, and whoever becomes a noble cannot be de- 
 prived of anything even by the King." 
 
 "They say that they were nobles, but that they were treated 
 just as if they had been dragoons; that the Governors more 
 than once ordered them to perform various duties from which 
 not merely a noble but even his follower is exempt." 
 
 "But if the Hetman promises?" . . . 
 
 "No one doubts the noble nature of the Hetman and they 
 are all fond of him in their own hearts, but this is how they 
 argue: the throng of nobles will cry down the Hetman for a 
 traitor, he is hated at court, and a cabal threatens to impeach 
 him. What can he do?" 
 
 "Pan Bogush began to scratch his head. 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 "They themselves are uncertain what to do." 
 
 "And will they stay with the Sultan?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Bah, who will order them to come back to the Common- 
 wealth?" 
 
 "I!" 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "I am the son of Tukhay Bey." 
 
 "My Azya," said Pan Bogush after a pause, "I don't deny 
 that they may be devoted to your race, and to Tukhay Bey's 
 glory, though they are our Tartars and Tukhay Bey was our 
 foe. I can understand that, for even among us^ some nobles 
 take pride in saying that Khmelnitski was a noble and not a 
 descendant from the Cossacks, but from our people the 
 Mazovians. . . Well, though there is no greater scoundrel 
 
252 MICHAEL. 
 
 in hell than he, they are glad to recognize him because he 
 was a famous warrior. Such is man's nature! But I see no 
 sufficient reason why your descent from Tukhay should give 
 you the right to command over all the Tartars/' 
 
 For a while Azya did not speak, then he put his hands on 
 his hips and said: 
 
 "Then I will tell you Sir, Undercarver, I am obeyed by 
 Krychinski and others, for, in addition to the fact that they 
 are common Tartars, and I a Prince, I have other strength 
 and resources. . . Which neither you nor the Hetman have 
 any knowledge of." . . . 
 
 "What resources? What strength?" 
 
 "I can scarcely tell you," Azya replied in the Russian 
 tongue. "But how is it that I am ready to undertake what 
 another would not dare ? Why have I thought of what others 
 would not have thought?" 
 
 "What's that you say? ; Of what have you thought?" 
 
 "I thought of this: that if Pan Hetman would be willing 
 and give me permission to do so, I would bring back not only 
 the captain, but I would also bring half the Horde into the 
 service of the Hetman. Is unoccupied land so scarce in the 
 Ukraine a.nd in the wilderness? Let the Hetman only pro- 
 claim that the Tartar who comes over to the Commonwealth 
 will be ennobled, will not suffer religious persecution, and will 
 serve in a company of his own people, that they all will have 
 their own Hetman, as the Cossacks have,, and I will stake my 
 head that the entire Ukraine will quickly be swarming with 
 men. The Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars will come; they will 
 come from Dobrudja and Byalogrod; they will come from the 
 Crimea, driving their flocks, and with their wives and children 
 in wagons. Your lordship, don't shake your head, come they 
 will as long since came those who for generations were faith- 
 ful servants of ^he Commonwealth. In the Crimea and every- 
 where else the people are oppressed by the Khan and the 
 Murzas, but here they will be ennobled, they would have 
 their own sabres and take the field under their own Hetman. 
 I will take my oath Sir, that they will come, for where they 
 are, they often suffer hunger. Now if it is proclaimed through 
 the villages that by the Hetman 's authority I call them that 
 Tukhay Bey's son calls, they will come by the thousand." 
 
 Pan Bogush put his head in his hands. 
 
 "By God's wounds! Azya. where did you get such thoughts? 
 What would be the remit? 
 
MICHAEL. 253 
 
 "In the Ukraine there would be a Tartar nation as there 
 now is a Cossack. You have granted privileges and a Hetman 
 to the Cossacks. Why not to us. You ask what will be the 
 result. Not what there is now, another Khmyelnitski, for 
 we should have immediately put our foot on the neck of the 
 Cossack; there would be no uprising of the peasants with 
 carnage and destruction, there would be no Doroshenko, for 
 once let him rise and I should be the first to drag him to the 
 Hetman's feet with a halter. And if the Turkish Power took 
 it into its head to attack us, we could beat the Sultan; if the 
 Khan threatened us with raids, we should beat the Khan. 
 Is it so long since that the Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars 
 did the very same thing, though still holding the Moham- 
 medan faith? Why should it be different with us? We 
 belong to the Commonwealth and we are noble! . . . Now 
 think of it. The Ukraine pacified, the Cossacks kept in shape, 
 protection from Turkey, thousands and thousands of addi- 
 tional troops, that's my idea, that's what I had in mind, that's 
 why Krychinski, Adurovich, Moravski and Tvorkovski obey 
 me. That's why one-half of the Crimea will throng to the 
 Steppes at my call." 
 
 Pan Bogush was as much astonished and overwhelmed by 
 Azya's words as if the walls of the room in which they were 
 sitting had suddenly opened and revealed new and strange 
 vistas to his eyes. For some time he did not utter a word, and 
 simply stared at the young Tartar, but Azya began to take 
 long strides up and down the room, and at length he said: 
 
 "Without me nothing can be done, for I am the son of 
 Tukhay Bey, and there is no greater name among the Tartars 
 from the Dnieper to the Danube." 
 
 Presently, he added: 
 
 "What do I care about Krychinski, Tvorkovski, and the 
 rest. It is not only a question of them, or of a few thousands 
 of Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars, but of the whole Common- 
 wealth. It is said that there will be a great war in the Spring 
 against the power of the Sultan, but only give me the 
 authority and I will make it so hot among the Tartars that 
 even the" Sultan will burn his fingers." 
 
 "In God's name who are you, Azya?" Pan Bogush cried. 
 
 He raised his head. 
 
 "The future Hetman of the Tartars." 
 
 At that moment a gleam of the fire illuminated Azya's 
 face which was both cruel and beautiful. And Pan Boguah 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 felt that lie was iii the presence of a new man, so great and 
 proud was the bearing of the young Tartar. Pan Bogush also 
 felt that Azya was speaking the truth. If the iletman were 
 to issue such a proclamation, the whole of the Lipkov and 
 Cheremis Tartars would inevitably return, and their example 
 would be followed by a great number of the wilder Tartars. 
 The old Noble was quite familiar with the Crimea, where he 
 had been twice in captivity and, after being ransomed by the 
 Hetman, he had acted there as an envoy. He knew the court 
 of Bakhche-Serai ; he knew all the Hordes from the Don to 
 the Dobrudja; he knew that many villages were wiped out 
 by hunger in the winter; that the oppression and exactions 
 of the Khan's Baskaks was bitter to the Muraas; that often 
 there was rebellion in the Crimea itself; and therefore he im- 
 mediately recognized that fertile lands and privileges would 
 not fail to tempt all whose lot was hard or perilous in their 
 old abode. 
 
 If the son of Tukhay Bey sent out the call they would 
 most certainly be attracted. Only he could do it, no one 
 else. By means of his father's fame, he might stir up the 
 villagers and set one-half of the Crimea against the other; he 
 could bring over the wild Horde of Byalogrod and undermine 
 the whole power of the Khan, yea, and even of the Sultan. 
 
 If the Hetman cared to make use of such an opportunity, 
 he might regard the son of Tukhay Bey as a man expressly 
 sent by Providence. 
 
 Consequently Pan Bogush began to regard Azya in a differ- 
 ent light and to marvel more and more how such thoughts 
 came to be hatched in his brain. The perspiration broke out 
 on his brow in big drops in amazement at those ideas. How- 
 ever, his mind was not yet entirely free from doubt, so after 
 a pause, he said: 
 
 "And do you know that such a business would involve war 
 with Turkey." 
 
 "There will be war in any case. Why did the Horde re- 
 ceive orders to march to Adrianople? Unless dissensions 
 break out in the Sultan's own domains there must be war, 
 and when it comes to the point half the Horde will be found 
 on our side." 
 
 "The rascal has a ready reply for every point!"' reflected 
 Pan Bogush. "It makes my head swim." 
 
 "You see, Azya, it's not an easy matter any way you look 
 at it. What would the King say, and the Chancellors, and 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 255 
 
 the estates of the realm, and all the nobles, the majority of 
 whom are hostile to the Hetman?" 
 
 "All I need is the Hetman's written permission, and when 
 we once get there, let them drive us out if they can! Who 
 will do that and how? You would he glad enough to get the 
 Zaparojians out of the Sieh, hut you can't succeed for the 
 life of you." 
 
 "Pan Hetman would fear to take the responsibility." 
 
 "With the Hetman there would be fifty thousand sabres of 
 the Horde in addition to the troops he has already." 
 
 "And the Cossacks! Do you forget the Cossacks? They 
 will immediately rise in rebellion!" 
 
 "We are required here expressly to keep a sword hanging 
 above the Cossack neck. Where does Dorosh get his support. 
 From the Tartars! Let me take charge of the Tartars and 
 Dorosh must bow his head to the earth before the Hetman." 
 
 At this point Azya extended his hand and stretched out 
 his fingers like an eagle's claw and then grasped the hilt of 
 his sabre. 
 
 "So, this is how he will teach law to the Cossacks. We 
 will make serfs of them and hold the Ukraine. Hear, Pan 
 Bogush. You think that I am a little man, but I am not 
 so insignificant as I appear in the eyes of Novovyeyski, the 
 commander of this post, and yourself. Look at me, I have 
 pondered over this night and day till I have grown thin and 
 my face is falling away. Look at it, Sir, it has greatly dark- 
 ened. But what I have thought out I have thought out thor- 
 oughly, and so I tell you that I possess strength and counsel. 
 You yourself see that these are weighty matters. Go to the 
 Hetman and don't delay. Lay the affair before him and get 
 him to give me a letter concerning it, and I don't care about 
 the other authorities. The Hetman has a mighty mind and 
 he will know what strength and counsel there is in this. Tell 
 the Hetman that I am the son of Tukhay Bey, and that I 
 only can accomplish it. Lay it before him and gain his 
 consent, but for God's sake let it be done quickly while the 
 snow is still on the Steppes, before Spring comes, for in the 
 Spring there will be war; go at once and return immediately, 
 so that I may quickly know what to do." 
 
 Pan Bogush did not notice that Azya spoke in commanding 
 tones like the Hetman issuing his orders to his officers. 
 
 "I will rest to-morrow, and start the day after," he said. 
 "God grant that I may find the Hetman in Yavorov. He is 
 quick in deciding and you will soon have an answer." 
 
X MICHAEL. 
 
 "What does your lordship think about it? Will the TTet- 
 man consent?" 
 
 "Perhaps he will order you to come to see him, so do not 
 go to Eashkov at present. You can reach Yavorov more 
 quickly from here. 1 cannot tell whether he will consent, 
 but he will promptly take the affair under full consideration, 
 for your reasons are very weighty. By the living God, I did 
 not expect this of you, but I now see that you are no common 
 man and that the Almighty has predestined you to greatness. 
 Well, Azya, Azya! only a lieutenant in a Tartar company, 
 and yet he has such things in his mind as to terrify a man! 
 Now I shall not be surprised to see even a* heron feather in 
 your cap and a horse's tail above you. . . I believe even in 
 that what you say, that these thoughts have fired your heart 
 during the night hours. . . I will take a little rest and 
 start the day after to-morrow. Now I will leave you, as it is 
 late and my head is buzzing like a mill. God be with you 
 Azya. . . My head aches as if I had been drunk. . . God 
 be with you Azya, son of Tukhay Bey!" 
 
 Then Pan Bogush grasped the lean hand of the Tartar 
 and turned to go, but, at the door, he again halted and cried: 
 
 "What is that? . . . Fresh armies for the Common- 
 wealth. . . A sword suspended above the head of the Cos- 
 sack. . . Dorosh subdued . . . rebellion in the Crimea, 
 . . . the Turkish power weakened . . . and an end to the 
 raids into Russia, . . . for Heaven's sake!" 
 
 Then he left, and Azya looked after him for a few moments 
 and then murmured : 
 
 "But for me, a horse's tail, a baton, and . . . with or 
 without her consent, herself. If not woe to you all!" 
 
 Then he finished his gorzalka and cast himself upon the 
 couch covered with skins. The fire had died down on the 
 hearth, but through the window fell the bright rays of the 
 moon which had mounted high in the cold wintry sky. For 
 some time Azya lay quietly, but could not sleep. Finally he 
 arose, approached the window and gazed at the moon that 
 was sailing through the infinite seas of the heavens like a 
 ship. 
 
 The young Tartar watched it for a long time, and at last 
 he laid his hands on his breast with his thumbs pointing 
 upward, and from the lips of him who scarcely an hour ago 
 had professed himself a Christian came out a cry in a melan- 
 choly half chant, half drone: 
 
 "La Allah ilia Allah! IT Mahomet Rassul Allals!'" (There 
 is no God but Allah, and Mahomet is his messenger.) 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Since the early morning Basia had been taking counsel 
 with her husband and Pan Zagloba on the question of how to 
 unite two loving hearts. The two men laughed at her earn- 
 estness, and continued to tease her; however, as they always 
 allowed her to have her own way, like a spoiled child, they 
 finally promised to help her. 
 
 "We had best persuade old Novovyeyski not to take the 
 girl with him to Rashkov," said Zagloba; "tell him that the 
 frosts have come and the roads are not quite safe. The two 
 young people will be constantly thrown together here, and 
 must fall desperately in love." * 
 
 "That's a capital thought/' cried Basia. 
 
 "Capital or not," replied Zagloba, "don't let them get oufc 
 of your sight. You are a grandmother, and, consequently, I 
 am sure that you will bind them at last, for a woman always 
 has her own way; but take care that the Devil doesn't have 
 his way in the meantime. That would bring disgrace upon 
 you, for you are responsible for this affair." 
 
 Basia spat like a kitten, at Pan Zagloba, and then said: 
 
 "You are always boasting that in your youth you were a 
 Turk, and you seem to think that everybody is a Turk! . . . 
 Azya is not such a one." 
 
 "Not a Turk, but a Tartar! Pretty one! So you would 
 vouch for Tartar love?" 
 
 "They are both thinking more about their tears caused by 
 terrible sorrow. . . Besides, Evka is a very honest girl." 
 
 "Yet she has such a tell-tale face that the words 'Here 
 are lips for you!' might just as well be written on her brow. 
 Ho! She is a jackdaw! I discovered yesterday, that when- 
 ever she sits opposite an attractive fellow, she sighs so deeply 
 for him that she blows her plate so far away from her that 
 she has to draw it back again. A real jackdaw, I say." 
 
 "Do you want me to leave the room?" asked Basia. 
 
 "You won't go when we are talking of match-making. You 
 won't go I know you! But anyhow it's too soon for you to 
 
 17 (257) 
 
258 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 try your hand at matchmaking: that belongs to professional 
 women. You have no dignity; it was only yesterday that 
 Pani Boska told me that when she saw you coming back from 
 the battle in your trousers, she thought itwasPaniVolodiyov- 
 ski's little son, who had gone on an expedition to the woods. 
 Dignity doesn't love you, either, which is seen at once in 
 your slender figure. As I love God, you look just like a stu- 
 dent! Another style of women are in fashion now. In my 
 day, when a woman sat in a chair, it would squeak just as if 
 you had stepped on the tail of a dog; but, as for you, you 
 could ride on a tom-cat's back without least fatiguing the 
 beast at all. They say that match-making women never have 
 any children." 
 
 "Do they really say that?" asked the little knight, in alarm. 
 
 But Pan Zagloba began to laugh; and Bask laying her 
 rosy cheek against her husband's, whispered: 
 
 "Ah, Michael, some time we will make a pilgrimage to 
 Chenstohovo; then, perhaps, the Most Holy Lady will grant 
 our pfayer." 
 
 "Indeed, that is the wisest thing to do," said Zagloba. 
 
 Then they embraced each other, and Basia said: 
 
 "Now let us talk about Azya and poor Evka; and how we 
 can best help them. We are happy; let us make them happy." 
 
 "It will be easier for them after Novovyeyski has gone," 
 said the little knight, "for in his presence they cannot see 
 each other, because Azya hates the old man. But if the old 
 man were to give him Evka, perhaps they might forget the 
 past and love each other as son-in-law and father-in-law. I 
 think it is not a question of throwing the young people to- 
 gether, for they are already in love, but of winning over the 
 old man." 
 
 "He is a boor!" exclaimed Basia. 
 
 "Basia," said Zagloba, "imagine that you had a daughter, 
 and that you were asked to give her to some Tartar." 
 
 "Azya is a prince," answered Basia, 
 
 "I do not deny that Tukhay Bey is of blue blood. Hasling 
 was a nobleman; but Krysia Drohoyovska. would never have 
 married him if he had not been naturalized." 
 
 "Then try to get Azya naturalized." 
 
 "Do you think that an easy matter? Even if some one 
 would grant him an escutcheon, he would have to be con- 
 firmed by the Diet; and that takes time and protection." 
 
 "That time is needed, I do not like, but protection can be 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 259 
 
 found. Certainly the Hetman will not refuse this to Azya, 
 for he loves soldiers. Michael, write at once to the Hetman. 
 Do you need paper, ink, or pen? Write instantly! I'll get 
 you everything, and a candle, and the seal; sit down, do not 
 delay, and write at once." 
 
 Pan Michael began to laugh: 
 
 "0 Almighty God!" he cried, "I asked for a sedate and 
 gentle wife, and Thou hast given me a whirlwind." 
 
 ''Say that, say, and I shall die!" 
 
 "Ah, you are impatient!" cried the little knight, excitedly, 
 "you are impatient. Tfu! tfu! a charm for a dog!" 
 
 Turning to Zagloba, he said: "Do you know the words of 
 any charm?" 
 
 "I know some, and I've just repeated them," replied Zag- 
 loba. 
 
 "Write!" commanded Basia, "or I will jump out of my 
 skin." 
 
 "I would write twenty letters to please you, though I don't 
 know if they could do any good, for in this case the Hetman 
 himself can do nothing; even if he should have protection 
 Azya can only appear at the proper time. My dear Basia, 
 Fauna Novovyeyski has told you her secret, very well. But 
 you have not said a word to Azya, and you dont know now 
 whether he is burning up yith love for Evka or not." 
 
 "Not burning with love for her? Why not, when he kissed 
 her in the storehouse. Aha!" 
 
 "Golden Soul!" said Zagloba, smiling. "You talk like an 
 infant, only you have a fluent tongue. My love*, if Michael 
 and I had to marry all the women we happen to kiss, we 
 should have to become Mohammedans at once, and I should 
 be Padishah of Turkey and he Khan of Crimea. How's that, 
 Michael, eh?" 
 
 "I suspected Michael before we were married," said Basia. 
 
 And, holding up her finger at him, she began to tease him: 
 
 "Twist your moustache; twist it. Don't deny it. I know, 
 I know, and you know, too ... at Ketling's!" .... 
 
 The little knight really began to twist his moustache to 
 give himself an air, and also to cover his confusion; and wish- 
 ing to change the conversation, he said: 
 
 "And so you don't know whether Azya is in love with 
 Panna Novovyeyski?" 
 
 "Wait; I will talk to him alone, and ask him. If he is in 
 love; he must be in love! If he isn't, I don't want to know 
 him!" 
 
2 6o PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "In God's name! She will talk him into it," exclaimed 
 Zagloba. 
 
 "And I will persuade him, even if I have "to see him every 
 day." 
 
 "Ask him first," said the little knight. "Perhaps he will 
 not admit it at once, because he is different; but that's noth- 
 ing. You will gain his confidence by degrees; you'll get to 
 know him better; you will know what to do when you under- 
 stand him/' 
 
 The little knight turned to Pan Zagloba: 
 
 "She seems dull, but she is sharp." 
 
 "Goats are sharp/' replied Zagloba seriously. 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by Pan Bogush, who 
 burst in like a bomb-shell,, and after kissing Basia's hand^. 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "May bullets hit that Azya! I never closed my eyes all 
 night. May the woods cover him!'' 
 
 "How has Pan Azya offended your grace?" asked Basia. 
 
 "Do you know what we were doing yesterday?" 
 
 And Pan Bogush stared at each of them. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "'Making history! As I love God, I am not lying, history!" 
 
 "What history?" 
 
 "The history of the Commonwealth. He is really a great 
 man. Pan Sobieski himself will be astonished when I submit 
 Azya's ideas to him. I repeat, he is a great man; and I am 
 sorry I can't tell you more, for I am sure you would all be as 
 much amazed as I am. I can only tell you that if he succeeds 
 in accomplishing his purpose, God only knows what he will 
 become." 
 
 "For instance, do you think he will become Hetman?" 
 asked Zagloba. 
 
 Pan Bogush placed his hands on his hips: "That's it he 
 will be Hetman. I'm sorry I can't tell you more. . . He 
 will be Hetman, and that's enough." 
 
 "Perhaps a Hetman of dogs, or he will have to join the 
 bullocks. Herders have Hetmen also. Tfu! what has your 
 grace been saying, Pan TJndercarver? It is true that he is 
 the son of TukhayBey; but, if he is to be Hetman, what shall 
 I, and Pan Michael, and your grace become? Are we to wait 
 for the abduction of Casper, Melchior, and Baltazar, and be- 
 come the three kings at the birth of Christ? The noblemen 
 created me, at least, commander; and I resigned the post out 
 
JVLV MICHAEL. 261 
 
 of friendship for Pavel, 1 but, as <k>d is above, I dou't under- 
 stand your prediction. 1 ' 
 
 "But I say Azya is a great man." 
 
 "I said so/' "said Basia, looking towards the door, for 
 some other guests at the stanitsa were now coming in. 
 
 First, Pani Boska entered with the blue-eyed Zosia, and 
 Pan Novovyeyski with Evka, who, notwithstanding a, bad 
 night, looked more charming than ever. Strange dreams had 
 disturbed her sleep; dreams of Azya, who appeared handsomer 
 and more commanding than ever. She blushed deeply as she 
 thought of these dreams, for she fancied that everybody 
 would read her thoughts. 
 
 She was unnoticed, however, for everybody began to say 
 "good-morning" to the Lady Commandress. Then Pan Bo- 
 gush again told his story of Azya's greatness and future; and 
 Basia was delighted that Evka and Pan Novovyeyski had to 
 hear it. Since his first meeting with the Tartar, the old man's 
 anger had cooled considerably, and he was now much calmer. 
 He no longer called him his man. Indeed, he was impressed 
 beyond measure by the discovery that he was a Tartar prince 
 and a son of Tukhay Bey. He listened with amazement to 
 the story of Azya's wonderful bravery and the Hetman's im- 
 portant charge to him of bringing back all the Lipkov and 
 Cheremis Tartars to the Commonwealth. So important had 
 Azya become in his opinion that at times it seemed even to 
 Pan Novovyeyski that they were talking not of Azya, but of 
 another person. 
 
 Every other moment Pan Bogush repeated very myster- 
 iously: 
 
 "This is nothing in comparison with what is awaiting him; 
 but I am not at liberty to speak of it." 
 
 And when the others shook their heads dubiously, he ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 "There are two great men in the Commonwealth Pan 
 Sobieski and the son of the Tukhay Bey." 
 
 "For the love of God," said Pan Novovyeyski, roused at 
 last, "prince or no prince, what can he have in the Common- 
 wealth unless he is a nobleman. He is not even naturalized." 
 
 "The Hot man will naturalize him ten times!" exclaimed 
 Basia. 
 
 Panna Evka heard all this praise with closed eyes and a 
 
 1 Referring to Pavel Sapyeha, Voevode of Vilna, and Hetman of Lithuania. 
 
262 PAN At 
 
 beating heart. It is hard to say if it would have beaten so 
 quickly for Azya, poor mid obscure. n.< Tor Azya, the knight 
 with a great future. This glitter dazzled her; and the memory 
 of past kisses and new dreams seized now with a tremor of 
 delight the young lady's body. 
 
 "So great and so famous/' thought Evka. "No wonder 
 that he is as quick as firef ' 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 That very day Basia, following her husband's advice, 
 made the Tartar pass "an examination;", and as she was afraid 
 of Azya's shyness, she decided not to insist too much. 
 
 Nevertheless, however, he had hardly come into her pres- 
 ence before she said, speaking directly to the point: 
 
 "Pan Bogush says you are a great man; but I believe that 
 no great man avoids love." 
 
 Azya closed his eyes and bent his head, saying: 
 
 "Your grace is right." 
 
 "I see you have a heart." .... 
 
 After this remark, Basia shook her golden locks and 
 winked, as if to say she understood the affairs of the heart 
 very well, and hoped she was speaking to a man of similar 
 experience. Raising his head, Azya let his glance wander over 
 her. Never had she seemed so lovely as now, when her lovely 
 eyes were bright with curiosity and their own fire and her 
 child-like face, wreathed in smiles and blushes, looked upon 
 his. But her very innocence charmed Azya more and more; 
 desire rose in his soul; love seized him powerfully and intoxi- 
 cated him like wine, driving out all other ambitions but this 
 to steal her from her husband, to carry her off, to clasp her 
 forever to his breast, to press his lips to hers, and to feel her 
 arms around his neck: to love her continually, even forget- 
 ting all else, or perish with or without her. 
 
 Everything whirled about him with this thought; from the 
 depths of his soul fresh desires came creeping like serpents 
 from the hidden places of a cliff. Yet he was a man of great 
 self-control, and holding his wild heart in check as he held 
 a furious horse while throwing the lariat, he said to himself, 
 "It is impossible yet!" 
 
 In apparent coldness he stood before her, though he was 
 on fire, and his eyes with their dilated pupils revealed all 
 that his compressed lips concealed. 
 
 But Basia, whose soul was as pure as the waters of a 
 spring and whose mind was occupied with other things, did 
 
 (263) 
 
264 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 not understand his meaning: for the moment she was thinking 
 what more to say to the Tartar; at length she raised her hand 
 and said: 
 
 "Many a man has a secret love in his heart and does not 
 dare to mention it to anyone, but if he were frankly to con- 
 fess it, perhaps he might receive some comfort." 
 
 Azya's face darkened for a moment as a wild hope flashed 
 through his brain like lightning, but he immediately recov- 
 ered himself and asked: 
 
 "What is your ladyship's meaning?" 
 
 "Any other woman," replied Basia, "would lose patience 
 with you; for deliberation is not a woman's nature, but I am 
 not like that. As for assistance, I would willingly help you, 
 but I do not ask you to confide in me all in a moment. I only 
 say,' 'Do not shut yourself up alone, come to me every day/ 
 I have already discussed the affair with my husband, and in 
 time you will realize my good will, and know that mine is not 
 merely thoughtless inquisitiveness, but sympathy and, more- 
 over, if I give you my aid, I must first be sure that you are 
 in love; moreover, it is only proper that you should acknowl- 
 edge it first; when you have done that, I too may be able to 
 tell you something." 
 
 Azya immediately realized what a vain hope he had har- 
 bored a moment since; he saw at once that it concerned Evka 
 Novovyeyski; and all the maledictions of the entire family 
 which had gathered with the lapse of time in his revengeful 
 heart rose to his lips. Hatred flamed up in his soul and all 
 the more fiercely in consequence of what he had felt a mo- 
 ment ago. But he recovered himself. He was not only self- 
 controlled, but he possessed all the Oriental cunning. He 
 saw immediately that if he were to indulge his venom against 
 the Novovyeyskis he would forfeit Basia's favor and the 
 chance of seeing her daily;- but nevertheless, he felt that he 
 could not overcome his feelings, at least for the moment, to 
 the extent of lying to the woman he desired as to the state 
 of his own heart or professing to love another. 
 
 Therefore, he suddenly cast himself at Basia's feet in 
 real distress and genuine suffering and, kissing her feet, he 
 cried: "I resign my heart into your ladyship's hands and to 
 your ladyship's hands I confide my faith, I will do nothing 
 but what you order. I desire to submit to no will but your 
 own. Do what you will with me. My life is pain and an- 
 guish, I am very miserable. __Pity me or I shall be lost!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 365 
 
 And he began to moan in his intense suffering and the re- 
 pressed longings that were burning him like a fire. But 
 Basia thought that his words were merely the outpouring of 
 his love for Evka, hidden so long and with such suffering, and 
 so she felt an immense compassion for the young man and 
 two little tears sparkled in her eyes. 
 
 "Kise, Azya," she said to the kneeling Tartar, "I have ever 
 wished you well and have a sincere desire to serve you. You 
 are of noble blood, and the authorities will certainly requite 
 ycmr services with a nobility. Pan Novovyeyski will submit 
 to be pacified since he now regards you with different eyes, 
 and Evka . . . ' 
 
 At this point Basia rose and, lifting her rosy smiling face, 
 put her hand to her mouth and whispered in Azya's ear: 
 
 "Evka lovea you/' 
 
 His face became drawn as if with terrible anger, he put his 
 hands on his hips and, without regarding the effect of his 
 words, he hoarsely cried, several times: 
 
 "Allah, Allah, Allah!" 
 
 He then darted from the room. 
 
 Basia looked after him for a moment or two. She was 
 not much surprised at the exclamation, because it was often 
 used by the Polish soldiers, but, at the sight of the young 
 Tartar's excitement, she said to herself: 
 
 "Beal fire! he is mad after her." 
 
 Then she dashed out like a tempest to carry the news to 
 her husband, Pan Zagloba and Evka. She found Pan Michael 
 in the office, deep in the accounts of the dragoons stationed 
 at Khreptyov. He was sitting writing, and she sprang to his 
 side and cried: 
 
 "Do you know I spoke to him; he fell at my feet and is 
 mad after her." 
 
 The little knight laid down his pen and looked up at his 
 wife. She was so pretty in her excitement that his eyes 
 sparkled and he smiled and held out his arms to her. She 
 kept him away and repeated: 
 
 "Azya is mad after Evka." 
 
 "As I am after you!" cried the little knight as he embraced 
 her. 
 
 The same day Zagloba and Evka had a detailed report of 
 her talk with Azya. The maiden's heart now entirely sur- 
 rendered itself to the sweet sentiment, and beat like a hammer 
 at the anticipation of their first interview, and still more at 
 
266 
 
 the thought of what would happen when they were alone. 
 She already saw Azya's face at her knees and felt his ki 
 on her hands and her own languor at that moment when the 
 head of a maiden leans towards the arms of a lover, and her 
 lips whisper "I love you." In the meantime, she ardently 
 kissed Basia's hands in her emotion, and every moment kept 
 looking at the door in the hope of seeing the dark but grace- 
 ful figure of young Azya appear. 
 
 But Azya did not appear, because Halim had arrived; 
 Halim, his father's old servant and now quite an important 
 Murza in the Dobrudja. He had come without any conceal- 
 ment, because at Khreptyov every body knew that he was the 
 intermediary between Azya and the leaders who had gone over 
 to the Sultan's service. They immediately closeted themselves 
 in Azya's quarters where, after paying due obedience to the 
 son of Tukhay Bey, Halim crossed his hands on his breast 
 and with bowed head waited to be questioned. 
 
 "Have you any letters?" 
 
 "None, Effendi, they ordered me to convey it all by word of 
 mouth." ' 
 
 "Speak then." 
 
 "War is certain. We must all go to Adrianople in the 
 Spring. The Bulgarians have orders to take hav and barley 
 there." 
 
 "And where will the Khan be?" 
 
 "He will go direct by the Steppes through the Ukraine to 
 Doroshenko." 
 
 "What is the news from the Cossack encampments?" 
 
 "They are happy at the thought of war and are longing 
 for the Spring; there is much suffering among them, though it 
 is only the beginning of Winter." 
 
 "Is the suffering very great?" 
 
 "A great number of horses have died. Men have sold them- 
 selves into slavery in Byalogrod just to live till the Spring. 
 Great numbers of horses have died, Effendi, because there 
 was so little grass on the Steppes in the Autumn. ... It 
 had all been burnt up by the sun." 
 
 "But have they heard "of the son of Tukhay Bey?" 
 
 "I told as much as you would allow. The rumor was spread 
 by the Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars, but no one know r s the 
 exact truth. There is also considerable talk of the report that 
 the Commonwealth wants to give them lands and freedom, 
 and call them to serve under the son of Tukhay Bey. At the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 267 
 
 very hint of it all the poorer villages were in a ferment. They 
 are quite willing, Effendi, quite willing, but others tell them 
 that it is not true, and the Commonwealth will attack them, 
 and that a son of Tukhay Bey does not exist at all. There 
 were some of our merchants in the Crimea and they say that 
 reports were also there that "A son of Tukhay Bey exists/ 7 
 and the people were excited, but others said, "He does not 
 exist," and they quieted down again. But if the word should 
 once go forth that your grace summons them to freedom, 
 lands, and war, they would come in swarms. . . . Only give 
 me authority to speak. . . . '' 
 
 Azya's face became radiant with pleasure, and he began 
 to take long strides up and down the room, finally he said: 
 
 "Make yourself comfortable under my roof, Halim; sit down 
 and eat." 
 
 "I am your slave and dog, Effendi," cried the old Tartar. 
 
 Azya clapped his hands and a Tartar servant came in and, 
 at his orders, quickly returned with refreshments, gorzalka, 
 dried meat, bread, sweetmeats, and some handfuls of dried 
 watermelon-seeds which, as well as the seeds of the sunflower, 
 are held a great delicacy among the Tartars. 
 
 "You're not a servant, but a friend," said Azya, when the 
 servant had departed. "Be welcome! for you are a bringer of 
 good news; sit down and eat." 
 
 Halim began to eat and nothing was said till he had fin- 
 ished. He had soon refreshed himself, and then sat looking 
 at Azya, waiting for him to speak. 
 
 "Here they know who I am now," at last Azya said. 
 
 "What then, Effendi?" 
 
 "Nothing. Their respect for me is the greater. When it 
 came to business, I should have had to tell them anyway. But 
 I put it off till I had received news from the Horde, and I 
 wanted to tell the Hetman first; but Novovyeyski arrived and 
 recognized me." 
 
 "The young one!" cried Halim in alarm. 
 
 "No, the old one, Allah, has delivered them all into my 
 hands here, for the girl is with them. The devil must have 
 possessed them. Only let me become Hetman and I will 
 have a game with them. They are giving the girl to me; all 
 right! we always need slaves in the Harem." 
 
 "Is the old man the matchmaker?" 
 
 "No ... She! ... She believes that I love the 
 other, and not her." 
 
"Effendi!" said Halim with deep reverence, "I am the slave 
 of your house arid have no right to speak in your presence; 
 but I recognized you among the Lipkov Tartars; I informed 
 you who you were at Bratslav, and from that moment I have 
 faithfully served you. I tell others that they are to regard you 
 as their master, but although they love you, no one can love 
 you as I do; am I allowed to speak?" 
 
 "Speak on." 
 
 "Guard against the little knight. He is celebrated through- 
 out the Crimea and the Dobrudja." 
 
 "And Halim, have you heard of Khmyelnitski?" 
 
 "I have heard, and I served under Tukhay Bey who fought 
 with Khmyelnitski against the Poles, and destroyed castles 
 and captured spoil." 
 
 "And are you aware that Khmyelnitski deprived Chap- 
 Hnski of his wife, and married her himself, and had children 
 by her? What followed. War. And all the armies of the 
 Hetmans and the King and the Commonwealth together could 
 not take her from Khmyelnitski. He defeated the Hetmans 
 and the King and the Commonwealth and became the Het- 
 man of the Cossacks. And what shall I be? Hetman of the 
 Tartars. They will have to give me lots of land and some 
 town for my capital; in the neighborhood of the town villages 
 will arise on fertile land and the villages will contain good 
 fighting men with plenty of bows and sabres. And when I 
 carry her off to my town, and make her my wife, the beauty, 
 whose will be the power. Mine. Who will think of her? The 
 little knight! . . . If he will yet be alive! . . . Even 
 if he should be, and should howl like a wolf and beat his head 
 on the earth before the king in complaint, do you think that 
 they will go to war with me for one tress of golden hair? 
 They have already had one such war, and half the Common- 
 wealth was in flames. Who will take her away from me? Will 
 the Hetman? In that case, I will go over to the Cossacks, 
 form brotherhood with Doroshenko, and deliver over the 
 country to the Sultan. I am another Khmyelnitski: I am 
 better than Khmyelnitski, for a lion dwells in me. Let them 
 allow me to take her and I will serve him and defeat the Cos- 
 sacks, the Khan, and the Sultan. If not, I will trample all 
 Poland under my horse's feet, capture -the Hetmans, scatter 
 armies, burn towns, and slay the inhabitants. I am the son 
 of Tukhay Bey: I am a lion!" 
 
 Here a red light blazed in Azya's eyes and his white teeth 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 269 
 
 gleamed like old Tukhay's; he raised his hand and shook his 
 iist threateningly towards the North and he looked mighty, 
 and dreadful, and splendid, so that Halim bowed again and 
 again before him and said in low tones: 
 
 ''Allah Kerim, Allah Kerim! (God is merciful.) 
 
 A protracted silence followed. Azya gradually grew more 
 calm and at last said: 
 
 "Bogush was here, I showed him my power and resources, 
 namely, to set up in the Ukraine beside the Cossack nation a 
 Tartar one with a Tartar Hetman in addition to the Cos- 
 sack Iletman. . . " . 
 
 "Did he approve of it?" 
 
 "He put his head in his hands and almost beat it on the 
 earth, and the next day went off with the great news to the 
 Hetman at full gallop." 
 
 "Effendi," cried Halim, respectfully, "suppose the Great 
 Lion should not approve of it?" 
 
 "Sobieski?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Azya's eyes again began to glare with a red light, but it 
 lasted only for a second. His face immediately grew calm 
 again, and he sat down on the bench, supported his head in 
 his hands, and began to think deeply. 
 
 At last he said: "I have carefully weighed the Grand Het- 
 man's reply to Bogush's great news. The Hetman is wise 
 and will agree. He knows that there must be war with the 
 Sultan in the Spring, for this the Commonwealth possesses 
 neither the money nor men, and when Doroshenko and the 
 Cossacks side with the Sultan, Poland will be finally destroyed. 
 The more so, because neither the king nor the estates of the 
 realm believe that war will come, and are making no haste for 
 preparation. I am carefully listening to everything here. I 
 am aware of all that goes on and Bogush makes no secret of 
 what is said at the headquarters of the Hetman. Pan So- 
 bieski is a great man; he will agree, for he knows that if the 
 Tartars seek lands and freedom here, it may result in civil war 
 in the Crimea and on the Steppes of the Dobrudja, and that 
 *he Horde will be weakened, and the Sultan himself must take 
 jue^sures to still those storms. ... In the meantime, the 
 Hetman will gain time to be better prepared, and the Cos- 
 sacks and Doroshenko will swerve from their fealty to the 
 Sultan. This is the only hope for the Commonwealth, which 
 is 00 weak thai it will gain strength by the return even of a 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 few thousand Lipkov Tartars. The Hetman is perfectly well 
 aware of this; he is a wise man and will agree." . . . 
 
 "1 bow low before your wisdom/ 7 replied Halim, "but what 
 will happen if Allah deprives the Great Lion of his light, or if 
 Satan blinds him with his pride, so that he rejects your de- 
 signs/' 
 
 Azya put his savage face close to Halim's ear and whispered: 
 
 "You must stay here until the Hetman's answer arrives, 
 and I will not go to Eashkov till then. If they will not fall 
 in with my plans., I will send you to Ivrychinski and the 
 others. You will order them to advance along this side of the 
 river, almost as far as Khreptyov, and be prepared, while I 
 with my Lipkovs will fall upon this post on the first favorable 
 night, and treat them like this: 
 
 Here Azya drew his finger across his throat and presently 
 added: 
 
 "Kensim! kensim! kensim!" . . . 
 
 Halim crouched down and on his face, which resembled a 
 wild animal, there was a significant smile. 
 
 "Allah! And the Little Falcon, too?" . . . 
 
 "Yes! Him first of all." 
 
 "And then into the Sultan's domainn?" 
 
 "Precisely! . . , with her I" , , , 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A severe winter had covered the forests with a heavy 
 mantle of snow and icicles, and filled the ravines to their 
 brink with snow-drifts till the whole land looked like one 
 white level plain. Tremendous storms came suddenly, bury- 
 ing men and cattle under the pall of snow. Roads became 
 dangerous and misleading; but Pan Bogush made the greatest 
 haste to Yavorov to inform the Hetman of Azya's mighty 
 designs as early as possible. A horder noble, brought up in 
 constant danger from Cossack and Tartar, and engrossed with 
 the thought of the dangers by which the country was men- 
 aced by rebellion and forays and the whole power of the 
 Turks, he regarded these plans as almost constituting the 
 country's sole salvation; in his heart he religiously believed 
 that the Hetman, who was reverenced by himself in common 
 with all the men on the border, would not hesitate for an 
 instant when the might of the Commonwealth was concerned: 
 he therefore rode on with a joyful heart, notwithstanding 
 heavy drifts, obliterated roads, and storms. 
 
 At last, one Sunday, he arrived covered with snow at 
 Yavorov and had the good fortune to find Pan Sobieski at 
 home, and immediately had his arrival announced, although 
 the attendants told him that the Hetman was engaged night 
 and day on expeditions and sending off despatches, and had 
 scarcely time even for his meals. But to their surprise, the 
 Hetman at once ordered him to be admitted. So, after a 
 very short wait, the old soldier bowed at the knees of the 
 commander. 
 
 He found Pan Sobieski greatly changed, and his face 
 lined with care, for these were almost the most unhappy 
 years of his life. His name had not yet resounded in every 
 corner of Christendom, although already in the Common- 
 wealth, he was surrounded with the fame of a mighty leader 
 and terrible destroyer of the Mussulmans. On that account, 
 the grand baton and the defence of the eastern border was 
 confided to him in time, but the dignity of Hetman was ac- 
 
 (7O 
 
X MICHAEL. 
 
 companied by neither men nor money. Nevertheless, hith- 
 erto, victory had followed his steps, as surely as a man's 
 shadow follows him. With a very small force he had gained 
 a victory at Podhaytse; with a very small force he had passed 
 through the length and breadth of the Ukraine like a de- 
 vouring flame, grinding chambuls of many thousands into 
 dust, capturing rebellious cities and spreading terror with the 
 name of the Pole. But now the Commonwealth was threat- 
 ened with a war against the most terrible of all the powers of 
 that day, for it was a struggle with the whole Mussulman 
 world. It was no secret to Sobieski now that Doroshenko 
 had delivered over the Ukraine and the Cossacks to the Sul- 
 tan; the latter had promised to make Turkey, Asia Minor, 
 Arabia, and Egypt down to the heart of Africa, proclaim a 
 sacred war and go personally to the Commonwealth to de- 
 mand a new Pashalik. Desolation like a bird of prey was 
 hovering over the whole of Southern Eussia and in the mean- 
 time, in .the Commonwealth itself there was disorder; the no- 
 bles were riotously supporting their weak king, and taking up 
 arms so as to be ready for a possible civil war. The country 
 was exhausted with recent struggles and military confedera- 
 tions and was impoverished. Bitter envy was rife, and mu- 
 tual distrust was poisoning men's minds. Nobody wanted to 
 believe that there was any immediate danger of war with the 
 Mussulmans, and they condemned the great leader for an- 
 nouncing it with the intention of distracting attention from 
 internal affairs. They also brought against him the more 
 serious accusation that he himself was quite ready to call 
 in the aid of the Turks for the sake of assuring victory to 
 his own followers. They made him out to be a common 
 traitor and if it had not been for the army they would most 
 certainly have brought him before the court. 
 
 To carry on the approaching war, to which thousands of 
 savage hordes would flock from the East, he had not what 
 could be called an army, but merely a handful, so small that 
 the Sultan's court had more servants; he had no money, no 
 means to repair the ruined fortresses, nor any hope of vic- 
 tory, nor power of defence, nor even the assurance that his 
 death, like that of Jolkyevski of old, would awake the coun- 
 try from its torpor, and give birth to an avenger. This was 
 why his brow was lined with care, and the noble face, like 
 that of a Roman conqueror with laurels on his brow, showed 
 traces of secret suffering and sleepless nights. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 2 73 
 
 But at the sight of Bogush, a pleasant smile lighted up the 
 Hetman's face; he laid his hand on the shoulder of the 
 man who was bowing before him, and said: 
 
 "I gieet you, soldier, I greet, you; 1 had not hoped to see 
 you so soon, but you are all the more welcome to me here 
 in Yavorov. Where have you come from? From Kamen- 
 ets?" 
 
 "No, most serene and Mighty Lord Hetman, I have not 
 even called at Kamenets, I have come direct from Khrep- 
 tyov." 
 
 "What is my little soldier doing there., is he well, has he 
 at all succeeded in clearing the wilderness of Ushytsa?' 
 
 "It is so quiet there that a child might go through it 
 safely. The robbers have been hanged, and within the last 
 few days, Azba Bey and his whole following have been cut 
 to pieces so that there was not even a man left to tell the 
 tale. ... I arrived there on the very day of the slaughter.-' 
 
 "I recognize Pan Michael's work there; the only man to 
 be compared with him is Rushchyts in Rashkov. What is the 
 news in the steppes? Is there anything fresh from the 
 Danube?" 
 
 "Only evil news. At the end of the winter there is to be 
 a mighty gathering of troops at Adrianople." 
 
 "I have heard of that. There's never any news now but ill 
 news, whether from the Commonwealth, the Crimea, or 
 Stambul." 
 
 "Not exclusively, for I myself bring such good news that 
 if I were a Turk or a Tartar, I should hint at a gift." 
 
 "In that case, you have fallen from Heaven. Now, speak 
 quickly and remove my anxiety." 
 
 "But I am so frozen Your Highness, that my understand- 
 ing has congealed in my head." 
 
 The Hetman clapped his hands and ordered the servant 
 to bring soone mead. Presently they brought in a dusty 
 flask and lights, for although it was still early, thick snow 
 clouds had so obscured the atmosphere, that it was as dark 
 as twilight outside as well as in. 
 
 The Hetman poured out and drank to his guest, who bowed 
 low and drained his goblet and said: 
 
 "The first piece of news is that that Azya, who was com- 
 missioned to bring back into our service the chiefs of the 
 Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars, is not properly named Mellek- 
 hovich, but the son of Tukhay Bey." 
 
274 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Of Tukhay Bey/' cried the astonished Pan Sobieski. 
 
 "It is this way, Your Highness, it appears that Pan Ny- 
 enashinyets carried him off from the Crimea in his infancy, 
 but lost him on his way back, and Azya, who fell into the 
 possession of the Novovyeyskis, was brought up with them 
 without any knowledge of his parentage." 
 
 "I wondered how that he who was so young was so highly 
 esteemed by the Tartars. But I understand now, for the 
 Cossacks also, even those who have remained faithful to Our 
 Mother, regard Khymyelnitski as a sort of saint and rever- 
 ence him." 
 
 "That's it exactly! exactly! I told Azya the very same 
 thing/' cried Pan Bogush." 
 
 "Wonderful are the decrees of the Almighty!" exclaimed 
 the Hetman, after a pause, "old Tukhay shed oceans of blood 
 in our land and his son is now serving it, at least he has 
 served it faithfully till now, but now it is doubtful whether 
 he won't want to enjoy power in the Crimea." 
 
 "Now? Now he is more faithful than ever, and this is 
 the beginning of the second part of my news, in which per- 
 haps may be found the help and salvation for the distressed 
 Commonwealth. As God lives the news made me forget 
 weariness and peril in my eagerness to impart it as quickly 
 as possible to relieve your afflicted heart." 
 
 "I am all attention!" cried Pan Sobieski. 
 
 Bogush began to unfold Azva's plans and presented them 
 so enthusiastically as to become quite eloquent; now and then 
 his hand, trembling with excitement, would pour out a glass 
 of mead, spilling the generous liquor over the edge as he 
 proceeded. Vivid pictures of the future passed in procession 
 before the amazed eyes of the Grand Hetman; thousands 
 and myriads arrived for lands and liberty, accompanied by 
 their wives, children, and herds: The Cossacks, in amaze- 
 ment at the new power of the Commonwealth, bowed down 
 before it in obedience and did obeisance to the King and 
 his Hetman. Rebellion ceased in the Ukraine, no longer did 
 raids, as wasting as fire or flood, come along the old roads 
 against Eussia; but, side by side with the Polish and Cossack 
 troops, moved across the illimitable steppes, with blare of 
 trumpets and beat of drums, the chambuls of Ukraine noble 
 Tartars. 
 
 And, year after year, wagon after wagon arrived notwith- 
 standing the orders of Khan and Sultan, bringing mighty 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 275 
 
 throngs who preferred bread and the black soil of the Ukraine 
 to the old famished settlements. . . . And all this force, 
 hitherto hostile, was coming into the service of the Com- 
 monwealth. The Crimea was drained of its inhabitants, the 
 Khan and the Sultan lost their ancient power and the fear 
 of them died out, for, from the steppes and the Ukraine, the 
 new Hetman of the new Tartar nobility faced them threaten- 
 ingly! A guardian and a faithful defender of the Common- 
 wealth, the famous son of <a terrible father, young Tukhay 
 Bey. 
 
 A deep flush spread over Bogush's face; it seemed as if 
 he was carried away by his own eloquence, for at last, he 
 lifted both hands and cried: 
 
 "This is what I bring! This is what that Dragon's cub 
 has hatched out in the wild forests of Khreptyov. Nothing 
 more is needed now than to give him a letter and Your High- 
 ness's authorization to spread the news in the Crimea and 
 on the Danube. Your Highness, if the son of Tukhay Bey 
 were to do nothing more than stir up trouble, in the Crimea 
 and on the Danube, to cause dissensions, and excite the 
 hydra of internecine strife among the Tartars, to set camp 
 against camp, and this on the eve of the struggle, I repeat, 
 he would be rendering an enormous and deathless service to 
 the Commonwealth." 
 
 But Pan Sobieski strode back and forth through the room 
 in silence. His noble face was dark and almost terrible; he 
 strode on and it could be seen that his heart was taking secret 
 counsel, whether with himself or with God, who could say?" 
 
 Finally thou didst tear some leaf out of thy soul, Grand 
 Hetman, for the answer thou gavest to the orator was as fal- 
 lows: 
 
 "Bogush, had I even the right to give such a letter and 
 such authorization, I would not give them while I had life." 
 
 These words fell on the ears of Bogush as heavily as if 
 they had been drops of molten lead or iron, so that for a sea- 
 son he was speechless and hung his head, and only after a 
 long pause did he groan: 
 
 "But why, Your Highness, why? .. . . 
 
 "Tn the first place, I will tell you as a statesman, that 
 the name of the son of Tukhay Bey might bring over a cer- 
 tain number of Tartars, it is true, if lands, freedom, and the 
 privileges of nobles were offered them, but there would be 
 fewer than you and he have supposed. Moreover, it would 
 
276 -P-Atf MICHAEL. 
 
 be the act of a madman to summon Tartars to the Ukraine 
 and settle new tribes there when we cannot even manage 
 the Cossacks alone. You assert that the immediate result 
 would be mutual strife and dissensions and that a sword 
 would be suspended above the Cossack neck; but what as- 
 surance is there that that sword would not also be stained 
 with Polish blood. Hitherto, 1 have not been acquainted 
 with this Azya, but now I see that the dragon of pride and 
 ambition dwells in his heart,, and so I again demand who 
 will be surety against his turning out a second Khrnyelnitski. 
 He will overcome the Cossacks, but if the Commonwealth fails 
 to satisf}^ some demand or other, or threatens to execute jus- 
 tice and punishment, for any act of violence, he will join 
 hands with the Cossacks, call fresh hordes from the East, as 
 Tukhay Bey was called by Khymelnitski, sell himself to the 
 Sultan like Doroshenko, and instead of an increase in power, 
 we shall suffer additional carnage and defeat." 
 
 "Your Mightiness, when the Tartars have become nobles, 
 they will cling faithfully to^he Commonwealth." 
 
 "Were the renegade Lipkov and Cheremis Tartars so few? 
 They were nobles for a long. time, and yet deserted to the 
 Sultan." 
 
 "The Lipkovs were deprived of their privileges!" 
 
 "But what will be the result, if, at the outset, as is certain 
 to happen, the nobles of Poland oppose such an extension of 
 their privileges to aliens? With what show of right, with 
 what conscience, will you give to savage marauders, who 
 have been incessantly desolating our fatherland, the power 
 and privilege of determining the fate of that land, electing 
 Kings and sending members to the diets? Why bestow 
 such a reward upon them? What madness has entered the 
 brain of this Lipkov, and what evil spirit has possessed you, 
 my old warrior, to allow yourself to be persuaded and fooled 
 1 in such fashion as to give credit to such infamy ard such 
 impossibility?" 
 
 Bogush lowered his eyes and replied in a faltering voice: 
 
 "Your Mightiness, I knew in advance that there would be 
 opposition from the Estates of the Realm, but Azya asserted 
 that if the Tartars established themselves with the authority 
 of Your Mightiness they would not allow themselves to be 
 ejected." 
 
 "Man, why it was a menace! he shook his sword over the 
 Commonwealth and vou did not see it!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 277 
 
 "Your Mightiness!" cried Bogush in desperation, "it might 
 be managed so that all the Tartars should not be ennobled, 
 but only the most important of them, and the rest be pro- 
 claimed free. Even in that case they would answer the call 
 of the son of Tukhay Bey." 
 
 "But why isn't it preferable to proclaim freedom for all the 
 Cossacks. Peace! old soldier, I tell you that an evil spirit 
 has taken possession of you/' 
 
 "Your Mightiness. . . . 
 
 "And further," (here Pan Sobieski's lion-like brow became 
 wrinkled and his eyes flashed) "even if it were to happen 
 as you say, even if by this means our power were increased; 
 even if war with Turkey were avoided; even if the nobles 
 themselves were to shout for it, yet, while this hand of mine 
 can wield the sabre and make the sign of the Cross, I will 
 never, never, consent to such a thing. So help me God!" 
 
 "Why, Your Mightiness?" reiterated Pan Bogush wring- 
 ing his hands. 
 
 "Because not only am I a Polish, but a Christian Hetman, 
 for I stand to guard the Cross. And even if these Cossacks 
 lacerate the entrails of the Commonwealth more brutally 
 than ever, I will not use the swords of the Infidels to sever 
 the necks of a blind, but still Christian community; for by 
 such action, I should be saying 'Raca' to our fathers and 
 grandfathers, to my own ancestors and their ashes, and to 
 the tears and blood of the entire Commonwealth in the past. 
 As God is true! if destruction is to be our lot, if our name 
 must be that of a dead, instead of a living nation, at least 
 let our glory remain and some memory of that duty which 
 was pointed out to us by God. Let people who come after 
 us say as they look at those crosses and tombs: 'Here was true 
 Christianity, here they defended the Cross against the vile- 
 ness of Mohammedanism so long as they had breath in their 
 bodies and blood in their veins; and they died for other na- 
 tions/ That is our duty, Bogush. Look, we are the strong- 
 hold on which Christ has set his crucifix and you tell me, 
 a soldier of the Lord, nay, the commander of the fortress, to 
 be the first to throw open the gates and admit the Infidels 
 like wolves to a sheepfold and deliver over the sheep, the 
 flock of Jesus to the slaughter. Rather let us suffer from 
 chambuls; rather let us bear rebellion; rather let us meet this 
 dreadful war; rather let us too fall, and the whole Common- 
 wealth perish than disgrace our name, lose our renown, and 
 betray this guardianship and service of the Lord/' 
 
278 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 As he concluded Pan Sobieski towered in his full grandeur, 
 and his face shone like the dawn as must have shone that 
 of Godfrey de Bouillon when, on the walls of Jerusalem, he 
 cried: "God wills it!" Before those words Pan Bogush 
 seemed a dust in his own eyes and Azya seemed to him as 
 dust beside Pan Sobieski; and the young Tartar's brilliant 
 schemes suddenly grew dark and became in Bogush's eyes 
 altogether vile and infamous. For what reply could he make 
 to the Hetman's words "that it was better to die than to 
 betray the service of the Lord/ What argument could he 
 advance? and so the poor knight did not know whether to 
 fall at the Hetman's feet or to beat his own breast and cry, 
 "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." ("My sin, my great sin/') 
 But at that moment the sound of bells was heard from the 
 neighboring Dominican monastery. 
 
 As he heard it Pan Sobieski cried: 
 
 "They are ringing to vespers, Bogush, let us go and sub- 
 mit ourselves to God!" 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 To the same degree that Pan Bogush hurried on his wa} 
 from Khreptyov to the Hetman, so he loitered on his way 
 back. In each town of any size he halted for a week or two, 
 spending the feast in Lemburg, and remaining there till the 
 New Year. It is true that he was taking the Hetman's in- 
 structions to Tukhay Bey's son, but these merely amounted to 
 orders to bring the business of the Lipkov leaders to a prompt 
 conclusion, and a sharp and even menacing order to relin- 
 quish his great designs. Pan Bogush had therefore no reason 
 for haste, since Azya could take no steps with the Tartars 
 without a letter from the Hetman. 
 
 He therefore lingered and visited churches along the way, 
 performing penance because he had fallen in with Azya's 
 schemes. Meanwhile, directly after the new year, many 
 guests had arrived at Khreptyov. From Kamenets came 
 Naviragh, an envoy from the Patriarch of Uzmiadzin, accom- 
 panied by two Anardrats, learned divines from Kaffa, with 
 many attendants. The soldiers were greatly interested in 
 the strange garb of these people, at the violet and crimson 
 Crimean caps, with long shawls of velvet and silk above their 
 dark *f aces and their intense gravity, as they walked like cranes 
 and bustards about the Khreptyov post. Pan Zaharyash Pyo- 
 trovich, famous for his constant travels to the Crimea and 
 even to Tsarograd itself, and yet more for his diligence in 
 seeking and ransoming captives in the slave markets of the 
 East, came with Naviragh and the Anardrats as interpreter. 
 Pan Michael at once handed him the sum that was necessary 
 for the ransom of Pan Boski, and, as the wife of the latter 
 had not enough money, he made it up from his own pocket; 
 Basia contributed her pearl ear-rings to help the distressed 
 lady and her charming daughter. Pan Seferovich, Pretor of 
 Kamenets, was also there a wealthy Armenian, whose 
 brother was groaning in captivity among the Tartars and 
 two women who were still young and far from plain, though 
 rather swarthy, named Pani Neresevich and Pan! Kyernovich. 
 Both had husbands in captivity. 
 
 (279) 
 
280 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 The majority of the guests were in great distress, but there 
 was no lack of happy ones also. Father Kaminski had sent 
 his neice, Panna Kaminska, to be present at Shrovetide in 
 Ivhreptyov and under Basia's care, and one day the younger 
 Pan Novovyeyski Pan Adam broke in upon them like a 
 thunderbolt. Having heard of his father's arrival from 
 Khreptyov, he at once obtained furlough from Pan Rush- 
 chyts, and hastened to receive him. 
 
 Young Pan Adam had greatly altered during the last year 
 or two; in the first place, his upper lip was thickly shaded 
 by a dark short moustache which did not conceal his teeth, 
 that were white as those of a wolf, but was curled and shapely. 
 In the second place, the youth, who was always well built, had 
 now grown to be almost a giant. It seemed that only that 
 great head could carry such thick and bushy hair, and only 
 such a mighty neck could support that head. His face, which 
 was always dark, had become tanned with the winds; his eyes 
 glowed like coals and his features expressed defiance. A large 
 apple could be concealed so easily in his mighty grasp that he 
 could play "Which one will you have?" with it, and he could 
 grind a handful of nuts on his knee to snuff. His whole body 
 made for strength, otherwise he was lean and slim in the 
 waist, but his chest above was as big as a chapel. 
 
 He could snap horse-shoes with the greatest ease and tie 
 iron rods in a bow around the soldiers necks, he looked even 
 bigger than he really was; the boards creaked under him as he 
 walked, and when he stumbled against a bench, it was splin- 
 tered. 
 
 In a word, he was one man in a humdred, in whom life, 
 power, and boldness seethed like water in a pan; it seemed as 
 if his powers could not find room even in his mighty body, 
 and that there was a flame in his breast and head and one half- 
 expected to see his hair smoking. Sometimes indeed vapor 
 did arise from it, for he was famous at the cups. He went 
 into battle with laughter like the neighing of a steed, and he 
 used his sword in such a way that when the fight was over 
 the soldiers would go to examine his victims and marvel at 
 his astonishing strokes. Moreover, as he had been used to 
 the Steppes and battle and vigils from early life, he was 
 cautious and farsighted, notwithstanding his boisterousness; 
 he was acquainted with every Tartar trick, and next to Pan 
 Michael and Rushchyts he was considered the best border 
 leader, Notwithstanding his assurances and threats, old 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 281 
 
 Novovyeyski did not give his son a very harsh reception, fear- 
 ing that if he offended him he would go away again and not 
 come back for another eleven years. But in reality, the mean 
 old noble was secretly pierced with this son who had not 
 taken any money away with him, and who had taken good 
 care of himself in the world and gained glory among his own 
 companions, besides the good will of the Hetman and the 
 rank of an officer, which very few could have managed to do 
 without interest. The father thought that the youth who had 
 run wild in the Steppes, was not likely to bow to his father's 
 authority, and therefore, it would be better not to put it to 
 the test. So the son fell at his feet as was right, but he 
 looked him straight in the eyes and, at the first reproach, he 
 unceremoniously replied: 
 
 "Father, your lips speak complaint, but in your heart, you 
 are glad, as you should be. I got into no disgrace. I ran away 
 to the army because I am a noble." 
 
 "But you may be a Mussulman/' answered the father, "as 
 you haven't appeared at home for eleven years." 
 
 "I did not show my face, for fear of being punished, which 
 would be an outrage to my rank and dignity <as an officer. 
 I waited for a letter of forgiveness; the letter didn't come, 
 nor did you get tidings of me." 
 
 "But aren't you afraid now?" 
 
 The young man smiled and showed his white teeth. 
 
 "This post is under military government and that is above 
 even a father's authority. My benefactor, why don't you em- 
 brace me, as you are longing to do." 
 
 With these words, he extended his arms and Pan Novov- 
 yeyski scarcely knew what to do. It was certain that he could 
 not quarrel with his son who had left his home when a boy 
 and now came back a grown man and a celebrated military 
 officer. Moreover, Pan No vovyey ski's paternal pride was 
 greatly fed by one thing and another, and so he would gladly 
 have pressed him to his breast but, . . . what about his 
 own dignity? 
 
 But the son clasped him in his embrace and made the 
 bones of the old noble crack, which completely vanquished 
 him. 
 
 "What can I do?" he gasped. "The rascal feels that he is 
 mounted on his own horse, and has no fear. On my word if 
 I were in my own home, I shouldn't be so gentle, but what 
 can I do here. Well then, embrace me again!" 
 
282 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 And after the second embrace, the youth hastened to in- 
 quire after his sister. 
 
 "I ordered her to be kept out of the way till I called her," 
 answered his father; "the girl will be ready to jump out of 
 her skin." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! where is she?" cried his son, and he 
 opened the door and began to shout till the whole place 
 echoed: "Evka, Evka!" 
 
 Evka was waiting in the next room, and rushed in, but had 
 scarcely time to cry "Adam !" when she was clasped in mighty 
 arms and lifted from the floor. Her brother had always been 
 very fond of her; in the old days, to shield her from their 
 father's tyranny, he would very often take the credit of her 
 faults on himself, and more than once received the floggings 
 which should have been hers. Pan Novovyeyski was an old 
 tyrant at home and very harsh, and consequently she now wel- 
 comed that strong brother, not simply as a brother, but as a 
 future shelter and protection. He kissed her on the brow 
 and eyes and hands, now and then holding her away from him, 
 gazing at her and crying delightedly: 
 
 "A lovely girl, as I love God!" and again: 
 
 "Just look how she has grown, a regular stove, not merely 
 a maiden!" 
 
 She smiled at him with her eyes. Then they began to talk 
 very quickly of their long separation, and of home, and the 
 wars. Old Pan Novovyeyski hovered round them muttering. 
 He was greatly impressed with his son, but now and then he 
 seemed to be considerably disturbed about his future au- 
 thority. That period was one of great parental rule which 
 afterwards increased beyond all limits; but this son was that 
 warrior, from the wild border posts who was riding his own 
 horse. Pan Novovyeyski was very jealous of his parental 
 authority. Still, he was sure that his son would always pay 
 him respect and give him his due, but the question was, would 
 he always yield like wax? Would he put up with everything 
 as he had when a boy? "Bah!" reflected the old noble, "if I 
 want to do it, I'll treat him like a boy. He is a spunky sub- 
 lieutenant and impresses me, as God is dear to me!" The 
 end of it was that Pan Novovyeyski felt his parental love in- 
 creasing every moment, and that he would end by developing 
 a great weakness for this gigantic son. 
 
 In the meantime Evka was twittering like a bird and del- 
 uging her brother with questions. When was he coming 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 283 
 
 home, and wouldn't he settle down and marry? She is not 
 quite clear about it, and can't be sure, but, as she loves her 
 father, she has heard it said that soldiers are prone to fall in 
 love. "Bah!" she remembers now, it was Pani Volodiyovski 
 who told her so. How kind and lovely that Pani Volodiyovski 
 is. You couldn't, with a candle, find a lovelier or better 
 woman in all Poland. Perhaps the only one who can be men- 
 tioned in the same breath with her, is Zosia Boska." 
 
 "And who is Zosia Boska?" asks Pan Adam? 
 
 "A young lady who is staying here with her sister, and 
 whose father was captured by the Horde. When you see her, 
 you will fall in love with her." 
 
 "Let's have Zosia Boska!" cried the young officer. 
 
 His father and Evka laughed at his readiness. 
 
 "Love is like death/' said the son; "it passes no one by. 
 I hadn't a hair on my face, and Pani Volodiyovski was quite 
 a girl, when I fell desperately in love with her. Ah, good 
 God! how I did love that Bashka! And what then? Some- 
 time I will tell her, I thought. I did tell her, and the answer 
 came like a blow in the face. Shoo ! cat, leave the milk alone! 
 It seemed that she was already in love with Pan Michael, and 
 what's the use of talking? she was right." 
 
 "Why?" asked old Pan ISTovovyeyski. 
 
 "Why? for this reason! because without boasting I can say 
 that I could hold my own with the sabre against any one else, 
 but he wouldn't need to play with me while you could repeat 
 two Paters. Moreover, he is a matchless fighter, to whom even 
 Rushchyts would take off his cap. Pan Rushchyts, even! 
 Even the Tartars love him. There is no greater soldier in the 
 Commonwealth." 
 
 "And how he and his wife do love each other! why, it's 
 enough to make your eyes ache to look at them," cried Evka. 
 
 "Ah, ha! so your mouth is watering; your mouth is water- 
 ing, for your time has come too!" exclaimed Pan Adam. And, 
 putting his hands on his hips, he began to nod his head at 
 his sister like a horse, and smile, but she answered in con- 
 fusion: 
 
 "I haven't a thought of it." 
 
 "Well, there's no scarcity of officers and pleasant fellows 
 here." 
 
 "But I don't know whether father has told you that Azya 
 is here," paid Evka. 
 
 "AzvR Mellekhovieh the Lipkov! I know him, he's a fine 
 soldier." 
 
284 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "But you are not aware that he is not Mellekhovich, but 
 that same Azya who grew up beside you/' said old Pan Novov- 
 yeyski. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! what's that you say? Only think of it! 
 that idea sometimes occurred to me too, but they told me 
 that his name was Mellekhovich and so I thought he could 
 not be .the same man. Azya is ri common name among them. 
 It was so many years since I had seen him that I couldn't be 
 sure. Ours was rather short and ugly, but this one is very 
 handsome." 
 
 "He is ours^" cried old Novovyeyski, "or rather not ours, 
 for do you know whose son he turns out to be?" 
 
 "How should I?" 
 
 "He is the son of the great Tukhay Bey." 
 
 The young man struck his strong hands on his knees till 
 the sound echoed through the house. 
 
 "I can't believe my ears! the great Tukhay Bey. If that's 
 true, he is a prince, and related to the Khan. There's no 
 better blood in the Crimea than that of Tukhay Bey." 
 
 "It is the blood of a foe." 
 
 "It was so in the father, but the son serves us. I have 
 myself seen him under fire twenty times. Ah, I now under- 
 stand where he gets that devilish daring. Pan Sobieski hon- 
 ored him in the presence of the whole army, and made him a 
 setnik. I am glad to meet him from the bottom of my soul; 
 a tough soldier! I will welcome him with my whole heart." 
 
 "But don't be too familiar with him!" 
 
 "Why not? Is he a servant of mine or yours? I am a 
 soldier and so is he; I am an officer and so is he. Bah! if he 
 were some infantry fellow who directs his men with a reed, 
 I shouldn'^ have a word to say, but if he is a son of Tukhay 
 Bey, then he has no common blood in his veins. He is a 
 prince, and there is nothing more to be said. The Hetman 
 himself will have him ennobled. How should I turn up my 
 nose at him, when I am in brotherhood with Kulak Murza, 
 Bakhchyaga,, and Sukyman? not one of these would think 
 himself demeaned by herding sheep for Tukhay Bey." 
 
 Evka was suddenly tempted to kiss her brother again, and 
 then she sat down close to him and began to stroke his shaggy 
 hair with her beautiful hand. 
 
 These caresses were interrupted by the entrance of Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 Pan Adam sprang up to welcome his superior officer, and 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 285 
 
 immediately began to explain that he had not paid his respects 
 to the commander in the first place, because he had not come 
 on duty, but only in his private capacity. Pan Michael cor- 
 dially embraced him and answered: 
 
 "And who would find fault with you, dear comrade, if you 
 should first go and fall at your father's feet after so many 
 years of separation. If it had been a matter of duty, it would 
 have been otherwise, but have you no messages from Pan 
 Rushchyts?" 
 
 "Only respectful greetings. Pan Rushchyts went to Yahor- 
 lik, because he was informed that there were a great many 
 horse-tracks in the snow. My colonel received your letter 
 and sent it on to the Horde to his parents and relations with 
 instructions to search and make inquiries there, but he did 
 not write himself. He said: "My hand is too heavy, and I 
 have no experience in that art!" 
 
 "I know he does not like to write," said Pan Michael. 
 "With him the sabre is everything." 
 
 Here the little knight twisted his moustache and added, 
 with a touch of boasting: 
 
 "And yet you vainly hunted Azya Bey for two months!" 
 
 "But your lordship has swallowed him down as a pike does 
 a blackfish!" enthusiastically cried Pan Adam. "Well, God 
 must have confused his mind so that when he evaded Pan 
 Rushchyts, he ran into your arms. He got it." 
 
 These words greatly pleased the little knight and, to pay 
 courtesy with courtesy, he turned to Pan Novovyeyski and 
 said: 
 
 "So far, the Lord Jesus has denied me a son, but if he ever 
 gives me one, I should like him to be just such another one 
 as this." 
 
 "There is nothing in him," the little noble replied, "noth- 
 ing at all, and that 7 s the end of it." 
 
 But notwithstanding his words, his breast heaved with 
 gratification. 
 
 "This is another delicacy for me. . . !" 
 
 In the meantime the little knight stroked Evka's face, and 
 said to her: 
 
 "You see that I am no child, but my Bashka is almost the 
 same age as you, and so I sometimes think that she ought to 
 have some pleasure more appropriate for her years. . . It is 
 true that everybody here loves her dearly, and I hope you see 
 some justification for it." 
 
286 
 
 "Dear God!" cried Evka, "in all the world, there is not 
 such another woman. I said so only a moment ago." 
 
 The little knight was perfectly delighted, and his face 
 grew radiant as he asked: 
 
 "Ah, so! did you indeed?" 
 
 "As I live, she did/' cried father and son, in chorus. 
 
 "Very well! put on your smartest clothes, for, unknown to 
 :>ashka, I have fetched a band from Kamenets to-day. I told 
 (hem to cover the instruments with straw and I explained 
 to her that they were Gypsies coming to shoe the horses. 
 To-night we'll have great dancing; she loves it, although she 
 likes to play the dignified matron." 
 
 Then Pan Michael began to rub his hands and was highly 
 delighted with himself. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The snow fell so heavily that it filled the moat of tin 
 military post to the brink, and drifted against the stockacK. 
 like a bank. It was a stormy night outside, but the great 
 hall of Khreptyov was blazing with light. There were two 
 violins, a bass viol, a flageolet, a French horn, and two bugles. 
 The fiddlers worked away with all their might. The cheeks 
 of the players of the flageolets and bugles were distended 
 till their eyes became bloodshot. The old officers sat on 
 benches round the walls near each other, like gray doves 
 sitting on the roof in front of their cotes and watched the 
 dances as they drank their wine and mead. Basia and 
 Pan Mushalski were the first pair, the latter, notwithstand- 
 ing his years, being as famous a dancer as an archer. Basia 
 wore a silver brocade dress edged with ermine, and looked 
 like a half-blown rose in new-fallen snow. Everybody mar- 
 velled at her beauty and from the breasts of many of them 
 arose the involutary exclamation, "Save us!" for although 
 Panna Evka and Panna Zosia were not quite so old and more 
 than usually beautiful, yet Basia surpassed them all. Pleas- 
 ure and happiness were dancing in her eyes. As she flew past 
 the little knight, she thanked him with a smile for the 
 entertainment. Between her parted rosy lips gleamed her 
 white teeth and she flashed in her silver robe shining like 
 the rays of the sun or stars and bewitched heart and eye with 
 the combined beauty of a child, a woman, and a flower. 
 
 The slashed sleeves of her robe fluttered behind her like 
 the wings of a giant butterfly, and, when she lifted her 
 skirts and made a courtesy to her partner, one would have 
 thought that she was floating on the earth like a vision, or 
 like one of those fairies which skim along the brinks of the 
 ravines on bright summer nights. Outside the hall the sol- 
 diers pressed their wild hairy faces against the lighted panes 
 and looked into the room as they flattened their noses against 
 the glass. They were greatly delighted to see how their 
 beloved lady excelled everybody in beauty, for they were 
 
 (287) 
 
2 88 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 fierce partisans of hers, and so I hoy wore not sparing in justs 
 and remarks on Panna Evka or Panna Zosia and every time 
 Basia came near the wondow, they cheered her loudly. 
 Volodiyovski swelled like dough under the influence of yeast 
 and kept time with Basia's movements by nodding his 
 head; Pan Zagloba stood near holding a goblet in his hand, 
 and kept time with his foot, and spilt his liquor on the floor, 
 and now and then he and the little knight would turn and 
 gaze at each other in an ecstacy of delight. 
 
 Basia gleamed and sparkled all over the room, more 
 joyous and bewithching every moment. Such was the life 
 of the wilderness for her! First a battle, then a hunt, then 
 entertainment, dancing and music and a crowd of soldiers, 
 the greatest of them all being her husband and he, both 
 tender and beloved; she knew that she was loved and ad- 
 mired and received the homage of everybody and that this 
 made the little knight happy; consequently, she herself was 
 as happy as the birds at the advent of Spring when they sing 
 and rejoice in the sweet May weather. 
 
 The second couple consisted of Azya and Xoveska, who 
 wore a crimson jacket. The young Tartar, who was com- 
 pletely intoxicated with the white vision gleaming in front 
 of him, did not address a word to Evka; but she, under the 
 impression that he was silent with emotion, tried to encour- 
 age him by pressing his hand, first lightly, and then more 
 strongly. Azya also pressed her hand so strongly that she 
 could scarcely restrain a cry of pain, but he did so involun- 
 tarily, for he was thinking only of Basia and, in his heart, 
 he was swearing a terrible oath that she should be his, even 
 if he had to waste half Russia with fire. Sometimes, when 
 he recollected himself, a desire seized him to clutch Evka 
 by the throat and throttle her, and gloat over her, because 
 she was pressing his hand and stood between him and Basia. 
 Sometimes his cruel falcon glance transfixed the poor girl, 
 and her heart began to beat more strongly with the thought 
 that it was love that made him gaze at her so fiercely. 
 
 Pan Adam Xovovyeyski and Zosia Boska formed the third 
 couple. She looked like a forget-me-not, and danced along 
 beside him with lowered eyes, while he looked like a wild 
 horse and pranced like one. Splinters were flying from under 
 his iron heels and his hair was standing upright: his face 
 was as red as a beet; his nostrils dilated like a Turkish war- 
 horse and he swept Zosia around and carried her through 
 
PAX MICHAEL. 289 
 
 Ihc air like a leaf in a whirlwind. His spirits rose every 
 moment, because he often lived on the edge of the steppes 
 for months without even the sight of a woman. The very 
 first glance at Zosia had so delighted him that lie was des- 
 perately in love with her in another instant. Now and then 
 he would look at her downcast eyes and flushed cheeks, and 
 it almost made him snort with pleasure, and then his heels 
 would strike fire more vigorously, and he would hold her, 
 as they turned in the dance, more strongly to his broad 
 breast and burst into a loud fit of happy laughter; his love 
 and joyousness seethed up higher in him each instant, but 
 Zosia's poor litle heart was fearful; but it was not altogether 
 a disagreeable fear, because she was pleased with this tempest 
 of a man, who whirled her along and took her with him, 
 a regular dragon! She had seen many different knights in 
 Yavorov, but, till -now, she had never come across such a 
 iicry one, not one that danced as he did, nor one that carried 
 her along in that way. A regular dragon indeed! What 
 could she do with him as it was bevond her power to resist. 
 ? 
 
 The next couple consisted of Panna Kaminska dancing 
 with a courteous knight, and she was followed by Pani Kyer- 
 emovich and Pani Neresevich, who, although the wives of 
 merchants, were invited to the party, because they were both 
 of courtly breeding and very rich. The dignified Naviragh 
 and the two Anardrats watched the Polish dancers with 
 growing astonishment; the old men were becoming more 
 noisy over their cups of mead, sounding like grasshoppers 
 among the stubble. But all the voices were drowned by the 
 music and in the middle of the hall general delight was in- 
 creasing. 
 
 Presently,* Baeia left her partner and ran panting to her 
 husband and clasped her hands to him. 
 
 "Michael," she prayed, "outside it is so cold for the soldiers, 
 order a barrel of gorzalka to be given to them." 
 
 He was more than usually happy and so he kissed her hands 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 "If it would please you, you would have my very blood." 
 
 Then he hastened out himself to inform the soldiers to 
 whom they owed the barrel, because he wanted them to thank 
 Basin and love her all the more. 
 
 For answer they raised such a shout as to shake the snow 
 from the roof, whereupon the little knight cried: 
 19 
 
290 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Fire off your muskets as a salute to the mistress. 7 ' 
 
 On his return he found Basia dancing with Azya. When 
 the Tartar encircled that lovely form with his arm, and felt 
 the warmth of her contact and her breath on his cheek, his 
 eyes turned upwards and the whole world seemed to be swim- 
 ming before him; in his heart he relinquished Paradise and 
 eternity, for of all the Houris, this was the sole one he de- 
 sired. Then Basia, as she saw the passing gleam of Evka's 
 crimson jacket, and was anxious to know if Asya had yet 
 proposed, asked: 
 
 "Have you told her?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "The time has not yet come," he said, with a strange ex- 
 pression. 
 
 "But are you not deeply in love?" 
 
 "To the death, to the death!" replied Tukhayovich, in low 
 and hoarse tones, like the croak of a raven. 
 
 And they danced on directly behind Pan Adam, who had 
 gone to the front. The others had changed partners, but 
 Pan Adam would not release Zosia, only now and then he 
 would find a seat for her on a bench to rest and recover her 
 breath, and then he would start afresh. 
 
 At last, he stopped in front of the musicians and cried to 
 them, as he held Zosia with one arm: 
 
 "Play the Krakoviak, go on." 
 
 And obediently to his orders, they imemdiately started. 
 
 Pan Adam beat time with his foot and sang with a mighty 
 voice, 
 
 " Bright torrents run 
 In the Dniester river 
 Afterwards they are lost ; ^ 
 
 So is lost in thee, oh, maiden, 
 Lost in thee, my heart, 
 U-ha." 
 
 And he roared out that U-ha in such a Cossack way, that 
 Zosienka nearly died with fright. The dignified Xaviragh, 
 who was standing near, was scared and so were the two 
 learned Anardrats, but Pan Adam led the dance on again. 
 Twice he circled the room and halting in front of the band, 
 again sang of his heart: 
 
 " Lost, but not perished, 
 In spite of the Dneister 
 In the depths it will fish out 
 A little golden ring. 
 U ha." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 2 $I 
 
 "Very pretty verses," cried Pan Zagloba, "I am very clever 
 at that kind of thing, and have made many of them. Bark, 
 bark away, knight, bark away, and when you find the ring, 
 I'll continue like this: 
 
 " Every maiden is flint 
 Every swain is steel 
 There will be no end of sparks 
 If you strike strongly, 
 U-ha." 
 
 "Vivat, vivat, Pan Zagloba, "shouted all the officers ii. 
 mighty tones till the dignified Naviragh and the two learned 
 Anardrats were greatly alarmed and gazed at each other in 
 great astonishment. 
 
 Pan Adam made the circuit twice again and at last seated 
 his partner on the bench, panting and amazed at the daring 
 of her cavalier. She was very much taken with him, he was 
 so honest, and brave, though a regular thunderstorm, but she 
 was greatly confused, because she had never met a man like 
 this before, and so She cast down her eyes more than ever 
 and sat silent as a shy child. 
 
 "Why are you so silent, is anything grieving you," asked 
 Pan Adam. 
 
 "Because my father is in captivity," Zosia replied, in faint 
 tones. 
 
 "Don't think of that," said the young man, "the proper 
 thing is to dance. Look at this room, here are some dozens of 
 officers, and in all probability not one will die a natural death, 
 but from the arows of the Infiidels or in captivity. One to- 
 day and another to-morrow." 
 
 "Every man on the border has lost some one, and we take 
 our pleasure so that God may not think that we murmur at 
 our duty. That's the way. Dancing is the proper thing. 
 Smile, little maiden, raise your eyes, for I think that you care 
 for me." 
 
 Zosia did not lift her eyes to be sure, but she raised the 
 corners of her mouth and two dimples appeared in her rosy 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Do you love me a little?" he asked. 
 
 And Zosia, in still lower tones answered, "And . . . 
 yes. . . . ' J 
 
 On hearing this Pan Adam sprang to his feet and caught 
 Zosia's hands and began to smother them with kisses, saying! 
 
 "Lost! there's no use talking, I love you to death, I don't 
 
2 9 2 
 
 PAN A//C7/.1/;/,. 
 
 want anyone but you, my beautiful darling. Go<l save mo, 
 how dearly I love you. In the morning, I will fall at yoi-r 
 mothers' feet. What's that? In the morning! I'll do it to- 
 night, so as to make sure of you." 
 
 A deafening roar of musketry outside the window drowiud 
 Zosia's reply. The delighted soldiers were firing a vivat for 
 Basia; the window panes rattled and the walls shook. The 
 dignified Naviragh and the tw'o learned Anardrats were scan"! 
 for the third time, but Zagloba, who stood by, tried to quiet 
 them saying, 
 
 "Apud Polonos nunquam sine clamore et strepitu gaud i a 
 fiunt." 
 
 As it turned out, they had only been waiting for that 
 salvo of musketry to revel to the utmost. The usual cere- 
 monious manner of the nobles now began to give place to 
 the wildness of the steppes. Music again blared out and dan- 
 cing broke out again like a tempest. Eyes flashed and glit- 
 tered and steam rose from the hair. Even the oldest joined 
 in the dance, and every moment loud shouts were heard, and 
 they drank and sported and drank toasts out of Basia's 
 shoe and fired with pistols at Evka's boot heels. Khrcptvov 
 roared and reveled and saoig till the dawn, till the beasts 
 in the neighboring wilderness concealed themselves in the 
 thickest woods from fear. 
 
 As this was happening almost on the brink of a dreadful war 
 with the power of the Turk, and terror and ruin were hover- 
 ing above all these people, the dignified Naviragh was amazed 
 beyond measure at these Polish soldiers, and the two learned 
 Anardrats were no less astonished. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Everybody slept late the next morning, except the guard 
 and the little knight, who never let pleasure interfere with 
 duty. Pan Adam was up early, for Panna Zosia Boska 
 ahvjiv? seemed to him, even more charming in the morning. 
 Donning his gayest clothes, he went into the hall, where they 
 had danced the night before, to ascertain if he could hear any 
 movement in the adjoining rooms which were occupied by 
 the ladies. 
 
 lit- heard a noise in the room occupied by Zosia Boska but 
 the youth was so impatient to get sight of Zosia that he drew 
 bis dagger and began to pick out the moss and clay from be- 
 IwH-n the boards, so that, please God, with one eye he might 
 have a glimpse of Zosia through the hole. 
 
 7a.u'loba, who at that moment, was passing with his beads in 
 his hand?, found him thus employed, and seeing at once, what 
 he. was up to, he stole up to him on the tips of his toes, and 
 began to beat him across the shoulders with his sandal- wood 
 heads. 
 
 Pan Adam jumped aside and seemed to shake with 
 laughter, but in reality, he was greatly disconcerted, and the 
 Id man followed him, and kept on striking at him. 
 
 "Oh you Turk, oh you Tartar, there you have it, there I 
 exorcise you, where are your morals, you want to get a look at 
 u woman, there you have it, there." 
 
 "Sir," exclaimed Pan Adam, "'tis not right to use holy 
 hi -ads as a whip. Let me go, I didn't mean anything wrong." 
 
 "You say it's not right to beat a man with a rosary. That's 
 not true. The Palm is sacred on Palm Sunday, and yet, 
 people use it for striking, besides, once these were infidel 
 hr ;! ds and belonged to Snban Kazi, but I snatched them from 
 him at Zbaraj, and, subsequently, they were blest by the 
 -tolic Xuncio. Look! they're genuine sandal-wood." 
 
 "!!' they are true sandal-wood, they are scented." 
 
 "Beads are scented to me, and a maiden to you, I must give 
 
 (293) 
 
294 PAN 
 
 your shoulders a good dressing yet, for there's nothing like 
 a rosary for driving out the devil." 
 
 "I didn't mean anything wrong. . . On my life, I didn't/' 
 
 "Were you only trying to bore a hole through piety?" 
 
 "Not piety, but love, which is so extraordinary, that I'm 
 not certain that it won't make me burst like a grenade. 
 What's the use of deception when it's true. Gadflies don't 
 worry a horse in the autumn as much as this disease worries 
 me." 
 
 "Take care that this is not sinful desire, for when I came in 
 you couldn't stand still, but were striking your heels together, 
 as if you were standing on a burning log." 
 
 "As true as I love God, I didn't see anything, for I had 
 only just begun to pick at the crack." 
 
 "Ah, youth, . . . blood isn't water, even I sometimes have 
 to restrain myself still, for in me, there is a lion seeking 
 whom he may devour. If your intentions are pure, you are 
 thinking of marriage." 
 
 "Pure thoughts of marriage, Almighty God, what should I 
 be thinking of. I am not only thinking of it, but I feel as if 
 someone were pricking me with an awl. Does not your lord- 
 ship know that I proposed to Panna Boska last night, and 
 have received my father's consent?" 
 
 "The boy is made of sulphur and powder. The hangman 
 take thee! If that is so, it's quite another matter, but tell me 
 how it happened." 
 
 "Last night, Pani Boska went to her room to fetch her 
 handkerchief for Zosia and I followed her. She turned 
 round, crying: 
 
 "Who's there, and I fell at her feet, crying, 'Mother, beat 
 me if you will, but give me Zosia, my bliss, my love.' But 
 Pani Boska recovering herself, said, 'Everybody praises you 
 and regards you as a noble knight, but I will not give you an 
 answer to-day, nor to-morrow, but later, and you must get 
 your father's permission.' Then she went out thinking that 
 I was overcome by wine. The fact is, I had a little in my 
 head." 
 
 "That's nothing. It was in everybody's head. Didn't you 
 see the pointed caps askew on the heads of Naviragh and the 
 Anardrats towards the last?" 
 
 "I didn't notice, for I was trying to think of the easiest way 
 to get my father's consent." 
 
 "Well, was it a difficult matter?" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 295 
 
 "Towards morning, we both retired to our room, and as it's 
 well to strike the iron while it is hot, I said to myself, it was 
 necessary to get at least an inkling of the view my father 
 would take of the business. 'Father/ I said, 'listen to me, 
 I want Zosia dreadfully, and I want your consent, and if you 
 won't give it, as God lives, I'll go and take service under the 
 Venetians, and that's the last you'll hear of me. Wasn't he 
 in a rage with me then! He cried, 'Oh, what a son I've got, 
 you can shift without the permission. Go to the Venetians, 
 or take the girl, but all I have to say is that you won't get a 
 cent either of my own or your mother's money, for it all be- 
 longs to me." 
 
 Zagloba protruded his lower lip. 
 
 "Ah, that's bad." 
 
 "Wait a moment, when I heard that, I said: But am I ask- 
 ing that, or do I need it? I want nothing but your blessing, 
 for the possessions of the Infidels that have fallen to my sabre 
 are enough to rent a good estate or even to purchase a village. 
 That what belonged to mother be Evka's do-wry; I will add 
 two handfulls of turquoise and some silk and brocade, and if 
 a bad year comes, I can help my father with cash." 
 
 "That greatly excited my father's curiosity, and he asked: 
 'Are you so rich, for God's sake, whence did it come? Was it 
 plunder, for when you left us, you were as poor as a 
 dervish?'" 
 
 "Fear God, father, I replied, it is eleven years since I began 
 to wield a sabre, and, as they say, it's not the worst in the 
 world, and shouldn't I gather something together, I was 
 present at the pillage of rebel towns in which marauders and 
 Tartars had collected the richest booty; I fought against 
 Murza's and robbers, and spoil kept on coming. I took only 
 what belonged to me, without injustice to anybody, but it 
 kept increasing, and if a fellow didn't have some sport some- 
 times, my property would now be twice as much as what your 
 father left you." 
 
 "What did the old man say to that?" asked Zagloba, joy- 
 fully. 
 
 "My father was astonished, for he hadn't expected that and 
 immediately began to complain of my spendthrift habits. He 
 said there would be an increase if it were not that this thrower 
 to the birds, this struting fellow, who only cares to plume 
 himself and play the great lord, squanders everything and 
 eaves nothing. Then his curiosity got the better of him, and 
 
296 PA * MICHAEL. 
 
 he began to try and find out in detail wlial. I own, and, seeing 
 that I could make best progress by swearing with that tar, I 
 not only concealed nothing, but overstated it, though gener- 
 ally, I don't exaggerate, for I say to myself, 'Truth is oats, 
 and lies chaff/ My father rested his head on his hands and 
 fell to thinking and planning: This or that estate might 
 have been purchased/ he said, 'this or that lordship might 
 have been maintained. We might have lived on both sides 
 of the border and in your absence, I might have looked after 
 everything,' and my worthy father began to shed tears. . . . 
 'Adam/ he said, 'I am very pleased with that girl for she is 
 under the Hetman's protection, then there may be some profit 
 in that, too?' 'Adam/ he said, 'mind you respect this, my 
 second daughter, and don't squander her property, or I 
 should never forgive you to my dying day, and I, my gracious 
 benefactor, cried out indignantly at the mere suspicion of any 
 injustice to Zosia. So father and 1 fell into each others arms 
 and mingled our tears until the first cock crowed." 
 
 "The old rascal!" murmured Zagloba, and then he added 
 aloud: 
 
 "So there may be a wedding soon, and fresh merry-makings 
 at Khreptyov, particularly as it is Shrovetide.", 
 
 "If he depended on me, there would be one to-morrow," 
 hastily cried Pan Adam, "but what of it sir; my leave will 
 soon be up, and duty is duty, so that I must return to Rash- 
 kov. I can't tell when Pan Eushchyts will grant me another 
 leave of absence. But I'm not so sure that the ladies will not 
 raise obstacles. For when I refer to the old mother, she says, 
 'My husband is in captivity.' What's that to do with me, I'm 
 not keeping the father in prison, am I? I'm very much 
 afraid of such hindrances, if it weren't for that, I would grasp 
 father Kaminski's soutane and wouldn't release him till he 
 had joined Zoska and me. But when women once get a thing 
 into their heads, you can't get it out with pinchers. I'd give 
 my last cent I have for papa, myself, but there's no way to do 
 so. Moreover, nobody knows where he is, perhaps he is dead, 
 and then there's a fine business. If they want me to wait for 
 him, I might have to wait till the last judgment day." 
 
 "Pyotrovich, Naviragh, and the Anardrats will set off to- 
 morrow, and we shall soon have news." 
 
 "Jesus save us! Have I got to wait for news? There 
 can't be anything before Spring. In the meantime, I shall 
 waste away, as God is dear to me, my kind benefactor, every- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 297 
 
 one has confidence in your wisdom and experience; won't you 
 beat this waiting out of the heads of these women. Kind sir, 
 there'll be war in the Spring. God knows what may happen, 
 besides, I want to marry Zoska and not papa. Why must I 
 go and sigh to him?" 
 
 "Induce the women to go and dwell at Rashkov. It will 
 be easier to get news there, and if Pyotrovich discovers Boska, 
 he won't be far from you. I repeat, I will do what I .can, 
 but you ask Pani Basia to help you. I won't fail to do so, I 
 won't fail, for the devil. . . . 
 
 Then the door creaked and Pani Boska came in. But be- 
 fore Zagloba could turn round, young Novovyeyski had already 
 dropped down at full length at her feet, and, taking up an 
 immense extent of the floor with his gigantic body, began to 
 cry: 
 
 "I possess my father's consent, give me Zoska, mother. 
 Give me Zoska, give me Zoska, mother." 
 
 "Give him Zosia, mother," added Zagloba in his deep bass 
 voice. The noise attracted people in the adjacent rooms. 
 Basia entered, and then, Pan Michael from his office, and 
 presently, Zosia herself. The girl never thought what was 
 the matter, but her face immediately grew crimson, and, 
 clasping her hands, she dropped them in front of her, pressed 
 her lips, and stood by the wall with downcast eyes. Pan 
 Michael ran for old Novovyeyski. When he arrived, he was 
 greatly incensed that his son had not entrusted the affair to 
 him, and left it to his eloquence, but nevertheless, he sup- 
 ported the request. 
 
 Pani Boska, who indeed was without support of any kind, 
 at last burst into tears and acceded to Pan Adam's request, as 
 well as to proceed to Rashkov and there await her husband. 
 Then still weeping, she turned to her daughter. 
 
 "Zosia," she asked, "are you willing to fall in with Pan 
 Adam's plans?" 
 
 All eyes were turned upon Zosia. She stood against the 
 wall with downcast eyes, as usual, and only after some mo- 
 ments' silence, did she answer in scarcely audible tones: 
 
 "I will go to Rashkov." 
 
 "My darling," shouted Pan Adam, as he sprang to her sifle, 
 and threw his arms round her. 
 
 Then he shouted till the walls shook: 
 
 "Zosia, is mine, mine, mine." 
 
) CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Young Pan Novovyeyski set out for Rashkov immediate! j 
 after his betrothal to procure and furnish lodgings for Pan) 
 and Panna Boska, and two weeks afterwards a whole convoy 
 of guests left Khreptyov. It included Naviragh, the new An- 
 ardrats, the Armenians, Kyeremovich, and Neresevich, Se- 
 ferevich, the Boska ladies, the two Pyotroviches, and Old 
 Pan Novovyeyski, and numerous attendants, as well as armed 
 followers for the protection of wagons, draft-horses and beasts 
 of burden. The Pyotroviches and the delegates of the Pa- 
 triarch of Uzmiadzin were merely to rest at Rashkov to re- 
 ceive tidings about their route, and then proceed to the 
 Crimea. The rest of the party intended to settle at Rashkov 
 for a time and wait at any rate till the first thaws for the 
 return of the prisoners namely, Boska, the younger Sefer- 
 evich, and the two merchants who had long been waiting in 
 grief. 
 
 The way was very hard as it lay through dreary stretches 
 of wilderness and precipitous ravines, luckily, there was 
 plenty of crisped snow to furnish excellent sleighing, and the 
 presence of the commands in Mohilov, Yampol, and Rashkov 
 assured their safety. Azba Bey was slain, and the robbers 
 either scattered or hanged, and in the winter, the Tartars 
 did not go out on customary trails for want of grass. 
 
 Moreover, Pan Adam had promised to meet them with a 
 few dozen cavalry, if Pan Rushchyts would grant permission. 
 They therefore set out in high spirits; Zosia was ready to go 
 ( to the world's end for the sake of Pan Adam. Pani Boska 
 and the two Armenian ladies had hopes of speedily recovering 
 their husbands. Rashkov, it- is true, was situated on the con- 
 fines of Christendom in -a terrible wilderness, but they were 
 not going there for a lifetime, however, nor to stay very 
 long. War would break out in the Spring, there was talk 
 of war everywhere along the border. It was necessary that 
 their loved ones when found, should return with the first 
 warm breeze if they wished to save their heads, 
 
 (298) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 299 
 
 Evka stayed behind at Khreptyov with Basia. Pan ISTovo- 
 vyeyski did not insist on taking his daughter along with 
 him, particularly as he was leaving her in a house of such 
 worthy people. 
 
 "I will send her in the utmost safety," said Basia, "or 
 rather, I will take her myself, because, for once in my life, 
 1 should like to see the whole of that terrible border, of 
 which I have heard so much since my childhood. In the 
 Spring, when the trails were black with chambuls my hus- 
 band would not allow me to go, but now, if Evka stays with 
 me, I shall have a good excuse. I shall begin to insist in 
 two weeks, and by the third, I shall certainly obtain per- 
 mission/' 
 
 "I hope your husband will not let you go in the winter, 
 unless well attended." 
 
 "If he can, he will go with me, if not, Azya will accom- 
 pany us with a couple hundred or more of cavalry, for I hear 
 that in any case he is to go to Rashkov." 
 
 Here the discussion ended, and Eva remained at Khrep- 
 tyov. Basia, however, had other schemes besides the rea- 
 sons she had given Pan Novovyeyski. She wanted to facili- 
 tate Asya's advances to Eva, because she was beginning to 
 get uneasy about the young Tartar. It is true that when- 
 ever he was questioned by Basia, he said, that he loved 
 Evka and that his old feeling had not died out, but when- 
 ever he was with Eva, he did not say a word. In the 
 meantime, the girl had fallen wildly in love with him in 
 the wilderness of Khreptyov. His savage but magnificent 
 beauty, his infancy spent under the strong hand of Novo- 
 vyeyeski, his wild but princely birth, the mystery with which 
 he had been surrounded, and, lastly, his military renown 
 had completely dazzled her. She was only waiting for the 
 moment to reveal to him her heart, burning like a flame, and 
 to cry, "Azya, I have loved thee from childhood, and to cast 
 herself into his arms and vow to love him till death." In 
 the meantime he clenched his teeth and kept silence. 
 
 At first Evka thought that the presence of her brother 
 and father acted as a restraint upon Azya, and kept him from 
 confessing. Later on, she also began to be disturbed, for 
 while such unavoidable obstacles as her father and brother 
 stood in the way, especially, before Azya had been ennobled, 
 he might open his heart to her; and the more obstacles that 
 were coming between them, the more quickly and frankly 
 should he do so, 
 
300 jP^A T MICHAEL. 
 
 But he kept silence. 
 
 At last doubt crept into the heart of the maiden, and she 
 began to bewail her misfortune to Basia, who comforted 
 her by sajdng: 
 
 "I can't deny that he is a strange fellow, and extremely 
 reticent, but I am sure that he is in love with you, because 
 he has often told me so, and moreover he does not look at 
 you as he looks at others." 
 
 To this, Evka gloomily replied, as she shook her head, 
 "Differently, it is certain; but whether that gaze is full of 
 love or hatred, I cannot decide." 
 
 "Eva, dear, don't talk so foolishly, what reason has he 
 to hate you." 
 
 "But what reason has he to love me?" 
 
 Here Basia would stroke Eva's face, "But why does 
 Michael love me, and why did your brother fall in love with 
 Zosia, almost before he had seen her?" 
 
 "Adam was always precipitate." 
 
 "Azya is proud, and dreads a refusal, especially from your 
 father; as your brother has been in love himself, he would 
 more quickly comprehend the agony of that feeling. That's 
 how it is. Don't be foolish Evka, and have no fear. I will 
 prompt Azya, and you will see with what resolution he will 
 come forward." In fact, Basia had a talk with Azya, that 
 very day and immediately afterwards she hurried in to Eva. 
 
 "It's all settled," she cried, as she entered. 
 
 "What is?" cried Eva, blushing. 
 
 "I said to him, what are you thinking of, to treat me so 
 ungratefully. I have kept Eva here on purpose that you 
 might take advantage of the opportunity, but if you don't, 
 you must know that in two weeks, or in three at the furthest, 
 I shall send her Eashkov. I may go with her myself, and 
 then you will be out of it. His face altered, when he heard 
 of the journey to Rashkov, and he began to bow his head 
 to the ground before me. I then asked him what he in- 
 tended to do, and he answered 'I will confess what is in my 
 heart on the way. Along the way,' he said, 'will be the best 
 opportunity, along the way what is to hapepn, will happen, 
 and what is foreordained. I will confess everything, I will 
 reveal everything, for I cannot live any longer in this tor- 
 ment/ His lips began to quiver in his anguish because he 
 has received some troublesome letters from Kamenets. He 
 told me that, in any case he must go to Rashkov, that my 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 301 
 
 husband has already had instructions from the Hetman re- 
 garding that affair; but the order did not mention any date, 
 as it depends on some negotiations in which he is engaged 
 with the leaders. 'But now/ he said, 'the time approaches, 
 and I must go to them on the other side of Rashkov, and 
 therefore I can escort your ladyship and Panna Eva at the 
 same time.' In reply, I told him that it was uncertain 
 whether I should go or not, as it depended on Michael's con- 
 sent. He was greatly disturbed when he heard that. Oh, 
 you are a fool, Evka, you say that he doesn't love you, but 
 he fell at my feet and when he besought me to go also, I 
 assure you, he absolutely wailed, so that I almost shed tears 
 over him. Do you know why that was? He told me once 
 'I will confess what is in my heart, but unless I have the 
 pi dyers of your ladyship, I shall not be able to do anything 
 with the Novovyeyskis. I shall only excite rage and enmity 
 in them and in myself. My lot, my suffering, and my salva- 
 tion are in your ladyship's hands, for if your ladyship will 
 not go, then it were better for me that the earth would 
 swallow me or burning flames consume me/ That's how 
 he loves you. It's awful to think about. And if you only 
 could have seen how he looked at that moment, you would 
 have been terrified." 
 
 "No, I do not fear him," Evka replied, as she kissed 
 Basia's hands. 
 
 "Go along with us, go along with us," she repeated, with 
 emotion, "do go, only you can save us, only you, will not be 
 afraid to tell my father, only you can do anything, go with 
 us, I will fall at Pan Michael's feet and obtain permission 
 for you. Without you, my father and Azya will spring at 
 each other with their knives. Go with us, do go/ ' 
 
 Then she fell down again before Basia and began to em- 
 brace her knees, watering them with her tears. 
 
 "God grant that I may go," Basia answered. a l will lay 
 everything before Michael, and will not cease to tease him. 
 It's quite safe now to go alone even. How much more with 
 such a large escort. Perhaps Michael will go himself, and if 
 not, he is not heartless, and will give me permission; he 
 will object at first, but only let me become miserable, and 
 he will imemdiately begin to hover about me, and look into 
 my eyes, and give in. I would rather have him go, more- 
 over,, because I should be dreadfully lonely without him. But 
 what is to be done. I will go with you, anyhow, and give 
 
3 02 MICHAEL. 
 
 you some comfort. In this case, there is no question of my 
 own wishes, but of the fate of both of you. Michael loves 
 you and Azya. . . he will agree." 
 
 After that talk with Basia, Azya flew to his own room, 
 as full of pleasure and exhultation as if he had recovered 
 sudden health after a dangerous illness. 
 
 A moment before his soul had been torn with wild despair; 
 at that moment he received a short and dry letter from Pan 
 Bogush, which ran as follows: 
 
 "My dear Azya: I have stopped at Kamenets and will 
 not go to Khreptyov now; in the first place, because I am 
 wearied out, and in tihe second, because there is no reason why 
 I should. I have been to Yavorov. The Hetman not only 
 refuses to give you the written authority to throw his dignity 
 over your wild plans, but he strictly ordered you on pain }f 
 forfeiting his favor to desist immediately. I also have re- 
 flected on what you said to me, and find it worthless. It 
 would be a sin for an educated Christian people to enter into 
 such schemes with Infidels, and we should be dishonored 
 in the face of the whole world if we granted the privileges 
 of nobility to criminals, marauders, and shedders of inno- 
 cent blood. Curb yourself in this affair, and do not think 
 of the rank of hetman as it is not for you, even though you 
 are the son of Tughay Bey. But if you want to quickly re- 
 cover the Hetman's good will, be satisfied with your present 
 position, and, more particularly, hasten the matter with Kry- 
 chinski, Tarasovski, Adurovich, and the others, for in this 
 way, you will be rendering the greatest service. 
 
 "I enclose the Hetman's instructions for your future move- 
 ments and an official order for Pan Volodiyovski, so that 
 there may be no obstacles to your going out and coming in 
 with your men. Of course, you wouldn't have to go sud- 
 denly; you will hold a meeting with those leaders; only be 
 quick and send me a full report to Kamenets of what you 
 have learned on the opposite bank. Commending you to 
 God's favor, I remain, ever with good wishes, 
 
 MAETISAN" BOGUSH, of Zyemblyts, 
 
 Podstolik of Novgorod." 
 
 On receipt of this letter, the young Tartar broke out into 
 awful rage. First he tore it up into little pieces, and then 
 stabbed the table with his knife again and again; then he 
 threatened to take his own life and that of the devoted 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Ilalun, who fell on his knees and prayed him to take no 
 ?M'ious step until his fury and despair had somewhat abated. 
 Tliis letter was a cruel blow to him. The castles raised by his 
 pride and ambition were all blown up as if by powder, and 
 his plans were destroyed. He might have become the third 
 Iletman of the Commonwealth, and held its destinies in the 
 hollow of his hand; but now, he learns that he is to remain 
 an insignificant officer, the height of whose ambition is a 
 patent of nobility. In his glowing visions, he had seen 
 crowds bowing down before him daily, and now he will 
 have to bow down before others. There is no advantage 
 for him either in being the son of Tukhay Bey, or having 
 the blood of warrior rulers running in his veins, or having 
 great thoughts in his mind it is nothing, all for nothing. 
 He will live without recognition and die forgotten in some 
 petty distant military post. His wing is broken by one 
 word. One "no" has determined that henceforth he shall 
 not be free to soar to the skies like an eagle, but that he 
 must crawl on the earth like a worm. 
 
 But all this even is as nothing compared with the happi- 
 ness which he has lost. She, for whose possession he would 
 gladly have resigned life and eternity; she, for whom his 
 heart was burning like flame, she, whom he loved with eyes, 
 heart, soul, and blood, will never be his. This letter has de- 
 prived him of her, in addition to a Hetman's baton. Kmy- 
 elnitski might carry off the wife of Chaplinski; Azya as a 
 Iletman, might carry off the wife of another man, and defend 
 himself against the whole Commonwealth even, but how 
 could Azya take her, when he was only a lieutenant of Lip- 
 kov Tartars, serving under her husband's command. 
 
 As he thought of all this, the world grew dark before his 
 eyes, and empty, and full of gloom, and the son of Tukhay 
 Bey thought that it would be better for him to die than 
 to live on without any object in life, without happiness, or 
 hope of having the woman he loved. This bore the more 
 heavily upon him, because he had not expected such a blow, 
 indeed, considering the Commonwealth's extremity, he had 
 satisfied himself, more surely day by day that the Hetman 
 would authorize his intentions. Now he saw his hopes blown 
 away like mist before the wind. What was left for him? 
 To give up all thought of glory and greatness and happiness; 
 but he was not the man to do that. In the first few moments, 
 he was swept away by the madness of rage and despair. He 
 
304 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 was consumed with fire and burning with anguish, and he 
 howled and gnashed his teeth and fierce and revengeful 
 thoughts engrossed his mind. He panted for revenge on the 
 Commonwealth, the Hetman, Pan Michael, and, even, Ba- 
 sia. He wanted to call together his Lipkov Tartars and 
 slaughter the garrison, and the officers, and Khreptyov entire, 
 slay Pan Michael, and abduct Bashka, carrying her across the 
 Moldavian border, down to the Dobrudja, and to Tsarograd 
 itself, and even to the Asian deserts. 
 
 But the faithful Halim attended him, and when he had 
 got over his first rage and despair, he himself recognized the 
 futility of all those designs. In this also Azya was like 
 Khmyelnitski, for, as in the latter, in him also the lion and 
 the serpent had their abode side by side. What would be the 
 result; if he were to attack Khreptyov with his faithful Lip- 
 kovs? Would Pan Michael, who was as vigilant as a crane, 
 allow himself to be taken by surprise; and even if so, would 
 that celebrated warrior allow himself to be slain, more es- 
 pecially as the soldiers who were with him were more nu- 
 merous and better fighters? Finally, even if Azya were to 
 put an end to Pan Michael, what could he do then? If he 
 were to go along the river towards Yahorlik, he would have 
 to wipe out the posts at Mohilov, Yampol and Rashkov; if 
 lie were to cross to the Moldavian bank, there were the per- 
 kulabs, Pan Michael's friends, and Habareskul of Khotsim 
 himself, his sworn brother. If he were to go to Doroshenko, 
 there were Polish posts at Bratslav; and even in the winter, 
 the steppes were full of scouting parties. Considering all 
 this, Tukhay Bey's son felt his powerlessness, and his malig- 
 nant heart first spurted forth flames and then hid itself in 
 the deepest despair, just as a wounded wild animal creeps 
 into a dark open cave and keeps still. 
 
 And as excessive pain is its own destruction and at last 
 sinks into torpor, so at length, torpor finally took possession 
 i of him. 
 
 It was just at that moment that they told him that the 
 Colonel's wife wanted to speak to him. 
 
 When Azya returned from the interview, Halim scarcely 
 recognized him. The Tartar's face had lost its expression 
 of callous despair: his eyes glittered like a wild cat, his face 
 was radiant and his white teeth gleamed under his mous- 
 tache; in his savage beauty he resembled the terrible Tukhay 
 Bey. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 305 
 
 "Master," asked Halim, "what comfort has God granted 
 thy spirit?" 
 
 Azya answered: 
 
 "Halim, God creates the bright day after the dark night 
 and commands the sun to rise out of the sea" (here he 
 grasped the old Tartar by the shoulders). "In a month she 
 will be mine forever." 
 
 And such light spread over his dark face as made it ab- 
 solutely beautiful, and Halim bowed before him. 
 
 "Oh, son of Tukhay Bey, thou art great and mighty, and 
 the hatred of the unbelievers cannot harm thee." 
 
 "Listen," cried Azya. 
 
 "I am listening, son of Tukhay Bey." 
 
 "I will go beyond the blue sea, where the snows only lie 
 on the tops of the mountains, and, if I return to this land, 
 it will be at head of chambuls in number like the sands 
 of the sea and the leaves in these wildernesses, and I will 
 bring fire and sword with me. But thou, Halim, the son of 
 Kurbluk, will set out to-day and find Krychinski, and tell 
 him to come quickly with his men to the bank opposite to 
 Eashkov. And tell Adurovich, Moravski, Aleksandrovich, 
 Grokholski, Tvorkovski with every living man of the Lipkov 
 and Cheremis Tartars to warn the troops. Let them give 
 orders to the chambuls in winter quarters with Doroshenko 
 to create disturbances on the Uman side, in order that the 
 Polish forces may be lured deep into the steppes from Mo- 
 hilov, Yampol, and Rashkov. Let no forces be left along 
 the way by which I pass so that when at last I leave Rashkov 
 behind me, there will be nothing but ashes and smoking 
 ruins." 
 
 "God help thee, my master," replied Halim. 
 
 And he bowed again and again, and the son of Tukhay 
 Bey leaned over him and repeated many times. 
 
 "Hasten the messengers, hasten the messengers, for there 
 is only a month left." 
 
 Then he dismissed Halim, and when he was alone, he 
 began to pray, for his heart was full of happiness and grati- 
 tude to God. 
 
 And as he was praying, he glanced involuntarily through 
 the window at his Lipkovs who were just leading their horses 
 to the wells for water and the square was black with the 
 throng. The Lipkovs, singing their monotonous songs in low 
 tones, began to draw up the buckets and fill the troughs with 
 20 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 water. Two columns of steam were issuing from the nos- 
 trils of each, horse and obscuring its head. Suddenly Pan 
 Michael issued from the main building in sheepskin coat and 
 cow hide boots,, and approaching his men, began to speak 
 to them. They listened to him, holding themselves erect and 
 removing their caps which was against the custom of Ori- 
 entals. When he saw him, Azya supended his prayer and 
 muttered, 
 
 "You are a falcon, but you won't fly where I shall, you 
 will remain behind at Khreptyov in sorrow and pain/' 
 
 After speaking to the soldiers, Pan Michael re-entered the 
 building, and the songs of the Lipkovs, the snorting of the 
 horses, and the shrill plaintive creaking of the wells were 
 heard again in the square. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 As Basia had foreseen, the little knight immediately op- 
 posed her plans when he became acquainted with them, and 
 said he would never consent because he could not go himself 
 and would not let her go without him; but from every quarter 
 he was then besieged with persistent entreaties, which soon 
 bent his will. 
 
 Basia did not insist as much as he expected, because she 
 was very anxious to be with her husband, and the journey lost 
 half its charm without him; but Evka knelt down before the 
 little knight, and kissed his hands and besought him, by the 
 love he bore for Basia, to allow her to go. 
 
 "No one else would dare to approach my father on such a 
 matter, nor I, nor Azya, nor even my brother. Only Basia 
 can do that, for he cannot refuse her anything." 
 
 Pan Michael replied: 
 
 "Basia does not occupy herself with matchmaking, and 
 besides, you have to come back here, so let her do it on your 
 return." 
 
 "God only knows what may happen, before we return," 
 Evka replied with tears, "the only thing certain is, that I 
 shall die of grief, though for an orphan like me whom no one 
 pities, death is the best thing." 
 
 The little knight had an excessively tender heart, and so 
 he began to strand up and down the room. Above everything, 
 he did not want to part with his Basia, even for a day, 
 much less for two weeks. However, it was evident that he 
 was greatly moved at these prayers, for a night or two after- 
 wards, he said: 
 
 "If I could only accompany you! But that is impossible, 
 for duty prevents." 
 
 Basia sprang to his side, and putting her rosy mouth 
 against his cheek, began to beg: 
 
 "Go Michael, dear, do go, do go." 
 
 "It is absolutely impossible," Pan Michael answered de- 
 cisively. 
 
 (307) 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 Two more days went by. In the interval, the little knight 
 asked Zagloba's advice as to what he ought to do, but Zagloba 
 refused to counsel him. 
 
 "If the only obstacles are your own feelings/' he said, "I 
 have nothing to say. Decide for yourself. The place will be 
 lonely here without the little haiduk. . If it weren't for my 
 years and the trying road, I would go myself, for there is no 
 living without her/' 
 
 "But you see there really are no obstacles, it is rather 
 frosty weather, but that is all; as for the rest, everything is 
 quiet and all along the road there are military posts/' 
 
 "In that case, decide for yourself." 
 
 After this conversation, Pan Michael began to waver and 
 ponder over two things. He w r as sorry for Evka. He also 
 hesitated whether it was wise to send the girl alone with Azya 
 on such a long journey, and also whether it was right to 
 refuse to help people who are devoted to you when it is so 
 easy to do so. After all, what was the real objection. Only 
 Basia's being away for two or three weeks. Even if it were 
 only for the sake of pleasing Basia by letting her see 
 Mohilov, Yampol, and Rashkov, why shouldn't she be in- 
 dulged? In any case, Azya would have to go with his com- 
 pany to Rashkov, and this would provide an escort more than 
 sufficient considering the late destruction of the marauders 
 and the quietness of the Horde during the winter. 
 
 The little knight grew more and more yielding, and when 
 they saw it, the ladies renewed their importunities, one de- 
 claring that it was -a matter of kindness and duty, and the 
 other, uttering cries and lamentations. At last Azya came 
 and bowed before the crowd. He said that he was quite aware 
 of his unworthiness of such a favor, but that he had exhibited 
 so much affection and devotion to the Volodiyovskis, that he 
 ventured to make this petition. He owed a debt of gratitude 
 to both, because they had not allowed him to be insulted, 
 even before he was known to be the son of Tukhay Bey. 
 
 He could never forget that the colonel's wife had dressed 
 his wounds and had not only behaved to him like a gracious 
 mistress, but like a mother. He had lately proved his grati- 
 tude in the fight with Azba Bey, and, if God willed, in the 
 future, he would lay down his life, and shed his last drop of 
 blood for the life of a lady if it were necessary. 
 
 He then began to speak of his ancient and ill-starred love 
 for Evka. He could not live without her, he had continued to 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 309 
 
 love her through long years of absence, though he was without 
 hope, and it would never cease. But there was an old ani- 
 mosity between him and Pan Novovyeyski, and their former 
 relations as master and servant formed, as it were, a wide 
 chasm between them. Only the lady could reconcile them, 
 and if she did not succeed in that, at least, she could protect 
 the dear girl from the tyranny, and confinement, and blows 
 of her father. 
 
 Yolodiyovski, who would, doubtless, have rather had 
 Basia not interfere in the matter, but, as he himself was 
 fond of doing kindnesses for people, he was not surprised at 
 his wife's good heart. However, he did not yet give Azya an 
 affirmative reply, and even steeled himself against Evka's 
 incessant tears. But he shut himself up in his office and 
 began to meditate. 
 
 Finally one evening, he came in to supper with a pleasant 
 face, and when it was ended, he suddenly said to Azya: 
 
 "Azya, when must you start?" 
 
 "In a week, your lordship," replied the Tartar, with secret 
 anxiety. "By that time, Halim will surely have brought the 
 negotiations with Krychinski to a conclusion." 
 
 "Order the big sleigh to be repaired, because we will have 
 to take two ladies to Rashkov." 
 
 On hearing this, Basia clapped her hands and darted to 
 her husband's side. Evka quickly followed her, and then 
 Azya bowed himself ait the little knight's knees in such rap- 
 ture that the little knight had to disengage himself. 
 
 "Let me alone," he said, "but what's the matter? When 
 it's possible, to help anybody, it's difficult not to do so unless 
 the man is entirely hardened. And I am not a tyrant. But 
 Basia, my beloved, you must come back soon, and Azya, 
 you must guard her faithfully, for, in that manner, you will 
 best show your gratitude. Come, come, leave me alone." 
 
 Here his lips began to quiver, and then he said more 
 jovially, to keep up his spirits: 
 
 "Women's tears are the worst things to endure. I am quite 
 overcome at the sight of them. But Azya, you have not only 
 me and my wife, but this lady who has followed you about 
 like a shadow, constantly keeping her grief before my eyes. 
 You must repay her for such devotion." 
 
 "I will repay her, T will repay her," cried Azya in peculiar 
 tones, and, grasping Kvka's hands, he kissed them so wildly, 
 that it looked rather as if he wanted to bite them. 
 
3IO PAti MICHAEL. 
 
 "Michael," suddenly cried Zagloba, pointing to Basia, 
 "what shall we do here without this kitten?" 
 
 "It will be dreadful, said the little knight, "by God it will 
 indeed be dreadful." 
 
 Then he added with more composure: 
 
 "But the Lord God may bless this good action later. . . , 
 Do you understand?" 
 
 In the meantime, the little kitten poked her little in j 
 quisitive shining head in between them. 
 
 "What are you saying?" 
 
 "Nothing," replied Zagloba, "we were only saying that the 
 storks would certainly come in the Spring." 
 
 Basia began to rub her face against her husband, as if she 
 were a cat indeed. 
 
 "Michael, dear, I shall not stay away long," she said in a 
 low tone. 
 
 After this talk they held counsel about the journey for 
 several days. Pan Michael saw to everything himself, and 
 ordered the sleigh to be got ready in his presence and lined 
 with skins of foxes killed in the autumn. Zagloba brought his 
 own fur robe to cover her feet on the way. There were to be 
 sleighs with a bed and provisions, and Basra's pony was to 
 go along, too, so that she might leave the sleigh at dangerous 
 spots, because Pan Michael was particularly nervous about the 
 approach of Mohilov, which was indeed a precipitous descent. 
 Though there was not the least danger of an attack, the little 
 knight ordered Azya to take every precaution, to have men 
 always a quarter of a mile in advance, and never spend a night 
 on the road, except at places where soldiers were posted, and 
 to start ait dawn and not linger on the way." 
 
 The little knight thought of everything to the smallest 
 detail, so that with his own hand, he loaded Basia's pistols 
 for the holsters in her saddle. 
 
 At last came the moment of departure. It was not yet 
 light, when two hundred of the Lipkov Tartar cavalry was 
 standing ready in the square. There was bustle in the chief 
 room of the commander's house. Bright flames were leaping 
 from the pine logs on the hearths. The little knight. Pan 
 Zagloba, Mushalski, Nyenashinyets, Khromyka, and Motov- 
 idlo, accompanied by the officers of the Light Companies, had 
 come to take leave. Basia and Evka, still warm and flushed 
 with sleep, were sipping hot wine before starting. Pan 
 Michael was sitting by his wife, with his arms around her 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 311 
 
 waist, while Zagloba was pouring out for her, crying every 
 time he did so, "Have some more, for its frosty weather." 
 Bashka and Evka were wearing male garments, for that was 
 the way women travel on the frontier. Basia had a sabre, 
 a shuba of wild-catskin edged with weasel, and an ermine cap 
 with earlaps, very wide trousers which looked like a skirt, and 
 soft lined boots as high as her knees. In addition to this, 
 they had warm cloaks and shubas with hoods to cover their 
 faces. Basia's face was not covered as yet, and its beauty 
 astonished the soldiers as always. Some of them, neverthe- 
 less, looked with approval at Evka, whose mouth seemed made 
 for kisses, and others scarcely knew which to choose, so 
 charming did they both appear to the soldiers, who whispered 
 to each other: 
 
 "It's hard for a man to live in such a desert. Happy Colo- 
 nel! happy Azya! ah!" 
 
 The flames crackled joyously on the hearths and the cocks 
 began to crow. Day was gradually dawning, clear and frosty. 
 The roofs of the shed and the soldiers' quarters, thickly coated 
 with snow, assumed a bright rose tint. 
 
 Outside in the square could be heard the snorting of the 
 horses and the crunching footsteps of the soldiers and dra- 
 goons who had gathered together from their various quarters 
 to say good bye to Basia and the Tartars. 
 
 At last Pan Michael said, "It is time." 
 
 As she heard it, Basia sprang up and cast herself into the 
 arms of her husband. He pressed his lips to hers and held 
 her to his heart with all his might, kissing her eyes and brow 
 and lips again. *It was a long minute, for 'they dearly loved 
 each other. 
 
 After the little knight it was Zagloba's turn, and then, 
 the other officers came to kiss her hand, and she cried in her 
 childish silver ringing tones: 
 
 "Good health to you all, gentlemen, good health to you all." 
 
 Then she and Eva put on their mantles with slits for 
 sleeves, and then their hooded shubas till they both entirely 
 disappeared under the robes. The wide door was thrown 
 open, and a frosty vapor blew in, and immediately the whole 
 company found itself in the square. Outside, everything was 
 momentarily becoming more distinct from the increasing light 
 on the snow. The horses' ma.nes and the men's sheep-skin 
 coats were covered with hoar-frost; it looked as if the entire 
 squadron were dressed in white and mounted on white horses. 
 
312 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Bashka and Evka took their seats in the fur lined sleigh. 
 The dragoons and postilions oi' the companies shouted good 
 wishes for a pleasant journey for the travellers. 
 
 At the noise a great flock of crows and ravens which had 
 been driven to the vicinity of human habitation by the severe 
 winter flew up from the roofs and began to croak as they 
 circled in the rosy dawn. 
 
 The little knight leaned over the sleigh and hid his face 
 in the hood that covered his wife's face. 
 
 That moment seemed eternal. Finally he tore himself away 
 from Basia, and exclaimed, as he made the sign of the cross: 
 
 "In the name of God." 
 
 Azya then rose in his stirrups with his wild face shining 
 with exultation and the light of dawn. He waved his staff 
 till his burka rose like the wings oi a bird of prey, and cried 
 in shrill tones: 
 
 "Forward!" 
 
 The hoofs crunched hi the snow and clouds of steam issued 
 from the horses' nostrils. The first rank of the Lipkovs 
 slowly advanced; and then came the second, third, and fourth; 
 and, next, the sleigh; then the ranks of a whole company 
 began to move across the sloping square to the gate. 
 
 The little knight blessed them with the Holy Cross, and, 
 at last, when the sleigh had passed through the gate, he raised 
 his hands to his lips and shouted, "Farewell, Basia!*' 
 
 But Iris only answer came from the firing of the muskets, 
 and the loud cawing of blackbirds. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 About a dozen Cheremis marched some miles in advance 
 to examine the road and inform commanders of the approach 
 of Pani Volodiyovski so as to have quarters ready for her 
 everywhere. Then came the main body of the Lipkovs with 
 Basia and Evka in one sleigh and their maids in the other, 
 and a smaller body brought up the rear. Snowdrifts made 
 the road heavy. Pine forests which retain their needles even 
 in winter do not allow much snow to fall on the ground, but 
 that trackless forest along the banks of the Dniester, which 
 was composed principally of oaks and other deciduous trees, 
 now stripped of their natural covering, was heaped half-way 
 up the trunks with snow. The hollows were also filled -with 
 snow; in some places it had been heaped into waves of the sea 
 whose curling crests looked as if about to fall and break on 
 the white plain. On crossing difficult ravines and slopes the 
 Lipkovs steadied the sleighs with ropes and only on the high 
 plains where the wind had levelled the crust of the snow did 
 they drive fast in the track of the caravan which had started 
 earlier from Khreptyov with Naviragh and the two learned 
 Anardrats. 
 
 It was hard travelling, though not so hard as it is some- 
 times in those trackless wilds, full of chasms, rivers, streams, 
 and ravines. They were consequently glad that before night- 
 fall they would be able to reach the precipitoiis valley at the 
 bottom of which Mohilov was situated and moreover that 
 tftere was a prospect of fine weather. After a rosy dawn the 
 sun rose and the plains, ravines, and wilderness were sud- 
 denly illumined brightly; sparks seemed to cover the branches 
 of the trees and the snow sparkled till its dazzle made the eyes 
 ache. Through openings on high places views could be 
 gained as through windows in the wilds and the eye could see 
 as far as Moldavia till it was lost on the white and blue 
 horizon flooded with light. 
 
 The air was dry and keen. In that atmosphere men feel 
 health and strength as well as animals; in the ranks the 
 
 (3i5) 
 
31 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 horsos were constantly snorting and columns of steam issued 
 from their nostrils; and the Lipkovs were singing jovial songs, 
 although the frost was nipping their legs so that they kept 
 drawing them up under the skirts of their coats. 
 
 At last the sun reached its meridian and gave a little 
 warmth to the world. It became too hot for Basia and Evka 
 among the furs in the sleigh. They untied their head-cover- 
 ings, threw back their hoods, exposed their rosy faces to the 
 light, and began to look about them, Basia at her surround- 
 ings, and Evka seeking Azya who was not near the sleigh but 
 riding in front with the Cheremis who were reconnoitering 
 the way and clearing away the snow when it was needed. 
 Evka's face clouded at this, but Basia who was thoroughly 
 posted on military matters said, to comfort her: 
 
 "They are all like that: duty is duty. My little Michael 
 will not even look at me when he has any military matters to 
 attend to; and it would be ill if it were not so because if you 
 must love a soldier let him be a good one." 
 
 "But will he be with us at the baiting-place?" asked Evka. 
 
 "Take care that you don't get too much of him! Didn't 
 you see how happy he was when we started? His face 
 seemed to be flaming." 
 
 "I saw that he was very glad." 
 
 "But what will he be when he obtains your father's con- 
 sent?" 
 
 "Ah! what is in store for me? God's will be done! But 
 my heart dies in me when I think of father. If he should 
 rage, or become obstinate and refuse his consent, my life will 
 be a troubled one when I get home." 
 
 "Evka, do you know what I think?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Azya is not to be played with. Your brother might op- 
 pose with force, but your father has no power. I think that 
 if your father opposes Azya will take you anyhow." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Why, by running away with you. They say he is not to 
 be trifled with. . . Tukhay Bey's blood! Elsewhere banns, 
 certificates and licenses would be requivsite, but this is a wild 
 region and matters are carried on somewhat after the Tartar 
 fashion." 
 
 Evka's face lighted up. 
 
 "That is what I fear. Azya is capable of anything; that is 
 what I fear!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 317 
 
 But Basia turned her head and gave her a swift glance and 
 suddenly burst into her girlish ringing laugh. 
 
 "You fear it just as a mouse fears bacon. Oh, I know you!" 
 
 Kvka, already rosy with the sharp air now flushed a deeper 
 red, and answered: 
 
 "I should dread my father's curse, and I know that Azya is 
 capable of disregarding everything." 
 
 "Keep up your courage, you will have your brother as well 
 as me to help you. True love always comes by its own. Pan 
 Zagloba said that to me before Michael even thought of me." 
 
 Having once begun to chatter they now vied with each 
 flther in talking, one about Azya and the other about Michael. 
 AL couple of hours passed in this way till the caravan halted 
 for the first bait at Yaryshov. Of this little town, which had 
 always been miserable, the peasant incursion had left only 
 one inn, which had been restored immediately that the pass- 
 ing of the military gave assurance of profit. Here Basia and 
 Evka found a passing Armenian merchant, a native of Mo- 
 hilov who was taking saffian to Kamenets. 
 
 Azya wanted to throw him out into the yard with the Wal- 
 lachians and Tartars who accompanied him, but the ladies 
 allowed him to stay and his guard only had to go. When the 
 merchant discovered that the traveller was Pani Volodiyovski 
 he began to bow his head to the earth and praise her husband 
 to the skies, and she listened to him with great pleasure. 
 
 Presently he went to his bales and on his return offered her 
 a package of choice sweetmeats and a little box filled with 
 sweet-scented Turkish herbs, good for various complaints. 
 
 "I bring this in gratitude," he said. "Hitherto we have 
 not dared to show our faces outside Mohilov because of Azba 
 Bey's terrible raids and because so many robbers infested the 
 ravines on this side and the fields on the other side; but now 
 the roads are safe again and so is trade. Now we can again 
 travel. May God multiply the days of the commander at 
 Khreptyov and make every day long enough for a journey 
 from Mohilov to Kamenets and may every hour be length- 
 ened to seem like a day! Our commander, the Field-Secretary, 
 prefers to dwell in Warsaw; but the commander kept watch 
 and swept out the robbers so that now they would rather face 
 death than the Dniester. 
 
 "Then isn't Pan Jeruski in Mohilov?" asked Basia. 
 
 "He merely brought the soldiers and I doubt if he stayed 
 three days. Allow me, your ladyship, there are raisins in 
 
^i8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 this package and in this corner of it snc-li fruit, as is not to IK; 
 found in Turkey, it comes from far Asia and grows there on 
 palms. . . The Secretary is not in the town and now there is 
 no cavalry at all, for yesterday they went suddenly in the di- 
 rection of Bratslav. . . But here are dates; may fhey do you? 
 ladyship good! . . . Only Pan Gorzenski is left with the in- 
 fantry and the cavalry are all gone. . . " 
 
 ''I am surprised to hear that all the cavalry are gone!" said 
 Basia with an inquiring glance at Azya. 
 
 "They went to keep the horses in condition," the son of 
 Tukhay Bey answered calmly. 
 
 "In the town it is reported that Dorosh unexpectedly ad- 
 vanced," said the merchant. 
 
 Azya laughed. 
 
 "But how will he feed his horses, with snow?" he asked 
 Basia. 
 
 "Pan Gorzenski can best tell your ladyship about it," added 
 the merchant. 
 
 "I don't believe there's anything in it," said Basia. after a 
 moment's thought, "for in that case my husband would be 
 the first to know." 
 
 "Doubtless the news would reach Khreptyov first," said 
 Azya, "let not your ladyship be afraid." 
 
 Basia lifted her bright face to the Tartar and her nostrils 
 dilated. 
 
 "I, afraid! That's an excellent idea of yours! Do you hear 
 that Evka? I, afraid!" 
 
 Evka could not reply, for being very fond of dainties and 
 having an inordinate love of sweets, her mouth was full of 
 dates, but that did not prevent her from gazing expressively 
 at Azya and when she had swallowed the fruit she said : 
 
 "Even I am not afraid, with such an officer!" 
 
 Then she gazed meaningly into the eyes of the young Tuk- 
 hay Bey; but from the moment when she had become a 
 stumbling-block in his path he had felt for her nothing but 
 hidden aversion and rage. He therefore stood motionless 
 without raising his eyes: 
 
 "In Rashkov it will appear whether I am worthy of confi- 
 dence or no." 
 
 And there was something in his tones that was almost ter- 
 rible but, as the two girls were accustomed to the young Li- 
 pek's words and ways being different to those of all other men, 
 it did not attract their atteiatkm, Azva then insisted that 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 they should proceed immediately, because the mountains 
 around Mohilov were difficult to cross and the passage ought 
 to be made during daylight. 
 They started at once. 
 
 They travelled quickly till they reached the mountains. 
 Basia wanted to mount her horse, but at the persuasion of the 
 eon of Tukhay Bey she remained in the sleigh with Evka 
 while it was steadied with ropes and carefully lowered from 
 the heights. Azya walked beside the sleigh the whole time 
 but scarcely spoke a word either to Basia or Evka, but oc- 
 cupied himself with their safety and with giving orders. 
 However the sun set before they had succeeded in crossing 
 the mountains, but the advanced party of Cheremis made 
 fires of dry branches. Then they descended among the glow- 
 ing fires and the wild figures standing about them. Be- 
 yond these figures were visible in the gloom of the evening 
 and the half-light produced by the flames, the frowning rocks 
 in vague, terrible outlines. All this was new and strange and 
 it all seemed like some perilous and mysterious expedition 
 and therefore Basia's spirits were in the seventh heaven and 
 her heart was full of gratitude to her husband for permitting 
 her to take this journey to unknown parts, and to Azya for 
 managing the journey with such ability. Now for the first 
 time Basia understood the meaning of those military marches 
 and hardships of which she had so often heard the soldiers 
 speak, and what steep and winding roads really were. She 
 was seized with a mad joyousness. She would certainly have 
 mounted her pony had it not been that by sitting beside Evka 
 she could talk to and frighten her. So while going along a 
 narrow, sharp turn the advanced guard went out of sight and 
 began to shout with wild voices whose muffled echoes re- 
 sounded among the beetling crags, Basia turned to Evka and 
 cried as she grasped her hands: 
 
 "Oh! Robbers from the plains or the horde!" 
 But Evka was not at all alarmed when she remembered 
 Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey. 
 
 "The robbers and the horde honor and fear him/' she 
 answered. 
 
 And then she said as she leaned to Basia's ear: 
 "Even to Byalogrod, even to the Crimea, if only with him!'' 
 The moon had risen high in the sky when they issued from 
 the mountains. Then far below them as if at the foot of a 
 precipice they saw a clump of lights. 
 
MICHAL'L. 
 
 "Mohilov is at our feet!" said a voice behind Basia and 
 Evka. 
 
 They looked around; it was Azya standing behind the 
 sleigh. 
 
 But does the town lie like that at the bottom of the valley?" 
 Basia asked. 
 
 "It does. The mountains entirely protect it from winter 
 winds/' Azya answered, putting his head between theirs. 
 
 "Observe, your ladyship, that the climate is quite different 
 here; it is more still and warm. Spring arrives here ten days 
 earlier than on the other side of the mountains and the woods 
 put out their leaves sooner. That grey on the slope is a vine- 
 yard; but the ground is still covered with snow/' 
 
 Snow was lying everywhere but the air was really warmer 
 and calmer. As they slowly descended to the valley lights 
 appeared one by one and every moment became more nu- 
 merous. 
 
 "A respectable place, and quite large!" exclaimed Evka. 
 
 "That's on account of its not having been burned at the 
 peasant incursion. The Cossack troops had their winter 
 quarters here, and Lakhs have hardly ever visited the place." 
 
 "Who dwell here?" 
 
 "Tartars, who have their own wooden minaret; for in the 
 Commonwealth everyone is at liberty to profess his own faith. 
 Wallachians dwell here, and Armenians, and Greeks, also." 
 
 "I saw some Greeks once at Kamenets," rejoined Basia, 
 "for though they live so far away they go everywhere for 
 trade. 
 
 "This town is different from all others," said Azya, "many 
 people of various nations come here to traffic. That settle- 
 ment over there to one side is called Serby." 
 
 "We are already entering it," said Basia. 
 
 In fact they had arrived. They immediately noticed a 
 strange sour odor of skins. This was the odor of saffian in 
 the manufacture of which all the inhabitants were more or 
 less engaged, but the Armenians in particular. As Azya had 
 said it was quite different from ordinary places. The houses 
 were built in the Asiatic style and had windows covered with 
 thick wooden lattice; many of the houses had no windows to 
 the street and the glow of fires was visible only in the yards. 
 The streets were unpaved though there was plenty of stone in 
 the neighborhood. Here and there were buildings of strange 
 form with open walls of lattice-work; these were drying- 
 
PA2V MICHAEL. 32I 
 
 houses in which fresh grapes were transformed into raisins. 
 The odor of saffian pervaded the entire town. 
 
 Pan Gorzenski who commanded the infantry, was notified 
 by the Cheremis of the approach of the wife of the com- 
 mander of Khreptyov and rode out on horseback to meet her. 
 He was not young and he stammered; he also lisped because 
 his cheeks had been pierced by a bullet from a janissary gun; 
 and so when he began to speak (stammering each instant), of 
 the star "that had risen in the skies of Mohilov," Basia 
 nearly burst out laughing. But he received her as hospitably 
 as he knew how. In the citadel a supper was awaiting her, 
 and an exceedingly comfortable bed of fresh and clean down, 
 which he had requisitioned from the richest Armenians. 
 Although Pan Gorzenski stammered,, yet at supper in the 
 evening, he told of strange matters that were worth attention. 
 
 According to him a disturbing breeze suddenly and un- 
 expectedly had begun to blow from the steppes. 
 
 Intelligence arrived that a strong chambul.of the Crimean 
 horde in camp with Ddrosh had suddenly advanced towards 
 Haysyn and the district above and the chambul was ac- 
 companied by several thousand Cossacks. Moreover many 
 other disturbing rumors had come from various sources. To 
 these, however, Pan- Gorzenski did not give much credence. 
 
 "For it is winter," he said, "and since the Lord created this 
 round world the Tartars only move in the Spring; then they 
 form no camp and carry no baggage, nor any food for their 
 horses. We all know that war with the power of the Turk is 
 held in check by the frost alone, and that visitors will appear 
 with the first grass; but I shall never believe that there is 
 anything just now." 
 
 Basia waited long and patiently for Pan Gorzenski to 
 finish. In the meantime he stammered on and his lips 
 worked as if he were eating. 
 
 "What is your own opinion of the movement of the horde 
 towards Haysyn?" she asked aMast. 
 
 "I think that their horses have scraped all the grass out 
 from under the snow and that they are just moving camp. 
 Moreover it may be that the horde living by Dorosh's follow- 
 ers are at odds with them; that has always happened. 
 Although they are allies and are fighting side by side, just as 
 soon as they have adjoining encampments they immediately 
 fall out with one another in the pastures and bazaars." 
 
 "That is perfectly true," said Azya. 
 
"And there is another tiling," proc-mlrd Pan Gorzeiiski, 
 "the reports did not come dim-tly I'mm our own men but 
 were brought by peasants; the Tartars here were the first to 
 begin to talk about it. Three days ago Pan Yakubovich 
 brought in from the steppes the first tongues that confirmed 
 the rumors and all the cavalry immediately marched out." 
 
 "Then you have now only infantry with you?'' Azya asked. 
 
 "God have pity upon us! forty men! There is scarcely 
 anyone left to defend the citadel and if the Tartars who dwell 
 here in Mohilov were to rise I don't know how I should de- 
 fend myself." 
 
 "But why don't they rise against you?" asked Basia. 
 
 "They don't because they can't. Many of them have their 
 permanent abode in the Commonwealth with their wives and 
 children and are on our side. As for the rest they are here 
 for trade and not war; they are quiet people." 
 
 "I will leave your lordship fifty of my Lipkov horse," said 
 Azya. 
 
 "God reward you! You will be doing me a great service 
 for then I shall have some cavalry scouts. But can you leave 
 them?" 
 
 "I can. In Rashkov we shall have the forces of those 
 leaders who formerly went over to the Sultan and now want 
 to return to the service of the Commonwealth, Krychinski 
 will certainly come with three hundred horse and perhaps 
 Adurovich also will come; others will arrive later. I am to 
 assume the supreme command by the Hetman's orders, and 
 before the Spring there will be a whole division.*' 
 
 Pan Gorzenski bowed before Azya. He had known him 
 for a considerable time but had somewhat looked down upon 
 him as a man of dubious origin. But knowing now that he 
 was tbe son of Tukhay Bey, as this news had been brought by 
 the first caravan in which Naviragh was travelling, Gorzenski 
 honored in the young Lipkov Tartar, the blood of a great 
 though hostile warrior, and moreover he also paid him honor 
 as an officer who was entrusted with such important functions 
 by the Hetman. 
 
 Azya. departed to issue orders and calling the setnik, Da- 
 vid, he said: 
 
 "David, son of Skander, thou wilt remain in Mohilov with 
 fifty horse. Thou wilt see with thine eyes and hear with 
 thine ears what is happen ins: around thee. If the Little Fal- 
 con at Khreptyov sends letters to me thou wilt stop his raei- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 323 
 
 senger, take the letters from him, and send them by thine 
 own man. Thou wilt stay here until I send an order to re- 
 turn. If my messenger says, 'It is night/ thou wilt go out in 
 peace; but if he says, 'Day is near/ thou wilt burn the place, 
 pass over to the Moldavian side and go whither I command 
 thee." . . . 
 
 "Master, thou hast spoken," David replied; "I will see with 
 my eyes and hear with my ears, I will stop messengers from 
 the Little Falcon and when I have taken their letters I will 
 send them to thee by our own man. I will stay here till 
 orders arrive; and if thy messenger says to me 'It is night/ I 
 will go out in peace; if he says 'Day is near/ I will burn the 
 place and pass over to the Moldavian side and go whither the 
 order directs." 
 
 Early next morning the caravan diminished by fifty horse 
 continued the journey. Pan Gorzenski escorted Basia be- 
 yond the valley of Mohilov. Thence, after stammering forth 
 a farewell oration, he returned to Mohilov, and they hastened 
 on towards Yampol. Azya was in unusually high spirits and 
 Basia was surprised at the way in which he urged on his 
 men. 
 
 "Why are you so pressing?" she asked. 
 
 "Everyone hastens to happiness, and mine will commence 
 at Rashkov." 
 
 Eva taking this speech to herself, plucked up heart and 
 answered: 
 
 "But my father?" 
 
 "Pan Novovyeyski will not oppose me in anything," replied 
 the Tartar. 
 
 And sinister lightning flashed across his face. 
 
 They found hardly any troops at Yampol. There had 
 never been any infantry there and almost all the cavalry had 
 gone; barely a dozen were left in the little fort, or rather in 
 its ruins. . . . lodgings were prepared for Basia but she 
 slept badly for she had begun to get uneasy about these ru- 
 mors. She particularly dwelt on the thought of how dis- 
 turbed the little knight would be if it should prove that one 
 of Doroshenko's chambuls had really advanced; but she forti- 
 fied herself with the thought that it might not be true. She 
 wondered whether it would not be better to return taking a 
 body of Azya's soldiers for protection but various objections 
 immediately orcurrecl. In the first place Azya could only 
 spare a small guard as ho luul to increase the garrison of Rash- 
 
324 MICHAEL. 
 
 kov and in case of real peril that guard might not be suffici- 
 ent; and in the second they had already passed two-thirds of 
 the journey; in Rashkov there was an officer she knew, and 
 a strong garrison which, increased by the detachment of the 
 son of Tukhay Bey's son and by the following of the revolted 
 leaders would make quite a formidable force. Taking every- 
 thing into consideration Basia concluded to go on. 
 
 But she could not sleep. For the first time during the 
 journey she was seized with alarm as if some unknown danger 
 was hanging above her head. Perhaps this fear was partly 
 caused by lodging in Yampol for it was a terrible and sanguin- 
 ary spot; Basia knew that from the tales of her husband and 
 Pan Zagloba, In Khmyelnitski's time the main body of the 
 Podolian cut-throats under Burlay had been stationed here; 
 and captives had been brought and sold into the markets of 
 the East, or had suffered a cruel death; and here finally, in 
 the Spring of 1651 during a crowded fair, Pan Stanislav 
 Lantskoronski, Yoevoda of Bratslav, had burst in and done 
 frightful slaughter the memory of which was still fresh all 
 along the Dniester. 
 
 Therefore bloody memories hung everywhere over the en- 
 tire place and here and there were blackened ruins and from 
 the walls of the half-ruined little fort the pallid faces of 
 slaughtered Poles and Cossacks seemed to gaze. 
 
 Basia was bold but she was afraid of ghosts; it was said that 
 in Yampol itself, at the mouth of the Shumilovka and in the 
 adjacent rapids of the Dniester mighty groans and wails were 
 heard at midnight and that the water became red in the moon- 
 light as if tinged with blood. This thought filled Basia's 
 soul with painful dread. In spite of herself in the quiet night 
 she listened for groans and wailing amid the noises of the 
 rapids. She only heard the prolonged call "Czuwa-ay" of the 
 sentinels. Then she thought of the quiet room at Khreptyov, 
 her husband, Pan Zagloba, the friendly faces of Pan Nyena- 
 shinyets, Mushalski, Motovidlo, Snitko,and the others and for 
 the first time she felt that she was seized with such home- 
 sickness for Khreptyov that she felt inclined to weep. 
 
 She did not fall asleep till near morning and then she had 
 strange dreams. Burlay, the cut-throats, the Tartars, and 
 sanguinary scenes of massacre passed through her head in 
 procession and Azya's face was always present in these scenes, 
 not the Azya she knew, but a Cossack, a wild Tartar, or 
 Tukhay Bey himself in turn. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 325 
 
 She rose early, relieved that the night and the disagreeable 
 visions were at an end. She had determined to make the rest 
 of the journey on horseback, in the first place to enjoy the 
 exercise and in the second to afford an opportunity for Azya 
 and Evka to converse freely as the proximity of Rashkov of 
 course made it necessary for them to arrange some plan of 
 informing old Pan Novovyeyski of the state of affairs and re- 
 ceiving his consent. Azya held her stirrup with his own 
 hand but he did not take his seat in the sleigh with Evka, but 
 immediately went to the head of his followers and kept near 
 Basia. 
 
 She immediately noticed that again the cavalry's numbers 
 were reduced from what they had been when they arrived at 
 Yampol, so she turned to the young Tartar and said: 
 
 "I see that you have left some men behind at Yampol?" 
 
 "Fifty horse, just as at Mohilov," Azya replied. 
 
 "What was that for?" 
 
 He laughed strangely; his lips parted like those of a vicious 
 dog when he shows his teeth, and he paused before answer- 
 ing: 
 
 "I wanted to have those places in my power and to make 
 the homeward road for your ladyship safe." 
 
 "There will be enough troops there when they come back 
 from the steppes." 
 
 "They will not return so soon." 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 "They cannot, because they must first learn with certainty 
 what Dorosh is about, and that will take three or four weeks." 
 
 "In that case you did well to leave the men." 
 
 They rode on for a time in silence. Azya from time to 
 time glanced at Basia.'s rosy face half hidden by the raised 
 collar of her mantle and cap and after each glance he closed 
 his eyes as though trying to fix the charming picture more 
 firmly in his mind. 
 
 "You ought to go and have a talk with Evka," she con- 
 tinued, "you talk to her entirely too little and she doesn't 
 know what to think. You will soon be in Pan Novovyeyski's 
 presence; . . Even I am fearful. . . You and she ought to 
 consult and arrange how to begin." 
 
 "I should first like to have a talk with your ladyship," said 
 Azya in strange tones. 
 
 "Thou why not immediately?" 
 
 "T am awaiting a messenger from IJaslikov. . . I expected 
 to find him at Yampol. I look for him every moment." 
 
326 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "But what has a messenger to do with our conversation ?'" 
 
 "I think he is coming now!" said the young Tartar avoid- 
 ing a direct reply. 
 
 And he galloped forward hut presently returned and suid: 
 
 "No! it is not he." 
 
 There was something so restless in his actions, and speech 
 and voice and whole appearance that his restlessness com- 
 municated itself to Basia and still she had not yet the le*st 
 suspicion of anything wrong. Azya's agitation could be 
 satisfactorily accounted for by the proximity of Rashkov and 
 Evka's terrible father; and yet Basia had a feeling of oppres- 
 sion as if her own lot were at stake. 
 
 She approached the sleigh and for some hours rode by its 
 side near Evka talking to her about Rashkov and the old and 
 young Novovyeyski and Zosia Boski, and lastly of the country 
 they were passing through which was becoming wilder and 
 more terrible. Indeed in the immediate vicinity of Khrept- 
 yov it was a wilderness but at least there an occasional column 
 of smoke rose on the horizon some huts or some human dwell- 
 ing. Here there was no indication of man and if Basia had 
 not known that she going to Rashkov where people dwelt and 
 there was a Polish garrison the might have imagined that she 
 was being taken away into some unknown desert or into 
 strange lands at the edge of the world. 
 
 Gazing about her at the country she involuntarily checked 
 her horse and was soon left in the rear of the sleighs and 
 soldiers. Presently Azya joined her and as he was well 
 acquainted with the district he began to point out the various 
 places by name. 
 
 This did not last long however as the earth began to be 
 obscured as with smoke; evidently the winter Avas not so 
 severe in this southern district as in the woody Khreptyov. 
 It is true that some snow was lying in the hollows, on the cliffs 
 and the ledges of the rocks, as well as on the northern sides 
 of the hills; but for the most part the earth was not covered 
 and looked dark with woods or glistened with the long 
 withered grass. From this grass rose a light grey fog which, 
 spreading along the ground, filled the valleys and extended 
 across the plains; next it rose higher and higher till at length 
 it blotted out the sunshine and turned a bright day into a dark 
 and foggy one. 
 
 "It will rain to-morrow," said Azya. 
 
 "If not to-day. How far is it to' Rashkov?"/ 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 3 2 7 
 
 The son of Tukhay Bey looked at the nearest landmark 
 that was scarcely visible through the fog and said: 
 
 '"'From that point it is nearer to Rashkov than back to 
 Yampol." 
 
 And he drew a long breath as if his breast was just relieved 
 of a great weight. 
 
 At that moment the tramp of a horse was heard in front of 
 them and a rider became indistinctly visible through the fog. 
 
 "Halim! I recognize him/' exclaimed Azya. 
 
 In fact it was Halim who when he had galloped up to 
 Azya and Basia, sprang from his horse and began to bow his 
 head at the stirrup of the young Tartar: 
 
 "From Rashkov?" inquired Azya. 
 
 "From Rashkov, my lord!" 
 
 "What is the news?" 
 
 The old man raised his ugly face, emaciated with ceaseless 
 toils towards Basia as though asking if he was to speak before 
 her but Tukhay Bey's son at once cried: 
 
 "Speak out! Have the troops left?" 
 
 "Yes! Only a handful are left." 
 
 "Who led them?" 
 
 "Pan Novovyeyski." 
 
 "Have the Pyotroviches gone to the Crimea?" 
 
 "Long since. Two women alone remained with old Pan 
 Novovyeyski." 
 
 "Where is Krychinski?" 
 
 "Waiting on the other side of the river." 
 
 "Who is with him?" 
 
 "Adurovich with his company; both bow their heads at thy 
 stirrup, son of Tukhay Bey and give themselves into thy 
 hand, they and all those who have not yet arrived." 
 
 "Good!" cried Azya with flashing eyes. Fly at once to 
 Krychinski and order him to occupy Rashkov." 
 
 Halim sprang into the saddle in an instant and vanished 
 like a phantom in the fog. . . Azya's face assumed a terrible 
 ominous expression. The decisive moment had arrived, the 
 moment awaited, the moment of his greatest happiness; but 
 his heart was beating fast and his breath came short. . . For 
 some time he rode beside Basia in silence and not till he felt 
 that his voice would not fail him did he gaze at her with in- 
 scrutable but flashing eyes and say: 
 
 "Now I will speak to your ladyship frankly." 
 
 "I am listening," answered Basia looking at him search- 
 ingly as if trying to read his altered countenance. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Azya urged his horse close to Basia's pony till their stir- 
 rups almost touched. He rode on a few paces in silence 
 while he made a final effort to control himself, and wondered 
 why it was such an effort to gain calmness since Basia was 
 in his hands and no human power could deprive him of her. 
 But he did not know that contrary to all likelihood, and 
 every evidence, a faint spark of hope was glimmering in his 
 soul that the woman he desired might reciprocate his own 
 feelings. If this hope was faint the desire was at the same 
 time so strong that he trembled with it as with a fever. The 
 woman would not at once open her arms, nor cast herself into 
 his arms, not utter those words over which he had dreamed 
 for whole nights: "Azya, I am thine," nor would she hang 
 with her lips on his, that he knew. . . . But how would 
 she receive his words? Would she lose all feeling like a dove 
 in the talons of a bird of prey and let him snatch her as the 
 hapless dove yields itself up to the hawk? Would she beg 
 for mercy with tears, or would the wilderness resound with 
 her cries of terror? Would all this be something more or Jess 
 than the reality? Such were the questions that were whirling 
 in the brain of the youig Tartar. But in any case the moment 
 had arrived to cast away all- pretence and deceit and to show 
 truthful and terrible looks. . . This was the cause of his 
 restlessness and fearfulness. This; yet a moment, and some 
 decided step should be taken. 
 
 At last that fear in the soul of the Tartar became what 
 fear most often becomes in a wild beast, rage; and with that 
 rage he began to lash himself. "Whatever is the result," he 
 thought, "she is mine, she is mine entirely, she will be mine 
 this very day, and then she will not return to her husband, 
 but will follow me." . . . 
 
 At this he was seized by a wild delight, and suddenly, in 
 tones that sounded strange even to himself, he said: 
 
 "Your ladyship has never known me till now!" 
 
 "Your voice has so altered in this fog," Basia replied in 
 
 (328) 
 
7M.V MIC HA EL. 
 
 329 
 
 some alarm, "indeed it seems to me as if some one else were 
 f-peaking." 
 
 "There arc no troops in Mohilov, nor in Yampol, nor in 
 JJashkov. I alone am lord here. . . Krychinski, Aduro- 
 vich, and the rest are my slaves; for I am a prince, I am the 
 son of a ruler. I am their vizir, I am their greatest Murza; 
 I am their chief as was Tukhay Bey; I am their Khan; I 
 alone am in authority, everything here is in my power." . . 
 
 "Why do you say this to me?" 
 
 ''Hitherto your ladyship has not known me. Rashkov is 
 not far oil'. 1 wanted to become the Hetman of the Tartars 
 and serve the Commonwealth; but Sobieski would not allow it. 
 I am not going to be a Lipkov Tartar any longer; I am not 
 going to serve under the command of any man; I myself am 
 going to lead great chambuls against Dorosh, or against the 
 Commonwealth as your ladyship wishes, as your ladyship 
 orders." 
 
 "How, as I order? Azya, what is the matter with you?" 
 
 "This, that all here are my slaves, and I am thine. What is 
 the Hetman to me? I care not whether he has given permis- 
 sion or not. Your ladyship, speak the word and I will lay 
 Akkerman at your ladyship's feet; and the Dobrudja and the 
 hordes that have villages there and those that wander in the 
 wilderness and all those in every winter quarters shall be thy 
 slaves, as I am thy slave. . . Command . . . and I will 
 not obey the Khan of the Crimea, I will not obey the Sultan; 
 1 will draw the sword against them and help the Common- 
 wealth. I will gather new hordes in these regions and be 
 Khan over them as thou wilt be over me; to thee alone will I 
 how down and sue for thy favor and love." 
 
 Then he bent in his saddle and, seizing the woman, who 
 was half stunned and terrified by his words, around the waist, 
 continued to speak in hoarse rapid accents: 
 
 ''Hast thou not seen that I love thee alone? . . . Ah! I 
 have had my share of suffering! I will take thee now! . . . 
 Thou art mine and mine thou shalt be! Nobody will tear 
 thee from my grasp here, thou art mine! mine! mine!" 
 
 ''Jesu Maria!" cried Basia. / 
 
 But he squeezed her in his arms as if trying to stifle her. . . 
 His breath came in short gasps and his eyes grew dim; at last 
 lie dragged her out of the stirrups and off her saddle, set her 
 before him, pressed her to his breast, and his bluish lips, 
 gaping like the mouth of a tish, sought her own. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 She did not utter a cry, but began to resist with almost 
 superhuman power and a silent struggle commenced but for 
 their loud panting. His violent actions and the closeness of 
 his face brought back her presence of mind. In an instant 
 Basia gained that clear vision that comes to drowning men; 
 everything stood out with the greatest vividness. Thus she 
 .first felt that the earth was being snatched away from under 
 her feet and leaving an abyss into which he was dragging her; 
 she saw his passion,, his treason, her own horrible fate, her 
 weakness and dire extremity; she felt terrified and was con- 
 scious of a terrible pain and grief, and at the same time she 
 flamed up with intense exasperation, frenzy, and revenge. 
 Such was the valiant spirit of this daughter of a knight, this 
 chosen wife of the brevet-knight of the Commonwealth, that 
 in that terrible moment her" first thought was to revenge her- 
 self, and then to save herself. All the faculties of her mind 
 were at a tension as the hair stands upright on the head with 
 terror and the clear vision of drowning men became almost 
 miraculous in her. As she fought her hands began to grope 
 for weapons and at last found the ivory butt of an Oriental 
 pistol; but at the same time she had the presence of mind to 
 reflect that even if it were loaded and she managed to cock it, 
 before she could level it at his head he would certainly seize 
 her hand and deprive her of her last means of salvation. So 
 she determined to strike in another way. 
 
 All this only took an instant. He indeed saw her intentiop 
 and thrust his hand forward as quick as lightning, but did 
 not succeed in timing her movement. The hands crossed and 
 Basia with all the strength of despair in her young ano 
 vigorous fist struck him like lightning between the eyes with 
 the ivory butt of the pistol. 
 
 It was such a terrible blow that Azya was not even able to 
 utter a cry, but fell backwards, dragging her with him in his 
 fall. 
 
 Basia rose in an instant and, springing upon her horse 
 she started like a whirlwind away from the Dnieper towards 
 the wide steppes. 
 
 {The curtain of fog closed behind her. The horse laid his 
 ears back and dashed on wildly among the rocks, clefts, gul- 
 lies, and trunks. He was likely to run into some cleft or 
 other at any moment, or crush himself and his rider against 
 some jutting rock; but Basia took no thought of anything, 
 the most dreadful peril to her was the Lipkovs and Azya. . . . 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 331 
 
 It was most strange that now when she had delivered her- 
 self from the hands of the robber and he was lying to all 
 appearances dead among the rocks, she was overcome with 
 dread. Lying along the horse's back with her face on his 
 mane, dashing on through the fog, like a deer hunted by the 
 wolves, she now began to be more afraid of Azya than she 
 had been in his arms and she felt that terror and helplessness 
 that a weak child feels .which, when wandering aimlessly 
 astray, is left to God's protection. Wailing voices began to 
 make themselves heard in her heart and to cry out for pro- 
 tection with dread, complaint, and piteousness: 
 
 "Save, Michael! . ; . Save, Michael! . . . " 
 
 The horse kept rushing on, guided by a marvellous instinct 
 he cleared hollows and swerved quickly to avoid rocky cor- 
 ners, till at last his hoofs ceased to clatter on rocky ground, 
 and he had evidently reached one of the open fields that were 
 scattered among the ravines. 
 
 The horse was covered with foam and the breath was rat- 
 tling in his nostrils, but still he galloped on. 
 
 "Where shall I go?" thought Basia, 
 
 And immediately the answer came: 
 
 "To Khreptyov!" 
 
 But her heart was seized with fresh terror at the thought 
 of the long distance to traverse in that terrible wilderness. 
 The memory also came like a flash that Azya had left de- 
 tachments of his Lipkovs at Mohilov and Yampol. Undoubt- 
 edly the Lipkovs were all in the plot; they were all devoted 
 to Azya and would certainly seize her and carry her to Rash- 
 kov, and so she ought to ride far out into the steppes and 
 then turn towards the north and thus avoid the posts on the 
 Dniester. 
 
 There was all the more reason for this course because if 
 she was pursued the men would certainly keep close to the 
 river and in the meantime it might be possible to come across 
 some of the Polish troops in the wide steppes on their return 
 to the forts. 
 
 Gradually her horse's speed began to decrease. Basia was 
 an experienced rider and at once understood that she must 
 give him time to recover his wind or he would fall; she also 
 recognized that if she should be left without a horse in those 
 wild regions she would be lost. 
 
 She therefore checked him, and for some time proceeded at 
 a walk. The fog was growing thinner, but a cloud of hot 
 eteam was rising from the noor animal. 
 
332 . MICUAKL. 
 
 Basia began -to pray. 
 
 Suddenly she heard a horse neighing in the fog a few hun- 
 dred yards behind her. 
 
 The hair stood upright on her head. 
 
 "My horse will fall dead, but that one will too!" she cried 
 as she again galloped forward. 
 
 For some time her horse sped on with the speed of a dove 
 pursued by a falcon, and he ran on almost to the limit of 
 forces; but the neighing was constantly audible behind them. 
 That neigh that reached them through the fog had a sound at 
 once pining and threatening, and when she had got over her 
 first terror it occurred to Basia that if that horse had a rider 
 he would not neigh, as the rider would stop it so as not to re- 
 veal his presence. 
 
 "Can it be that it is only Azya's horse following me?" 
 thought Basia. 
 
 For precaution she took both pistols out of her holsters, 
 but it was unnecessary. In a few moments a dark object ap- 
 peared through the lightening fog and Azya's horse galloped 
 up with flowing mane and wide nostrils. On seeing the pony 
 he approached him with short, sharp neighs, to which the 
 other immediately responded. 
 
 "Horsey, horsey!" cried Basia. 
 
 The animal, used to human handling, approached and al- 
 lowed himself to be seized by the bridle. Basia raised her 
 eyes to Heaven and ejaculated: 
 
 "The protection of God!" 
 
 In truth this seizure of Azya's horse was an extremely for- 
 tunate circumstance for her. In the first place she now pos- 
 sessed the two best horses in the whole party; in the second 
 she could change horses; and thirdly and lastly, the presence 
 of the animal assured her that there would be no immediate 
 pursuit. If it had joined the rest of the party the Lipkovs 
 would have taken the alarm and would immediately have 
 turned back to seek their leader without fail; now it will not 
 occur to them that anything has happened to him and they 
 will not go back to search for him till his prolonged absence 
 has made them anxious. 
 
 "I shall be far away by that time!" was the conclusion of 
 Basia's reflections. 
 
 Then again she remembered that Azya's detachments were 
 posted at Yampol and Mohilov. 
 
 "I must make a detour through the wide steppes and not 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 333 
 
 approach the Dniester till in the neighborhood of Khreptyov. 
 That terrible man has made a cunning disposition of his 
 forces, but God will save me from them." 
 
 Then she summoned up her spirits and prepared to con- 
 tinue her flight. At the pommel of Azya's saddle she found a 
 musket, a powder-horn, a bullet-pouch, a box of hemp-seed, 
 which the Tartar was in the habit of chewing continually. 
 Basia shortened Azya's stirrups to her own feet and thought 
 to herself that all along the way she would live on those seeds 
 like a bird, and she kept them carefully by her. 
 
 She made up her mind to avoid all people and farms; for in 
 those wild regions more evil than good was to be expected 
 from every man. Her heart was seized with dread as she 
 thought: "How shall I feed the horses?" They could scrape 
 out grass from under the snow and crop moss from the crev- 
 ices of the rocks; but were they not likely to succumb from 
 bad fodder and prolonged travelling? She could not do 
 without them, however. . . . 
 
 She had another dread: "Would she go astray in the wilder- 
 ness?" That might be readily avoided by following the course 
 of the Dniester, but she could not take that way. What 
 might happen if she entered the great, dark, and pathless 
 forests? How would she know whether she was steering 
 northwards or in any other direction, if she were to have foggy 
 days, sunless days and starless nights? The wilderness was 
 swarming with wild beasts; but she did not care so much about 
 that as she was stout-hearted and armed. Wolves hunting 
 in packs might be dangerous, it is true, but on the whole she 
 dreaded men more than beasts, and most of all she dreaded to 
 go astray. 
 
 "Ah, God will guide me, and let me get back to Michael," 
 she said aloud. 
 
 Then she crossed herself, wiped away with her sleeve the 
 moisture that chilled her pale cheeks, reconnoiterd the coun- 
 try with sharp eyes, and urged her horse into a gallop. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Nobody -thought of looking for the son of Tukhay Bey. 
 and so he lay on the ground until he recovered consciousness. 
 
 When he did so so he sat up, and began to look about him, 
 wanting to know what had happened. 
 
 But everything looked dark to him and then he discovered 
 that he could only see out of one eye, and that badly. The 
 other was either destroyed or filled with blood. 
 
 Azya raised his hands to his face. His fingers found icicles 
 of coagulated blood of his moustache; his mouth was also 
 full of blood that was choking him so that he had to keep 
 coughing and spitting it out; this spitting caused excrucia- 
 ting pain to his face; he raised his hand above his moustache 
 but immediately dropped it with a moan of agony. 
 
 Basia's blow had smashed the bridge of his nose and 
 damaged his cheek-bone. For some time he sat motionless, 
 and then comemnced to gaze about him with the eye that 
 still preserved some sight, and seeing a patch of snow in a 
 crevice he crawled up to it, grasped a handful and applied 
 it to his crushed face. 
 
 This immediately afforded great relief, and while the melt- 
 ing snow was flowing down over his moustache in red streaks, 
 he gathered another handful and again applied it. He also 
 began to swallow the snow gredily and this gave him relief. 
 Presently the great weight that seemed to be pressing on his 
 brain seemed to be lightened so that he was able to recall all 
 that had occurred. At first however he felt no fury, anger, 
 nor despair; all other feelings were deadened by physical 
 pain and only one desire remained, to save himself quickly. 
 
 After eating several more handfuls of snow Azya began 
 to look for his horse; it wasn't there; then he saw that unless 
 he wanted to wait till his Lipkovs came to search for him he 
 must go on foot. 
 
 Supporting himself with his hands he tried to rise from 
 the earth, but howled with pain and sat down again. 
 
 He sat there for about an hour and then made another 
 
 (334) - - 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 335 
 
 effort. This time he so far succeeded that he got up and 
 leaning his back against a cliff,, managed to keep his feet; 
 but when he remembered that he had to leave this support 
 and take one step after another in the open space he was 
 so overcome with a feeling of dread and weariness that he sat 
 down again. 
 
 However he mastered his weakness; he drew his sabre and 
 tried to advance leaning upon it; he succeeded. After a 
 fow paces he felt that his body and feet were strong and 
 under control, but his head did not seem to belong to him 
 jind like a tremendous weight swayed now to*the right, now 
 to the left, now to the rear, now to the front. He also had 
 a feeling as though he were carrying that shaking and over- 
 heavy head with extreme caution and was extremely afraid 
 of dropping it on the stones and breaking it. It sometimes 
 also turned him around as if trying to make him go in a 
 circle. Sometimes darkness came over his sole eye, and then 
 he leaned on his sabre with both hands. 
 
 The dizziness in his head gradually passed away; but the 
 pain constantly increased and seemed to be boring into his 
 brow, and eyes, and entire head, till groans forced themselves 
 from Azya's breast. 
 
 His groans were echoed back from the rocks and he ad- 
 vanced through that wilderness bleeding and horrible, re- 
 sembling a vampire more than a man. 
 
 It was already growing dark when he heard the tramp of 
 a horse before him. 
 
 It was the Lipkov corporal coming for orders. 
 
 That evening Azya had sufficient strength to give orders 
 for the pursuit, but immediately afterwards he lay down 
 on some skins and could see no one for three days but the 
 (ireek barber-surgeons who dressed his wounds, and Halim 
 who assisted him. Not till the fourth day did he recover 
 his speech and with it the remembrance of what had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 His fevered thoughts immediately flew to Basia. He 
 saw her fleeing among rocks and through desolate places; 
 she seemed like a bird ever flying from him; he saw her ap- 
 proaching Khreptyov and then in the arms of her husband, 
 and at that vision he was seized with anguish more, poignant 
 oven Hum his wound, and with it was mingled sorrow and 
 shame for the calamity which had overtaken him. 
 
 "She has fled, she has fled!" he repeated again and again; 
 
33 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 and at times his rage so overwhelmed him that he was again 
 in danger of losing his senses. "Woe!" he cried to Halim's 
 efforts to calm him, assuring him that Basia could not 
 escape the pursuit; and he kicked off the skins with which 
 the old Tartar had covered him and threatened both him 
 and the Greek with his knife. He howled like a wild beast 
 and attempted to spring to his feet to fly himself, and come 
 up with her and capture her, and then in his fury and wild 
 passion throttle her with his own hands. 
 
 At moments he would wander in delirium and call to 
 Halim to bring the little knight's head as quickly as pos- 
 sible and imprison his wife there bound in the room. 
 Sometimes he talked to her, imploring and threatening and 
 then extending his arms to draw her to his side. Finally 
 he fell into a deep sleep which lasted for twenty-four hours; 
 when he woke the fever had entirely left him and he was 
 able to see Krychinski, an'd Adurovich. 
 
 They were anxious, not knowing what to begin. It was 
 true that the forces that had departed under young Novovy- 
 eyski would not return for two weeks; but some unexpected 
 event might hasten their coming and in that case it was ne- 
 cessary to know what measures to take. It is true that Kry- 
 chinski and Adurovich were only pretending to return to the 
 service of the Commonwealth; but Azya was arranging every- 
 thing; only he could direct them what to do in case of need; 
 only he ^could point out what course promised the greatest 
 profit: to return at once to the Sultan's dominions, or to 
 keep up the sham, and how long, that they were serving the 
 Comonwealth; but they expected him to order them to wait 
 for the war before disclosing their treason so as to render 
 it more effective. 
 
 They would regard his suggestions as commands, for he 
 had imposed his will upon them as leader and the head of 
 the whole business, the most cunning and influential as 
 well as being celebrated with all the hordes as the son of 
 Tukhay Bey. 
 
 Therefore they hastened to his bedside and bowed down 
 before him. He greeted them. He was still feeble with his 
 bandaged fdce and only one eye, but was convalescent. 
 
 "I am ill," he said at once. "The woman whom I desired 
 to take unto myself tore herself out of my hands after 
 wounding me with the butt of a pistol. She was the wife of 
 Volodiyovski, the commandant; may pestilence seize him 
 and all his race!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 337 
 
 "May it be as thou hast spoken!" answered the two chiefs. 
 
 "May God grant you, faithful men, fortune and success !" 
 
 "And to thee -also, oh Master!" 
 
 Then they began to talk as to what should be done. 
 
 Azya said: "It is imposible to delay or put off serving the 
 Sultan till the war is begun: after what has occurred with this 
 woman they will not trust us, but will attack us with sabres. 
 But before that happens, we will fall upon this place and 
 burn it to the glory of God. We will capture the handful 
 of soldiers that are left, and also the townspeople who are 
 the subjects of the Commonwealth, we will share the prop- 
 erty of the Wallachians, Armenians, and Greeks, and pass 
 over the Dniester to the land of the Sultan. 
 
 Krychinski and Adurovich had long lived as nomads 
 among the wild hordes and savages and ravaged with them 
 and become altogether savage; so their eyes sparkled. 
 
 "Thanks to you," cried Krychinski, "we are admitted to 
 this place which God now gives into our hands. . . . " 
 
 "Did not Novovyeyski make any objection?" asked Azya. 
 
 "Novovyeyski knew that we were coming over to the Com- 
 monwealth and that you were coming to meet us; he con- 
 siders us his men just as he does you." 
 
 "We stayed on the Moldavian bank," added Adurovich, 
 "but Krychinski and I visited him as guests. He received 
 us as nobles, saying, 'By your present conduct you blot out 
 former offenses; and since the Hetman pardons you on Azya's 
 security it would not be right for me to regard you with sus- 
 picion. He even wanted me to enter the town, but we said: 
 'We will not do so till Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey comes 
 with the Hetman's permission. . . . But when he was 
 leaving he gave us another feast and begged us to watch 
 over the town." 
 
 "At that feast," added Krychinski, "we saw his father 
 and the old woman who is seeking her captive husband and 
 the young lady whom Novovyeyski wants to marry." 
 
 "Ah!" said Azya, "I did not think that they were .all here, 
 and I have brought Panna Novovyeyski." 
 
 He clapped his hands; Halim immediately appeared and 
 Azya said to him: "When my Lipkovs see the place in flames, 
 let them fall on the soldiers in the fort and cut their throats, 
 and bind the women, and the old noble, and keep them under 
 guard till they receive further orders from me." 
 
 Then he turned to Krychinski and Adurovich: 
 22 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 not take part in it myself because I am weak; but 
 I wil mount iny horse and look on. But, dear comrades, 
 begin, begin!" 
 
 Krychinski and Adurovich immediately rushed out. Azya 
 followed and ordered a horse to be brought; then he rode to 
 the stockade to watch from the gate of the high fort what 
 should happen in the town. 
 
 Many of his men had begun to climb the wall to gaze 
 through the piles and gloat over the slaughter. Those of 
 Novovyeyski's men who had not gone to the steppes seeing 
 the Lipkovs gathered together and supposing that there 
 was something to be seen in the town, mingled with them 
 without the least fear or suspicion. Moreover, there were 
 scarcely twenty of these; the rest were scattered in the drink- 
 ing places. 
 
 In the meantime the forces of Krychinski and Adurovich 
 did not take an instant to scatter through the town. They 
 were composed almost exclusively of Lipkovs and" Cheremis, 
 and were therefore former dwellers in the Commonwealth 
 and the majority of them nobles; but as they had long since 
 left its dominions they had grown much like wild Tartars 
 during they years of wandering. Their original clothes had 
 fallen to pieces and they now wore sheepskin coats with the 
 wool outside. They wore them next to their skin which was 
 tanned with the winds of the steppes and the smoke of fires; 
 but they had better weapons than the wild Tartars; they 
 all had sabres and bows seasoned with fire, and many had mus- 
 kets. Their faces were as cruel and blood-thirsty as those 
 of their brethern of the Dobrudja, Byalogrod,or the Crimea. 
 
 They now scattered through the town and began to run 
 about in every direction uttering shrill cries, as if to en- 
 courage and excite each other to murder and pillage. But 
 although many of them had put their knives between their 
 teeth in the Tartar fashion, the townspeople who, as in Yam- 
 pol, consisted of Wallachians, Armenians, Greeks, and some 
 Tartar merchants, did not regard them with any suspicion. 
 The shops were open; the merchants, sitting in front of 
 them in Turkish fashion on benches, were passing the beads 
 of their rosaries through their fingers. The cries of the 
 Lipkovs only attracted the curiosity of people who thought 
 they were playing some game. 
 
 But suddenly smoke arose from the corners of the market- 
 square aj\d from the lips of all the Tartars rose such terrible 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 339 
 
 bowlings that terror seized the Wallachians, Armenians, and 
 Greeks, and their wives and children. A shower of arrows 
 immediately rained on the harmless inhabitants. Their cries 
 and the noise of door and windows hurriedly shutting mingled 
 with the tramp of horses and the howls of the pillagers. 
 
 The market was full of smoke. Cries were raised of 
 "Fire! fire!" At the same instant the Tartars began to break 
 open shops and windows and drag out the terrified women 
 by the hair, and cast into the street furniture, saffian, mer- 
 chandise, and beds giving forth clouds of feathers. Then 
 were heard the groans of slaughtered men, lamentations, the 
 howling of dogs, the bellowing of cattle caught by fire in rear 
 buildings; and red tongues of flame visible even in daylight 
 amid the black wreaths of smoke, shot higher and higher 
 to the heavens. 
 
 At the very beginning of the tumult Azya's troopers hurled 
 themselves on the infantry in the fort; the majority of them 
 were unarmed. 
 
 There was not the slightest struggle; many knives were 
 buried in each Polish breast without a word of warning and 
 then the heads of the unfortunates were cut off and taken 
 and laid at the feet of Azya's horse. 
 
 The son of Tukhay Bey allowed most of his men to join 
 their brethren in the work of blood while he stood and looked 
 on. 
 
 The work of Krychinski and Adurovich was concealed by 
 smoke; the odor of burned flesh ascended to the fort. The 
 town was burning like a great pyre and smoke hid everything 
 from view; only amid the smoke the occasional report of a 
 musket was heard, like thunder in a cloud, or a fugitive was 
 risible, or a throng of pursuing Lipkovs. 
 
 Azya stood motionless and looked on with ferocious joy 
 in his heart; his lips parted in a savage smile and revealed 
 his white gleaming teeth: that smile was so much the more 
 savage from being mingled with the pain of his healing 
 wounds. The heart of the Lipkov was full of pride as well 
 as joy. 
 
 He had cast away the burden 'of pretence and for the first 
 time he now gave rein to his hatred, hidden for so many 
 years; he now felt that he was himself, the real Azya, the 
 son of Tukhay Bey. 
 
 But at the same time his heart was filled with fierce regret 
 that Basia did not witness that conflagration and carnage 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 "Traitor!" he cried, "you shall answer before a judge for 
 your deeds. . . . Serpent! ... I have yet a son!" 
 
 "You also have a daughter 001 whose account you ordered 
 me to be flogged to death; and that daughter I will now pre- 
 sent to the meanest of the horde for his service and pleasure." 
 
 "Master, give her to me!" suddenly cried Adurovich. 
 
 Eva cast herself at his feet and cried, "Azya! Azya! I have 
 always " 
 
 But he spurned her with his foot and Adurovich seized 
 her by the arms and began to drag her along the floor. Pan 
 Novovyeyski's face turned from -purple to blue; the cords 
 cracked on his writhing arms and unintelligible words es- 
 caped his lips. Azya rose from the skins and approached 
 him, slowly at first, and then more quickly, like a wild 
 animal preparing to spring upon its prey. He reached him 
 and clenched his fingers in old Novovyeyski's moustache and 
 with the other hand began to beat him mercilessly about 
 the head and face. 
 
 He bellowed hoarsely as the old noble fell to the floor 
 Azya then knelt on Novovyeyski's breast and then the bright 
 flash of a knife was seen. 
 
 "Mercy! help!" screamed Eva. But Adurovich struck 
 her on the head and put his broad hand over her mouth; 
 meanwhile Azya was slaying Pan Novovyeyski. 
 
 It was such a ghastly sight that even the blood of the 
 Tartar officers ran cold, for Azya with deliberate ferocity 
 slowly drew his knife across the neck of the ill-fated noble 
 whose gaspings and chokings were frightful. From his 
 severed veins the blood spurted more and more violently and 
 streamed across the floor. Then the rattling and gurgling 
 gradually ceased till the last gasps were audible in the severed 
 throat and the dying man's feet convulsively dug the floor. 
 
 Azya rose. 
 
 His eyes fell on the pale and sweet face of Zosia Boska who 
 appeared to be dead as she hung senseless on the arm of a 
 Tartar who held her, and said: 
 
 "I will keep this girl for myself, till I give her away or sell 
 her." 
 
 Then he turned to the Tartars: "We will now only await 
 the return of the pursuit and then go to the lands of the Sul- 
 tan." 
 
 The pursuit returned two days later with empty hands. 
 Therefore the son of Tukhay Bey set out for the land of the 
 Sultan with a heart full of rage and despair, leaving behind 
 a heap erf grey and bluiih nuns, 
 
CHAPTER IV, 
 
 From ten to twelve Ukraine miles separated the towns 
 through which Basia had travelled from Khreptyov to Rash- 
 kov, or the whole route along the Dniester amounted to 
 thirty. It is true that they had started each morning while 
 it was still dark and not halted till late at night; but still 
 they made the whole journey, including refreshments, and in 
 spite of difficult passages and crossings, in three days. At 
 that day people did not make such quick journeys as a rule; 
 bat whoever had the will or the need could do so. Taking 
 this into consideration. Basia calculated that the journey 
 back to Khreptyov ought not to take so long, especially as 
 she was making it on horseback, and this was a flight in which 
 her safety depended on celerity. 
 
 However, she discovered her mistake on the first day, for, 
 unable to escape by the road along the Dniester, she made 
 a detour through the steppes and this considerably lengthened 
 the road. Moreover she might lose herself and she was likely 
 to do so; she might come across thawed rivers; or dense im- 
 passable forests; or marshes that were not frozen over even in 
 Winter; she might suffer injury from men or wild beasts; 
 therefore, though she decided to keep on without stopping/ 
 yet she told herself that even if all went well God knew when 
 she would reach Khreptyov. 
 
 She had succeeded in tearing herself out of Azya's arms; 
 but what would happen farther on? Undoubtedly anything 
 was preferable to those vile arms; and yet her blood ran cold 
 at the thought of what might be in store for her. 
 
 It immediately occurred to her that if she spared the 
 horses she might be overtaken by the Lipkovs, who were thor- 
 oughly familiar with that wilderness; and to hide from discov- 
 ery and pursuit was almost impossible. They hunted Tartars 
 even in the Spring and Summer when there was no snow or 
 soft earth to retain the tracks of horses; they could read the 
 steppe like an open book; they scrutinized those plains like 
 eagles; they could follow a scent in them like hounds; their 
 
 (343) 
 
2^2 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Traitor!" he cried, "you shall answer before a judge for 
 your deeds. . . . Serpent! ... I have yet a son!" 
 
 "You also have a daughter on whose account you ordered 
 me to be flogged to death; and that daughter I will now pre- 
 sent to the meanest of the horde for his service and pleasure." 
 
 "Master, give her to me!" suddenly cried Adurovich. 
 
 Eva cast herself at his feet and cried, "Azya! Azya! I have 
 always " 
 
 But he spurned her with his foot and Adurovich seized 
 her by the arms and began to drag her along the floor. Pan 
 Novovyeyski's face turned from -purple to blue; the cords 
 cracked on his writhing arms and unintelligible words es- 
 caped his lips. Azya rose from the skins and approached 
 him, slowly at first, and then more quickly, like a wild 
 animal preparing to spring upon its prey. He reached him 
 and clenched his fingers in old Novovyeyski's moustache and 
 with the other hand began to beat him mercilessly about 
 the head and face. 
 
 He bellowed hoarsely as the old noble fell to the floor 
 Azya then knelt on Novovyeyski's breast and then the bright 
 flash of a knife was seen. 
 
 "Mercy! help!" screamed Eva. But Adurovich struck 
 her on the head and put his broad hand over her mouth; 
 meanwhile Azya was slaying Pan Novovyeyski. 
 
 It was such a ghastly sight that even the blood of the 
 Tartar officers ran cold, for Azya with deliberate ferocity 
 slowly drew his knife across the neck of the ill-fated noble 
 whose gaspings and chokings were frightful. From his 
 severed veins the blood spurted more and more violently and 
 streamed across the floor. Then the rattling and gurgling 
 gradually ceased till the last gasps were audible in the severed 
 throat and the dying man's feet convulsively dug the floor. 
 
 Azya rose. 
 
 His eyes fell on the pale and sweet face of Zosia Boska who 
 appeared to be dead as she hung senseless on the arm of a 
 Tartar who held her, and said: 
 
 "I will keep this girl for myself, till I give her away or sell 
 her." 
 
 Then he turned to the Tartars: "We will now only await 
 the return of the pursuit and then go to the lands of the Sul- 
 tan." 
 
 The pursuit returned two days later with empty hands. 
 Therefore the son of Tukhay Bey set out for the land of the 
 Sultan with a heart full of rage and despair, leaving behind 
 feim a heap of grey and bluish ruins, 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 From ten to twelve Ukraine miles separated the towns 
 through which Basia had travelled from Khreptyov to Rash- 
 kov, or the whole route along the Dniester amounted to 
 thirty. It is true that they had started each morning while 
 it was still dark and not halted till late at night; but still 
 they made the whole journey, including refreshments, and in 
 spite of difficult passages and crossings, in three days. At 
 that day people did not make such quick journeys as a rule; 
 but whoever had the will or the need could do so. Taking 
 this into consideration. Basia calculated that the journey 
 back to Khreptyov ought not to take so long, especially as 
 she was making it on horseback, and this was a flight in which 
 her safety depended on celerity. 
 
 However, she discovered her mistake on the first day, for, 
 unable to escape by the road along the Dniester, she made 
 a detour through the steppes and this considerably lengthened 
 the road. Moreover she might lose herself and she was likely 
 to do so; she might come across thawed rivers; or dense im- 
 passable forests; or marshes that were not frozen over even in 
 Winter; she might suffer injury from men or wild beasts; 
 therefore, though she decided to keep on without stopping/ 
 yet she told herself that even if all went well God knew when 
 she would reach Khreptyov. 
 
 She had succeeded in tearing herself out of Azya's arms; 
 but what would happen farther on? Undoubtedly anything 
 was preferable to those vile arms; and yet her blood ran cold 
 at the thought of what might be in store for her. 
 
 It immediately occurred to her that if she spared the 
 horses she might be overtaken by the Lipkovs, who were thor- 
 oughly familiar with that wilderness; and to hide from discov- 
 ery and pursuit was almost impossible. They hunted Tartars 
 even in the Spring and Summer when there was no snow or 
 soft earth to retain the tracks of horses; they could read the 
 steppe like an open book; they scrutinized those plains like 
 eagles; they could follow a scent in them like hounds; their 
 
 (343) 
 
344 P&N MICHAEL. 
 
 whole life was spent in hunting. Vainly, again and again, 
 had Tartars marched in the si reams so as to leave no trail; 
 Cossacks, Lipkovs, and Clieremis, as well as the Polish war- 
 riors of the steppes knew how to iind them and to meet their 
 tricks with counter- tricks and deliver an attack as suddenly 
 as if they had sprung up from the earth. llo\v was she to 
 escape from such men except by leaving them so far behind 
 that the very distance made capture impossible? But in that 
 case her horses would give out. 
 
 "They will inevitably fall dead if they keep on as they 
 have gone hitherto," thought Basia, looking in terror at 
 their wet steaming flanks and the foam falling to the earth 
 in flakes. 
 
 So from time to time she slowed up and listened; but she 
 heard pursuing voices in every breath of the wind, the rustling 
 of the leaves on the edges of the ravines, in the noise made by 
 the dry reeds of the steppe as they rubbed against one another, 
 in the flapping of the wings of a passing bird, and even in the 
 silence of the wilderness which seemed to hum in her ears. 
 
 In terror she again urged her horses into a wild gallop till 
 warned by their snorting that the speed could not be main- 
 tained. 
 
 The weight of her loneliness and helplessness became more 
 and more crushing. Ah! what an orphan she felt! What bit- 
 terness, as great as unjust, filled her heart towards everybody, 
 the nearest and dearest, who had thus forsaken her! 
 
 Then she reflected that certainly God must be punishing 
 her for her passion for adventure and her eagerness for all 
 kinds of hunts and expeditions, often against her husband's 
 wish; and for her frivolity and want of sedateness. As she 
 thought of all this she wept bitterly, and raising her little 
 head she sobbed: 
 
 "Chastise, but do not forsake me! Do not punish Michael! 
 Michael is innocent." 
 
 In the meantime night was coming on, accompanied by 
 cold, darkness, uncertainty of the road, and disquiet. Objects 
 were becoming obscure, dim, and losing their forms, besides 
 seeming to acquire a mysterious life and to be crouching. 
 The peaks of lofty rocks resembled heads in pointed and 
 round caps, heads that were peering from behind some kind 
 of gigantic wall, watching to see who wius passing below with a 
 silent and malignant glance. Branches of trees, moved by the 
 wind, seemed 'to be gesticulating like people: some of them 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 345 
 
 beckoned to Basia. as if trying to> call her and tell her some 
 awful secret; and others seemed to utter the warning: "Don't 
 come near!" 
 
 The trunks of overturned trees looked like monstrous 
 beings crouching to spring at her. Basia was very bold 
 and daring, but, like all the people of that time, she was super- 
 stitious. When darkness fell entirely, her hair stood upright 
 on her head as she shivered all over, and thought of the un- 
 clean powers that might inhabit those regions. She especially 
 dreaded vampires; the belief in these beings was rife all along 
 the Dniester, especially on account of-the vicinity of Moldavia, 
 and especially the places immediately about Yampol and 
 Rashkov had an evil reputation in thai matter. What num- 
 bers of people there daily met with a sudden death, without 
 either confession or absolution! All the stories told by the 
 cavaliers at Khreptyov in the evenings by the fireside came 
 into Basia's mind; tales of deep chasms in which, when the 
 wind blew, moans of "Jesus! Jesus!" were suddenly heard, 
 and pale lights, accompanied by pantings; of rocky cliffs that 
 were heard to laugh; of pallid children, sucklings, with green 
 eyes and monstrous heads, infants who entreated to be taken 
 up on horseback and when there they began to suck blood; 
 lastly, bodiless heads walking on soldier-legs; and most hor- 
 rible of all, those ghastly abominations, full-sized vampires, or 
 Brukolaki, as they were called in Wallachia, who immediately 
 sprang upon people. 
 
 Then she began to cross herself and did not stop till her 
 hand was tired, and even then, she repeated the Litany, as 
 these were the only effective workings against unclean powers. 
 
 She got some comfort out of the horses who did not ex- 
 hibit any fear, but snorted lustily. Now and then she would 
 pat her pony on the neck, as if trying by that means to assure 
 herself that she was in a world of reality. 
 
 The night which at first was extremely dark, gradually be- 
 came clearer, and at length the stars began to shimmer 
 through the light mist. This was a very lucky thing for 
 Basia, because in the first place it calmed her fear? and, in 
 the second, by keeping her eye on the Great Wain, ehe could 
 direct herself northwards, towards Khreptyov. Looking 
 a.bout her, she calculated that she had progressed a distance 
 from the Dniester, for the rocks were more scarce, the country 
 more open, there were more hills covered with oak woods, and 
 wide plains often appeared. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Nevertheless, again and again she was obliged to cross ra- 
 vines, and she descended into them with a heart quaking with 
 fear, for down in those depths, it was always pitch dark, with 
 sharp, biting cold. Some of them were so precipitous that 
 she had to make a detour, and consequently, she lost much 
 time and made the journey longer. 
 
 However, it was still worse with streams and rivers, a whole 
 system of which flowed into the Dniester from the east. They 
 Avere all thawed, and the horses snorted with terror as in the 
 night they plunged into waters of unknown depths. Basia 
 only attempted to cross in those places where the shelving 
 bank presupposed that the river, which was wide there, was 
 also shallow. This indeed was generally the case, although, 
 at some of the fords, the water reached nearly up to the 
 horses' bellies; in, such cases, Basia followed the example of 
 soldiers and knelt on the saddle, holding on to the pommel, 
 trying not to wet her feet. However, she was not always suc- 
 cessful in this, and soon her legs up to the knees were numb 
 with cold. 
 
 "God send the day! and then I will ride faster," she cried 
 from time to time. 
 
 At length, she came to a broad plain with a straggling 
 forest, and seeing that the horses could scarcely drag one foot 
 after the other, she halted to rest. They both stretched out 
 their necks to the ground in unison, and stretching out one 
 fore-foot, eagerly began to crop the moss and withered grass. 
 The deep silence of the forest was only broken by the short 
 breath of the horses and the munching of the grass by their 
 strong jaws. 
 
 When they had satisfied, or rather deceived their first 
 hunger, both horses evidently wanted to roll, but Basia 
 could not allow them to do that. She did not care to loosen 
 the girths and dismount, as she wanted to be ready at any 
 moment to resume her flight. 
 
 However, she mounted Azya's horse, because her own had 
 carried her from the last halting-place, and although he was 
 strong, and had noble blood in his veins, yet, he was the 
 more delicate of the two. 
 
 After this arrangement, she felt hungry after the thirst 
 which she had frequently quenched as she crossed the rivers, 
 so she began to eat the seeds she had found in the bag at 
 Azya's saddle-bow. She found them very good, though rather 
 bitter, and eat and thanked God for the unexpected refresh- 
 ment. 
 
P.LY MICHAEL. 
 
 347 
 
 She eat sparingly, however, so that they might last her to 
 Khreptyov. Sleep soon began to weigh down her eyelids with 
 irresistible force, and when she ceased to gain warmth from 
 the motions of the horse, she wae pierced with bitter cold. 
 Her feet became perfectly stiff, and throughout her body she 
 experienced extreme lassitude, particularly in her arms and 
 loins, which were strained in the struggle with Azya. She was 
 attacked by an overwhelming weakness and her eyes closed. 
 
 However, in a few moments, she made a great effort and 
 opened them again. 
 
 "No!" she thought, "I will sleep during the day in the 
 hours of travel, for if I sleep now, I shall be frozen." . . . 
 
 But her ideas became more confused and disordered and 
 produced a fantastic mixture, in which half dream-like, half 
 clear, were jumbled the forest, flight and pursuit, Azya, the 
 little knight, Evka, and all late occurences. All these images 
 seemed to be going like head waves impelled by the wind, and 
 Basia seemed to be keeping pace with them, without either 
 fear or pleasure, as if she were travelling for hire. It seemed 
 as if Azya were pursuing her and speaking to her at the same 
 time, and in anxiety about his horse; Pan Zagloba was scold- 
 ing because supper was getting cold, Michael was showing 
 the way, and Evka was coming on with them in a sleigh, eat- 
 ing dates. 
 
 Then all these people became more and more illusory as 
 though a curtain of mist or gloom had been let down in front 
 of them, and gradually they faded away, and there only re- 
 mained a peculiar kind of darkness, which although impene- 
 trable to the eye, was felt to be entirely void and of illimitable 
 extent. . . This darkness pervaded everything, even Basia.' s 
 mind, and in it blotted out all visions and ideas, as a 
 blast of wind extinguishes a torch in the open air at night. 
 
 Basia had fallen asleep, but luckily for her, before the 
 cold was able to congeal the blood in her veins, she was 
 roused by a strange noise. Suddenly the horse started, and it , 
 was evident that there was some unusual occurence in the 
 forest. 
 
 Basia recovered consciousness in an instant, she seized 
 Azya's musket and leaning down along the horse with strained 
 attention, and dilated nostrils, she listened intently. Her 
 nature was such that danger made her vigilant in a second, 
 and bold and alert for defence. 
 
 But this time after listening long enough she at once be- 
 
34 8 7MY 
 
 came calm. She had been aroused by the grunt of wild 
 \Vliet1ier I lie youii pigs were being stalked by beasts of 
 prey, or old boars were preparing to light, she did not know, 
 hut in a moment the whole wilderness was in an uproar. It 
 was plain that the tumult was some distance away, but in the 
 stillness of the night and the universal drowsiness, it sounded 
 so near, that Basia. not only heard squeals and grunts, but 
 violent breathing through the snouts. Suddenly, there was 
 trampling and crashing and the snapping of broken boughs, 
 and the whole herd rushed close past Basia, though she could 
 not see, and was lost in the depths of the thickets. 
 
 But the irrepressible Basia, in spite of her dreadful situa- 
 tion, immediately felt the hunter-spirit spring up in her 
 heart, and she was sorry at not having seen the herd rush 
 past. 
 
 "One ought to have 'seen it," she reflected, "but never mind. 
 Eiding through the forest like this, I shall be sure to see 
 something yet." . . . 
 
 And not till then did she hurry forward again, recollecting 
 that it was better not to be able to see anything, but to flee 
 at her utmost speed. 
 
 It was impossible to make any longer halt, because the cold 
 was attacking her more sharply, and moreover, the horse's 
 movement kept her comparatively warm, while it was not 
 very fatiguing. But, the horses, who had only had time to 
 nibble a little moss and frozen grass, flagged a good deal, and 
 their heads dropped. When they had halted, they had be- 
 come covered with hoar-frost, and they seemed scarcely able 
 to drag their legs. Moreover, they had kept going ever since 
 the afternoon rest with scarcely a moment to breathe. After 
 crossing the plain, keeping her eyes on the Great Wain in the 
 sky, Basia plunged into the forest, which was not very 
 thick, but hilly and crossed by winding gullies. Here too, it 
 was darker, but only on account of the shade of the over- 
 arching trees, and because the mist was rising from the 
 ground and hiding the stars. She was obliged to take her 
 chance. She only knew that she was going in the right direc- 
 tion by the course of the gullies, for she knew that they all 
 ran westwards towards the Dniester, and by continually cross- 
 ing fresh ones, she must be going northwards. But notwith- 
 standing this help, she thought: "I am constantly in danger 
 of getting too close to the Dniester, or too far away from it. 
 It is dangerous to do either. In the first place, I should be 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 349 
 
 taking a tremendous journey, and in the second, I might find 
 myself at Yampol and fall into the hands of my enemy. 
 
 She had not the slightest idea whether she had yet arrived 
 opposite Yampol, or was on the high ground above it, or had 
 already passed it. 
 
 "It will be easy to tell when I pass Mohilov," she mur- 
 mured, "because it lies in a deep hollow which is very ex- 
 tensive, and so I am likely to recognize it.' 
 
 Then she gazed at the Heavens, and thought: 
 
 "God only grant that I may reach the other side of Mohilov, 
 for that is the beginning of Michael's authority, and I shall 
 not be afraid of anything there. 7 ' . . . 
 
 The night now grew darker. Luckily the forest was car- 
 peted with snow, and she could distinguish the dark trunks 
 of the trees against the white ground, and see the lower 
 branches and avoid them. But Basia was forced to ride more 
 slowly and consequently her heart was again seized with the 
 dread of the unclean powers: which, early in the night, had 
 seemed to turn her blood into ice. 
 
 "If I see fiery eyes near the ground," she said to her terri- 
 fied soul, "that isn't anything; it will be a wolf, but if it is at 
 the height of a man, " , 
 
 At that moment she cried out: 
 
 "In the name of the Father, Son " 
 
 Could it have been a wild-cat sitting on a branch? It is 
 enough that Basia plainly distinguished a pair of flashing 
 eyes at the height of a man's head. 
 
 A cloud came over her eyes in her terror, but as she looked 
 again, she could neither see nor hear anything but the rustle 
 among the boughs, though her heart beat so loudly that it 
 seemed about to break out of her breast. 
 
 And she rode on hour after hour sighing for the dawn, but 
 the night seemed interminable. Presently her path was again 
 barred by a river. Basia was already considerably beyond 
 Yampol, on the bank of the Rosava; but not knowing where 
 she was, she merely thought that if she continued, advancing 
 northwards, she would soon come across a fresh river. She 
 also thought that the night must be nearly passed, because 
 it was sensibly getting colder, and the fog began to be dissi- 
 pated, and the stars to appear, although shining with an un- 
 certain light. 
 
 Finally the gloom began gradually to lighten. The tree- 
 inmks, branches and twigs were becoming visible. The for- 
 est was wrapped in profound silence, and dawn had arrived. 
 
350 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Presently Basia was able to distinguish the color of the 
 horses. At last, through the branches of the trees in the east 
 a bright streak appeared. Day had broken; a bright day. 
 
 Basia's weariness knew no bounds. Her mouth constantly 
 gaped with yawning, and very soon her eyes closed; she did 
 not sleep for long, oecause her head came in contact with a 
 branch and this awoke her. Fortunately, the horses were 
 moving very slowly, cropping the moss as they went, and so 
 it was such a slight blow that it did not hurt her. The sun 
 had now risen, and its pale, beautiful rays were shining 
 through the bare branches. When she saw this, Basia's heart 
 felt comforted. Between her and pursuit she had placed so 
 many steppes, mountains, and ravines; and an entire night. 
 "If I am not captured by men from Yampol, or Mohilov," 
 she murmured, "the others will not come up with me." 
 Moreover, there was another circumstance on which she 
 counted, and that was that when she had first taken flight she 
 had gone over rocky ground where hoofs leave no tracks. 
 But again doubts began to assail her. The Lipkovs can find 
 tracks even on stone, and will doggedly keep up the pursuit 
 till their horses fall dead. 
 
 This last seemed a most likely supposition. It was enough 
 for Basia to look at her own animals; their flanks had fallen 
 in, their heads were drooping, and their eyes were glazed. . 
 As they moved on, they stretched their necks to the ground 
 again and again, to crop the moss as they passed, to snatch 
 at the red leaves which hung withered here and there on the 
 low oak shrubs. Fever also must be attacking Basia, because 
 at every ford, she drank thirstily. 
 
 Nevertheless, when she emerged into an open plain be- 
 tween two forests she urged the tired horses into a gallop and 
 kept it up till they reached the next forest. 
 
 After passing through that she came to another plain still 
 more extensive and hilly; beyond some hills a mile or so 
 away smoke was rising towards the sky as straight as a pine- 
 tree. This was the first inhabited place that Basia had come 
 across as yet, for that region, with the exception of the bank 
 of the river was a desert, or rather it had been turned into a 
 desert not only by Tartar incursions, but by the perpetual 
 Polish-Cossack wars. Since the last campaign of Pan Char- 
 nyetski, before whom Busha fell, the small towns had become 
 shabby settlements and the villages were overgrown with 
 young forests. And since Charnyetski, there had been in- 
 
MICHAEL. 251 
 
 numerable expeditions, battles, and massacres, down to the 
 last in which the great Sobieski had wrested that region from 
 the foe. Signs of habitation were beginning to multiply, only 
 the district through which Basia was fleeing was particularly 
 deserted and only robbers had taken refuge there, though 
 even these had been almost exterminated by the commands 
 stationed at Itashkov > Yampol, and Khreptyov. 
 
 On seeing the smoke, Basia' s first impulse was to ride to- 
 wards it to find a house, or a hut even, or at least, a hearth 
 to warm herself by, and revive. But she quickly reflected that 
 in those parts it was safer to encounter a pack of wolves than 
 man: man there was more savage and pitiless than the wild 
 beasts. Nay, rather was it necessary for her to hasten her 
 horses and pass that forest abode of man as quickly as pos- 
 sible, for there only death could await her. 
 
 On the very edge of the forest opposite, Basia saw a small 
 stack of hay; so at all costs she halted at it to bait her horses. 
 They ate ravenously, thrusting their heads into the hay up to 
 the ears and dragging out big bunches of it. Unfortunately 
 they were greatly hindered by their bits; but Basia did not 
 want to unbridle them, properly reasoning as follows: 
 
 "Where there is smoke there must be a shanty, as there is 
 a stack there must be horses on which they could follow me, 
 so I must be prepared." 
 
 However, she stayed about an hour at the stack so that the 
 horses had a considerable feed, and she ate some seeds herself. 
 Then she moved on and after a few furlongs she suddenly saw 
 in front of her two persons with faggots on their backs. 
 
 One was a middle-aged man with a face pitted with small- 
 pox and cross-eyes, hideous and repellant, with a cruel, bestial 
 face; the other was an idiot youth as was instantly apparent 
 from his silly smile and foolish glance. 
 
 At the sight of an armed cavalier they both cast down their 
 faggots and seemed to be greatly alarmed. But the encounter 
 was so sudden and close that they could not run away. 
 
 "Praise God!" said Basia. 
 
 "For ever and ever." 
 
 "What is the name of this farm?" 
 
 "What should it be? There's the hut." 
 
 "Is it far to Mohilov?" 
 
 "We do not know." 
 
 Here the man began closely to scrutinize Basia's features. 
 On account of her male costume he took her for a youth, and 
 
35 2 . ?M.V MK'HM-IL 
 
 his face instantly assumed an expression of insolence and 
 cruelty in place of his late alarm. 
 
 "How is it that you are so young, Pan Cavalier?" 
 
 "What business is that of yours?" 
 
 "And are you travelling alone?" the peasant inquired, ad- 
 vancing a step. 
 
 "Troops accompany me." 
 
 He paused and looked over the extensive plain and replied: 
 
 "Untrue. There's nobody." 
 
 Then he took two steps forward; his cross eyes glittered 
 with a sinister light and he pursed his lips and began to 
 imitate the cry of a quail, evidently as a summons to some- 
 body. 
 
 All this looked very hostile to Basia and she unhesitatingly 
 levelled a pistol at his heart: 
 
 "Silence ! or thou shalt perish." 
 
 The man ceased and moreover cast himself on the ground. 
 The idiot followed his example and began to howl like a wolf 
 with terror; perhaps he had originally lost his reason from a 
 similar feeling for his howls spoke most awful terror. 
 
 Basia pulled up her horses arid sprang forward like an 
 arrow. Luckily there was no underwood in that forest and 
 the trees were wide apart. They soon came to another plain 
 that was narrow but very long. The horses had gained new 
 strength from their meal at the stack and rushed on like the 
 tempest. 
 
 "They will run home, mount, and chase me!" thought 
 Basia. 
 
 Her only comfort was that the horses were going well and 
 that the spot where she had met the man was a good way 
 from the house. 
 
 "Before they can reach it and get the horses out at this 
 rate I shall be several miles ahead." 
 
 This was the case, but after some hours, when she was satis- 
 fied that she was not being followed, Basia slackened her 
 pace, her heart was assailed with great fear and depression 
 and she could not restrain her tears. 
 
 The encounter taught her what the people of those parts 
 were and what was to be expected from them. It is true that 
 this was no surprise. From her own experience and the tales 
 she had heard at Khreptyov she knew that the former peace- 
 ful dwellers had left these wilds, or had been swallowed up in 
 the war; those who were left lived in perpetual dread amidst 
 
PAX MTriJAEL. 353 
 
 civil strife and Tartar assault, under conditions where one 
 man to another is like a wolf; they were living without 
 churches or religion, without any principle but fire and 
 slaughter, without recognizing any right but that of the fist; 
 they had lost all feelings of humanity and grown wild like 
 the beasts of the field. Basia was well aware of -this; and yet 
 a human being, lost in the wilderness, famished with hunger 
 and cold involuntarily turns for assistance to kindred beings 
 first of all. Basia did so at the sight of 'the smoke that re- 
 vealed a human habitation; following the first natural impulse 
 of her heart she wanted to hasten to it, greet the tenants in 
 the name of God, and rest her wearied head beneath their 
 roof. But grim reality quickly bared its teeth at her like a 
 savage dog. So her heart was full of bitterness and her eyes 
 of sorrow and disappointment. 
 
 "No help but from God/' she thought. "I pray that no 
 person meet me again." 
 
 Then she began to wonder why the peasant had imitated a 
 quail. "There must certainly be others there and he wanted 
 to call them." She remembered that robbers dwelt in that 
 _ district, having been driven out of the fastnesses near the 
 river and taking to the wilds deeper in the country where the 
 neighborhood of the wide steppes insured greater safety and 
 easier escape at need. 
 
 "But what will happen?" Basia asked herself, if I encounter 
 a number of men, or more than a dozen? The musket, 
 that's one; two pistols, two; a sabre, say two more; but if 
 if there are more than that I shall die a horrible death." 
 
 And as during the terrors of the previous night she had 
 longed for day to come as quickly as possible, so now she 
 longed for darkness to hide her more effectually from evil 
 eyes. 
 
 Twice again as she rode on ceaselessly she seemed to be in 
 the vicinity of people. Once she caught sight of a number of 
 huts on the edge of the plateau. Perhaps professional robbers 
 did not dwell there., but she preferred to pass by at a gallop, 
 knowing that even peasants are not much better than robbers; 
 on another occasion she heard the sound of axes cutting 
 wood. 
 
 The longed-for night at last shrouded the earth. Basia was 
 so worn out that when she came to a bare steppe free from 
 woods she said to herself: 
 
 ; 'I shan't be crushed against a tree here. I will get some 
 sleep at once, even if 1 
 S3 
 
354 
 
 As .she closed her eyes she fancied iluil in the distance on 
 the white snow she saw a number of black dots moving about 
 in various directions. For a little longer .she mastered her 
 drowsiness. "Surely those must be wolves!" she murmured. 
 
 Before she had gone many paces the dots disappeared and 
 then she fell asleep so soundly that she did not awake till 
 Azya's horse, on which she was mounted, neighed under her. 
 
 She gazed around; s'he was on the edge of a forest; if she 
 had not woke in time she might have been crushed against 
 a tree. 
 
 Suddenly she noticed that the other horse was not by her 
 side. 
 
 "What has happened?" she cried in great alarm. 
 
 What had happened was very simple. It is true that Basia 
 had tied the reins of her pony to the pommel of the saddle 
 on which -she was sitting; but her numbed hands had not 
 served her well and she had not been able to tie them firmly; 
 they had slipped off and the tired horse had stopped to st-ek 
 food beneath the snow, or to lie down. 
 
 Fortunately Basia's pistol was in her girdle instead of her 
 holster, she had also with her the powder-horn and the bag 
 with the rest of the seeds. And lastly the calamity was not 
 overwhelming because though Azya's horse was not so speedy 
 as her own, yet he was undoubtedly superior in the matter 
 of enduring cold and labor. But Basia was grieved about her 
 favorite horse and her first impulse was to search for him. 
 
 When she looked around the steppe, however, and could 
 see nothing of him, though the night was unusually bright, 
 she was greatly surprised. 
 
 He has surely stayed behind," she thought,, "and not gone 
 ahead; but he must have lain down in some hollow and that 
 is the reason that I cannot see him." 
 
 Her horse neighed again, shaking himself, and laying his 
 ears back; but no answer came from the silent steppe. 
 
 "I will go and find him," said Basia. 
 
 But as she turned she was seized with sudden alarm, and 
 it sounded as if a human voice exclaimed: 
 
 "Basia, do not return !" 
 
 At that instant the silence was broken by other and ill- 
 omened voices close by and seeming to come from beneath the 
 earth, howling, snorting, whining and groaning, and at last 
 a horrible squeal, short and interrupted. . . . Tt was all 
 the more terrifying because nothing was visible on the steppe. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 355 
 
 Basia broke out into cold sweat from head to foot, and from 
 her pale lips escaped the cry: 
 
 "What is that ? What has happened ?" 
 
 Of course she guessed at once that wolves had killed her 
 horse, but she could not understand why she did not see him 
 since, to judge by the sounds, he was only five hundred yards 
 behind. 
 
 There was no 'time to spring to his rescue, for the horse 
 must be already torn to pieces, and besides she had to think 
 of her own safety. Basia fired her pistol to scare the wolves 
 and went on. 
 
 As she went she meditated on what had happened, and 
 presently the thought struck her that perhaps it was not the 
 wolves who had taken her horse, because those voices seemed 
 to come from beneath the earth. At this thought a cold 
 shiver ran down her back, but weighing the affair more care- 
 fully she remembered that while asleep she had seemed to be 
 descending and then rising again. 
 
 "That must be it," she exclaimed, "in my sleep I must have 
 crossed some not very precipitous ravine. My horse stayed 
 there and there the wolves fell upon him." 
 
 The rest of the night passed without further adventure. 
 Having had the hay to eat in the morning the horse kept on 
 with wonderful endurance till Basia herself was amazed at 
 his power. He was a Tartar horse, a wolf-hunter of noble 
 blood and quite unlimited endurance. During the brief halts 
 that Basia allowed him he nibbled everything, moss and leaves 
 without distinction, and even gnawed the bark of trees and 
 then went on and on. Basia pressed him into a gallop on 
 the plains. After a time he began to groan occasionally and 
 his labored breathing could be plainly heard when he was 
 reined in; he panted and trembled and hung his head low 
 with weariness, but he did not fall. Even if her own. horse 
 had not died under the teeth of the wolves he could not have 
 stood such a journey. 
 
 After saying her prayers the next morning Basia began to 
 count the time. 
 
 "I broke away from Azya on Tuesday afternoon," she re- 
 flected. "I galloped till night; then the night was spent on 
 the road and then a whole day, then another whole night, and 
 this is the commencement of the third day. Even if there was 
 a pursuit it must already have turned back and Khreptyov 
 should be near, for I have not spared the horses." 
 
 Presently she added: 
 
356 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "It is time; it is time! God have merc'y upon me!" 
 
 Now and then she felt a desire to approach 'the Dniester, 
 for on the bank it would be easier to tell where she was, but 
 when she remembered that fifty of Azya's Lipkovs had re- 
 mained at Mohilov with Pan Gorzenski, she feared to do so. 
 She thought that as she had made such a detour perhaps she 
 had not yet passed Mohilov. On the way so long as sleep had 
 not weighed down her eyelids it is true that she had tried care- 
 fully to notice if she came across a very broad valley like the 
 one in which Mohilov was situated, but she had not seen 
 such a place. However, the valley might grow narrower and 
 quite different to what it was at Mohiloy and might come to 
 an end farther in, or considerably narrowed at some furlongs 
 beyond the town; in short, Basia had not the slightest idea 
 where she was. 
 
 Only she ceaselessly prayed to God that Khreptyov might 
 not be far away, for she felt that she could not much longer 
 endure toil, hunger, cold, and loss of sleep. For three days 
 she had lived on seeds alone, and though she had husbanded 
 them most carefully, yet she had eaten the last grain that 
 morning and there was nothing left in the bag. 
 
 Now she could only feed and warm herself with the hope 
 that Khreptyov was near. Besides hope, fever was keeping 
 her warm. Basia was sure that she had a fever because, 
 although the air was becoming colder and was even freezing, 
 her feet and hands were now as hot as she had been cold at 
 the commencement of her flight; she was also greatly tor- 
 mented with thirst. 
 
 "Only let me not lose my presence of mind," she said to 
 herself; "let me reach Khreptyov even with my last breath 
 and see Michael, and then God's will be done." . . . 
 
 She was again forced to cross several streams and rivers, 
 but they were either shallow or frozen; on some waters was 
 flowing above the surface of firm and strong ice. These she 
 dreaded more than any because, though the horse was brave, 
 he evidently feared them. When he went into the water or 
 upon the ice he would snort and prick his ears forward and 
 sometimes balk, and when urged he moved warily, slowly 
 putting one foot before the other and snorting with wide nos- 
 trils. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when Basia issued from a dense 
 pine wood and halted before a river considerably larger and 
 wider than usual. According to her reckoning this must be 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 357 
 
 the Lodova or the Kalusik. Her heart beat joyfully at the 
 sight of it. In either case Khreptyov must be near; once 
 having passed it she might consider herself safe, because that 
 district was more populated and the people less to be dreaded. 
 The banks of the river were precipitous as far as the eye could 
 see; it shelved only in one place where the water, damned up 
 by the ice, had flooded the bank, looking like water in a broad, 
 shallow vessel. The margin was quite frozen, but a wide 
 stream of water was flowing in the centre, though Basia hoped 
 to find the usual ice beneath it. 
 
 The horse entered with some unwillingness as at other 
 crossings, with lowered head and snuffing at the snow in front 
 of him. When she reached the running water Basia knelt on 
 the saddle as usual, and held on to the pommel with both 
 hands. 
 
 The water splashed under his hoofs. The ice was quite 
 flrm and like stone under him. But evidently the shoes had 
 lost their sharpness on the long road parts of which had been 
 rocky, as the horse began to slip and his feet to spread as if 
 flying from under him. Suddenly he stumbled and his nos- 
 trils entered the water; then he rose and fell on his haunches; 
 he rose again, but was now frightened and began to kick and 
 plunge. Basia pulled at the reins and at the same moment a 
 dull crack was heard and the horse's hind legs sank through 
 the ice up to his haunches. 
 
 "Jesus, Jesus!" cried Basia. 
 
 The animal with his fore legs still on firm ice was making 
 desperate efforts, but evidently the fragment on which he 
 was resting began to move from under his feet, for he sank 
 deeper and began to emit hoarse sounds. 
 
 Basia still had the time and presence of mind to grasp his 
 mane and gain the solid ice in front of him. She fell, and 
 was soaked by the water, but gained and felt it firm under 
 her feet and knew that she was saved. She wanted to save 
 the horse, so leaned forward and caught the reins and pulled 
 with all her power towards the bank. 
 
 But the horse sank deeper and could not even free his fore 
 feet to reach the stationary ice. The more she dragged at 
 the reins the deeper he sank. He began to utter sounds that 
 were almost human while baring his teeth; he gazed at Basia 
 with indescribable sadness in his eyes as if trying to say io 
 her: "There is no rescue for me; drop the reins before I drag 
 thee in too!" 
 
35 g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 In truth there was no rescue for him, and at last Basia had 
 to let go the reins. 
 
 At last he was so deep in the water that only his neck and 
 mouth remained above the ice. 
 
 When the horse had disappeared beneath the ice she went 
 to the bank and sat down under a leafless bush and iobbed 
 like a child. 
 
 For the moment her spirit was entirely broken. Moreover 
 the pain and bitterness she had experienced after meeting with 
 people now filled her heart with still greater intensity. Every- 
 thing was against her; unknown roads, darkness, the ele- 
 ments, men, and beasts. The hand of God alone had seemed 
 to protect her. In that loving paternal care she had put all 
 her childlike trust; but now even that had failed her. Basia 
 had not expressed this feeling in such plain words, but never- 
 theless in her heart she felt it strongly. 
 
 "What was left for her?" Tears and complaint! And yet 
 she had exhibited all the valor, and courage, and fortitude 
 that it was possible for such a poor weak creature to show. 
 Now behold, her horse, her last hope of salvation, her last 
 chance of rescue, the sole living creature with her, wa.s 
 drowned! Deprived of that horse she felt helpless in face of 
 the unknown distance between her and Khreptyov; and in 
 face of the pine woods, ravines, and steppes; not merely with- 
 out defence against the pursuit of man, but more lonely and 
 deserted than ever. 
 
 She wept till her tears were exhausted. Then followed ex- 
 haustion, weariness, and such an utter sense of helplessness 
 that it was almost akin to rest. 
 
 She sighed deeply once and again and cried: 
 
 "I am powerless against the will of God. I will die where 
 I am!" 
 
 And she closed those eyes that were once so bright and joj- 
 ous, but now so hollow and sunken. 
 
 Although she was growing more physically helpless every 
 moment, yet thought throbbed in her brain like a frightened 
 bird, and her heart also. If nobody in the world loved her she 
 could die with less regret, but everybody loved her so much. 
 
 And she pictured to herself what would happen when 
 Azya's treachery and treason were known; how they would 
 search for her and at last find her, blue, frozen, and sleeping 
 her eternal sleep under a bush by the river. Suddenly she 
 cried out: 
 
MICHAEL. *~g 
 
 "Ah, \yhat will be poor Michael's despair! Ah! ah!" 
 
 Then she prayed to him, saying that it was not her fault. 
 
 "Michael, dear," she said, as she put her arms around his 
 neck in fancy, "I did everything in my power, but it was 
 hard, dear. It was not the will of the Lord God." 
 
 And at that moment she felt such an overwhelming rush 
 of love for Michael and such a desire even to die near her be- 
 loved that she summoned the last of her forces and rose from 
 the bank and struggled onwards. 
 
 It was extremely difficult at first. During the long ride hei- 
 feet had become unused to walking and she felt as if she were 
 walking on, stilts. Fortunately she was not cold; indeed she 
 was quite warm enough, as the fever had never left for a 
 moment. . 
 
 Plunging into the forest she kept on resolutely remember- 
 ing to keep the sun on her left. In fact it had now gone 
 round to the Moldavian side, for it was afternoon, perhaps 
 four o'clock. Basia now did not so much mind approaching 
 the Dniester, for she was satisfied that she was beyond 
 Mohilov. 
 
 "If I were only certain of it; if I knew it!" she exclaimed, 
 raising her bine and inflamed face towards the sky. "If only 
 some animal or tree would speak and say, It is a mile to 
 Khreptyov, or two miles,' I might perhaps reach there." 
 
 But the trees were silent; indeed they seemed hostile and 
 to be obstructing the road with their roots. Basia frequently 
 stumbled against these gnarled, knotted and snow-covered 
 roots. Presently she felt unendurably burdened, so she cast 
 the warm mantle from her shoulders and was left with her 
 single jacket. Thus relieved she walked on and on with in- 
 creasing haste, sometimes stumbling and falling in the deep 
 snow. Her fur-lined, saffian boots, excellent for the sleigh or 
 horseback, were very little protection to her feet against the 
 stonea or stumps, and having been repeatedly soaked in ford- 
 ing and kept damp by the feverish heat of her feet, they easily 
 got torn in the forest. 
 
 "I will go barefoot to Khreptyov, or to death!" Basia 
 thought. 
 
 And a sad smile illumined her tiny face, for it was some 
 solace to her to keep on with such endurance so that if she 
 should be frozen on the way Michael would have nothing to 
 reproach her memory with. So now she kept continually 
 talking to her husband and once she said: 
 
360 ? AN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Ah, Michael, dear! another would not have done so much: 
 Evka, for example." . . . 
 
 More than once she had thought of Eva during her flight, 
 and more than once she had prayed for her. It was clear to 
 her now, knowing 'that Azya did not love the maiden, her fate, 
 in common with all the other prisoners in Rashkov, would be 
 a dreadful one. 
 
 "It is worse for them than for me," she kept telling herself, 
 and the thought gave her fresh courage. 
 
 But when three hours had passed her strength began to 
 fail more with every step. The sun gradually sank behind the 
 Dniester and disappeared in a rosy glow, leaving violet reflec- 
 tions on the snow. Then the twilight abyss of gold and purple 
 began to darken and contract momentarily; from a sea that 
 covered half the heavens it narrowed to a lake, from a lake to 
 a river, from a river to a brook, and at last gleaming like a 
 thread of light across the west it gave place to darkness. 
 
 Night fell. . 
 
 Another hour passed. The pine wood became black and 
 mysterious; but, not stirred by the least 'breath, it seemed to 
 be pondering what it should do with that poor, strayed creat- 
 ure. There was nothing good in that stillness and torpor, but 
 rather heartlessness and insensibility. 
 
 Basia kept on without ceasing, panting through her parched 
 lips more rapidly as she went; she also fell more often now 
 that darkness had come, and she was weaker. 
 
 She kept her face 'turned upwards, but not 'to look for the 
 Great Wain, for she had lost all idea of her position. She 
 gazed where she wanted to go; because bright and sweet 
 visions of death were beginning to hover about her. 
 
 For example, the four sides of the wood seemed to approach 
 one another quickly and form a room, 'the room at Khrept- 
 yov. Basia is there and sees everything clearly. A great fire 
 is burning on the hearth and officers are sitting on the 
 benches as usual: Pan Zagloba is jesting with Pan Snitko; 
 Pan Motovidlo is silently gazing into the flames, and when 
 anything hisses in the fire he exclaims in his drawling tones, 
 "Oh, soul in purgatory, what wilt thou?" Pan Mushalski and 
 Pan Khromyka are casting dice with Michael. Basia ap- 
 proaches them and says: "Michael dear, I will sit on the bench 
 and nestle up beside you a little, for I am not myself." Michael 
 passes his arm around her. "What is the matter, kitten? Is 
 it? . And he bends his head down to her ear and 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 36 r 
 
 whispers something. But she answers, "Ah, how unlike my- 
 self I feel!" What a bright and peaceful room that is and 
 how dear that Michael is! But somehow Basia is not herself 
 at all and fear takes hold of her. 
 
 Basia is so far from being herself that the fever has sud- 
 denly left her, for the weakness that comes before death has 
 vanquished it. The visions vanish; presence of mind returns 
 and memory with it. 
 
 "I am fleeing from Azya," said Basia to herself; "I am in 
 the forest at night. I cannot reach Khreptyov. I am dying." 
 
 After the fever has departed cold quickly seizes upon her 
 and pierces her body to the bone. Her legs bend under her, 
 and at last she kneels in the snow before a tree. 
 
 Her mind is not obscured by the least cloud now. She is 
 bitterly grieved at losing her life, but she is perfectly well 
 aware that she is dying, and, -to commend her soul to God, 
 she is beginning to say in broken tones: 
 
 "In the name of the Fa.ther, and the Son, " 
 
 Further prayer is suddenly interrupted by certain strange, 
 sharp, shrill, squeaking sounds; they are grating and piercing 
 in the silence of the night. 
 
 Basia opens her mouth. The question, "What is that?" dies 
 on her lips. For an instant she covers her face with her 
 trembling hands as if unwilling to believe her ears, and a sud- 
 den shriek escapes her lips: 
 
 "0 Jesus, Jesus! Those are the well-sweeps; that is 
 Khreptyov! Jesus! 
 
 Then this creature who was dying a moment ago now 
 springs up panting and trembling, with eyes full of tears and 
 with heaving bosom runs through the forest, falling, and ris- 
 ing again as she repeats: 
 
 "They are watering the horses there! That is Khreptyov! 
 Those are our well-sweeps! To the gate, to the gate! 
 Jesus! Khreptyov. . . Khreptyov!" . . . 
 
 But here the trees grow wider apart, the fields of snow open 
 to the view and the slope with them, from which many gleam- 
 ing eyes are gazing at the running Basia. 
 
 But these were not the eyes of wolves; they were the win- 
 dows of Khrep-tyov shining with sweet, bright, saving light! 
 There on the mound is the fort where its eastern side faces the 
 forest. 
 
 There was some distance to go, but Basia was unconscious 
 of accomplishing it. The soldiers at the gate on the side of 
 
362 ^i-V MICHAEL. 
 
 the village did not recognize her in the darkness, but ad- 
 mitted her, thinking her some hoy sent (-11 an errand and re- 
 turning to the commander. She clashed in the midst with her 
 last remaining breath, ran across the square past the wells, 
 where the dragoons who had just before returned from a re- 
 connaissance had watered their horses, and stopped at the 
 door of the main building. 
 
 Just then the little knight and Zagloba were sitting on a 
 bench before the fire and drinking krupnik. They were talk- 
 ing about Basia, thinking her over there in Rashkov arranging 
 matters. They were both sad, for it was dreadfully dreary 
 without her and every day they talked about when she would 
 be back. 
 
 "God prevent sudden rains, thaws, and freshets. If any 
 of them come He alone knows when she will be back," said 
 Zagloba gloomily. 
 
 "The winter will last some time yet," said the little knight; 
 "and in eight or ten days I shall be looking every hour in 
 the direction of Mohilov for her." 
 
 "I wish she hadn't gone. There is nothing for me here in 
 Khreptyov without her." 
 
 "But why did you advise it?" 
 
 "Don't fabricate, Michael! It occurred with your con- 
 sent." . . . 
 
 "If she only returns in good health." 
 
 Here the little knight sighed and added: 
 
 "In good health and very soon!" 
 
 At that the door creaked and a tiny, pitiful, tattered creat- 
 ure, covered with snow, began to cry plaintively on the thresh- 
 old: 
 
 "Michael dear! Michael dear!" 
 
 The little knight sprang to his feet, but for a moment was 
 so amazed that he stood still as though turned to stone; he 
 stretched out his arms and blinked and stood still. 
 
 ' Michael! Azya, was treacherous, he wanted to carry me 
 off; but I lied, and help!" 
 
 As she ended she tottered and fell on the floor as if dead; 
 Pan Michael sprang forward and lifted her in his arms as if 
 she had been a feather, and cried in a shrill voice: 
 
 "Merciful Christ!" 
 
 But her poor little head hung lifeless on his shoulder. 
 Thinking that it was only a corpse that he held in his .arms 
 he began to cry in a horrible voice: 
 
 "Basia is dead! dead! Help!" 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The news of Basia's arrrival flashed through Kreptyov like 
 lightning, but no one saw her that evening, or for several 
 evenings, except the little knight, Pan Zagloba, and tne fe- 
 male attendants. After fainting on the threshold, she re- 
 covered her senses, to tell him in a few words what had hap- 
 pened, and how; but a fresh fainting-fit quickly followed, 
 and though they used every means to revive her, warming her, 
 giving her wine, and trying to give her nourishment, by an 
 hour later she did not even recognize her husband, and there 
 was no doubt that she was in for a long and dangerous illness. 
 
 Meanwhile there was great excitement in Khreptyov. 
 When the soldiers heard that the mistress had come back 
 half-dead, they rushed out into the square like a swarm of 
 bees. All the officers gathered together in the lighted hall 
 and with low whispering impatiently awaited news from 
 Basia's room. However, it was impossible to learn anything 
 for a long time. It is true that occasionally a maid would 
 hurry past to the kitchen for hot water, or to the dispensary 
 for plasters, ointments, and herbs, but they would not let 
 anyone stop them. Anxiety weighed over every heart like 
 lead. Crowds even from the village collected in increasing 
 numbers upon the square and questions passed from lip to 
 lip. Azya's treason was discussed and it was said that the 
 mistress had saved herself by flight, which had lasted a 
 whole week without either food or sleep. The assembled sol- 
 diers were last seized with terrible fury, but they suppressed 
 their indignation, fearing lest the health of the patient might 
 suffer. 
 
 At length, after a long wait, Pan Zagloba went out to the 
 officers with his eyes red, and his few remaining hairs stand- 
 ing upright on his head; they thronged around him and at 
 once besieged him with urgent questions in low tones. 
 
 "Is she alive? Is she alive?" 
 
 "She is alive/' said the old mam, "but God knows whether 
 for an hour longer," 
 
 (3*3) 
 
364 rAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Here his voice was choked and his lips quivered. Putting 
 his head in his hands, he sank heavily on the bench and his 
 breast heaved with suppressed sobs. 
 
 When he saw this, Pan Mushalski caught Pan Nyenashin- 
 yets in his embrace, though usually he did not care much for 
 him, and began to utter low moans, in which he was imme- 
 diately joined by Pan Nyenashinyets. Pan Motovidlo looked 
 as if he was trying to swallow something and could not; Pan 
 Snitko began to unbutton his coat with trembling fingers; 
 Pan Khromyka began to walk up and down the room wring- 
 ing his 'hands. 
 
 The soldiers seeing these signs of despair through <the 
 windows and supposing that the lady was 'already dead, were 
 greatly agitated and began to utter lamentations. When he 
 heard this, Zagloba became furious and darted out into the 
 square like a stane from a sling. 
 
 "Silence, you rogues, may the thunderbolt strike you/' he 
 cried in suppressed tones. 
 
 They were silent immediately, comprehending that it was 
 not yet time to lament, but they stayed in the square. Za- 
 globa returned to the room and somewhat quieted down and 
 again took a seat on the bench. 
 
 At that moment one o* he maids again appeared at the 
 door of the room. 
 
 Zagloba sprang toward her, 
 
 "How is it in there?" 
 
 "She is asleep." 
 
 "Is she asleep? God be praised." 
 
 "Perhaps the Lord will grant. . . . ** 
 
 "What is the Pan Commandant doing P 
 
 "He is at her bedside." 
 
 "That is well. Now go after what you were sort or." 
 
 Zagloba turned to the officers and repeated vhat she had 
 said, crying: 
 
 "May the Most High God have mercy! she is asleep: I am 
 begining to be hopeful. . . . Phew!" 
 
 And they also all drew a long breath. Then they collected 
 about Zagloba in a ring and began to ask: 
 
 "For God's sake how did it happen? What happened 5 
 How did she escape on foot?" 
 
 "She did not escape on foot, at first," whispered Zagloba^ 
 "but with two horses, for she threw that dog may the plagu 
 slay him! from his saddle," 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 365 
 
 "I can't believe my ears! . . 
 
 "She struck him between the eyes with the butt of a pistol, 
 and as they were some distance behind the others, there was 
 no one to see and pursue. One horse was eaten by wolves, 
 and the other was drowned under the ice. Merciful Christ! 
 the poor thing went through the forests alone, without food 
 or drink." 
 
 Here Pan Zagloba again burst into tears and interrupted 
 his tale. The officers also sat down on the benches in wonder 
 and horror and pity for the woman they all loved. 
 
 "When she arrived in the neighborhood of Khreptyov," 
 Zagloba presently continued, "she did not recognize the place 
 and was making ready to die when she heard the creaking 
 of the well-sweeps, and knew that she was close to us and 
 dragged herself home with her last breath." 
 
 "God guarded her in her extremity," said Motovidlo, as he 
 wiped his wet moustache. "He will still guard her." 
 
 "It will be so, you have hit the mark," whispered many 
 voices. 
 
 At that moment, a louder noise reached them from the 
 square. Zagloba again sprang up in fury and rushed out of 
 the door. 
 
 In the square, the soldiers all had their heads together, 
 but when they saw Zagloba and two other officers, they fell 
 back into a semi-circle. 
 
 "Be quiet, you souls of dogs, began Zagloba, or I'll 
 order" 
 
 But from the semicircle advanced Zydor Lusnia, a sar- 
 geant of dragroons, a real Mazovian, 'one of Pan Michael's 
 favorite troopers. He took a couple of steps forward, straight- 
 ened himself, and said in determined tones: 
 
 "I beg of your lordship, since such a son has injured our 
 lady, that we may seek him and take vengeance; it cannot be 
 otherwise. What I say, all ask, and if the Colonel cannot go, 
 we will go under other leadership, even to the Crimea itself, 
 to capture him, we will not spare him, because of the wrong 
 done to our lady." 
 
 The cold, determined menace of a peasant sounded in the 
 sargeant's voice; other dragoons and servants of the accom- 
 panying squadrons began to grind their teeth, rattle their 
 sabres, and mutter. That deep muttering, like the growling 
 of a bear at night, had something terrible in it. 
 
 The officer stood erect, awaiting an answer, and whole 
 
366 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 ranks of dragoons and fellow-officers with him, and they ex- 
 hibited such evidences of fury and determination as entirely 
 to suspend ordinary discipline for the time being. 
 
 For a time there was silence, suddenly a voice in one of the 
 rear ranks was heard. 
 
 "That man's blood is the best medicine for the mistress." 
 
 Zagloba's anger evaporated, for he was touched by the 
 soldiers' affection for Basia, and, at the mention of medicine, 
 another idea struck him, namely, to send for a doctor for 
 Basia. In the first few moments no one had thought of a 
 doctor in that wild Khreptyov, although there were several 
 in Kamenets, among others, a certain Greek, a celebrated 
 man, who was rich, and owned several stone houses, and 
 was so learned that everybody regarded him as being skillful 
 in the black art. But there was some doubt whether he, 
 being so rich, would be willing to come to such a desert at 
 any price, being a man whom even high dignitaries honored. 
 
 Zagloba reflected for a few moments and then said: 
 
 "Fitting vengeance shall not fail that arch-dog, that I 
 promise you, and it would be better for him for the king to 
 vow vengeance on him than Zagloba. But we do not yet 
 know whether he is still alive, for when the lady wrenched 
 herself out of his hands, she struck him right in the brain 
 with the butt of her pistol. But this is no time to think 
 of him, we must first save the lady." 
 
 "We would be glad to do that, even with our own lives," 
 Lusnia replied. 
 
 And a muttering again arose from the crowd in support 
 of his words. 
 
 "Listen to me, Lusnia," said Zagloba. "In Kamenets lives 
 a doctor, named Eodopol. You shall go to him and tell him 
 that the starosta of Podolia has sprained his leg here and 
 is waiting for aid. If he is outside the walls, seize him, put 
 him upon a horse, or into a sack, and bring him to Khreptyov 
 without stopping. I will order horses to be stationed at short 
 distances apart, and you will go at a gallop. Only be careful 
 to bring him alive, for we have no use for the dead." 
 
 A murmur of satisfaction was heard on all sides. Lusnia's 
 grim moustache moved, as he said: 
 
 "I will surely bring him and will not let him go till we get 
 to Khreptyov." 
 
 "Forward." 
 
 "I beg your lordship " 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "What more?" 
 
 "But if he should die?" 
 
 "Let him drop, but he must get here alive. Take six men 
 and set out/ 5 
 
 Lusnia started off. The others were glad to do anything 
 for the lady and ran to saddle the horses, and in a few Paters, 
 six men were galloping to Kamenets. After them some of 
 the others took spare horses, to station along the road. 
 
 Zagloba returned to the house with great self-satisfaction. 
 
 Presently, Volodiyovski came out of the bed-room, greatly 
 altered, scarcely conscious and heedless of words of sympathy 
 and consolation. After telling Zagloba that Basia was still 
 sleeping, he sank down on the bench and gazed vacantly at 
 the door beyond which she was lying. To the officers he 
 looked as if he was listening, so they all held their breath and 
 a dead silence fell on the rocm. 
 
 Presenly, Zagloba approached the little knight on tip-toe. 
 
 "Michael, I have sent to Kamenets for a doctor, but per- 
 haps it would be well to send for someone else." 
 
 Pan Michael seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts 
 and apparently did not understand. 
 
 "For a priest!" said Zagloba, "Father Kaminski might get 
 here by the morning." 
 
 The little knight closed his eyes and turned his face, which 
 was as white as a sheet, towards the fire, and said, in hurried 
 accents: 
 
 "Jesus, Jesus!" 
 
 Zagloba said no more, but went out and gave orders. When 
 he returned, Pan Michael was gone. The officers told Za- 
 globa that the sick woman had called her husband, whether 
 in .consciousness or delirium, they could not tell. 
 
 The old noble, by personal inspection, soon satisfied him- 
 self that it was in delirium. 
 
 Basia's cheeks were scarlet, her eyes, though glittering, 
 were sightless, as if the pupils had run into the white. Her 
 pale hands seemed to be trying to find something in front 
 of her on the coverlet with vague movements. Pan Michael, 
 only half-alive, was lying at her feet. 
 
 From time to time the sick woman muttered in low tones, 
 or uttered disjointed phrases more loudly, among which 
 Khreptyov was most frequently heard; it was evident that 
 she thought she was still on the road. The ceaseless move- 
 ments of her hands on the coverlet was the most disturbing 
 
3 6fc PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 thing to Zagloba, for in its unconscious repetition he recog- 
 nized the signs of approaching death. He had had great 
 experience and many people had died in his presence, but his 
 heart had never been torn with such grief as at the sight of 
 this litle blossom withering so early. 
 
 Eealizing that only God could save tha ebbing life, he knelt 
 beside the bed, and began to pray fervently. 
 
 Meanwhile, Basia's breathing grew more labored and grad- 
 ually changed to a rattle. Pan Michael sprang up from 
 her feet and Zagloba rose from his knees. Neither uttered 
 a word to the other, but simply gazed into each other's eyes, 
 and there was terror in that gaze. They thought that it was 
 her death agony, but only for a few moments, her breathing 
 soon became easier and more measured. 
 
 From that moment they lived between fear and hope. The 
 night slowly dragged along. The officers did not go to rest 
 either but sat in the hall, alternately gazing at the bed- 
 room door, whispering among themselves, and dozing. From 
 time to time a boy came in to put wood oil the hearth and 
 at every movement of the latch they sprang from the bench, 
 thinking that Michael or Zagloba was coming in, and that 
 they would hear the dreadful words: 
 
 "She no longer lives." 
 
 At last the cocks began to crow, and she was still wrestling 
 with the fever. Towards morning, a fierce rain-storm broke, 
 roaring among the rafters and howling round the roof. Some- 
 times it beat on to the hearth, driving the names with smoke 
 and sparks into the room. About dawn, Pan Motovidlo 
 went out, for he had to make a reconaissance. At last day 
 broke, pale and cloudy, and illumined worn faces. 
 
 On the place-of-arms, the usual movement commenced. 
 In the whistling of the storm were heard the stir of horses 
 on the stable planks, the creaking of the well-sweeps and the 
 voices of the soldiers, but soon a bell was heard: Father 
 Kaminski had arrived. 
 
 As he entered in his white surplice the officers fell on 
 their knees. It seemed to them all that the solemn moment 
 had arrived which would surely be followed by death. The 
 sick woman had not regained consciousness, so that the priest 
 could not hear her confession He only administered Ex- 
 treme Unction, and then began to reason with and comfort 
 the little knight, urging him to yield to the will of God. But 
 his consolations had no effect, for no words could assuage 
 his suffering. 
 
PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 Death hovered over Basia for a whole day. Like a spider, 
 secreted in some dark corner of the ceiling, which sometimes 
 creeps into the light, and lowers itself on an invisible thread, 
 so at times, death seemed to come almost down to Basia's 
 head and more than once the watchers thought that his 
 shadow was falling on her brow, and that that bright spirit 
 was just spreading its wings to fly away out of Khreptyov, 
 somewhere into the limitless expanse on the other side of 
 life. Then, like a spider, death again hid away under the 
 ceiling and hope filled their hearts. 
 
 But this was merely an insufficient and passing hope, for 
 no one ventured to believe that Basda could survive the 
 sickness. Volodiyovski, himself, had lost all hope of her 
 recovery and his suffering became so great that Pan Zagloba, 
 though in extreme anguish himself, became alarmed and 
 gave him to the care of the officers. 
 
 "For God's sake watch him!" said the old man, "he may 
 plunge a knife into his body." 
 
 This idea did not occur to Pan Michael, although in his 
 extreme grief and suffering he incessantly asked himself: 
 
 "How am I to remain when she goes? How can I let my 
 beloved go alone? what will she say when she looks round 
 and does not find me near her?" 
 
 At these reflections, he longed with his whole soul to die 
 with her, for as he could not imagine life on earth for him- 
 self without her, so also he could not imagine that she could 
 be happy without him in the other life, and not long for him. 
 
 In the afternoon, the evil-boding spider again hid in the 
 ceiling. The flush on Basia's cheeks died out, and the fever 
 decreased so greatly that the patient recovered consciousness 
 somewhat. 
 
 For some time she lay still with closed eyes, and then 
 opened them, and gazed into the little knight's face and 
 asksd: 
 
 "Michael, am I at Khreptyov?" 
 
 "Yes, my darling," he answered, clenching his teeth. 
 
 "And are you really standing beside me?" 
 
 "Yes! how are you feeling?" 
 
 "Oh, well." 
 
 "It was evident that she was not certain herself that the 
 fever was not producing illusory visions, but from that mo- 
 ment she regained consciousness more and more. 
 
 In the evening, Lusnia and his men returned and shook 
 34 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 out of a sack in front of the fort, the doctor of Kanienets, 
 together with his medicines; he was scarcely alive. But 
 when he learned that he was not in the hands of robbers, as 
 he had imagined, but was brought in that fashion to a 
 patient, after a passing faintness he immmediately went to 
 the rescue, especially as Zagloba held in front of him a purse 
 full of coin in one hand, and a loaded pistol in the other, and 
 cried: 
 
 "This is your fee for life, and that for death." 
 
 That same night, about dawn, the evil-boding spider con- 
 cealed itself somewhere finally, whereupon the doctor's as- 
 surance: "She will be ill for a long time, but she will re- 
 cover," joyfully echoed through Khreptyov. When Pan 
 Michael first heard it, he fell to the floor and burst out sob- 
 bing so violently that it seemed as if his breast would hurst. 
 Zagloba became quite faint with joy, and his face broke out 
 into a perspiration, and he was scarcely able to cry, "A 
 drink." The officers also embraced one another. 
 
 On the square the dragoons again gathered with the escort 
 and Pan Motovidlo's Cossacks; they could scarcely be re- 
 strained from shouting. They were anxious to manifest their 
 delight in some way and began to beg for some of the robbers 
 that were imprisoned in the cellars of Khreptyov, so that they 
 might hang them for the lady's benefit. 
 
 But the little knight refused, 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Basia was so violently ill for another week that but for the 
 doctor's assurance, both the little knight and Zagloba would 
 have admitted that the flame of her life might be extingu- 
 ished at any moment. Not till after that lapse of time did 
 she show any manifest improvement; she fully recovered con- 
 sciousness and, although the doctor predicted that she would 
 have to keep her bed for a month or six weeks, still she was 
 sure of recovering her former perfect health and strength. 
 
 During her illness the little knight scarcely stirred from 
 her pillow; if possible he loved her more ardently after the 
 perils she had passed through, and could see nothing in the 
 world beyond her. Sometimes when he sat at her side and 
 gazed on that little loving face, still thin and pinched, though 
 joyous, and those eyes that regained more of their old fire 
 with each day, he felt inclined to laugh, cry, and shout with 
 
 joy- 
 
 "My only Bashka is getting better; she is getting better!" 
 
 And he threw himself on her hands and sometimes kissed 
 those poor little feet that had so bravely waded through the 
 deep snow to Khreptyov; in a word, he loved and honored her 
 to excess. He felt deeply all that he owed to Providence 
 and on one occasion he said in the presence of Zagloba and 
 the officers: 
 
 "I am a poor fellow, "but even if I had to work my arms off 
 to the elbows, I would get money for a little church, though 
 only wooden. And as often as the bells are rung in it, I will 
 remember God's mercy, and my soul will melt within me with 
 gratitude." 
 
 "May God grant first that we successfully go through this 
 Turkish war," said Zagloba. , 
 
 Then the little knight twisted his moustache and answered: 
 "God best knows what is most pleasing to him, if he wants a 
 church, he will preserve me, and if he prefers my blood, I will 
 not spare it, as I love God." 
 
 With returning health Basia recovered her spirits. 
 
 V37O 
 
372 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 weeks later, one evening, she ordered her chamber door to be 
 opened a little, and when the officers had gathered in the 
 large hall, she called out in her silvery tones: 
 
 "Good evening, gentlemen, I'm not going to die this time, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Thanks to Jhe Most High God!" the soldiers replied in 
 chorus. 
 
 "Glory be to Gdfl, beloved child," cried Pan Motovidlo, who 
 especially watched over Basia with paternal affection, and who 
 always spoke in Russian in moments of emotion. 
 
 Basia continued, "Gentlemen, see what has happened, who 
 could have hoped for this? It was fortunate to end thus." 
 
 "God kept watch over innocence," came the chorus through 
 the door again. 
 
 "But Pan Zagloba more than once has laughed at me, for 
 having more love for the sabre than the distaff. Well a dis- 
 taff or a needle would have been a fine help for me, but didn't 
 I behave like a cavalier, didn't I?" 
 
 "An angel could not have done better." 
 
 Zagloba interrupted the conversation by shutting the 
 chamber door, as he feared too much excitement for Basia. 
 But she was as angry as a cat with the old man, as she wanted 
 to talk longer, and especially to receive more praises for her 
 courage and valor. When the danger had passed and become 
 merely a memory she was very proud of her behavior with 
 Azya, and was very greedy of praise. More than once she 
 turned to the little knight and pressing his breast with her 
 finger, cried like a spoiled child: 
 
 "Praise my courage." 
 
 And he obediently praised and caressed her, kissing her 
 eyes and hands, till Zagloba, although really greatly moved 
 himself, feigned to be shocked and muttered: 
 
 "Ah, everything will be as indulgent as a grandfather's 
 whip." 
 
 The general rejoicing at Khreptyov over Basia's recovery 
 was only marred by the memory of the injury done to the 
 Commonwealth by Azya's treason, and the terrible fate of the 
 elder Pan Novovyeyski and the Boskas and Evka. It greatly 
 troubled Basia as well as everybody else, for what had hap- 
 pened in Rashkov was known in detail, not only at Khrept- 
 yov, but at Kamenets and still further. A few days before, 
 Pan Myslishevski had called at Khreptyov, he had not lost all 
 hope of winning the other captains over to the Polish side, in 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 373 
 
 spite of the treachery of Azya, Krychinski, and Adurovich. 
 Pan Bogush followed Pan Myslishevski and later on, direct 
 news came from Mohilov, Yampol and Rashkov itself. 
 
 At Mohilov, Pan Gorzenski, who was evidently abler as a 
 soldier than an orator, had not allowed himself to be tricked. 
 He had intercepted the instructions from Azya to the Tartars 
 left behind, and fallen upon them with a handful of Ma- 
 zovian infantry and slaughtered or taken them all prisoners. 
 Moreover, he had sent warning to Yampol, by which means 
 that place was saved. Soon afterwards the cavalry returned. 
 Rashkov, therefore, was the sole sufferer. Pan Michael re- 
 ceived a letter from Pan Byaloglovski himself, giving a report 
 of what had happened there and other matters regarding the 
 whole Commonwealth. 
 
 "Tis well that I returned," wrote Pan Byaloglovski, among 
 other things, "for Novovyeyski, my subordinate, is now in no 
 condition for duty. He is more like a skeleton than a man, 
 and we are sure to lose a great cavalier, for he is weighed 
 down by suffering beyond his powers of endurance. His 
 father is slain, his sister in the extremity of shame, handed 
 over to Adurovich by Azya, who took Panna Boska for him- 
 self. Nothing can be done for them, even if they should be 
 successfully rescued from captivity. We know this from a 
 Lipkov who sprained his shoulder while crossing the river, 
 and, being captured by our men, he was put on the coals and 
 confessed everything. Azya, son of Tukhay Bey, Krychinski, 
 and Adurovich, have gone to Adrianople. Novovyeyski is 
 making every effort to follow them, declaring that even from 
 the heart of the Sultan's camp he must take. Azya and have 
 vengeance. He always was stubborn and resolute, and now 
 it cannot be wondered at, since it concerns Panna Boska, 
 whose sad fate we all mourn, for she was a sweet girl and I 
 don't know whose heart she did not win. But I restrain 
 Novovyeyski, telling him that Azya himself will come to him, 
 for war is certain, and moreover, the Hordes will form the 
 vanguard. We have news from Moldavia, from the Perku- 
 labs, as well as from Turkish merchants, that forces are 
 already gathering near Adrianople large numbers of the 
 Horde. The Turkish cavalry, which they call Spahis, are 
 also mustering, and the Sultan is himself coming with the 
 Janissaries. Sir, there will be countless swarms of them, for 
 the whole of the East is in motion, and we have only a hand- 
 ful of troops. Our whole hope is in the rock of Kamenets, 
 
7M.Y MICHAEL. 
 
 which, God grant, is properly provisioned. It is Spring at 
 Adrianople, and almost Spring with us, for heavy rains are 
 falling and the grass is sprouting. 1 am going to Yampol, for 
 Rashkov is a mere heap of ashes, and there is no place to rest 
 one's head, nor anything to put into one's mouth. Besides, 
 I think that we shall be withdrawn from all the commands." 
 
 The little knight had intelligence equally positive, and 
 even more so, since it came from Khotsim. Shortly before 
 he had forwarded it to the Hetman. Nevertheless, Byalog- 
 lovski's letter, coming from the extreme border, profoundly 
 impressed him, because it confirmed that intelligence. But 
 the little knight had no fears about the war; only for Basia. 
 
 The Hetman's order to withdraw the garrisons may arrive 
 any day/' he said to Zagloba, "and duty is duty. It will be 
 necessary to move without delay, but Bashka is still in bed, 
 and it's a bad time." 
 
 "If ten orders arrived," said Zagloba, "Bashka is the basis 
 of everything; we will stay here till she has quite recovered. 
 Besides, the war will not commence till the thaws are over, 
 much less before winter is passed, more especially as they will 
 bring heavy artillery against Kamenets." 
 
 "The old volunteer always dwells in you," the little knight 
 impatiently answered; "you think an order may be delayed by 
 private matters." 
 
 "Well, if an order is dearer to you than Basia, pack her into 
 a wagon and march. I know, I know; at an order, you are 
 ready to pitch-fork her into a wagon if she's unable to get in 
 with her own strength. The deuce take you and such disci- 
 pline! In the old days a man did what he could; and what 
 he couldn't, he left. Kindness is on your lips, but only let 
 them cry, 'Haida, on the Turk!' and you spit out your kind- 
 ness like a kernel, and take that unfortunate woman on 
 horseback with a rope." 
 
 "I, no pity for Bashka! fear the wounds of the Crucified!" 
 cried the little knight. 
 
 For some time Pan Zagloba puffed with anger, and then, 
 looking at Pan Michael's troubled face, he said: 
 
 "Michael, dear, you know that what I say is out of my true 
 fatherly love for Bashka, otherwise, should I be sitting here 
 under the Turkish axe instead of enjoying my ease in a safe 
 place, which no man could take ill of me at my years. But 
 who got Bashka for you? If it was I, then make me drink a 
 tun of water without anything to flavor it." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 275 
 
 "I could not repay you for Bashka in a whole lifetime," re- 
 plied the little knight. 
 
 Then they embraced each other and perfect harmony again 
 reigned between them. 
 
 The little knight said, "I have planned that you shall take 
 Bashka to Skshetuski's, to Lukov, when war breaks out. 
 Chambuls do not go so far as that." 
 
 "I will do that for you, though I should be delighted to go 
 against the Turk, for nothing so disgusts me as that swinish 
 people that does not drink wine." 
 
 "I only dread one thing, Bashka will want to be at Kame- 
 nets so as to be near me. My flesh creeps at the thought of 
 it, but as God is God, she will try." 
 
 "Do not allow her. Is it a little evil that has already re- 
 sulted from your indulging her in everything, and letting her 
 take that expedition to Eashkov, though I was the first to cry 
 out against it?" 
 
 "That's not true, you said you wouldn't give any advice." 
 
 "When I say I won't advise a thing it's worse than if I had 
 opposed it." 
 
 "Bashka ought to have got a lesson now, but she hasn't. 
 When she sees the sword hanging above my head she will re- 
 sist." 
 
 "Don't let her resist, I repeat; for God's sake! what kind of 
 a straw husband are you?" 
 
 "I acknowledge that when she puts her knuckles to her 
 eyes, and pretends to cry, my heart is like butter in a frying- 
 pan. She must have administered something to me. As for 
 sending her away, I will do so, because her safety is dearer to 
 me than my own life, but when I think that I must pain her, 
 my breath catches with pity." 
 
 "Dear Michael, have God in your heart! don't be led by the 
 nose." 
 
 "Bah! don't be led! If it wasn't you that said I had no 
 pity for her, who was it?" 
 
 "Eh?" exclaimed Zagloba. 
 
 "You are not wanting in ingenuity, but now you're scratch- 
 ing your ear yourself." 
 
 "Because I am trying to think what better persuasions to 
 use." 
 
 "But if she immediately puts her little knuckles to her 
 eyes?" 
 
 "She will, as I love God!" exclaimed Zagloba in evident 
 alarm. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 And they were both perplexed, for to tell the truth, Basia 
 had taken the exact measure of both. During her illness 
 they had terribly spoilt her, and they loved her so much that 
 the necessity of opposing her wishes filled them with dread. 
 That Basia would not make any opposition, but submissively 
 yield to the decree, they both knew, but without mentioning 
 Pan Michael, Zagloba would far rather have made the third 
 of a trio in charging a whole regiment of Janissaries, than tc 
 see her putting her little knuckles up to her eyee. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That very day they received what they considered sure 
 assistance in the guise of beloved and unexpected guests. 
 Towards evening the Ketlings arrived, without any warning. 
 There was indescribable delight and surprise at Khreptyov 
 on their arrival, and they were equally relieved after their first 
 inquiries to learn of Basia's convalescence. Krysia imme- 
 diately rushed to the bed-chamber, where Basia's cries and 
 exclamations immediately assured the little knight of her 
 happiness. 
 
 Ketling and Volodiyovski exchanged many embraces; now 
 holding each other at arm's length and then hugging again. 
 
 "For God's sake!" cried the little knight. "I am more 
 pleased to see you than if I 'had received a baton; but what 
 are you doing in this region?" 
 
 "The Hetman has appointed me to the command of the 
 artillery at Kamenets," Ketling replied: "and so I went there 
 with my wife. Hearing of your troubles I set out for Khrep- 
 tyov without delay. God be praised, my dear Michael, that 
 everything has ended well! We travelled in great anxiety 
 and uncertainty, for we did not know whether we were 
 coming here to rejoice or to grieve." 
 
 "To rejoice, to rejoice!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 "How did it happen?" asked Ketling. 
 
 The little knight and Zagloba vied with each other in 
 telling about it; and Ketling listened, lifting up his eyes and 
 hands to Heaven, as he marvelled at dear Basia's courage. 
 
 After they had talked to their heart's content the little 
 knight began to ask Ketling about himself, and he replied 
 in detail. After their mariage they had lived on the border 
 of Oourland, and were so happy in each other that Heaven 
 could be no better. When Ketling took Krysia he was sure 
 that she was a 'more than earthly' being and he had not 
 altered his opinion as yet. 
 
 Pan Zajrlo'ba and Pan Michael, by this expression recog- 
 nizing the old Ketling, who always expressed himself in such 
 
 (377) 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 a refined and courtly manner, again began to embrace him, 
 and when all three had sufficiently indulged their affection 
 the old noble asked: 
 
 "Has there come to that 'more than earthly' being any 
 earthly trifle that kicks with its feet and tries to find the 
 teeth in its mouth with its finger?" 
 
 "God gave us a son," said Ketling; "and now again " 
 
 "I noticed," Zagloba interrupted. "But everything here 
 is unchanged." 
 
 He then fixed his sound eye on the little knight whose 
 lips quivered repeatedly. 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by Krysia's arrival; 
 she pointed to the door and said: 
 
 "Bashka invites you." 
 
 They all went in together and fresh greetings commenced. 
 Ketling kissed Basia's hand and Pan Michael again kissed 
 Krysia's and then they all looked at one another with curi- 
 osity, as people do after a long separation. 
 
 Ketling had scarcely changed at all, except that his hair 
 was cropped close, which made him appear younger; but 
 Krysia had greatly altered. She was not so slim 'as of old 
 and her face was paler, which made the down on her lip look 
 darker; but she still had the beautiful eyes of old with their 
 unusually long lashes, and the old tranquil expression. But 
 her features had lost their former marvellous delicacy. It 
 was true that the deterioration might only be temporary, but 
 as Pan Michael looked at her and compared her with his 
 Bashka he could not help thinking: 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! How could I fall in love with her 
 when the two were together? Where were my eyes?" 
 
 On the other hand Basia looked beautiful to Ketling; for 
 she really was beautiful with her golden locks straying over 
 her brow and her complexion, which had lost some of its 
 glow during her illness, and had become like the leaf of a 
 white rose. But now her little face was lit up with pleasure 
 and her delicate nostrils were very mobile. She looked so 
 youthful that she scarcely seemed to have reached maturity 
 yet; and at the first glance she might have been taken for 
 some ten years younger than Ketling^s wife. 
 
 But the only effect of her beauty on the sensitive Ketling 
 was to make him think more tenderly .of his wife, for he felt 
 some self -reproach on her account. 
 
 Both women told each other all that could be crowded 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 37* 
 
 into a few moments and the whole party sat around Basia's 
 bed and began to recall old times. But somehow the conver- 
 sation halted, for in those old times there were delicate sub- 
 jects, confidential passages bet ween Pan Michael and Krysia; 
 and the indifference of the little knight for the now beloved 
 Bashka; and certain promises and desperations. The old life 
 at Ketling's house had a charm for all, and had left pleasant 
 memories behind; but it was inconvenient to talk about it. 
 
 Ketling soon began to speak of other matters. 
 
 "I have not yet told you that on the way we stopped with 
 Pan Yan, who would not let us go for two weeks and gave 
 us such entertainment that it could not be better in Heaven." 
 
 "By the love of God! How are the Skshetuskis?" cried 
 Zagloba. "Then you found them at home!" 
 
 "We did; for he had returned from the Hetman's for a 
 time with his three elder sons who are in the cavalry." 
 
 "I have not seen Pan Yan nor his family since your mar- 
 riage," said the little knight. "He was here in the Wilder- 
 ness with his three sons; but I did not chance to meet him." 
 
 "They are all very anxious to see you," said Ketling, turn- 
 ing to Zagloba. 
 
 "Bah! And I to see them," replied the old noble. "But 
 it's like this: when I <am here I am sad without them and 
 if I go there I shall be sad without this weasel. . . . Such 
 is human life; when the wind doesn't blow into one ear it 
 does into the other. . . . But it is worst for the orphaned 
 man, for if I had something I should not be loving a stran- 
 ger." 
 
 "You would not love your own children more than us," 
 said Basia. 
 
 Zagloba was greatly pleased to hear that and cast aside his 
 sad thoughts and resumed his jovial mood; presently he said: 
 
 "Ah, I was an idiot there at Ketling's: I matched Kryshka 
 and Bashka with you two, and did not think of myself. Then 
 there was still time. . . . " 
 
 "Confess, both of you, that you would have fallen in love 
 >with me, and that either of you would have preferred me 
 to Michael or Ketling." 
 
 "Of course we should," cried Basia. 
 
 "Halshka Skshetuska, also in her day would have preferred 
 me. Ah! it might have been. Then I should have had a 
 sedate woman, none of your vixens, knocking Tartar's teeth 
 out. But is she well, there?" 
 
3 8o PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "She is well, but rather worried, for their two middle boys 
 ran away from school at Lukov to the army/' answered Ket- 
 ling. "Pan Yan himself is glad that the boys have sueh 
 mettle; but a mother is a mother almost always." 
 
 "Have they many children?" asked Basia with a sigh. 
 
 "Twelve boys, and now the fair sex ha's begun," answered 
 Ketling. 
 
 Thereupon Zagloba cried, "Ha! God's special blessing is 
 upon that house. I have reared them all at my own breast 
 like a pelican. ... I must pull those middle boys' ears, 
 for if they must run away why didn't they come to Michael? 
 But wait, it must have been -Michael and Yashek that ran 
 away. There was such a flock of them that their own father 
 got their names mixed up; and there was not a crow to be 
 seen for three miles round about; the rascals had killed them 
 all with their muskets. Bah! bah! you would have to hunt 
 all the world over for another" such woman. 'Halshka!' I 
 used to say to her, 'the lads are getting too big for me, I 
 must have another to sport with/ Then she would pretend 
 to frown at me; but the time ^;ime as if it had been written 
 down. Just think! it got to such a pitch that when the de- 
 sires of any woman in the neighborhood were not blessed she 
 borrowed a dress from Halshka and it helped her; it did, as 
 God is dear to me. . . . 
 
 They all greatly marvelled, and a moment's silence en- 
 sued; then suddenly the little knight's voice was heard: 
 
 "Bashka, do you hear that?" 
 
 "Michael, will you be quiet?" she replied. 
 
 But Michael would not be quiet, for cunning schemes came 
 into his head. It occurerd to him that the accomplishment 
 of an equally important matter might be combined with that 
 one; -and so he began to talk as if to himself, carelessly, and 
 as if it were of no special importance: 
 
 "By Heavens! It would be a good thing to pay a visit to 
 Skshetuski and his wife; but now he won't be at home, as 
 he is going to the Hetman; but she is sensible and is not 
 in the habit of tempting the Lord God, and so she will remain* 
 at home. . . . 
 
 Here he turned to Krysia. 
 
 "Spring is approaching and it will be fine weather. It is 
 too early for Bashka now, but I might not mind a little 
 later, as it is an obligation of friendship. Pan Zagloba would 
 take you both there, and when all was quiet in the Autumn 
 I would follow you. . . . 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 381 
 
 "That is a magnificent idea," exclaimed Zagloba; "I must 
 go anyway, for I have been ungrateful to them. Indeed, I 
 have forgotten their existence, till I am ashamed." 
 
 "What do you say to it?" asked Pan Michael looking search- 
 ingly into Krysia's eyes. 
 
 But to his amazement she answered with her habitual calm- 
 ness: 
 
 "I should be glad but I cannot, because I am going to stay 
 with my husband at Kamenets and will not leave him under 
 any consideration." 
 
 "For God's sake! what do I hear?" cried Pan Michael. 
 "You will stay in the fortress, which will certainly be in- 
 vested and by a foe that knows no respect ? I should say not a 
 'word if the war were against some civilized foe, 'but this 
 affair is with barbarians. Do you know what a captured city 
 means, or what Turkish or Tartar captivity is ? I can't be- 
 lieve my ears!" 
 
 "Still, it must be so," replied Krysia. 
 
 "Ketling," cried the little knight in desperation, "is ihis 
 the way you allow yourself to be mastered? man, have 
 God in your heart!" 
 
 "We deliberated long," answered Ketling, "and this was 
 the end of it." 
 
 "And our son is in Kamenets under the care of a lady rela- 
 tive of mine. Is it certain that Kamenets must be captured ?" 
 
 Here Krysia raised her tranquil eyes: 
 
 "God is mightier than the Turk, He will not betray our 
 trust, and, since I have sworn not to leave my husband till 
 death, my place is by his side." 
 
 The little knight was terribly confused, for he had expected 
 something quite different from Krysia. 
 
 Basia, who had seen what Michael was driving at from the 
 very first, now laughed knowingly. She fixed her sharp little 
 eyes on him and said: 
 
 "Michael, do you hear?" 
 
 "Bashka, be quiet!" exclaimed the little knight in the 
 greatest confusion. 
 
 Then he began to look despairingly at Zagloba as if ex- 
 pecting him to come to the rescue; but that traitor suddenly 
 rose "find said: 
 
 "We must think of refreshment since man cannot live by 
 words alone." 
 
 And he left the r<n-m. 
 
 Pan Michael quickly followed and stopped hrm. 
 
332 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Well, what now?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 "May the bullets strike that Ketling woman! For Heav- 
 en's sake, how can this Commonwealth help perishing when 
 it is being run by women?" 
 
 "Can't you think out anything?" 
 
 "What can I think out for you, since you are afraid of 
 your wife? Gto to the blacksmith's and get shod; that's 
 what." 
 
CHAPTER VHI. 
 
 The KetlingB stayed for about three weeks. At the expira- 
 tion of that period Basia tried to get up, but she was not yet 
 able to stand upon her feet. She had recovered her health 
 sooner than her strength, and the doctor ordered her to keep 
 her bed till her full vigor had returned. Meanwhile Spring 
 began. First a strong warm wind coming from the Wild 
 Lands and the Black Sea tore apart and dissipated the veil of 
 clouds like a garment tattered with age, and then began to 
 collect and drive them through the sky as a shepherd-dog 
 collects and drives a flock of sheep. The clouds, fleeing be- 
 fore it, frequently drenched the earth with heavy rain that 
 fell in drops 34 big as berries. The thawing remains of ice 
 and snow formed lakes on the level steppes; ribbons of water 
 were falling from the cliffs; streams rose in the bottoms of 
 the ravines; and all these waters were running with noise, and 
 riot, and uproar to the Dniester as children run joyfully to 
 their mother. 
 
 Every now and then the sun shone through the breaks in 
 the clouds, gleaming and rejuvenated as though wet with 
 bathing in that universal abyss. 
 
 Then vivid green blades of grass began to rise through the 
 softened ground; the slender twigs of the trees burst into 
 abundant buds, and the sun grew hotter. Flocks of birds 
 appeared in the sky, strings of cranes, wild geese, and 
 storks; then the wind began to bring clouds of swallows; the 
 frogs croaked in a mighty chorus in the warmed water; the 
 little birds were in riotous song, and throughout pine-woods, 
 forests, steppes, and ravines sounded one great cry, as if all 
 Nature were shouting with exultation and happiness: 
 
 "Spring! U-ha! Spring!" 
 
 But for that unfortunate region Spring brought mourning 
 instead of rejoicing; death instead of life. A few days after 
 the Ketlings had left the little knight received the following 
 communication from Pan Myslishevski: 
 
 "On the plain of Kauchunkaury the hordes gather daily in 
 
 (383) 
 
384 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 increasing numbers. The Sultan has scut considerable sums 
 to the Crimea. The Khan with a horde of fifty thousand is 
 going to aid Doroshenko. As soon as the floods have dried 
 up the multitude will advance by the Black Trail and the 
 Kuchman Trail. God have mercy on the Commonwealth !" 
 
 Pan Michael sent Pyentka, his attendant, at once to the 
 II t'd nan with the news. 
 
 But he himself did not hurry away from Khreptyov. In 
 the first place, as a soldier he could not leave his post without 
 the orders of the Hetman; and in the second, he had been 
 engaged with the Tartars for too many years not to know that 
 chambuls would not move so soon. The waters had not yet 
 fallen; the grass was not long enough, and the Cossacks were 
 still in winter-quarters. The little knight did not expect the 
 Turks before summer; for, though they were already gather- 
 ing at Adrianople, yet such immense numbers of troops and 
 camp-followers, baggage, horses, camels, and buffaloes could 
 only advance very slowly. The Tartars might be expected 
 earlier, at the end of April, or beginning of May. . . It was 
 true that in advance of the main body, which numbered tens 
 of thousands of warriors, detached chambuls of varying -force 
 always fell on the land, as single drops of rain precede the 
 great torrent; 'but these the little knight did not fear. K"ot 
 even a picked Tartar komunik could stand against the cavalry 
 of the Commonwealth in the open field; and what could be 
 done by bands which scattered like dust before the whirlwind 
 at the mere report that troops were approaching? 
 
 There was time enough in every event; and even if there 
 had not been, Pan Michael would not have greatly objected 
 to a brush with a few chambuls in a way that would have been 
 equally painful and memorable to them. 
 
 He was a soldier, blood and bone; a soldier by profession, 
 and so the approach of a war roused his thirst for the blood 
 of the foe at the same time that it calmed him. 
 
 Pan Zagloba, although in the course of a long life inured 
 to great peril more than most men, was not so calm. . . His 
 courage rose in sudden emergencies, and moreover he had 
 developed it by long practice which was often involuntary, 
 and in his day he had gained famous victories; and yet the 
 first tidings of approaching war always excited him greatly. 
 But now when the little knight stated his own views Zagloba 
 was somewhat comforted and even began to challenge and 
 threaten the whole of the East. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 385 
 
 "When Christian nations fight with each other," he said, 
 "the Lord Jesus himself is grieved and all the Saints scratch 
 their heads, as it often happens that when the master is 
 anxious so is the entire household; but he who beats the Turk 
 cannot give Heaven sorrow. I have it from a certain spiritual 
 personage that the Saints simply grow sick at the sight of 
 those dogs; and therefore they get no good from their spiritual 
 food and drink, and even their eternal happiness is ruined." 
 
 "That really must be so," replied the little knight. "But 
 the power of the Turk is tremendous, and our troops might 
 be contained in the palm of your hand." 
 
 "But they will not conquer the entire Commonwealth. Was 
 the power of Carolus Gustavus small? In those days we were 
 at war with the Northeners, and the Cossacks, and Kakotsi, 
 and the Elector; but where are they to-day? Besides, we car- 
 ried fire and sword to their own hearths." 
 
 "That is true. Personally I should have no fear of this 
 war, because, as I have said, I must perform something note- 
 worthy to repay the Lord Jesus and the Most Holy Virgin for 
 their mercy to Baska; God only grant me the opportunity!. . . 
 But the question for me is this country, which may easily fall 
 into Infidel hands if only for a time. Imagine what a dese- 
 cration of God's churches there would be and what oppres- 
 sion of Christian folk!" 
 
 "Don't talk to me of the Cossacks! The villains! They 
 raised their hands against the Mother and now let them get 
 what they wanted. The most important thing is that Kam- 
 enets should make a successful resistance. What do you 
 think, Michael, will it do so?" 
 
 "I think that the General of Podolia has not properly pro- 
 visioned it, and also that the inhabitants, secure in their 
 position, have not done all they ought. Ketling said that the 
 regiments of Bishop Trebitski came in very small numbers. 
 But, by God, we held out at Zbraj behind a mere miseral)]' 1 
 trench against as great a force, and so W T C ought to hold out 
 this time, for that Kamenets is an eagle's nest. . . JJ 
 
 "An eagle's nest in truth; but we don't know whether an 
 eagle like Prince Vishnyovetski is in it or merely a crow. Do 
 you know the General of Podolia ?" 
 
 "He is an able man and a good soldier, but somewhat care- 
 less." 
 
 "I know, I am acquainted with him! More than once I 
 have reproached him with it; at one time the Pototskis wanted 
 26 
 
PI A" MICHAEL. 
 
 me to accompany him abroad for his education, so that he 
 might learn good manners from me. But I replied: '1 won't 
 go because of his carelessness, for he never has two tags to 
 his boot; he was presented at Court in my boots, and saffian is 
 dear/ Afterwards, in the days of Maria Ludovika, he wore 
 the French costume; but his stockings were always down show- 
 ing his bare calves. He will never reach the height of Prince 
 Yeremy's belt." 
 
 "Then again, the shopkeepers greatly dread a siege, for 
 then trade is suspended. They would even prefer to belong 
 to the Turks if only they could keep their shops open." 
 
 "The villians!" cried Zagloba. 
 
 And he and the little knight were greatly troubled about 
 the approaching fate of Kamenets; it was a matter that per- 
 sonally affected Basia, who, in case of capitulation, would 
 have to share the fate of the rest of the inhabitants. 
 
 Presently Zagloba struck his forehead: 
 
 "For God's sake, why are we fretting? Why should we go 
 to that mangy Kamenets and shut ourselves up there? Isn't 
 it better for you to remain by the Herman's side and serve 
 against the enemy in the field ? And in that case Basia would 
 not accompany you to the squadron and would have to go to 
 some other place than Kamenets, somewhere a long way off, 
 to Skshetuski's house, for example. Michael, God looks into 
 my heart and sees how I long to go against the Infidels; but 
 I will do this for you and Basia, I will take her away." 
 
 "I thank you. This is how the case stands: If I were not 
 forced to be in Kamenets, Basia would not insist; but what 
 is to be done when the Hetman's orders arrive ?" 
 
 "What is to be done when the orders arrive? May the 
 devil tear up all orders! What is to be done? Wait! I have a 
 sudden idea. Here it is: we must anticipate the orders." 
 
 "How is that?' 
 
 "Write at once to Pan Sobieski as if sending intelligence, 
 and end by saying that at the prospect of the approaching war 
 you want to be beside him and fight in the open on account 
 of the love you bear him. By God's wounds, that's a splendid 
 idea! For, in the first place, they cannot possibly shut up 
 such a warrior as you behind a wall instead of making use of 
 you; and in the second, the Hetman will love you the more 
 for the letter and will want to have you near him. He will 
 need trusty soldiers also. . . Only listen: if Kamenets holds 
 out the General of Podolia will get the glory; but what you 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 387 
 
 accomplish in the field will redound to the fame of the Het- 
 man. Never fear! the Hetman will not give you up to the 
 General. He would rather let him have some one else; but he 
 will not give up either you or me. Write the letter and recall 
 yourself to his memory. Aha! my wits are still worth some- 
 thing: too good yet to let hens peck them on the dust-heap! 
 Michael, let's have something to drink on it, or rather, write 
 the letter first." 
 
 Pan Michael was indeed overjoyed; he embraced Zagloba, 
 and, after a few moments' reflection said: 
 
 "And by this I shall not deceive the Hetman, nor the Lord 
 God, nor the country; for I shall certainly accomplish a great 
 deal in the field. I thank you with all my heart! I also think 
 that the Hetman will want to have me at hand, especially 
 after the letter. But do you know what I will do so as not 
 to desert Kamenets? I'll fit out a few infantry at my own 
 charge and send them to Kamenets; I'll write to the Hetman 
 about it at once." 
 
 "Better still! But, Michael, where will you find the men?" 
 
 "I have about forty marauders and prisoners in the cellars 
 and I'll take them. Whenever I ordered any of them to be 
 hanged Basia importuned me to let them off; and more than 
 once she has advised me to make soldiers of these marauders. 
 I was not willing because an example was needed, but now 
 war is on our necks, and everything is admissible. They are 
 terrible fellows, as they have smelt powder. I will also issue 
 a proclamation that whoever will join the regiment from the 
 woods and ravines shall receive pardon for former robberies. 
 There will be about a hundred men. . . Basia also will be 
 pleased. You have lifted a great weight from my heart." 
 
 The same day the little knight despatched a fresh messen- 
 ger to the Hetman and issued a proclamation of life and par- 
 don to whatever robbers should join the infantry. They 
 gladly joined and promised to bring in others. Basia was 
 highly delighted. Tailors were brought from Ushytsa and 
 Kamenets and wherever they could be procured to make uni- 
 forms. Pan Michael was happy at the thought of serving 
 against the foe in the field and not exposing his wife to the 
 perils of a siege, in addition to rendering considerable service 
 to Kamenets and the country. 
 
 This work had been proceeding for some weeks when one 
 evening the messenger returned with a letter from Pan Het- 
 man Sobieski. 
 
388 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 The Hetman wrote as follows: 
 
 "Greatly beloved Volodiyovski: I am grateful to you and 
 the fatherland owes you thanks for sending tidings so dili- 
 gently. War is certain. I have news also from another quar- 
 ter that there is an immense force in Kauchunkaury; there 
 will he three hundred thousand including the Horde. The 
 Horde may march at any moment. The Sultan sets more 
 store on Kamenets than anything else. The Lipkovs will 
 show the Turks every road and give them all information re- 
 garding Kamenets. I hope that God will give that serpent, 
 the son of Tukhay Bey, into your hands, or into those of 
 Novovyeyski, for whose wrongs I sincerely grieve. As to your 
 being by my side, God knows how glad I should be, but it is 
 impossible. The General has shown me many kindnesses since 
 the election and I therefore wish to send him the best soldiers, 
 for the rock of Kamenets is to me as the pupil of my eye. 
 Many will be there who have seen war once or twice in their 
 lives and are therefore like men who have once or twice eaten 
 of some strange dish and remember it all their lives after- 
 wards; but there will be lacking a man who has had it for 
 his daily bread and whose experienced Advice will be useful, 
 or if there is such a man he will not have sufficient weight. I 
 will therefore send you. Although Ketling is a good soldier 
 he is not so well known; the inhabitants will have their eyes 
 fixed on you, and though another will have the command I 
 think that men will readily obey you. This duty at Kamenets 
 may prove dangerous, but we are accustomed to be drenched 
 with the rain from which others hide. Glory and grateful 
 remembrance is a sufficient reward for us, but the principal 
 consideration is the country, to the rescue of which I need not 
 excite you." 
 
 This letter, read to the assembled officers, made a great 
 impression; for they all wanted to serve in the field rather 
 than in a fortress. Pan Michael bowed his head. 
 
 "What do you think now, Michael ?" asked Zagloba. 
 
 He raised his face that was composed already, and answered 
 in accents as calm as if his hopes had not met with any dis- 
 appointment: 
 
 "I will go to Kamenets. What should I think?" 
 
 And it might have been supposed that he had never had 
 an idea of doing anything else. 
 
 Presently his lips quivered and he said: 
 
 "Ah, dear comrades, we will go to Kamenets, but we will 
 die before we give it up." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "We will fall there first," repeated the officers. "Death 
 comes only once to a man." 
 
 For some time Zagloba was silent; then glancing around 
 on the company and seeing that everybody was waiting for 
 him to say something, he suddenly drew a long breath and 
 cried: 
 
 "I will go with you. The Devil take it!" 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 When the earth had dried and the grass was growing, the 
 Khan in person with fifty thousand of the Crimean and As- 
 trachan hordes advanced to the aid of Dorosh and the rebel 
 Cossacks. The Khan himself, the petty sultans, his relatives, 
 and all the more considerable murzas and beys wore kaftans 
 presented to them by the Pacfcshah and went to fight the 
 Commonwealth, not as they usually did for spoil and captives, 
 but for a holy war ordered by fate for the Destruction of 
 Poland and Christianity. 
 
 A second and still greater tempest was gathering at Adri- 
 anople, and against this deluge the rock of Kamenets only 
 held its head erect, for the remainder of the Commonwealth 
 lay like an open steppe, or a sick man powerless to help him- 
 self or even stand up on his feet. The previous Swedish, 
 Prussian, Muscovan, Cossack, and Hungarian wars, though 
 in the end victorious, had exhausted the Commonwealth. 
 The military confederations and the rebellion of Lubomirski 
 of infamous memory, had exhausted it, and now it was utterly 
 weakened by Court quarrels, the king's incapacity, the feuds 
 of the rich, the blindness of a worthless nobility, and the 
 peril of civil strife. In vain were the great Sobieski's warn- 
 ings of approaching ruin, nobody would believe in war. They 
 neglected all measures of defence; the treasury was empty 
 and the Hetman had no troops. He could barely oppose a 
 few thousand troops to a power against which an alliance of 
 all the nations of Christendom could scarcely stand. 
 
 Meanwhile it was entirely different in the Orient. There 
 everything was done according to the will of the Padishah 
 and various nations were like a sword in the hand of one 
 man. From the moment when the great banner of the 
 Prophet was unfurled and the horse-tail standard set up on 
 the gate of the seraglio and tower of the seraskierat, and the 
 ulemas began to preach a holy war, half of Asia and the 
 whole of Northern Africa was in a ferment. In the Spring 
 the Padishah himself had taken his station on the plain of 
 (390) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 391 
 
 Kauchunkaury and was collecting greater forces than had been 
 seen on earth for a long time. A hundred thousand spahis 
 and janissaries, the flower of the Turkish army were near 
 his sacred person, and then forces began to gather from all 
 his most distant lands and posessessions. The first to arrive 
 were those Who dwelt in Europe. The legions of the mounted 
 Beys of Bosnia came hued like the dawn and furious as light- 
 ning; the wild infantry of Albania came with their daggers; 
 there came also Serbs who had turned Turk, and people who 
 dwelt on the banks of the Danube, and lower beyond the 
 Balkans, and farther still among the mountains of Greece. 
 Each pasha led a whole army which was alone sufficient to 
 overrun 4he defenceless Commonwealth. There were Mol- 
 davians, and Wallachiaais, and Tartars in force from the 
 Dobrudja and Byalogrod, and some thousands of Lipkova 
 and Oheremis, led by the terrible Azya, son of Tukhay Bey, 
 and these were to act as guides through the unfortunate 
 country with which they were well acquainted. 
 
 Next the general levies from Asia began to arrive. The 
 pashas of Sivas, Broussa, Aleppo, Damascus, and Bagdad, in 
 addition to their regular troops, led armed mobs beginning 
 with the wild men from the cedar-covered moutains of Asia 
 Minor and ending with the swarthy dwellers on the banks of 
 the Euphrates and Tigris. At the call of the Oaliph, Ara- 
 bians also rose; their burnooses covered the plains of Kau- 
 chunkaury like snow; among them also were nomads from 
 the sandy deserts and people of the cities from Medina to 
 Mecca. The tributary power of Egypt did not remain at 
 home. Those who lived in populous Cairo, or in the even- 
 ing gazed on the pyramids in the blaze of the sunset, or 
 wandered among the ruins of Thebes, or dwelt in the gloomy 
 region where the sacred Nile has its source, men, burned 
 to the hue of soot by the sun, all these planted their arms 
 in the soil of Adrian ople praying every evening for victory 
 to Islam and destruction to that land which single-handed 
 for ages had protected the rest of the world from the followers 
 of the Prophet. 
 
 There were multitudes of armed men, hundreds of thous- 
 ands of horses were neighing on the plain; hundreds of thous- 
 ands of buffaloes, sheep and camels were feeding beside the 
 herds of horses. It might have been imagined that by God's 
 command an angel had turned mankind out of Asia as he 
 had once turned Adam out of Paradise and ordered them to 
 
392 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 seek lands where the sun was not so bright and in winter 
 the steppes were covered with snow. They went therefore 
 with their herds, a countless swarm of white, swarthy, and 
 black warriors. What numbers of tongues were heard there, 
 what a number of various costumes glittered in the Spring 
 sun! Nation marvelled at nation; to some the customs of 
 others were entirely foreign, their weapons unknown, their 
 ways of warfare different, and a common faith was the sole 
 bond between these nomads; only when the muezzins called 
 to prayer did these many-tongued hosts turn their faces 
 towards the East and call upon Allah with one voice. 
 
 The Sultan's court had more servants than the Common- 
 wealth had troops. Behind the army and armed bodies of 
 volunteers came crowds of traders selling all kinds of mer- 
 chandise; their wagons, together with those of the host, 
 flowed along like a mighty river. 
 
 Two pashas of three tails commanding two armies had 
 to supply these swarms of people with food as their sole task; 
 and there was plenty of everything. The sandjak Sangrytan 
 looked after the entire supply of powder. Two hundred can- 
 non accompanied the army, and ten of these were siege-guns 
 of such size that no Christian king possesed the like. The 
 Beglerbeys of Asia occupied the right wing and the Euro- 
 peans the left. The tents took up so much ground that 
 Adrianople seemed a small city in comparison. The Sultan's 
 tents, brilliant with purple, silken cords, satin, and gold em- 
 broidery formed a kind of city by itself. In their midst 
 thronged armed guards; black Abyssinian eunuchs in yellow 
 and blue kaftans; gigantic porters from the tribes of Kur- 
 distan to carry burdens; Uzbek youths, with faces of exceed- 
 ing beauty shaded by silken fringes; and many other ser- 
 vants with colors as mottled and variegated as the flowers 
 on the steppes. Some acted as equerries, some served at 
 table, some carried lamps, and others occupied thejnost im- 
 portant offices at court. 
 
 On the great square around the Sultan's court, which in 
 its luxury and splendor reminded the faithful of the pro- 
 mised Paradise, were other courts, not so sumptuous but 
 still equal to those of kings, the courts of the vizier, the 
 ulemas, the pasha of Anatolia, and of the young kaimakan 
 Black Mustafa, upon whom the eyes of the Sultan and all 
 were turned as the coming "Sun of War." 
 
 In front of the pavillions of the Padishah were to be seen 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 393 
 
 the sacred infantry guard with such high turbans that they 
 made their wearers look like giants. They were armed with 
 javelins attached to long stall's, and with short crooked 
 swords. Their linen tents adjoined the abode of the Sultan. 
 Further away were the camps of the formidable janissaries, 
 armed with muskets and lances, and forming the kernel of 
 the Turkish army. Neither the Emperor of Germany nor 
 the King of France could boast of infantry of such numbers 
 and military dexterity In wars against the Commonwealth 
 the Sultan's people were generally weaker and could not 
 measure their strength with an equal force of cavalry and 
 only crushed and conquered with their immense superiority 
 of numbers. But the janissaries even dared to stand against 
 regular squadrons. They excited terror throughout Christ- 
 endom, even in Tsarogrod itself. Often the Sultan himself 
 trembled before such pretorians, and the chief aga of these 
 'lambs' was one of the most important dignitaries in the 
 Divan. 
 
 Next to the janissaries came the spahis, and then the 
 regular troops of the pashas, and lastly the common crowd. 
 For some months this whole camp had lain near Constanti- 
 nople waiting till its force should be completed by legions 
 from the remotest parts of the Turkish dominions and till 
 the Spring sun should facilitate the march to Poland by 
 sucking up the moisture from the earth. 
 
 The sun had shone brightly as though subject to the Sul- 
 tan's will. From the beginning of April until May scarcely 
 even a few warm showers had moistened the fields of Kau- 
 chunkaury; for the rest, God's blue pavilion hung cloudless 
 above the Sultan's tent. The brightness of day shone on 
 the white linen and turbans and many-colored caps and on 
 the points of the helmets and standards and javelins, on the 
 camp and tents and people and herds, flooding all. 
 
 In a clear sky in the evening the moon shone unclouded 
 by mist and quietly watching over the thousands who were 
 marching to conquer more and new lands under its emblem; 
 then it rose higher in the sky and paled before the light 
 of the fires. But when the fires blazed throughout the great 
 plain, and the Arab infantry from Damascus and Aleppo, 
 called 'massala djilari,' lit the green, red, yellow, and blue 
 lamps at the tents of the Sultan and Vizir, it looked as 
 though a portion of the sky had fallen t the earth and that 
 they were stars sparkling and twinkling on the plain. 
 
394 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 The most perfect order and discipline reigned among those 
 hosts. The pashas bowed to the will of the Sultan like a 
 reed to the storm, and the army bowed before them. There 
 was no lack of food for man and 'beast. Everything was 
 served in the utmost plenty at the proper season. In the 
 most perfect order also were spent the hours of military prac- 
 , tice, pastime, and devotion. When the muezzins summoned 
 f to prayer from the hastily-built wooden structures, the whole 
 army turned their faces to the East, every man spread a skin 
 or mat before him, and the entire host fell upon its knees 
 like one man. At the sight of that order and restaint their 
 hearts rose in triumph and their souls were filled with the 
 sure hope of triumph. 
 
 The Sultan arived at the camp at the end of April, but 
 did not begin the march immediately. He waited more than 
 a month to allow the waters to dry up and employed the 
 interval in training the host to camp life, in organization 
 and exercises and receiving ambassadors and dispensing jus- 
 tice under a purple 'baldaquin. His principal wife, the 
 kasseka, accompanied him on this expedition, and with her 
 also went a court as marvellous as a dream of Paradise. 
 
 The lady was borne in a gilded chariot with a canopy 
 of purple taffeta and it was followed by other cars and 
 white Syrian camels carrying packs and also covered with 
 purple. Houris and bayaderas sang songs along the way. 
 When she was weary from travel and closed her silken lashes, 
 immediately the sweet strains of soft music arose and lulled 
 her to sleep. During the heat of the day fans of peacock 
 and ostrich feathers waved above her, and before her tent 
 priceless perfumes of the East were burned in Indian bowls. 
 She was surrounded by all the treasures, luxuries, and riches 
 that could be supplied by the Orient and the Sultan's power; 
 houris, bayaderes, black eunuchs, pages beautiful as angels, 
 Syrian camels, horses from the Arabian desert; in short her 
 I whole train glittered with brocade and sumptuous stuffs and 
 ; gleamed like a rainbow with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and 
 sapphires. Nations fell upon their faces before it, not daring 
 to gaze upon that countenance which the Padishah alone 
 had the right to see; and that train seemed to be either a 
 supernatural vision or else a reality transferred from the 
 realm of visions and illusive dreams by Allah himself. 
 
 But the sun warmed the earth more and more till at length 
 the hot days arrived. Therefore one evening the banner 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 395 
 
 was raised on a tall pole in front of the Sultan's tent and 
 a cannon-shot announced the march to Poland to the army 
 and people. The great sacred benben sounded and then all 
 the others were beaten; the shrill tones of the pipes were 
 heard, the pious, half-nude dervishes began to howl, and 
 the stream of people moved forward in the night to escape 
 the sun's heat during the day. But the army itself was 
 not to start till some hours after the first notice. First of 
 all went the vanguard, and then the pashas who supplied 
 the troops with food, and then whole legions of laborers to 
 pitch tents; then came herds of pack-animals, and then the 
 herds to be slaughtered. The march was to be one of six 
 hours on that .and all following nights, and was to keep such 
 order that when the soldiers halted they should always be 
 assured of food and a resting-place made ready. 
 
 At last, when the moment arrived for the soldiers to ad- 
 vance, the Sultan rode out to an eminence to view his whole 
 force and delight in the sight. With him were his vizir, the 
 ulemas, the young kaimakan, Black Mustafa, the Eising 
 Sun of War, and a guard of his infantry. It was a tranquil 
 and bright night, clear with bright moonlight, so that the 
 Sultan might have seen all his legions had it not been that 
 no single human vision could have grasped them all at once, 
 for when they were marching, though closely arrayed, they 
 extended several miles. 
 
 Yet his heart rejoiced and, runnning his sandal-wood 
 scented beads through his fingers, he raised his eyes to 
 Heaven and gave thanks to Allah who had made him lord 
 over so many armies and so many lands. Suddenly when the 
 head of the vanguard had almost disappeared he suspended 
 his prayer and turned to the young kaimakan, Black Mus- 
 tafa, saying: 
 
 "I have forgotten, who form the vanguard?" 
 
 "Light of Paradise!" replied Black Mustafa, "in the van- 
 guard are the Lipkovs and the Cheremis; and the dog Azya, 
 the son of Tukhay Bey, is leading them/' 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey, was indeed marching with 
 his men at the head of the whole Turkish force towards the 
 border of the Commonwealth after the long wait on the plain 
 of Kauchunkaury. 
 
 After the terrible blow that he had received in his plans 
 and person from Basia's dexterous hand, a happy star now 
 seemed to shine on him afresh. In the first place he had re- 
 covered his health. His comeliness it is true was for ever 
 destroyed; one eye had entirely flowed away, his nose was 
 mashed and his face, which was once like that of a falcon, had 
 become monstrous and horrible. But that very terror with 
 which it inspired people gained greater consideration for him 
 among the Dobrudja Tartars. His presence made a great stir 
 in the whole camp; his deeds grew in the tales people told of 
 him and assumed gigantic proportions. It was said that he 
 had brought all the Lipkov and Cheremi Tartars into the 
 service of the Sultan; that he had got the best of the Poles as 
 nobody else had ever done; that he had burned all the towns 
 along the Dniester and slaughtered their garrisons and taken 
 important booty. Those who were now marching to Poland 
 for the first time, those who had come from far regions of the 
 East and had not yet tried the Polish arms, those whose 
 hearts quaked at the thought of soon standing face to face 
 with the terrible cavalry of the unbelievers, saw in the young 
 Azya a warrior who had already shown his brow to the Poles 
 and was not afraid of them and above all had made a fortunate 
 beginning of war. The sight of the 'bagadir* immediately 
 filled their souls with comfort; moreover Azya was the son of 
 that terrible Tukhay Bey whose name had reverberated 
 through the whole of the East; and so all eyes turned on him 
 the more. 
 
 "The Poles brought him up," they said, "but he is the son 
 of a lion; he bit them, and returned to the service of the 
 Padishah " 
 
 .The vizir himself wanted to see him, and the "Bising Sun 
 
 (396) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 397 
 
 of War," the young kaimakan, Black Mustafa, who delighted 
 in military glory and wild warriors, loved him. Both of 
 them made close inquiry regarding the Commonwealth, the 
 Hetman, the armies, and Kamenets, and were happy at his 
 answers, for they saw that the war would be easy: victory to 
 the Sultan, defeat to the Poles and the title of Ghazi (con- 
 queror) to both. Therefore Azya would have frequently op- 
 portunities to fall on his face before the vizir and to sit at 
 the entrance of the kaimakan's tent and receive from both 
 many gifts of camels, horses, and weapons. 
 
 The grand vizir presented him with a kaftan of silver bro- 
 cade, the possession of which elevated him in the eyes of the 
 Lipkov and Cheremi Tartars. Krychinski, Adurovich, Mo- 
 ravski, Grokholski, Tarasovski, Aleksandrovich, in short all 
 the leaders who had once lived in the Commonwealth and 
 served it, but had now gone over to the Sultan, unquestion- 
 ingly placed themselves under the command of the son of 
 Tukhay Bey, honoring him both as a prince by birth and a 
 warrior who had received a kaftan. He therefore became a 
 powerful murza and more than two thousand warriors, who 
 were far superior to the average Tartars, obeyed his nod. 
 The coming war, in which it would be easier for the young 
 murza than anyone else to distinguish himself, might carry 
 him high: in it he might find high dignity, glory, and power. 
 
 But yet there was poison in Azya's soul. In the first place, 
 his pride was hurt that the Tartars in the presence of the 
 Turks, and especially of the janissaries and spahis, were of 
 little more importance than dogs in comparison with hunters. 
 He himself was of importance, but the Tartars generally were 
 regarded as worthless horsemen. The Turk made use of 
 them and sometimes he feared them; but in the camp he de- 
 spised them. When Azya saw this he kept his men apart 
 from the general mass of Tartars as if they were a distinct 
 and better kind of army, but by so doing he immediately ex- 
 cited the resentment of the Dobrudja and Byalogrod murzas, 
 and did not succeed in convincing the Turkish officers that the 
 Lipkovs were in reality any better than the chambuls of the 
 Horde. On the other hand, as he had been brought up in a 
 Christian land among nobles and knights, he could not 
 readily accustom himself to Oriental customs. In the Com- 
 monwealth he had only been an ordinary officer in the lowest 
 arm of the service; but yet, when he had come in contact with 
 his superiors, and even the Hetman, he had not been forced 
 
398 PAN MICHAKL. 
 
 to humble himself as here where he was a irmrza and the 
 leader of all the bodies of Lipkov Tartars. Here he had to 
 prostrate himself before the vizir; he had to bow his forehead 
 to the earth in the friendly tent of the kaimakan; he had to 
 bow down before the pashas, the ulemas, the chief Aga of the 
 janissaries. Azya was not accustomed to this. He remeni- 
 
 I bered -that he was the son of a hero; he had a wild and 
 haughty spirit, aiming high as eagles aim, and therefore he 
 suffered grievously. 
 
 But the memory of Basia burned him with the fiercest fire. 
 He did not care that one feeble hand should have dashed 
 from his horse him, who, at Bratslav, at Kalnik, and a hun- 
 dred other places, had challenged to the combat and extended 
 in death the most terrible raiders of the Zaporoj; and he 
 cared less for the shame and humiliation. But he loved that 
 woman beyond all bounds; he wanted her in his tent, to gaze 
 upon her, to beat her and to kiss her. If he had the choice- 
 between being the Padishah and ruling half the world, or 
 taking her in his arms and feeling the heat of her blood on 
 his heart, her breath on his face, and her lips on his, he would 
 rather have her than Tsarogrod, the Bosphorus, or the title of 
 Khalif. He wanted her because he both loved and hated her. 
 The farther removed she was from him, the more he wanted 
 her; the more pure, faithful, and unspotted she was, the more 
 he wanted her. On more than one occasion in his tent when 
 he remembered how that once in his life he had kissed those 
 eyes in the gulley after the fight with Azba Bey, and that he 
 had felt her breast against his at Rashkov, he was carried 
 away by the madness of desire. He knew not what had be- 
 come of her, nor if she had perished on the road. Sometimes 
 he was comforted by the thought that she had died and some- 
 times deep grief took hold of him. There were moments 
 when he thought: "It would have been better not to have 
 
 ' carried her off, burned Rashkov, and come here; but to have 
 stayed at Khreptyov with the Lipkovs, if only to look at her." 
 But the unfortunate Zosia Boska was in his tent. Her 
 days were passed in slavery, in shame, and in constant terror; 
 for there was not a grain of pity -for her in Azya's heart. He 
 tortured her simply because she was not Basia. Nevertheless 
 she possessed the charm and sweetness of a wild-flower; she 
 possessed youth and beauty and therefore he sated himself 
 with that beauty, but he kicked her on the slightest provo- 
 cation and flogged her white body with rods. She could not 
 
TAN MICHAEL. 399 
 
 live in a worse hell, for she lived without hope. Life had 
 begun to blossom for her in Kashkov, to blossom like 
 Spring, with the flower of love for Novovyeyski. She loved 
 him with her whole soul; with every faculty she lov^d that 
 knightly, noble and honest nature; and now she was the play- 
 thing and captive of this one-eyed monster. She had to 
 crawl to his feet and cower like a beaten dog, gaze into his 
 face, and watch his hands to see if they were about to seize 
 a rod or whip: she had to repress her sighs and tears. 
 
 She well knew that there was and could be no mercy for 
 her; for even if a miracle were to wrest her from those ter- 
 rible hands, she was no longer the old Zosia, white as the first 
 snows, and able to give love for love with an unsullied heart. 
 All that had gone never to return. But because the horrible 
 degradation of her present life was not the consequence of the 
 slightest fault of her own; far from it; she had hitherto 
 been a maiden stainless as a lamb, innocent as a dove, and 
 trusting as a child, simple and loving, therefore she could 
 not understand why such awful injustice should be visited 
 upon her, an injustice for which no recompence could be 
 made; or why God's inexorable wrath lay so heavy upon her; 
 and this distraction of her soul increased her agony and 
 despair. 
 
 Thus passed days, weeks, and months. It was winter when 
 Azya came to the plain of Kauchunkaury, and the march to 
 the borders of the Commonwealth did not begin till June. 
 The whole of this time for Zosia was one of shame, toil, and 
 anguish. For notwithstanding all her beauty and sweetness, 
 and although he kept her in his tent, Az} r a not only did not 
 love her, but on the contrary he hated her because she was 
 not Basia. He regarded her as a common captive and made 
 her work like one. She watered his horses and camels at 
 the river, carried water for his ablutions and wood for the 
 fire; she spread the skins for his bed and cooked his food. In 
 other divisions of the Turkish army women did not leave the 
 tents for fear of the janissaries and from custom; but the 
 camp of the Lipkov Tartars stood apart by itself and the cus- 
 tom of keeping their women in concealment was not common 
 with them, as they had become used to other ways while living 
 in the Commonwealth. What captives belonged to the com- 
 mon soldiers did not even cover their faces with yashmaks. 
 It is true that the women were not allowed to go outside the 
 Lipkov square, for beyond the bounds they would have cer- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 tainly been carried off; hut they could go everywhere in the 
 square itself about their domestic occupations in safety. 
 
 Notwithstanding the heavy labor, Zosia found a certain re- 
 lief in going for wood, or down to the river to water the 
 horses and camels; for she was afraid to weep in the tent, and 
 she could give free course to her tears with impunity along 
 the way. On one occasion while carrying an armful of wood 
 she met her mother, whom Azya had given to Halim. They 
 fell into each other's arms and it was necessary to tear them 
 apart; and though Azya afterwards flogged Zosia with rods, 
 not even sparing her head, still the meeting was sweet to her. 
 On another occasion, while washing linen for Azya at the 
 ford, Zosia saw Evka in the distance carrying pails of water. 
 Evka was groaning under their weight; her figure had greatly 
 altered and become heavier, but her features, although shaded 
 by the yaskmak, reminded Zosia of Adam, and her heart was 
 seized with such anguish that she felt a passing faintness. 
 However, they were afraid to speak to each other. 
 
 This fear gradually numbed and overcame every other 
 feeling in Zosia, till at last it supplanted all her desires, hopes, 
 and memories. Not to be beaten had become her chief aim. 
 In her place Basia would have slain Azya with his own knife 
 on the first day without any thought of the consequences; but 
 the timid Zosia who was still half a child and did not possess 
 Basia' s courage. At last she even came to regard it as tender- 
 ness if the terrible Azya under the impulse of momentary de- 
 sire approached her lips with his deformed face. Sitting in 
 the tent she kept her eyes fixed on her master in the effort to 
 divine whether or not he was angry, following his movements, 
 and trying to anticipate his wishes. 
 
 When she foresaw trouble and when his teeth began to 
 gleam beneath his moustache like the old Tukhay Bey, she 
 crawled to his feet half dead with terror and pressed her pale 
 lips to his boots, and embraced his knees convulsively, crying 
 like a child in distress: 
 
 "Don't beat me, Azya! don't beat me!" 
 
 He scarcely ever spared her; he gloated over her, not only 
 because she was not Basia, but also because she had been 
 Novovyeyski's betrothed. Azya had a fearless spirit, but so 
 awful were the accounts to be settled between him and Pan 
 Adam that at the thought of that giant with hellish venge- 
 ance hardened in his heart, the young Lipkov was seized with 
 a certain uneasiness. There was to be war; they might meet; 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 4OI 
 
 indeed, it was probable that they would. Azya could not 
 help thinking of this, and because the sight of Zosia prompted 
 the thoughts, he revenged himself upon her as if trying to 
 banish his own dread with the strokes of rods. 
 
 At length came the time when the Sultan gave the order to 
 march. Azya's Lipkovs were to form the vanguard followed 
 by the whole swarm of Dobrudja and Novogorod Tartars. 
 That had been arranged between the Sultan, the vizir, and 
 the kaimakan. But at first all went to the Balkans together. 
 The march was pleasant, for, on account of the increasing 
 heat, they marched only at night, with six hours between the 
 halts. Tar-barrels were lighted along the way and the 
 massaldjirals illuminated the road for the Sultan with colored 
 lights. The swarms of people flowed on like waves over limit- 
 less plains, filled the hollows of the valleys like locusts, and 
 covered the mountains. The armed men were followed by 
 the camp-followers with the harems and then came innumer- 
 able herds. 
 
 But in the marshes at the foot of the Balkans the gilded 
 and purple car of the kasseka was so deeply bogged that 
 twenty buffaloes were unable to extricate it from the mud. 
 "That is an evil omen for thee and the whole army, Lord," 
 said the chief mufti to the Sultan. "An evil omen!" repeated 
 the half-crazed dervishes in the camp. The Sultan was 
 alarmed and decided to send away all the women with the 
 wondrous kasseka. 
 
 The order was announced to the hosts. Those soldiers 
 who had nowhere to send their slaves, and loved them too 
 well to sell them to strangers, preferred to kill them. Thou- 
 sands of others were bought by the merchants of the cara- 
 vanserai to be afterwards sold in the markets of Stambul and 
 all the towns of Hither Asia. A sort of great fair lasted for 
 three successive days. Azya unhesitatingly offered Zosia for 
 sale: a wealthy old merchant of Stambul bought her for a 
 great price for his son. 
 
 He was a good-natured man, for at Zosia's tears and en- 
 treaties he purchased her mother from Halim; it is true that 
 he got her dirt-cheap. The following day they both set out 
 for Stambul in line with the other women. In Stambul 
 Zosia's lot was improved, though her degradation still en- 
 dured. Her new owner loved her and in a few months raised 
 her to the dignity of a wife. Thenceforth her mother was 
 not separated from her. 
 26 
 
402 
 
 PAN MfCHAEL. 
 
 Many people among whom were many women returned to 
 their native land after a long captivity. Moreover somebody, 
 by every possible means, by the medium of Armenian and 
 Greek merchants and the servants of the ambassadors of the 
 Commonwealth, had search made for Zosia, but without re- 
 sult. Then this search suddenly ceased and Zosia never 
 again saw her country, nor the faces of her dear ones. 
 
 She lived till her death in a harem. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Even before the Turks had moved from Adrianople there 
 was a beginning of great commotion in all the stanitsas 1 
 along the Dniester. Especially to Khreptyov, the nearest 
 stanitsa to Kamenets, the Hetman 7 s couriers were continually 
 hurrying with various orders; if they concerned him, the lit- 
 tle knight executed them himself, andif ^o:heforwardedthem 
 by trusty agents. The result of these orders vas considerably 
 to weaken the garrison of Khreptyov. Pan M'otovidlo with 
 his Semenovs went to Uman to aid Hanenkc who, with a 
 handful of Cossacks faithful to the Commonwealth, was doing 
 his beet against Doroshenko and the Crimean horde which 
 had joined him. Pan Mushalski the matchless archer, Pan 
 Snitko of the Hidden Moon escutcheon, Pan Nyenashinyets, 
 and Pan Hromyka led a squadron, together Linkhaus's dra- 
 goons, to Batch of unhappy memory, where Pan Lujetski was 
 posted to watch Doroshenko's movements with the assistance 
 of Hanenko; Pan Bogush was commanded to stay at Mohilov 
 till chambuls were visible with the naked eye. The Hetman's 
 instructions were eagerly seeking the famous Pan Rushchyts, 
 who as a warrior was alone surpassed by Volodiyovski; but 
 Pan Eushchyts had gone to the steppes at the head of a few 
 dozen men and disappeared as a drop fallen in water. They 
 did not hear of him till later, when strange rumors spread 
 that around Doroshenko's camp and about the detachments 
 of the horde a sort of evil spirit was hovering, daily cutting 
 off single warriors and small bodies. It was suspected that 
 this must be Pan Rushchyts who ventured so near the enemy, 
 for no other would strike in that way except the little knight. 
 In fact it was Pan Rushchyts. 
 
 As already decided, Volodiyovski had to go to Kamenets; 
 the Hetman needed him there, for he knew him to be a soldier 
 the sight of whom would pour comfort into all hearts, while 
 it would give an impetus to the inhabitants and the garrison. 
 The Hetman was convinced that Kamenets could not hold 
 
 1 Stanitsa means military post. 
 
 (403) 
 
4 4 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 out; his only object was that it should do so as long as pos- 
 sible, so as to enable the Commonwealth to collect forces for 
 its defence. With this conviction he sent his beloved soldiers 
 and the most famous cavalier of the Commonwealth to what 
 seemed certain death. 
 
 He sent the most famous warrior to death without com- 
 punction. The Hetman always thought what he said later 
 in Vienna that Paul Woynina might give birth to people, but 
 that Woyna only killed them. 1 He himself was ready to die. 
 He believed that to die in battle was the chief duty of a sol- 
 dier and that, when a soldier could render great service by 
 dying, death was a great favor and reward to him. The Het- 
 man also knew that the little knight agreed with him. 
 
 Moreover he had no time to think of sparing single soldiers 
 when destruction was approaching churches, towns, the coun- 
 try, and the entire Commonwealth; when in unheard of multi- 
 tudes the Orient was rising against Europe to conquer the 
 whole of Christendom, which, shielded by the breast of the 
 Commonwealth, had no thought of rendering assistance to it. 
 The Hetman' s sole object was that Kamenets should protect 
 the Commonwealth, and then the Commonwealth the rest of 
 Christendom. 
 
 This might have been if the Commonwealth had been 
 strong and not destro} r ed by disorder. But the Hetman had 
 not even sufficient forces for reconnaissances, much less for 
 war. If he hurried some dozens of soldiers to one spot it left 
 another without any, where an invading wave might pour 
 through without hindrance. The night-sentries posted by the 
 Sultan in his camp were more numerous than all the Hetman's 
 squadrons. The invasion was advancing in two directions, 
 from the Dnieper and Danube. The chief squadrons had gone 
 against Doroshenko because he was the nearer with the whole 
 Crimean horde and had already overrun the country with fire 
 and sword; in the other direction even simple scouts were 
 lacking. 
 
 In such dire extremity the Hetman wrote the few following 
 words to Pan Michael: 
 
 "I have already considered whether or no to send you to 
 face the foe at Eashkov, but I feared lest the horde should 
 cross by seven fords from the Moldavian bank and occupy the 
 country and you would not be able to reach Kamenets, where 
 
 1 A pun on the word 'Woyna/ war. Woynina is the feminine of woynaj 
 thu$ what lady Woynina produces Woyna destroys, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 405 
 
 you are absolutely needed. Only yesterday I remembered 
 Novovyeyski, who is an experienced and daring soldier, and 
 I think he will render me effective service, because a despair- 
 ing man will undertake anything. Send him whatever light 
 cavalry you can spare; let him advance as far as possible and 
 show himself everywhere and spread reports of our great army 
 when he comes in presence of the enemy; let him suddenly 
 appear in various places and avoid being captured. We know 
 how they will come; but if he observes anything fresh he is to 
 send you word at once and you will despatch a messenger 
 without delay to me and to Kamenets. Let Novovyeyski move 
 quickly and you yourself be ready to go to Kamenets, but 
 stay where you are until you receive tidings from Novovyeyski 
 in Moldavia." 
 
 As Pan Adam was then at Mohilov, and as it was said that 
 he was coming to Khreptyov in any case, the little knight 
 merely sent word to him to hasten because a commission from 
 the Hetman was awaiting him in Khreptyov. 
 
 Pan Adam arrived three days later. His acquaintances 
 scarcely recognized him and they thought that Pan Byalo- 
 glovski had good reason to call him a skeleton. He was no 
 longer that fine fellow, joyous and high-spirited, who of old 
 used to dash at the foe with bursts of laughter like the neigh- 
 ing of a horse, striking with the sweep of the sails of a wind- 
 mill. He had grown thin, yellow and black, but his thinness 
 made him look still more of a giant. When he looked at 
 people he blinked as if he did not recognize his most intimate 
 acquaintances; moreover, the same thing had to be repeated 
 twice or thrice to him, as at first he did not understand. It 
 seemed as if grief was flowing in his veins instead of blood; 
 he was evidently trying not to think of certain matters, pre- 
 ferring to forget them in order not to lose his reason. 
 
 It is true that in those parts there was not a man, nor a 
 family, nor a single army-officer who was not grieving for 
 some acquaintance, or friend, or near and dear one, or who 
 had not suffered some injury from Infidel hands; but simply 
 a whole cloud of calamity had burst upon Novovyeyski. In 
 one day he had lost father, sister, as well as his betrothed, 
 whom he loved with all the might of his exuberant soul. He 
 would far rather that his sister and that beloved sweet girl 
 had both died, or that they had perished by the knife or 
 flames. But such was their fate that the greatest torments 
 were nothing in comparison when Novovyeyski thought of 
 
406 P&X MICHAEL. 
 
 them. He tried not to dwell upon their fate, as he felt that 
 the thought of it bordered on madness; but without success. 
 
 His calmness was only assumed. Jn his soul there was not 
 the slightest resignation,, and at the first glance everybody 
 could tell that beneath his torpor was something ominous and 
 dreadful, and if it broke out this giant would do some awful 
 deed, like a destroying element. This seemed to be plainly 
 written on his brow, so that even his friends approached with 
 some timidity, and when they talked with him they did not 
 refer to past happenings. 
 
 The sight of Basia at Khreptyov reopened his closed 
 wounds, for as he kissed her hands in greeting he began to 
 groan like an aurochs when mortally wounded, his eyes grew 
 bloodshot, and the veins in his neck swelled like cords. When 
 the tearful Basia pressed his head with her little hands with 
 the affection of a mother he fell at her feet and was not able to 
 rise for some time. But when he learned what sort of duty 
 the Hetman had given him he livened up greatly; a gleam of 
 ominous joy illumined his face and he said: 
 
 "I will do that; I will do more!" 
 
 "And if you meet that mad dog, flay him/' cried Zagloba. 
 
 Novovyeyski made no immediate reply, but only looked at 
 Zagloba; his eyes flashed with sudden madness, he rose and 
 sprang towards the old noble as if he wanted to fall upon him. 
 
 "Do you believe," he cried, "that I have never done ill to 
 that man, and that I have always been kind to him?" 
 
 "I believe it, I believe it!" said Zagloba as he hastily got 
 behind the little knight. "I would accompanj you myself, 
 but the gout gnaws my feet." 
 
 "Novovyeyski," asked the little knight, "when lo you want 
 to start?" 
 
 "To-night." 
 
 "I will give you a hundred dragoons. I will remain here 
 I with another hundred and the infantry. Go to the square!" 
 
 They went out to issue orders. Zydor Lusnia was waiting 
 on the threshold as straight as a string. The news of the ex- 
 pedition had already spread through the square and the ser- 
 geant in the name of himself and his company had come to 
 beg the little colonel to let him accompany Pan Adam. 
 
 "How is this? Do you want to leave me?" asked the as- 
 tonished Pan Michael. 
 
 "Pan Commandant, we have made a vow against that son 
 pf a burned father, and perhaps he may fall into otir hands." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 407 
 
 "True! Pan Zagloba told me about it," answered the little 
 knight. 
 
 Lusnia turned to Novovyayski: 
 
 "Pan Commandant!" 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "If we catch him may I take care of him?" 
 
 "Such ferocious animal venom was painted on the features 
 of the Mazure that Novovyeyski immediately bent down to 
 Pan Michael and entreated: 
 
 "Your lordship, let me have this man!" 
 
 Volodiyovski did not think of refusing, and the same even- 
 ing about dusk a hundred horsemen set out on the journey 
 with Novovyeyski at their head. 
 
 They took the usual road through Mohilov and Yampol. 
 In Yampol they met the former garrison of Kashkov, two 
 hundred men of which joined Novovyeyski by the Hetman's 
 orders; the remainder, under the command of Pan Byalog- 
 lovski, were to proceed to Mohilov where Pan Bogush was 
 stationed. 
 
 Pan Adam moved down towards Rashkov. 
 
 The neighborhood of Rashkov was a complete waste: the 
 town itself had been reduced to a heap of ashes, which the 
 winds had been able to blow to the four points of the compass; 
 its few remaining inhabitants had fled before the expected 
 storm. It was already the beginning of May and the Dob- 
 rudja horde might appear at any moment, so that it was dan- 
 gerous to stay in that region. In fact the hordes were with 
 the Turks on the plain of Kauchunkaury, but at Rashkov 
 they did not know that, and so every one of the inhabitants 
 who had escaped the late massacre carried his head away in 
 good season whithersoever it appeared best to him. 
 
 Along the way Lusnia was forming plans and strategems 
 that he thought Novovyeyski ought to adopt if he really 
 wanted to succeed in outwitting the foe. He graciously un- 
 folded these ideas to the ranks. 
 
 "You horse-skulls -don't know anything about the matter," 
 he said to them, "you are not acquainted with it, but I am 
 old myself, and I know. We shall go to Rashkov and hide 
 there and wait. The horde will come to the ford and small 
 bodies will cross first as their custom is, because the chambul 
 halts and waits till they report whether it is safe or not; then 
 we shall steal out and drive them before us to Kamenets." 
 
 "But we may not catch that dog-brother that way," re- 
 marked one of the troopers. 
 
408 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Shut your mouth!" cried Lusnia. "Who will inarch io 
 the vanguard if not the Lipkov Tartars?" 
 
 In fact the foresight of the sergeant seemed to be justified. 
 When Novovyeyski reached Kashkov he let his men rest. 
 They all felt sure that they would go next to the caves, many 
 of which were in the vicinity, and hide there till the first 
 bodies of the raiders appeared. 
 
 But on the second day the commander roused his squadron 
 and led it beyond Eashkov. 
 
 "Are we going to Yahorlik, or what?" the sergeant asked 
 himself. 
 
 Meanwhile they neared the river just beyond Rashkov, and 
 a few Paters later they halted at the so-called Bloody Ford. 
 Without uttering a word Pan Adam_ spurred his horse into 
 the water and began to cross to the opposite bank. The sol- 
 diers began to gaze at one another in astonishment. 
 
 "How is this, are we going to the Turks?" But there were 
 not 'fine gentlemen' of the general militia, ready to call a 
 meeting and protest; they were simply soldiers used to the 
 iron discipline of the military posts, and so the men in the 
 first rank urged their horses into the water after their leader 
 and those of the second and third followed them. There was 
 not the slightest hesitation. They were astonished that with 
 three hundred horses they were marching against the power 
 of the Turk which the whole world could not conquer; but 
 they went. The water was soon splashing about the horses' 
 flanks, and then the men ceased wondering and only exercised 
 their minds to keep the sacks of food for themselves and the 
 horses from getting wet. 
 
 They only began to look at each other again on the oppo- 
 site bank. 
 
 "For God's sake! We are in Moldavia already!" they 
 whispered. 
 
 And some of them looked behind them across the Dniester, 
 which gleamed in the setting sun like a ribbon of red and gold, 
 The bright glow also flooded the cliffs of the river that were 
 full of caves. They rose like a wall at that moment separa- 
 ting that handful of men from their own land. It was in fact 
 the final parting for many of them. 
 
 The thought flashed through Lusnia's head that perhaps 
 the Commandant had <rone mad; but it was for the officer to 
 command and him to obey. 
 
 Meanwhile the horses, issuing from the water, began to 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 snort loudly in the ranks. "Zdrow! Zdrow!" (Good health) 
 was heard from the soldiers. They regarded the snorting as a 
 good omen and their hearts were somewhat comforted. 
 
 "Move on!" ordered Novovyeyski. 
 
 The ranks advanced towards the setting sun and towards 
 those thousands, those swarms of men, and those nations en- 
 camped at Kauchunkaury. 
 
CHAPTER XL1 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski's passage of the Digester, and his march, 
 with three hundred sabres against the power of the Sultan 
 numbering myriads of warriors, were actions that might be 
 regarded as sheer madness by anybody unacquainted with 
 war; but they were only bold warlike procedures that had 
 certain chances of success. 
 
 In the first place, the raiders of that time often went 
 against chambuls a hundred times more numerous; they came 
 within sight of the enemy and then disappeared and made 
 a bloody slaughter of their scattered pursuers. Just as a 
 wolf sometimes lures the dogs after him so as to turn at the 
 right moment and kill the one that is pressing him hardest; 
 so did they. In the twinkle of an eye the quarry became 
 the hunter; he started off, hid and feinted, and, though pur- 
 sued, he himself hunted, made an unexpected attack and 
 bit to death. This was called 'the Tartar trick/ by which 
 each party tried to outdo the other in stratagems, tricks, and 
 ambushes. The most celebrated man at this business was 
 Pan Michael, and next came Pan Eushchyts, and then Pan 
 Pivo, and then Pan Motovidlo; but Novovyeyski, who had 
 warred in the steppes from childhood, belonged to the num- 
 ber of those who were mentioned among the most famous, 
 and therefore it was very probable that when he came in 
 the presence of the horde he would not let himself be cap- 
 tured. 
 
 The expedition also had chances of success because there 
 were wild regions beyond the Dniester in which it was easy 
 to hide. Settlements only appeared here and there along 
 the rivers and the country was little inhabited for the most 
 part; it was rocky and hilly by the Dniester, but farther in- 
 land were steppes, or the land was covered with forests in 
 which strayed numerous herds of animals, from wild buf- 
 faloes, to hinds, harts, and wild-boars. Before the expedition, 
 the Sultan wanted to estimate his strength and count his 
 forces, the hordes dwelling on the Nij Dniester, and Byalo- 
 (410) 
 
PAA T MICHAEL. 4tl 
 
 grod, and the Dobrudja still farther away, had marched to 
 the south of the Balkans at the Sultan's command, and the 
 forces of Moldavia had followed them, so that the country 
 had become more deserted than ever and it was possible to 
 travel for a week without being seen by anybody. 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski was too familiar with Tartar ways not 
 to know that when the chambuls had once passed the border 
 of the Commonwealth they would advance with greater cau- 
 tion, keeping strict watch on every side; but that in their 
 own country they would move in wide columns without spe- 
 cial care. And indeed they did so; the Tartars would have 
 considered themselves more likely to meet Death himself 
 than to meet in the depths of Bessarabia, in the very haunts 
 of the Tartars, the forces of that Commonwealth which had 
 not sufficient troops to protect its- own border. 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski was confident that, in the first place his 
 expedition would surprise the enemy, and would therefore 
 do more good even than the Hetman had hoped, and in the 
 second, that it might be fatal to Azya and his Lipkovs. It 
 was easy for the young lieutenant to guess that the Lipkovs 
 and Cheremis would form the vanguard, as they were well 
 acquainted with the country, and he placed his chief hope 
 on that certainty. All that Novovyeyski's tortured spirit 
 desired was to fall unexpectedly on Azya and capture him, 
 and perhaps rescue his sister and Zosia, snatch them from 
 slavery, wreak his vengeance, and then fall in battle. 
 
 Buoyed up by these thoughts and hopes, Novovyeyski 
 shook off his torpor and revived. His march along unknown 
 ways, his severe toil, the wide-blowing wind of the steppes, 
 and the peril of the daring undertaking improved his health 
 and restored his former strength. The man of misfortune 
 in him began to yield to the warrior. Until now there had 
 been no room in his heart for anything but memories and 
 anguish; but now for whole days he had to think how an 
 enemy should act and rend. 
 
 After passing the Dniester they struck a diagonal and 
 went down towards the Pruth. During the day they often 
 hid in reeds and forests, and made secret and forced marches 
 at night. The country was not much inhabited so far, and 
 was principally occupied by nomads and the greater part 
 of it was desolate. Very rarely they came across fields of 
 maize with houses near by. 
 
 Making secret marches they endeavored to avoid the larger 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 settlements, but they frequently halted at smaller ones of one, 
 two, three, or even a number of huts; they boldly entered 
 these, as they knew that none of the inhabitants would think 
 of fleeing before them to Budziak and warning the Tartars 
 there. However Lusnia took good care that this should not 
 happen, though he soon omitted the precaution, as he was 
 satisfied that these few settlements, although partly subject 
 to the Sultan, were anticipating his troops with dread; and 
 moreover that they had no idea what sort of people had ar- 
 rived, and took the detachment for a Karalash body who were 
 following the others at the Sultan's command. 
 
 Without opposition, the inhabitants supplied them corn, 
 cakes, and dried buffalo-meat. Every one had his flock of 
 sheep, his buffaloes, and horses in hiding near the rivers. 
 Sometimes also numerous herds of half-wild buffaloes ap- 
 peared attended by herdsmen. These herdsmen lived on the 
 steppes in tents and only stayed in one place as long as grass 
 was plentiful. They were often old Tartars. Novovyeyski 
 surorunded these as carefully as though they had been a 
 chambul and did not spare them, for fear they might send 
 tidings of his coming to Budziak. After inquiring of the 
 Tartars concerning the roads, or rather the trackless country, 
 he mercilessly slew them so that not a foot should escape. 
 From the herds he then took as many heads as he needed and 
 went on. 
 
 The detachment went southwards and now more often 
 met with herds that were almost exclusively guarded by 
 Tartars in considerable bodies. In two weeks' marching 
 Novovyeyski surrounded and slew three parties of shepherds 
 of some dozens of men. The dragoons always took the sheep- 
 skin coats, cleaned them over the fire, and put them on, so 
 as to look like wild herdsmen and shepherds. In another 
 week they were all dressed like Tartars and looked exactly 
 ' like a chambul. They only retained the weapons of regular 
 cavalry; but they kept their jackets strapped to their saddles, 
 so as to resume them when they returned. Close at hand 
 they might be recognized by their yellow moustaches and 
 blue eyes; but from a distance the most experienced might be 
 deceived by their appearance, and the more so as they drove 
 before them the cattle needed for food. 
 
 They approached the Pruth and marched along its left 
 bank. Since the Kuchman trail was in too desolate a region, 
 it was plain that the Sultan's forces and the horde in the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 vanguard would march through Falezi, Hush, Kotirnore, 
 and then only by the Wallachian border, either turning to- 
 wards the Dniester, or going as straight as the swathe of a 
 sickle through all Bessarabia to issue on the Commonwealth 
 frontier near Ushytsa. Pan Novoyetski was so sure of this 
 that he went more and more slowly and warily; so as not 
 to come across chambuls too suddenly. At last he arrived 
 at the confluence of the Sarat and Tekich and stopped there 
 for a long halt, first to rest his men and horses, and second, 
 to await the coming of the horde in a favorable lurking-place. 
 
 The spot was well sheltered and carefully selected; be- 
 cause both banks of the two rivers were covered with the cor- 
 nelian brush and dogwood. This bush extended as far as 
 the eye could reach covering the ground in places with thick 
 brush, and in others forming clumps of bushes among which 
 were open spaces convenient for a camp. At that season the 
 trees and bushes had shed their blossoms, but in early Spring 
 there must have been a sea of yellow and white flowers. The 
 spot was deserted by mankind, but it swarmed with game, 
 such as deer, antelopes, and rabbits; and with birds. Here 
 and there also, on the margin of a spring, the soldiers found 
 the tracks of bears. When the party arrived one man killed 
 a couple of sheep. Lusnia, in consequence, wanted to have 
 a sheep-hunt, but Novovyeyski would not allow muskets to 
 be used, as he wanted to lie in concealment; so the soldiers 
 hunted with boar-spears and axes. 
 
 They found, later, traces of fires near the water, but they 
 were probably old ones of last year. It was evident that oc- 
 casionally nomads visited the place with their herds, or per- 
 haps Tartars came there to cut wood for handles. But the 
 strictest search did not reveal a human being. 
 
 Novovyeyski decided to go no further, but to await the 
 coming of the Turkish army there. 
 
 They laid out a square, built huts, and waited. Sentries 
 were posted at the edge of the wood, some watched day and 
 night towards Budziak; others towards Falezi and the Pruth. 
 Pan Adam knew that certain signs would announce the ap- 
 proach of the Sultan's forces; he also sent out small scouting- 
 parties and usually led them himself. The weather was very 
 favorable for a halt in that dry region. The days were warm 
 but it was easy to escape the heat in the shade of the wood; 
 the nights were clear, trnnquil, and moonlight, and the 
 woods were tremulous with the nightingale's songs. On such 
 
4I4 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 nights Pan Novovyeyski's sufferings were greatest as he could 
 not sleep; his thoughts reverted to his former happiness and 
 dwelt on the present days of anguish. 
 
 He only lived in the thought that when he had glutted his 
 heart with vengeance his mind would regain peace and hap- 
 uiness. Meanwhile the time was approaching when he would 
 fulfill his vengeance or die. 
 
 Week after week went by in foraging in wild places and 
 keeping watch. During this time they examined all the 
 trails, ravines, clearings, rivers and streams, again collected 
 a number of herds and slew some small parties of nomads; 
 and kept constant vigil in the grove like a wild beast await- 
 ing its prey. At length the expected moment came. 
 
 One morning they >saw flocks of birds darkening the earth 
 and sky. Bustards, partridges, and blue-legged quails were 
 hurrying through the grass towards the thicket; through the 
 heavens were flying ravens, crows, and even aquatic birds, 
 that had evidently been scared on the banks of the Danube, 
 or in the swamps of the Dobrudja. When they saw this the 
 dragoons gazed at one another and the words, "They are 
 coming, they are coming!" flew from lip to lip. Faces im- 
 mediately lighted up, mouths began to twitch, and eyes to 
 flash; but there was not the least alarm in this excitement. 
 These were all men whose lives had been spent in irregular 
 warfare, and so they experienced only what a hound feels 
 when he scents game. Fires were extinguished in a mo- 
 ment, so that the presence of those in the thicket might not 
 be revealed by the smoke; the horses were saddled and the 
 whole troop stood ready for action. 
 
 It was necessary so to arrange the time as to fall upon the 
 enemy during a halt. Pan Novovyeyski quite understood 
 that the Sultan's forces would not march in close order, par- 
 ticularly in their own country, where danger was entirely 
 improbable. He also knew that the vanguards usually 
 marched from five to ten miles in advance of the main army. 
 He had good reason to hope too that the Lipkovs would lead 
 the vanguard. 
 
 For some time 'he was uncertain whether to advance to 
 them by hidden ways, with which he had acquainted him- 
 self, or await their approach in the woods. He took the latter 
 course because it was easier to make an unexpected attack from 
 the woods. Another day and night passed during which 
 not only swarms of birds but beasts of the earth came to 
 the woods in droves. The next morning the enemy appeared. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 415 
 
 To the Aouth of the wood a wide rolling meadow extended 
 till it was lost o>n the far horizon. The enemy appeared on this 
 meadow and rapidly approached the Tekich. From the trees 
 the dragoons watched that dark mass that sometimes dis- 
 appeared behind the hills and then appeared again in full 
 array. 
 
 Lusnia, who had remarkably keen sight gazed intently for 
 some time at the approaching mass; then he advanced to 
 Novovyeyski and said: 
 
 "Pan Commandant, there are not many men; they are only 
 driving the herds out to pasture." 
 
 Novovyeyski soon satisfied himself that Lusnia was correct 
 and his face gleamed with satisfaction. 
 
 "That means that their halting place is five or six miles 
 from this wood/' he said. 
 
 "It does/' Lusnia replied. "They evidently march at night 
 to escape the heat, and sleep during the day; they are now 
 sending the horses out to pasture till the evening." 
 
 "Are the horses strongly guarded?" 
 
 Lusnia again went to the edge of the wood and stayed there 
 for a longer time. At last he appeared and said: 
 
 "There are about fifteen hundred horses and twenty-five 
 men with them. They are in their own country and have 
 nothing to fear, and so do not keep a strong guard." 
 
 "Could you recognize the men?" 
 
 "They are still distant, but they are Lipkovs. They are 
 ours already!" 
 
 "They are," said Novoyeyski. 
 
 Indeed he was satisfied that not a living soul of them 
 would escape. It was a very easy matter for such a leader 
 as himself with such soldiers as he led. 
 
 In the meantime the herdsmen were driving the horses 
 nearer and nearer to the wood. Lusnia went to the edge 
 again and returned with a face illuminated with gladness 
 and ferocity. 
 
 "Lipkovs, Sir!" he whispered, "sure!" 
 
 When he heard that Novovyeyski made a noise like a fal- 
 con and immediately a body of dragoons advanced into the 
 thick woods. There they separated into two parties, one of 
 which disappeared down a defile to issue in the rear of the 
 herd and the Tartars; the other formed a semi-circle and 
 waited. 
 
 All this passed so quietly that the most trained ear could 
 
4 i6 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 not have caught a sound; not a sabre nor spur rattled; not 
 a horse neighed, and the thick sward deadened the train}) 
 of hoofs; moreover the very horses seemed to comprehend 
 that the success of the attack depended on silence, for it was 
 not the first time they had been engaged in such service. 
 From the gulley and the bushes nothing was audible but 
 the cry of the falcon gradually growing fainter and less fre- 
 quent. 
 
 The herd of Lipkov horses stopped in front of the wood 
 and scattered over the meadow in groups of various size. 
 Pan Adam himself was then near the margin following the 
 movements of the herdsmen. It was a clear day in the fore- 
 noon, but the sun was already high and casting its hot rays 
 upon the earth. The horses began to roll and presently they 
 approached the wood. The keepers rode to the edge of the 
 wood, dismounted, and tethered their horses with long ropes* 
 then in search of shade and cool spots they entered the grove 
 and lay down to rest under the largest bushes. 
 
 Soon some dry sticks burst into a flame, when they had 
 turned to embers and were covered with ashes the herdsmen 
 put half a colt on them and sat down at some distance to 
 escape the heat. 
 
 Some extended themselves on the grass, while others 
 talked, sitting in groups in the Turkish fashion; one began 
 to play on the pipe. Complete silence prevailed in the 
 thicket, and only the falcon was occasionally heard. 
 
 The odor of burned flesh at last announced that the roast 
 was ready. Two men withdrew it from the ashes and 
 dragged it to <a shady tree where they sat in a circle cutting 
 the meat with their knives and devouring it like animals. 
 Blood flowed from the half-raw strips, bathing their fingers 
 and trickling down their beards. 
 
 After they had ended eating and had drunk sour mare's 
 milk out of cups they began to rub their stomachs in reple- 
 tion. Then they talked for a time until their heads and 
 limbs grew heavy. The afternoon came. The heat beat 
 down more and more strongly from Heaven. The ground 
 of the forest was streaked with quivering light as it pierced 
 the dense foliage. Everything was still and even the falcons 
 had ceased to call. 
 
 Several Tartars got up and went to look at the horses; 
 others stretched themselves out like corpses on a battlefield 
 and were soon overcome by sleep. But their sleep after 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 much meat and drink was somewhat heavy and disturbed, 
 for now and then one would groan heavily and another would 
 open his eyes for a moment and cry, "Allah, BismillahP 
 
 Suddenly on the edge of the wood a faint and dreadful 
 sound was heard like the short gasp of a choked man who 
 had no time to call out. Whether the hearing of the herds- 
 men was so keen, or some animal instinct had warned them 
 of danger, or whether, lastly, Death had blown upon them 
 with cold breath, it is sufficient that they sprang from then 
 sleep in an instant. 
 
 "What is that? Where are the men with the horses ?" 
 they began to ask each other. A voice from the thicket then 
 said in Polish: 
 
 "They won't come back!" 
 
 That moment a hundred and fifty men surrounded the 
 herdsmen, who were so terrified that the cry died on their lips. 
 One here and there scarcely managed to grasp his dagger. 
 The circle of assailants covered and completely concealed 
 them. The brush trembled with the swaying of human 
 bodies which were struggling in a confused mass. The whizz 
 of blades and sometimes panting, groaning, or wheezing was 
 audible; but this lasted only for a moment and then all was 
 still. 
 
 "How many are alive ?" asked a voice among the assailants. 
 
 "Five, Pan Commandant.'' 
 
 "Examine the bodies; give every man a knife in the throat 
 lest any escape, and bring the prisoners to the fire." 
 
 The order was carried out in an instant. The corpses were 
 pinned to the sward with their own knives; after having their 
 feet bound to sticks the prisoners were brought up to the 
 fire which Lusnia had raked so that the embers under the 
 ashes were brought to the top. 
 
 The captives gazed at Lusnia and at these preparations 
 with starting eyes. There were three Lipkovs of Khreptyov 
 among them who were perfectly well acquainted with the 
 sergeant. He also knew them and said: 
 
 "Well, comrades, now you must sing, or you will go to 
 the other world with roasted soles. I will not stint the fire 
 for the sake of old acquaintance." 
 
 Then he threw some dry sticks on the fire which immedi- 
 ately leaped up in tall flames. 
 
 Then Pan Adam approached and commenced the examina- 
 tion. From the confessions of the captives it appeared that 
 27 
 
4i 8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 what the young lieutenant had already divined was the truth. 
 The Lipkovs and Cheremis were marching in the vanguard 
 in front of the horde and all the troops of the Sultan. They 
 were led by Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey, who had received 
 the command over all the detachments. In common with 
 the whole army they marched at night on account of the heat 
 and pastured their herds during the day. They sent out 
 no scouts, because nobody imagined that they would be at- 
 tacked even near the Dniester, much less at the Pruth in 
 the very haunts of the horde; therefore they marched easily 
 with their herds and the camels carrying the tents of the 
 officers. Murza Azya's tent was easily recognized by the 
 bunchuk above it and the banners of the various companies 
 were set up near it at the halt. The camp was four or five 
 miles away and it contained about two thousand men, but 
 some of them had remained with the Byalogrod horde which 
 followed about five miles behind. 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski made further inquiries concerning the 
 best way to reach the camp and how the tents were arranged 
 and lastly of what most deeply concerned him. 
 
 "Are any women in the tent?" 
 
 The Lipkovs trembled for their skins. Those among them 
 who had served at Khreptyov knew perfectly well that Pan 
 Novovyeyski was the brother of one of those women and 
 the betrothed of the other; they therefore understood what 
 would be his fury when he learned the whole truth. 
 
 That fury might first fall upon them; therefore they hesi- 
 tated, but Lusnia immediately cried: 
 
 "Pan Commandant, we'll warm their soles for the dog- 
 brood; then they will speak." 
 
 "Thrust their feet into fire/ 7 cried Pan Novovyeyski. 
 
 "Have mercy!" cried Elyashevich, an old Lipek from 
 Khreptyov. "I will tell all that my eyes have seen." 
 
 Lusnia glanced towards the commander to see if he was to 
 cany out the threat notwithstanding this answer; but Pan 
 Novovyeyski shook his head, and said to Elyashevich: 
 
 "Tell what you have seen." 
 
 "We are innocent, master, we were under orders. The 
 murza gave your gracious sister to Pan Adurovich, who kept 
 her in his tent. I saw her at Kauchunkaury as she was going 
 with pails for water and I helped her to carry them, for her 
 condition was such that they were heavy. . . . 
 
 "Woe!" groaned Novovyeyski. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 4 ! 9 
 
 "But our murza himself had the other kdy in his tent. 
 We did not see her often, but we heard her screams more 
 than once, for though the murza kept her for his pleasure he 
 beat her with rods and kicked her. . . . 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski's lips began to quiver and Elyashevich 
 scarcely heard the question: 
 
 "Where are they now?" 
 
 "Sold 'in Stambul." 
 
 "To whom?" 
 
 "The murza himself does not know. The Padishah gave 
 orders that no women were to be kept in camp. They all 
 sold their women in the bazaar; the murza sold his/' 
 
 The explanation was ended and silence fell around the 
 fire; but for some time a sultry afternoon wind had been 
 moving the branches that sounded more and more heavily. 
 The air was growing stifling and on the horizon black clouds 
 were rising, murky in the centre and with a coppery gleam 
 along the edges. 
 
 Pan Adam strode away from the fire like a madman taking 
 no heed of where he went. At length he fell with his face 
 to the earth and began to tear it up with his nails, and then 
 to gnaw at his fingers and gasp like a dying man. His gi- 
 gantic body writhed convulsively and he lay so for hours. 
 The dragoons watched him from a distance, but not even 
 Lusnia dared to approach him. 
 
 Being satisfied that he would not incur the wrath of his 
 commander by not sparing the Lipkovs, the terrible sergeant, 
 prompted by sheer innate cruelty, stuffed their mouths with 
 grass to prevent a noise and slaughtered them like bullocks. 
 He only spared Elyashevich, thinking he might be needed 
 as a guide. After finishing this work he dragged the still 
 quivering bodies away from the fire and laid them out in a 
 row; then he went to look <at the commander. 
 
 "We must catch that man yonder, even if he has gone 
 mad/' Lusnia muttered. 
 
 Midday and afternoon had passed and evening was now 
 coming on. But the clouds which -were small at first now 
 covered half the sky and were constantly growing denser 
 and darker, without losing the coppery gleam along the 
 edges. The gigantic masses rolled heavily like millstones 
 upon their own axes; then they semed to fall upon and crowd 
 and push one another from above and roll in dense masses 
 down nearer and nearer to the earth. . . Now and then 
 
420 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 the wind swooped with its wings like a bird of prey mid bent 
 the cornelian and dogwood trees to the ground and tore oil' 
 clouds cf lea,ves and carried them furiously away; sometimes 
 there was a dead lull as if it had fallen to the earth. During 
 these lulls there was heard among the rending cloucb an 
 omnious growling and shrieking and rattling, as if a legion 
 of thunders were gathering in them and preparing for battle, 
 growling in deep tones to excite the rage and iury in their 
 own breasts before bursting forth and wildly striking the 
 terrified world. 
 
 "A tempest! a tempest is coming!" the dragoons muttered 
 to each other. 
 
 The tempest was coming. The atmosphere was becoming 
 momentarily darker. 
 
 Then in the east towards the Dniester the thunder arose 
 and rolled across the sky with a dreadful roar till it died 
 away beyond the Pruth; there it ceased for a moment but 
 again breaking forth, it rolled towards the steppes of Bud- 
 ziak and along the whole horizon. 
 
 Big drops of rain began to fall on the dried grass. At that 
 moment Pan Novovyeyski stood before the dragoons. 
 
 "To horse!" he cried in mighty tones. 
 
 /And in the space of one hurried Pater he was riding at 
 the head of a hundred and fifty troopers After issuing from 
 the wood near the herd of horses he joined the other half of 
 his men who had been keeping guard at the side of the mea- 
 dow r to prevent the escape of any of the herdsmen from the 
 camp. The dragoons darted around the herd in the twinkle 
 of an eye, uttering shrill cries peculiar to the Tartars, and 
 advanced driving the panic-stricken horses before them. 
 
 The sergeant held Elyashevich with a lasso and shouted 
 in his ear trying to outroar the thunder: 
 
 "Lead the way dog-blood, and straight, or a knife in your 
 throat!" 
 
 The clouds were now rolling so low as almost to touch the 
 earth. Suddenly they burst like the explosion of a furnace 
 and a furious tempest was let loose; then a blinding flash 
 rent the darkness, followed by a clap of thunder and then n 
 second and a third; the smell of sulphur pervaded the at- 
 mosphere and again there was gloom. The herd of horses 
 was seized with terror. Driven on by the wild cries of the 
 dragoons they galloped with wide nostrils and flying manes 
 scarcely touching the earth in their fight; the thunder 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 421 
 
 roared continually and the horses rushed madly on in the 
 wind and darkness amid explosions in which the earth seemed 
 to be breaking. Driven forward by the storm and by ven- 
 geance, they seemed to be a terrible band of vampires or evil 
 spirits in that wild steppe. Space vanished in front of them. 
 There was no need of a guide, for the herd ran direct to 
 the Lipkov camp which was closer and closer. But before 
 they had galloped so far the tempest was unchained as if 
 earth and sky had gone mad. The entire heavens blazed 
 with living fire, by the flash of which the tents were visible 
 standing on the steppe; the earth was trembling with the 
 crash of thunder and it seemed as if at any moment the 
 clouds might burst and fall upon the earth. It seemed that 
 their sluices were opened and torrents of rain began to 
 deluge the steppe. The downpour was so dense that nothing 
 was visible a few paces distant and a thick mist rose from the 
 sunbaked earth. 
 
 The herd and dragoons will soon be in the camp now. 
 
 But immediately in front of the tents the herd divided and 
 dashed to . either side in wild panic; three hundred throats 
 uttered a frightful yell; three hundred sabres glittered in the 
 flash of the lightning and the dragoons fell upon the tents. 
 
 Before the torrent of rain burst, the Lipkovs had seen 
 the approaching herd in the glare of the lightning; but none 
 of them knew what terrible herdsmen were driving them. 
 They were seized with amazement and alarm and wondered 
 why the herd was rushing direct for the tents and then they 
 began to shout to frighten them away. Azya, the son of 
 Tukhay Bey, pushed aside his canvas door and not withstand- 
 ing the rain he went out with anger on his scowling face. 
 But at that moment the herd divided and amid the torrents 
 of rain appeared savage forms, black and much more nu- 
 merous than the horse-herds; and then was heard the terrible 
 cry: 
 
 "Smite! kill! ... j 
 
 There was no time for anything: not even to guess what 
 had happened, nor even to be frightened. The whirlwind 
 of men, far more dreadful and raging than the storm, 
 swooped on the camp. Before the son of Tukhay Bey could 
 take one step back to his tent he was snatched up with a force 
 that seemed superhuman. Suddenly he felt crushed in a 
 terrible embrace till his hours lu'iil and his ribs broke from 
 the pressure; then, as though through a mist, he saw a face 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 to which he would have preferred to see that of Satan, and 
 he swooned. 
 
 By that time the fight, or rather the ghastly slaughter, had 
 commenced. The tempest, the gloom, the unknown number 
 of the assailants, the suddeness of the attack and the dis- 
 persion of the horses were the causes of the faint resistance 
 of the Lipkovs. They were simply seized with the madness 
 of terror. No one knew in what direction to escape or where 
 to hide. Many of them had no weapons at hand and the 
 attack found many others asleep. They therefore masted 
 together, stunned, bewildered, and terrified, jostling, up- 
 setting and trampling each other. They were driven back 
 and overthrown by the chests of the horses and slashed by 
 sabres and mashed by hoofs. No tempest breaks, destroys, 
 and lays waste a young forest, no wolves rend a flock of be- 
 wildered sheep as the dragoons trampled and cut down those 
 Lipkovs. Bewilderment on the one hand, and fury and 
 vengeance on the other, filled the measure of their misfor- 
 tune. Torrents of blood mingled with the rain. It seemed 
 to the Lipkovs as if the heavens were falling upon them and 
 the earth was opening under th^ir feet. The flashing of 
 the lightning, the roar of the thunder, the rush of the rain, 
 and the terror of the tempest answered the awful cries of 
 the slain. The horses of the dragoons also, maddened with 
 fright dashed into the throng, breaking and casting men 
 to the earth. At length the smaller groups began to take 
 to flight, but they had so lost their bearings that they ran 
 about on the field of strife instead of fleeing straight r.head, 
 and they frequently collided like two opposing waves and 
 upset each other and fell under the sword. At last the dra- 
 goons completely scattered what was left of them and slew 
 them in the rout, taking no prisoners and mercilessly pur~ 
 suing them till the trumpets recalled them from the pursuit. 
 
 Never was an attack more unexpected, nor a calamity more 
 dreadful. Three hundred men had scattered to the four 
 winds of the earth nearly two thousand picked cavalry whose 
 training was incomparably superior to un ordinary chambul. 
 The majority of them were prostrate in red pools of blood 
 and rain. The rest had dispersed and hid their heads, thanks 
 to the darkness, and escaped on foot at random, uncertain 
 whether they would run under the blade a second time. The 
 victors were 'aided by the tempest and darkness, as though 
 the wrath of the Lord were fighting on their side against 
 traitors. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 423 
 
 Night had entirely fallen when Pan ISTovovyeyaM started 
 at the head of his dragoons to return to the frontier of the 
 Commonwealth. A horse from the herd moved between the 
 young lieutenant and sergeant Lusnia. On the back of this 
 horse, bound with cords, lay the leader of all the Lipkov 
 Tartars, Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey, swooning and with 
 broken ribs. 
 
 They both looked at him from time to time as carefully 
 and anxiously as if they were carrying a treasure and were 
 afraid of losing it. 
 
 The storm began to abate. In the sky heaps of clouds 
 were still scurrying, but in the rents between them the stars 
 were beginning to shine and be reflected in pools of water 
 formed on the steppes by the heavy rain. In the distance 
 towards the frontier of the Commonwealth thunder still oc- 
 casionally rumbling. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I The fugitive Lipkovs carried the news of the disaster to 
 I the Byalogrod horde. From them couriers took the tidings 
 on to the Ortu-i-Humayun that is, to the camp of the 
 Padishah, where it made a sensation. 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski had no need to make such haste to flee 
 with his booty to the Commonwealth, for the fact was that 
 not only was he not pursued at once, but also for the two 
 following days. The Sultan was so amazed that he did not 
 know what to do. He immediately despatched Byalogrod 
 and Dobrudja chambuls to ascertain what forces were in the 
 neighborhood. They went unwillingly, for with them it was 
 a question of their own skins. Meanwhile the news spread 
 from lip to lip and assumed the proportions of a considerable 
 calamity. Men from the depths of Asia and Africa who had 
 not hitherto fought against the Poles, and who had heard 
 tales of the terrible cavalry of the unbelievers, were terrified 
 at the thought that they were already face to face with that 
 foe who did not wait for them within his own boundaries, but 
 sought them in the very dominions of the Padishah; the grand 
 vizir himself, and the "Rising Sun of War," the kaimakan, 
 Black Mustafa, did not know what to think of the attack 
 either. ISTo Turkish head could explain how that Common- 
 wealth, of whose weakness they had heard so much could 
 suddenly make an attack. It is sufficient that thenceforth 
 the march seemed less safe and an easy triumph less probable. 
 At the council of war the Sultan received the vizir and kai- 
 makan with a terrible countenance. 
 
 I "You have deceived me/' he said. "The Poles cannot be 
 so feeble, since they seek us even here. You told me that 
 Sobieski would not defend Kamenets, and now he is certainly 
 facing us with his whole army . . ." 
 
 The vizir and kaimakan tried to explain to their master 
 that this might be some detached party of marauders, but 
 they did not believe that themselves in view of the muskets 
 and straps holding the dragoon-jackets. Sobieski's late ex- 
 
 (424) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 pedition to the Ukraine, which was daring beyond measure 
 and yet victorious, permitted the supposition that on this 
 occasion also that terrible leader meant to be beforehand with 
 the enemy. 
 
 "He has no troops/ 7 said the grand vizir as they left the 
 council; "but in him there is a lion that knows no fear. If 
 he has asembled even a few thousand and is here, we shall 
 wade in blood to Khotsim." 
 
 "I should like to measure my strength with him," said 
 young Black Mustafa. 
 
 "May God preserve you from misfortune!" replied the 
 grand vizir. 
 
 Gradually however the Byalogrod and Dobrudja chambuls 
 became satisfied that not only -were there no large bodies of 
 troops, but none at all in the neighborhood. They discovered 
 the trail of a party of about three hundred horse that had 
 hastened towards the Dniester. The Horde, remembering 
 the fate of Azya's men, made no pursuit for fear of an am- 
 bush. The attack remained as something amazing and in- 
 explicable, but gradually, tranquillity was restored to the 
 Ortu-i-Humayun and the hosts of the Padishah again began, 
 to advance like a flood. 
 
 In the meantime Pan Novovyeyski was returning in safety 
 with his living booty to Piashkov. He made haste, but as ex- 
 perienced scouts ascertained on the second day that there was 
 no pursuit, notwithstanding his haste he moved slowly enough 
 not to overtire the horses. Azya, bound with cords to the 
 back of the horse, was always between Novovyeyski and 
 Lusnia. He had two broken ribs and grew extremely weak, 
 for even the wound inflicted by Basia in his face opened in 
 his struggle with Pan Adam and from riding face downwards. 
 The terrible sergeant was careful not to let him die before 
 reaching Rashkov and thus escape their vengeance. The 
 young Tartar wished to die. Knowing what was awaiting 
 him, he first tried to kill himself with hunger and refused to 
 take food; but Lusnia opened his clenched teeth with a knife 
 and forced down his throat gorzalka and Moldavian wine 
 .mixed with ground biscuits. When they halted they threw 
 water on his face, so that the wounds of his eye and nose, on 
 which flies had thickly settled during the journey, should not 
 mortify and bring death to the ill-fated villain. 
 
 Pan Adam did not speak to him along the way. Only 
 once, at the beginning of the journey, when Azya offered to 
 
426 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 restore Zosia and Eva as the price of life and liberty, the lieu- 
 tenant cried: 
 
 "Thou liest, dog! Thou hast sold them to a merchant of 
 Stambul who will re-sell them in the bazaar." 
 
 And immediately they brought forward Elyashevich who 
 repeated in the presence of everybody: 
 
 "It is so, Effendi. You sold her without knowing to 
 whom; and Adurovich sold the bagadir's sister although she 
 was with child by him." 
 
 After these words for awhile Azya thought that Xovovyey- 
 ski would crush him at once in his terrible grip. 
 
 Afterwards, when he had lost all hope, h'e determined to 
 provoke the young giant to kill him in a transport of fury and 
 so escape future torments. Since Novovyeyski did not want 
 to let his captive out of his sight and always rode near him, 
 Azya began to indulge in boundless and shameless boasts of 
 his deeds. He told how he had slaughtered old Novovyeyski, 
 and kept Zosia Boska in his tent, and gloated over her inno- 
 cence, and lacerated her body with rods, and kicked her. The 
 sweat rolled down Pan Adam's pale face in great drops. He 
 listened and could not and did not want to go away. He 
 listened eagerly, his hands trembled, his body shook convul- 
 sively; but he conquered himself and did not slay. 
 
 But while Azya tortured his enemy he also tortured him- 
 self, for the tales he told reminded him of his present mis- 
 fortunes. A few days ago he was in command of men and 
 living in luxury, a mnrza, and a favorite of the young kai- 
 makan, and now, bound to the back of a horse and eaten alive 
 by flies, he was going to a terrible death. Relief came when 
 he swooned with the pain of his wounds and with suffering. 
 This increased in frequency till Lusnia began to fear that he 
 might not get him back alive. But they travelled night and 
 day and only allowed the horses what rest was absolutely 
 necessary and Rashkov came nearer and nearer. . Still the 
 horned soul of the Tartar would not leave his afflicted body. 
 Instead of that his body was in a continual fever during the 
 last days, and sometimes he fell into a deep sleep. More than 
 once in that sleep or delirium he dreamed that he was still at 
 Khreptyov and that he had to accompany Volodiyovski to a 
 great war; again that he was escorting Basia to Rashkov, or 
 again that he had carried her off and hidden her in his tent; 
 sometimes in his fever he saw battles and slaughter where he 
 was issuing orders beneath his bunchuk as the Hetman of the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 4 2 7 
 
 Polish Tartars. But awaking came and consciousness with 
 it. Opening his eyes he saw the faces of Novovyeyski and 
 Lusnia and the shakos of the dragoons who had cast off the 
 sheepskin caps of the horseherds, and the reality was so hor- 
 rible that it really appeared a nightmare. Each motion of 
 the horse tortured him, his wounds burned more and more 
 and he fainted again. Transfixed with agony he again re- 
 turned to consciousness only to fall into delirious dreams and 
 wake again. 
 
 There were moments when it seemed impossible that this 
 miserable being could be Azya the son of Tukhay Bey; that 
 his life so full of unusual occurrences, and promise of a high 
 destiny, was to come to such a sudden and terrible end. 
 
 Sometimes also it came into his mind that after torture and 
 death he would go straight to Paradise; but, because he had 
 once professed Christianity and long lived among Christians, 
 he was seized with fear at the thought of Christ. Christ 
 would have no pity on him and if the Prophet were mightier 
 than Christ he would not have delivered him into the hands 
 of Pan Novovyeyski. Perhaps, however, the Prophet would 
 still have mercy and take away his soul before he was tortured 
 to death. 
 
 Meanwhile Rashkov was near. They entered the cliff dis- 
 trict that indicated the vicinity of the Dniester. In the even- 
 ing Azya fell into a half-delirious, half-conscious state, in 
 which illusions and reality were mingled. It seemed to him 
 that they had arrived and come to a halt and around him he 
 heard the wors "Rashkov! Rashkov!" Then he thought he 
 heard the sound of axes cutting wood. 
 
 Then he felt that people were dashing water on his head 
 and then for some time they kept pouring gorzalka down his 
 throat. After that he completely recovered his senses. A 
 starry xnght was above him and many torches were flaring 
 about him. He heard the following words: 
 
 "Is he conscious ?" 
 
 "Conscious. He seems in his right mind . . " 
 
 At that moment he saw Lusnia's face above him. 
 
 "Well, brother," said the sergeant in a quiet voice. "Thy 
 hour has come." 
 
 Azya was lying on his back and breathing freely, for his 
 arms were extended above his head, on account of which his 
 expanded breast rose freely and received more air than when 
 he was lying bound to the back of the horse. But he could 
 
428 PAH MICHAEL. 
 
 not move his arms, for they were tied to an oak staff placed 
 along his shoulders and were tied with straw dipped in tar. 
 The son of Tukhay Bey instantly divined the reason of this 
 but at the same moment he also noted other preparations that 
 told him that his torture would be protracted and horrible. 
 He was stripped from his waist to his feet, and slightly raising 
 his head, between his bare knees he saw a freshly-cut, pointed 
 stake, the butt of which was set against the stump of a tree. 
 From each of Azya's feet extended a rope leading to a whiffile- 
 tree to which a horse was attached. By the light of the 
 torches Azya could only see the rumps of the horses and two 
 men standing a little farther off who were evidently holding 
 the horses by the mouth. 
 
 The hapless villain took in these preparations at a glance; 
 then, for some unknown reason, looking at the sky, he saw 
 the stars and the shining crescent of the moon. 
 
 "They will drag me on," he thought. 
 
 And he immediately clenched his teeth so firmly that his 
 jaws were seized with a spasm. Sweat broke out on his brow 
 and at the same moment his face grew cold as all the blood 
 left it. Then he felt as if the earth were fleeing from under 
 him and his body were flying on and on through some bound- 
 less abyss. For a time he lost all consciousness of time and 
 space, and what they were doing to him. The sergeant opened 
 Azya's mouth with a knife and poured in some more gorzalka. 
 
 He coughed and spat out the fiery liquor, but was forced to 
 swallow some of it. Then he fell into a very strange state: 
 he was not intoxicated; on the contrary, his brain had never 
 been clearer nor his mind more active, He saw what they 
 were doing and comprehended it all; but he was seized with a 
 strange land of excitement, an impatience that it was taking 
 so long and that as yet nothing was beginning. 
 
 Then heavy steps were heard approaching and Pan Novovv- 
 eyski stood before him. At the sight of him every vein in 
 the Tartar's body quivered. He did not fear Lusnia as h 
 despised him too much. But he did not despise Pan Adam; 
 indeed he had no reason to do so; on the contrary, every 
 glance of his eye filled Azya with a certain superstitious terror 
 and aversion. At that moment he thought to himself, "Lamin 
 his power; I fear him!" and this was such a terrible feeling 
 that the hair of the son of Tukhay Bey stood upright on his 
 head. 
 
 And ISTovovyeyski said: 
 
 "For what thou hast done them shalt perish in torture/' 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 429 
 
 The Lipkov made no reply but began to pant audibly. 
 
 Novovyeyski departed and a silence followed that was 
 broken by Lusnia: 
 
 "Thou didst raise thy hand against the lady," he cried in 
 hoarse tones, "but now the lady is at home with her husband 
 and thou art in our hands. Thy hour has come." 
 
 With these words Azya's tortures commenced. That ter- 
 rible being at the hour of his death learned that his treachery 
 and cruelty had been of no avail. Even if Basia had died on 
 the road he would have been consoled by the thought that 
 even if she was not his still she would not belong to anyone 
 else and he was deprived of that consolation at the very mo- 
 ment when the point of the stake was within an ell's length 
 of his body. All had been in vain. So many treasons, so 
 much blood, such great impending punishment for nothing, 
 for nothing at all. . . Lusnia had no idea how death had 
 been embittered to Azya by those words; if he had known he 
 would have repeated them all along the way. 
 
 But there was no time for regrets now; everything must 
 yield to the execution. Lusnia stooped down and seizing 
 both hips he placed them in position and called cut to the 
 men who were holding the horses: 
 
 "Move on, but slowly, and together!" 
 
 The horses moved forward; the ropes became taut and pul- 
 led Azya's legs. % In an instant his body was dragged along 
 the earth and reached the point of the stake. Then the point 
 began to penetrate him and something horrible began, 
 something repugnant to nature and humanity. The bones 
 of the wretch separated; his body parted in two directions; in- 
 describable agony, so awful as almost to verge on some mon- 
 strous delight, passed through him. The stake sank deeper 
 and deeper. Azya set his teeth, but could not endure it; his 
 teeth were bared in a horrible grin and from his throat came 
 a noise like the croak of a raven: "Ah! ah! ah!" 
 
 "Slowly!" the sergeant ordered. 
 
 Then he shouted to the men: 
 
 "Pull together! Stop! There, it is finished." 
 
 And he turned towards Azya who had suddenly become 
 silent except for a deep rattle in his throat. 
 
 The horses were quickly unhitched; then the stake was set 
 up and planted with the thick end in a hole prepared for it 
 and earth was packed round it. The son of Tukhay Bey 
 looked down on the work. He was conscious. This norrible 
 species of punishment was the more awful in that the victims 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 of impalement sometimes lingered for three days. Azya's 
 head was bowed on his breast; his lips were moving and 
 smacking as if he were tasting something. He then experi- 
 enced extreme faintness and saw a kind of thick grey mist 
 before his eyes which seemed dreadful for some reason or 
 other, and in this mist he recognized the faces of the sergeant 
 and the dragoons and saw that he was on the stake and that 
 the weight of his own body was sinking him deeper and 
 deeper. Then he began to get numb from the feet upwards 
 and less and less* sensitive to pain. 
 
 Sometimes that grey mist became obscured and then he 
 would blink with his sound eye in the desire to witness every- 
 thing before his death. His gaze wandered persistently from 
 torch to torch, for it seemed that there was a rainbow circle 
 round each flame. 
 
 But his tortures were not over: presently the sergeant ap- 
 proached the stake with an augur in his hand and cried to 
 those about: 
 
 "Lift me up." 
 
 Two strong men hoisted him. Azya began to watch him 
 narrowly, blinking, as if trying to find out what kind of man 
 was climbing up to his elevation. Then the sergeant said: 
 
 "The lady knocked out one eye, and I vowed to bore out 
 the other." * 
 
 Then he drove the point into the pupil and gave a couple 
 of twists and, when the lid and delicate skin surrounding the 
 eye were wound round the thread of the augur, he gave a jerk. 
 
 Then two streams of blood gushed from Azya's eye-sockets 
 and flowed down his cheeks like two streams of tears. 
 
 His face grew paler and paler. The dragoons extinguished 
 the torches in silence as if ashamed that light should shine on 
 such a dreadful deed, and from the moon's crescent fell faint 
 silvery rays on Azya's body. His head bowed low on his 
 breast; but his hands, bound to the oak staff and wrapped in 
 straw dipped in tar, were pointed upwards to the sky, as if 
 that son of the Orient were calling down the vengeance of the 
 Turkish crescent on his executioners. 
 
 "To horse!" was heard from Pan Adam. 
 
 Before mounting, with the last torch the sergeant set fire 
 to those uplifted hands of the Tartar, and the detachment 
 took their way towards Yampol. Amid the ruins of Rashkov 
 in the middle of the night and the desert, Azya, the son of 
 Tukhay Bey, remained on the lofty stake and gleamed 
 for a long time. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 Three weeks later at noon Pan Novovyeyski was at Khrept- 
 yov. He had been so slow in making the journey from Rash- 
 kov, because he had frequently crossed to the other bank of 
 the Dnieper to attack the chambuls and perkulabs of the Sul- 
 tan's forces at various stanitsas. Afterwards the latter in- 
 formed the Sultan's forces that they had seen Polish detach- 
 ments everywhere, and had heard of great armies that would 
 certainly not await the coming of the Turks at Kamenets, but 
 would oppose their advance and measure themselves with 
 them in a general battle. 
 
 The Sultan, who had been assured of the helplessness of the 
 Commonwealth, was amazed, and sending Lipkovs, Wal- 
 lachians, and Danubian hordes in advance, he slowly moved 
 forward, for, notwithstanding his overwhelming strength, he 
 dreaded a battle with the armies of the Commonwealth. 
 
 Pan Adam did not find Volodiyovski at Khreptyov, as the 
 little knight had followed Motovidlo to assist the governor of 
 Podlasia -against the Crimean horde and Doroshenko. There 
 he gained great victories and added fresh glory to his ancient 
 renown. He defeated the grim Korpan and left his body as 
 food for beasts on the wild fields; he crushed the terrible 
 Drozd, and the doughty Malyshka, and the two brothers Siny, 
 famous Cossack warriors, besides many smaller bands and 
 chambuls. 
 
 But when Pan Adam arrived, Pani Volodiyovska was just 
 making preparations to accompany the rest of the people and 
 the tabor to Kamenets, for the invasion made it necessary to 
 abandon Khreptyov. Basia was grieved to leave that wooden 
 fort where she had experienced many adventures, it is true, 
 but where the happiest part of her life had been spent with 
 her husband and in the midst of brave soldiers and loving 
 ones. At her own request she was now going to Kamenets, 
 to the unknown fortunes and perils incident to a siege. 
 
 But since she had a masculine spirit she did not give way 
 to grief, but carefully supervised the preparations for the 
 
 (431) 
 
432 PAN 
 
 benefit of the soldiers and the tabor. In this she was assisted 
 by Pan Zagloba, who in every adventure surpassed everybody 
 in capability, and by Pan Mushalski, the matchless archer, 
 who was moreover a soldier of dexterous hand and incom- 
 parable experience. 
 
 Everybody was delighted at the arrival of Pan Adam, al- 
 though the face of the knight at once revealed that he had 
 not freed Evka, nor the sweet Zosia from Pagan captivity. 
 Basia bewailed the fate of the two ladies with bitter tears, 
 since they must now be regarded as finally lost. Sold to they 
 knew not whom, they might be carried from the bazaars of 
 Stambul, to Asia Minor, or to islands under the Turkish 
 dominion, or to Egypt, and there be locked up in harems; 
 thus it was not only impossible to ransom them, but even to 
 learn where they were. 
 
 Basia wept, and so did the wise Zagloba, and even the 
 matchless archer, Mushalski. Pan ISTovovyeyski's eyes alone 
 were dry, for tears had already failed him. But when he re- 
 lated how he had gone down as far as Tekich on the Danube 
 and cut the Lipkovs to pieces by the side of the horde and the 
 Sultan, and had captured Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey, the 
 evil enemy, the two old men clattered theii sabres and said: 
 
 "Give him to us! He should die here in Khreptyov." 
 
 ^ot in Khreptyov," Pan Adam replied. "Rashkov is the 
 ,;--Oe where he perished, that is the place where he should die; 
 Sad the sergeant here found for him a torture that was not 
 
 len he described the death by which Azya had died and 
 they listened with terror, but without pity. 
 
 "It is well known that the Lord God pursues crime, at last 
 said Zagloba; "but it is wonderful how poorly the Devil pro- 
 tects his servants." 
 
 Basia sighed piously and raised her eyes and said, after a 
 short meditation: 
 
 "That is because he lacks the power to withstand the might 
 of the Lord." 
 
 "Ah, you have said it," remarked Pan Mushalski, "for if 
 the Devil were more powerful than the Lord, which God for- 
 bid! all justice would disappear and the Commonwealth 
 with it." 
 
 "I do not fear the Turks, in the first place because they 
 are such sons, and in the second because they are children 
 of Belial," Zagloba replied, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 433 
 
 For a time all were silent. Pan Adam sat on the bench 
 with his hands on his knees looking at the floor with glassy 
 c-yes. Then Pan Mushalski turned to him and said: 
 
 "It must have been of some relief," he said, "for it is a 
 groat consolation to wreak a righteous vengeance." 
 
 "Tell us, has it really relieved your mind? Do you feel 
 better now?" asked Basia with a voice full of pity. 
 
 The giant was silent for awhile as though struggling with 
 his own thoughts; at last he said, as though greatly wonder- 
 ing, and in a voice that was almost a whisper: 
 
 "Just imagine! As God is dear to me, I thought I should 
 feel better if I were to kill him. ... I saw him on the 
 stake, I saw him when his eye was bored out, and I told myself 
 that I felt better; but it is not true, not true." . . . 
 
 Here 'Pan Adam put his suffering head in his hands and 
 muttered through his clenched teeth: 
 
 "It was better for him on the stake, better with the auger 
 in his eye, better with the flames on his hands, than it is for 
 me with what abides in me, and thinks, and remembers. 
 Death is my only consolation; death, death." 
 
 Basia's brave and martial spirit rose at his words, and sud- 
 denly laying her hand on the head of the miserable man, she 
 said : 
 
 "God grant it to you at Kamenets; for as you truly say, it is 
 the only consolation." 
 
 Then he shut his eyes and repeated: 
 
 "Oh, that is true! that is true! God repay you!" . . . 
 
 They all set out for Kamenets the same evening. 
 
 After passing through the gate Basia turned and gazed long 
 and lingeringly at the fort gleaming in the evening glow; at 
 last she crossed herself and said: 
 
 "God grant that we may be allowed to return with Michael 
 to thee, dear Khreptyov! . . . God grant that nothing 
 worse be in store for us." 
 
 And two tears rolled down her rosy face. Every heart was 
 oppressed with a strange sense of sorrow, and they moved on 
 silently. 
 
 Meanwhile darkness fell. 
 
 They advanced slowly towards Kamenets on account of the 
 tabor. It included wagons, herds of horses, bullocks, buffa- 
 loes, camels, and camp-followers who attended the herds. 
 Some of the servants and soldiers had married at Khreptyov 
 and so there was no lack of women in the tabor. There were 
 88 
 
434 FAN MICHAEL. 
 
 the troops of Pan Adam's command, besides two hundred 
 Hungarian infantry that the little knight had equipped at his 
 own chajge, and trained. Basia was their patron; and Ka- 
 lushevski, a good officer led them. It included no real Hun- 
 garians,, it received the name only because it had a Magyar 
 uniform. The inferior officers were veterans of the dragoons; 
 but the ranks were composed of murderers and bandits who 
 had been condemned to the rope. They were reprieved on 
 condition of joining the infantry and blotting out their past 
 iniquities with loyalty and valor. Among them also were vol- 
 unteers who had left their ravines, fields, and other robber 
 haunts to take service at Khreptyov under the Little Falcon 
 rather than have his sword hanging over their heads. These 
 men were not very tractable, nor sufficiently trained as yet; 
 but they were brave and inured to hardship, danger, and 
 bloodshed. Basia was very fond of this infantry as of 
 Michael's child; and the wild hearts of the warriors soon con- 
 ceived a devotion for the wonderful and kind lady. They 
 were now marching beside her carriage with muskets on their 
 shoulders and sabres at their side, proud to guard the lady, 
 and ready to defend her to the death should any chambul 
 bar her road. 
 
 But the road was still open, for Pan Michael was more far- 
 sighted than others, and, moreover, he loved his wife too 
 much to expose her to danger by delay. The journey there- 
 for was a quiet one. They left Khreptyov in the afternoon 
 and travelled that evening and all night and the next day they 
 gaw the high cliffs of Kamenets. 
 
 When they saw them and the bastions of the fort crowning 
 the cliffs they at once were greatly comforted; for it looked 
 unlikely to them for any but the hand of God to destroy 
 that eagle's nest on the summit of jutting cliffs, and sur- 
 rounded by the bend of the river. It was a lovely summer 
 day. The towers of the churches, peeping over the cliffs, 
 shone like enormous lights and that spot seemed steeped in 
 peace, serenity, and gladness. 
 
 "Bashka," cried Zagloba, "the Infidels have gnawed at 
 those walls on more than one occasion and have always broken 
 their teeth on them. Ah, how often have I myself seen them 
 flee, holding themselves by the snout in their agony! God 
 grant it may be so this time!" 
 
 "Surely it will," answered the radiant Basia. 
 
 "Osman, one of their Sultans, was here. I remember as if 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 435 
 
 it were to-day; it was in the year 1621. He came himself, the 
 scoundrel, just there from that side of the Smotrych, from 
 Khotsim, stared, and gaped, and stared, and stared, and at 
 last asked, 'Who fortified that place like that?' 'The Lord 
 God/ the vizir replied. 'Then let the Lord God take it, for 
 I am no fool!' And immediately he returned." 
 
 "Bah! they returned in a hurry!" interrupted Pan Mush- 
 alsM. 
 
 "They turned back quickly," cried Zagloha, "because we 
 kicked them in the weak side with our lances, and afterwards 
 the knighthood carried me to Pan Lubomirski." 
 
 "Were you at Khotsim then?" asked the matchless archer. 
 "I can scarcely believe that there is anywhere where you have 
 not been, or anything you have not done." 
 
 Pan Zagloba was rather annoyed, and replied: 
 
 "Not only was I there, but I received a wound that I can 
 show you, if you care to see it; I can do so immediately, but 
 we must retire, as it would not be becoming in me to speak of 
 it in the presence of Pani Volodiyovski." 
 
 The celebrated archer at once saw that Zagloba was making 
 fun of him, and as he did not feel equal to defeating him in a 
 war of wit he made no further inquiries and turned the con- 
 versation. 
 
 "What you say is true," he said, "when a man is far away 
 and hears people say, 'Kamenets is not provisioned, Kamenets 
 will fall/ he is seized with dread; but when he sees Kamenets, 
 by God, he is reassured." 
 
 "Besides, Michael will be in Kamenets," cried Basia. 
 
 "And perhaps Pan Sobieski will send assistance." 
 
 "Praise be to God! we are not so badly off after all. Things 
 have been worse, and we did not yield." 
 
 "Even if it were worse, the point is not to lose courage. 
 They have not devoured us yet, and they won't as long as 
 we keep our spirits up," said Zagloba. 
 
 Cheered by these thoughts they became silent. But sud- 
 denly Pan Adam rode up beside Basia; his face, which was 
 usually dark and terrible was now smiling and tranquil. His 
 eyea were fastened in a rapt gaze on Kamenets which was 
 bathed in sunlight; and he was smiling. 
 
 The two knights and Basia looked at him in astonishment, 
 not being able to comprehend why the sight of that strong- 
 hold should so suddenly have removed all weight from his 
 spirit. 
 
43 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 But he exclaimed: 
 
 "Praised be the name of the Lord! there was a world of 
 suffering, but now happiness is near me." 
 
 Then he turned to Basia. 
 
 "They are both with the bailiff, Tomashevich, and it is 
 well that they have concealed themselves there, for in a fort- 
 ress like that that robber cannot harm them/' 
 
 "Whom are you talking about?" asked Basia in terror. 
 
 "Zosia and Evka." 
 
 "God help you!" cried Zagloba; "do not give way to the 
 Devil." 
 
 But Pan Adam continued: 
 
 "Neither is it true, as they say, that Azya killed my father." 
 
 "His mind is wandering," whispered Pan Mushalski. 
 
 "Allow me," said Novovyeyski again, "I will hasten on in 
 advance. It is so long since I saw them that I am pining 
 for them." 
 
 "Ah! There seems to be the booth of my beloved." 
 
 With that his great head began to sway from side to side 
 and he spurred on. 
 
 Pan Mushalski beckoned to some dragoons and followed, 
 to keep an eye on the madman. Basia hid her rosy face in her 
 hands and scalding tears began to trickle through her fingers. 
 
 "He was such a fine fellow, like gold, but such misfortunes 
 are more that a human heart can bear. . . . Besides mere 
 vengeance will not restore the spirits." . . . 
 
 Kamenets was busy with defensive preparations. On the 
 Avails, in the old castle, and at the gates, especially the Bus- 
 si an gates, the various nationalities in the town worked under 
 their own bailiffs, among whom Tomashevich held the first 
 place on account of his great daring and skill in handling 
 cannon. At the same time Poles, Russians, Armenians, Jews, 
 and Gypsies emulated each other with the spade and wheel- 
 > < arrow. Officers of various regiments supervised the work; 
 sergeants and soldiers assisted the citizens, and even nobles 
 set to work, forgetting for once that God had created their 
 hands for the sabre alone and allotted all other work to men 
 of lowly rank. Voytsiekh Humyetski, the banneret of Podo- 
 lia, himself set an example that brought tears into people's 
 eyes, for with his own hands he brought stones in a barrow. 
 There was great bustle in the town and castle. The Domin- 
 icans, Jesuits, Brothers of St. Francis, and Carmelites went 
 about among the throngs blessing the effort of the people. 
 
PAN MIC HAUL. 437 
 
 Women carried food and drink to the laborers and the sol- 
 diers' eyes were attracted by beautiful Armenian women, the 
 wives and daughters of rich merchants, and yet more lovely 
 Jewesses from Karvasera, Javnets, Zinkoviets and Dunaygrod. 
 
 But Basia's entrance attracted the attention of the crowds 
 more than anything else. There were undoubtedly more dis- 
 tinguished women in Kamenets, but none whose husband had 
 a greater military reputation. In Kamenets they had also 
 heard of Pani Volodiyovski herself as a marshal lady who was 
 not afraid to dwell on a watch-tower in the wilderness among 
 wild people, and who accompanied her husband on expedi- 
 tions, and, when abducted by a Tartar, had managed to over- 
 come him and make her escape in safety from the hands of 
 the ravisher. So she was extremely famous. But those who 
 did not know her and had not seen her yet supposed her 
 to be some giantess who could break horse-shoes and crush 
 armor. Therefore what was their surprise to see a little, rosy, 
 childish face! "Is that Pani Volodiyovski herself, or her 
 little daughter?" people in the throng asked. "Herself/' an- 
 swered those who knew her. And citizens, women, priests, 
 and soldiers were all overcome with admiration. They gazed 
 no less wonderingly at the invincible garrison of Khreptyov 
 and at the dragoons, among whom Pan Adam was riding 
 calmly with wandering glances, and at the terrible faces of 
 the marauders who were transformed into Hungarian in- 
 fantry. But at Basia's side marched a few hundred men who 
 were worthy of all praise, being soldiers by profession, and so 
 the townspeople gained fresh courage. "That is no ordinary 
 force; they will look the Turks boldly in the face/' cried the 
 people in the throng. Some of the citizens, and even of the 
 soldiers, particularly those of the regiment of Bishop Tjebit- 
 ski, that had recently arrived at Kamenets, thought that Pan 
 Michael himself was with the party and cried: 
 
 "Long live Pan Volodiyovski!" 
 
 "Long live our defender! The most famous cavalier!" 
 
 "Vivat Volodiyovski! vivat!" 
 
 Basia's heart swelled as she listened, for nothing is dearer 
 to a woman than her husband's fame, especially when it 
 sounds on the lips of people in a great city. "There are so 
 many knights here," Basia thought, "and my dear Michael is 
 the only one they acclaim." And she wanted to join in the 
 chorus "Vivat Volodiyovski!" herself, but Zagloba told her 
 that she must comfort herself as a person of distinction and 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 bow from side to side as queens do when entering a capital. 
 He also saluted, sometimes with his cap and sometimes with 
 liis hand, and when acquaintances began to honor him with 
 vivats he addressed the crowd: 
 
 "Gracious gentlemen, he who endured Zbaraj will hold out 
 in Kamenets." 
 
 In accordance with Volodiyovski's instructions the party 
 went to the newly-built cloister of the Dominican nuns. The 
 little knight had his own house in Kamenets; but, as the 
 cloister was in a remote spot, out of the reach of cannon-balls, 
 he preferred to settle his beloved Basia there, more especially 
 as he anticipated a hearty welcome on account of his benefac- 
 tions to the cloister. Indeed the abyge, Mother Victoria, the 
 daughter of Stephen Pototski, Voyevoda of Bratslav, received 
 Basia with .open arms. The embraces of the abbess were fol- 
 lowed by other greatly-loved ones; those of her aunt, Pani 
 Makovyetska, whom she had not seen, for some years. They 
 both shed tears and so did her uncle, the Stolnik of Latychov, 
 with whom Basia had always been a favorite. They had 
 scarcely dried their joyful tears when Krysia Ketling rushed 
 in and fresh greetings commenced; then Basia was surrounded 
 by the nuns and noble strangers and acquaintances; Pani 
 Martsinova Bogush, Pani Stanislavska, Pani Kalinovska, Pani 
 Khotsimirski, Pani Voytsyekhova Humyetska, the wife of the 
 banneret of Podolia, a great cavalier. Some, like Pani Bogush, 
 asked after their husbands, while others asked what Basia 
 thought about the Turkish invasion and whether, in her opin- 
 ion, Kamenets would hold out. Basia was delighted to see 
 that they regarded her as an authority on military matters, 
 and looked for comfort from her lips. So she did not stint 
 her gifts. "Nobody says," she said, "that we cannot hold 
 out against the Turks. Michael will be here to-day, or to- 
 morrow, or in a couple of days at the furthest; and when he 
 takes the defence in hand, you, ladies, may sleep in peace. 
 Besides the fortress is exceedingly strong; thank God, I have 
 some little knowledge in such affairs." 
 
 Basia 7 s confidence comforted the hearts of the women; in 
 particular they were reassured by the promise of Pan Michael's 
 arrival. Indeed, his name was held in such honor that, al- 
 though it was evening, the officers of the place immediately 
 began to come and pay their respects to Basia* After the first 
 greetings, everyone asked when the little knight would re- 
 turn, and whether he really meant to shut himself up ii* 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 439 
 
 Kamenets. Basia only received Major Kvasibrotski, who 
 commanded the infantry of the Bishop of Cracow; the secre- 
 tary, Jevuski, who had succeeded Pan Lanchyski, or rather 
 was acting as locum tenens in command of the regiment; and 
 Ketling. No others were admitted that day, as Basia was 
 tired after the journey, and moreover she had to see after 
 Pan Novovyeyski. That unfortunate man had fallen from 
 his horse at the very gate of the convent and had been carried 
 unconscious to a cell. They immediately sent for the same 
 doctor who had cured Basia at Khreptyov. The doctor said 
 that Pan Adam had a serious brain disease and gave little 
 jiope of his recovery. Basia, Pan Mushalski, and Zagloba sat 
 up late, talking about the affair and dwelling on the knight's 
 unhappy lot. 
 
 "The doctor told me," said Zagloba, "that if he recovers 
 consciousness, and is bled freely, his mind will not be de- 
 ranged and he will bear his misfortune with a lighter heart." 
 
 "There is no consolation for him now," said Basia. 
 
 "It would often be better for a man to have no memory," 
 said Pan Mushalski; "but even alimals are not without it." 
 
 The little, old man demurred to this remark of the famous 
 archer's. 
 
 "If you had no memory you couldn't go to confession," 
 said the latter; "and you would deserve hell-fire like a Lu- 
 theran. Father Kaminski has already cautioned you against 
 blasphemy; but repeat the Paternoster to a wolf and he would 
 rather be devouring a goat." 
 
 "What kind of a wolf am I?" asked the famous archer. 
 "There was Azya; he was a wolf." 
 
 "Didn't I say so?" asked Zagloba. "Who was the first to 
 say, 'there's a wolf ?" J 
 
 "Pan Adam told me," said Basia, "that day and night he 
 hears Evka and Zosia calling to him 'rescue,' and how can 
 he rescue? It had to end in an illness, for nobody could endure 
 such suffering. He could survive their death; but not their 
 shame." 
 
 "Now he is lying like a log of wood; he knows nothing of 
 God's world," said Pan Mushalski; "and it's a great pity, for 
 he was unsurpassed as a fighter." 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by a ser- 
 vant who announced there was a great noise in the town, 
 where, people were gathering to see the General of Podolia, 
 who was just entering with a large escort and several tens of 
 infantry. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "The command belongs to him/ 7 said Zagloba, "It is brave 
 of Pan Nikolai Pototski to prefer this to any other place, but, 
 as of old, J would rather he were not here. He is opposed to 
 the Hetman; he did not believe the war was coming; and now 
 who knows whether he will not want to surrender." 
 
 "Perhaps other Pototskis will come in after him/' said Pan 
 Mushalski. 
 
 "It is evident that the Turks are not far away," answered 
 Zagloba. "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 God grant that the General of Podolia may prove a second 
 Yeremy; and Kamenets a second Zbaraj!" 
 
 "It must be; or we shall first die/' cried a voice on the 
 threshold. 
 
 At the sound of that voice Basia sprang up and, crying 
 "Michael," cast herself into the little knight's arms. 
 
 Pan Michael brought much important news from the field 
 and told it to his wife in the quiet cell before communicating 
 it to the military council. He had utterly destroyed a number 
 of small chambuls and had dashed around the camps of the 
 Crimea and Doroshenko with great glory to himself. He had 
 also brought a few dozen prisoners, from whom they might 
 gain intelligence as to the force of the Khan and Doroshenko. 
 
 But other raiders had not been so successful. The Chief 
 of Podlasia, commanding considerable forces, had been 
 crushed in a sanguinary battle; Motovidlo had been defeated 
 by Krychinski, who had pursued him to the Wallachian trail 
 with the assistance of the Byalogrod horde and the Lipkovs 
 who had survived Pan Adam's victory at Tekich. Before 
 coming to Kamenets, Pan Michael had turned aside to 
 Khreptyov, as he said he had wanted to gaze again on the 
 scene of his happiness. 
 
 "I arrived there immediately after your departure," he 
 said, "the place had not yet grown cold and I might easily 
 have overtaken you, but I crossed over to the Moldavian bank 
 to listen in the direction of the steppes. Some chambuls have 
 already crossed, but they fear that if they come out at Pokuts 
 they may unexpectedly come across people. There are others 
 in advance of the Turkish army and they will soon be here. 
 There will be a siege, my most beloved dove, there is no help 
 for it; but we will not surrender, for everyone here is not only 
 defending the country, 'but his private property as well." 
 
 Then he twirled his moustache and put his arms round his 
 wife and kissed her cheeks and they conversed no more that 
 day. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 441 
 
 The next morning Pan Michael repeated his tidings at 
 Bishop Lantskoronski's, before the council of war, which in 
 addition to the Bishop, included Pan Nikolai Pototski, Gen- 
 eral of Podolia; Pan Lantskoronski, Chamberlain of Podolia; 
 Pan Jevuski, Secretary of Podolia; Pan Humyetski, the Stand- 
 ard Bearer; Ketling, Makovyetska, Major Kvasibrotski, and 
 several other officers. In the first place Volodiyovski was not 
 pleased with the General of Podolia's declaration that he 
 would not assume the command himself, but depute it to a 
 council. "In sudden emergencies there ought to be one head 
 and one will," said the little knight. "At Zbaraj there were 
 three men who were entitled to the command, but they re- 
 signed it to Prince Yeremy Vishnyovyetski, properly con- 
 sidering that it is better to obey one in times of peril." 
 
 These words had no effect. The learned Ketling vainly 
 quoted the example of the Romans, who, being the greatest 
 warriors in the world, instituted the dictatorship. Bishop 
 Lantskoronski, who did not like Ketling, for he had taken 
 it into his head for some reason or other that, as Ketling 
 was of Scottish birth, he must be a heretic in his secret heart, 
 retorted that the Poles did not need to learn history from 
 new arrivals; moreover, they had minds of their own and had 
 no need to follow the example of Romans, who were not 
 their superiors in bravery and eloquence, or very little, even 
 if at all. The bishop added, "As there is more blaze from 
 an armful of wood than from one stick, so there is more vigi- 
 lance in many heads than in one." Thereupon he extolled the 
 General of Podolia's modesty, though the others knew it was 
 rather dread of responsibility, and for his own part he coun- 
 selled negotiations. As he uttered this word the soldiers 
 sprang from their seats as if scorched. Pan Michael, Ketling, 
 Makovyetska, Humyetski, Jevuski and Kvasibrotski began to 
 grind their teeth and clatter their sabres. Voices exclaimed, 
 "I believe that we did not come here to negotiate!" "The 
 negotiator is protected by his frock!" and Kvasibrotski even 
 cried: "the church porch, not this council, is your place!" 
 and there was a tumult. 
 
 At that the bishop arose and said in a loud voice: "I should 
 be the first to give my life for the church and my little lambs; 
 but if I have spoken of negotiations and the desire to tem- 
 porize, God is my judge that it is not because I want to give 
 up the fortress, but to gain time for the Hetman to gather 
 veinforcements. The name of Pan Sobieski is dreaded by 
 
442 MICHAEL. 
 
 the Infidels, and even though he has not enough forces yet, 
 if the rumor spreads that he is advancing, the Mussulmans 
 will leave Kamenets quickly enough." And as he spoke so 
 forcibly all were silent and some were glad to see that the 
 bishop really had no thought of surrender. 
 
 On this, Volodiyovski said: 
 
 "Before the enemy can besiege Kamenets he must destroy 
 Jvanets, because he cannot leave a strong place of defence in 
 his rear. Therefore with the General's permission I will un- 
 dertake to shut myself up in Jvanets and hold it while the 
 bishop tries to gain time with negotiations. I will take trusty 
 men with me; and Jvanets will stand as lor g as my life lasts." 
 
 At that they all cried : 
 
 "By no means can that be, you are wanted here! The citi- 
 zens will lose heart without you, and the soldiers will not be 
 so willing to fight. By no means! by no manner of means! 
 Who has had more experience? Who went through Zbaraj? 
 And when it comes to a sortie who will lead the men? You 
 would be consumed in Jvanets, and without you here, we 
 should be consumed." 
 
 "I am at the disposal of the command," answered Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 "Send some young man to be my assistant at Jvanets," said 
 the under-Chamberlain of Podolia. 
 
 "Let Novovyeyski go," cried several voices. 
 
 "Novovyeyski cannot go, for his head is burning," answered 
 Pan Michael; "he is lying on his bed, and knows nothing of 
 God's world/' 
 
 "Meanwhile let us decide where each man's place is to be 
 and what gate he is to defend," said the bishop. 
 
 All eyes were turned on the General of Podolia, who said: 
 
 "Before I give orders I should be glad to have the opinions 
 of experienced soldiers; since Pan Volodiyovski here has the 
 greatest military experience, I call on him first for his 
 opinion." 
 
 In the first place Volodiyovski advised that the castles in 
 front of the town should be well garrisoned, for he thought 
 that the main force of the enemy would be directed to them 
 especially. Others were of the same opinion. There were 
 sixteen hundred infantry, so disposed that Pan Myslishevski 
 occupied the right side of the castle and the left was held by 
 Pan Humyetski, celebrated for his exploits at Khotsim. Pan 
 Michael took the mast perilous post on the side towards Khot- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 443 
 
 sim, and Serdyuk's division was posted lower down. Major 
 Kvasibrotski covered the side towards Zinkoviets; the south 
 was occupied by Pan Vansovich, and the side next the court 
 by Captain Bukar with Pan Krasinski's men. The latter were 
 not volunteers of indifferent quality, but soldiers by profes- 
 sion, so excellent and steady in battle, that to them artillery 
 fire was no more than the heat of the sun to other men. 
 Moreover, serving in the armies of the Commonwealth, which 
 were always small in numbers, from their earliest year they 
 had been accustomed to oppose a foe of ten times their 
 strength and looked upon it as quite a natural thing. Ket- 
 ling, who was most expert in the art of aiming cannon, was 
 given the general management of the castle artillery. The 
 little knight was to have chief command in the castle, and the 
 General left him at liberty to make a sortie as often as it was 
 necessary and possible. 
 
 Knowing now the position of each man, they heartily re- 
 joiced and raised a great shout, at the same time clattering 
 their swords, which was their way of showing their willing- 
 ness. When he heard this the General said to himself: 
 
 "I had no belief that we could defend ourselves and I came 
 here without any faith, only listening to the voice of my own 
 conscience; but who knows? we may repulse the foe with such 
 soldiers! In that case the glory will be mine and they will 
 hail me as a second Yeremy; and in that event it may be 
 that a fortunate star has brought me here." 
 
 And as he had before been doubtful of the defence of 
 Kamenets, so now he doubted its capture; so his courage grew 
 and he more actively began to take measures for the strength- 
 ening of the city. 
 
 It was decided to post Pan Makovyetska at the Russian 
 gate in the city, itself with a handful of nobles and Polish 
 citizens who were more than usually martial, and a few dozen 
 Armenians and Jews with them. The Lutsk gate was con- 
 fided to Pan Grodetski, who was joined by Pan Juk and Pan 
 Matchynski in command of the artillery. The guard of the 
 square in front of the town-hall was commanded by Lukash 
 Dzevanovski, and the noisy Gypsies at the Russian gate were 
 commanded by Khotsimirski. From the bridge to Pan Sinit- 
 ski's house the guards were commanded by Pan Casimir 
 Humyetski, the manly brother of Voytsyekh. Further on 
 were to be quartered Pan Stanishevski; and Pan Martsin 
 Bogush at the Polish gate; and Pan Yerzy Skarjinski at tha 
 
444 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Spij Bastion, and Pan Yatskovski beside the Byaloblotski em- 
 brasures; and the Butcher Bastion was held by Pan Dubravski 
 and Pan Pyetrashevski. The great intrenchment of the town 
 was entrusted to Tomashevich, the Polish bailiff, and the 
 smaller one to Pan Yatskovski; orders were given to con- 
 struct a third one, from which, later, a certain Jew, a skilful 
 gunner, greatly annoyed the Turks. 
 
 When these arrangements were completed the whole council 
 went to sup with the General, who, at that entertainment, 
 particularly honored Pan Michael with place, food, wine, and 
 conversation, foreseeing that for his deeds during the siege 
 posterity would add the title of the "Hector of Kamenets" to 
 that of the "Little Knight." The latter declared that he 
 meant to serve with the utmost earnestness, and to that end 
 he intended to take a certain vow in the cathedral, and prayed 
 the bishop therefore to allow him to do so on the morrow. 
 The bishop readily acquiesced as he saw that this vow might 
 be to the popular advantage. The next morning there was a 
 solemn service in the cathedral. It was heard with devotion 
 and elevation of heart by knights, nobles, soldiers, and the 
 populace. Pan Michael and Ketling both lay prostrate in the 
 form of a cross before the altar; Krysia and Basia were both 
 kneeling close by, outside the railing, weeping, for they knew 
 that that vow might imperil the lives of their husbands. At 
 the end of the Mass the bishop turned to the people with the 
 monstrance; then the little knight rose and, kneeling on the 
 steps of the altar, in calm tones, though with emotion, said: 
 
 "Being deeply grateful for the special benefactions and 
 particular protection that I have received from the Most High 
 God and from His Only Son, I vow and make oath that, as 
 He and His Son have aided me, so to my last breath I will 
 defend the Holy Cross, and since I am entrusted with the 
 command of the old castle, while I have life and can move 
 I hand and foot, I will not admit to the castle the Infidel foe, 
 who live in vileness; nor will I leave the wall, nor raise the 
 white flag, even if I have to be buried there under the 
 ruins. ... So help me God and the Holy Cross! Amen!" 
 
 A solemn silence prevailed in the church and then Ket- 
 ling's voice was heard. 
 
 "I vow," he said, "for the special benefactions that I have 
 received in the fatherland, to defend the castle to the last 
 drop of my blood and to bury myself under its ruins rather 
 than allow the foot of an enemy to enter its walls. And, as 
 
FAN MICHAEL. 445 
 
 I take this oath with a clean heart and out of pure gratitude, 
 so help me God and the Holy Cross! Amen!" 
 
 Here the bishop lowered the monstrance and gave it first 
 to Volodiyovski and then to Ketling to kiss. At this sight 
 a loud murmur arose from the numerous knights in the 
 church. Voices were heard: "We will all swear! We will lie 
 upon one another! The fortress shall not fall! We will swear! 
 we will swear! Amen, amen, amen!" The rasping of the 
 sabres and rapiers was heard as thsy left the scabbards and 
 the church became bright with the steel. The gleam shone on 
 threatening faces and glittering eyes and the nobles, soldiers, 
 and populace were seized with intense and indescribable en- 
 thusiasm. Then all the bells rang, the organ rumbled, the 
 bishop intoned the 'Sub Tuum praesidium/ and a hundred 
 voices sounded in answer; and thus they prayed for that for- 
 tress that was the watch-tower of Christendom and the key 
 of the Commonwealth. 
 
 At the end of the service Ketling and Pan Michael left the 
 church hand in hand. Blessings and praise accompanied 
 their steps, for nobody doubted that they would die sooner 
 than surrender the castle. However, not death, but victory 
 and glory seemed to be hovering over them, and probably 
 among all those people they alone knew how terrible was the 
 oath by which they had bound themselves. Perhaps also, two 
 loving hearts had a presentiment of the destruction that was 
 hanging over their heads, for neither Basia nor Krysia could 
 recover their composure; and when Pan Michael found him- 
 self at last in the convent with his wife, choked with tears and 
 sobbing like a little child she nestled up to his breast and 
 cried in broken accents: 
 
 "Remember . . . Michael, that . . . God ward off mis- 
 fortune from you. ... I ... I ... know not . . , what 
 . . . will . . . become of me!" 
 
 And she quivered with emotion; the little knight was also 
 greatly moved. His little yellow moustache quivered. Pres- 
 ently he said: 
 
 "But Bashka ... it was necessary, well! well!" . . . 
 
 "I would rather die!" cried Basia. 
 
 At her words the little knight's lips quivered more violently 
 and he said again and again: 
 
 "Quiet, Bashka, quiet!" At length, to calm the woman he 
 loved more than all women on earth, he said: 
 
 "Do you remember that when the Lord God restored you to 
 
446 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 me I said, 'Whatever return, Lord God, is right, I promise 
 Thee. . After the war if I am alive, I will build a chapel, but 
 during the war I must do something remarkable so as not feed 
 Thee with ingratitude?' What is a castle? It is little for 
 such benefits. The time has come. Is it right that the 
 Saviour should say to Himself, 'His promise is a plaything?' 
 May the stones of the castle overwhelm me before I break the 
 knightly word that I gave to God. It is necessary, Bashka, 
 and that's the whole thing! . . . Let us trust in the Lord, 
 Bashka!" . 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The same day Pan Michael took some squadrons to tho 
 assistance of Pan Vasilkovski who had gone in haste to Hryn- 
 chuk, for news arrived that the Tartars had made an attack 
 there, taking captives and cattle, but not burning villages, 
 so as not to attract notice. Pan Vasilkovski soon dispersed 
 them, rescuing the captives and" taking prisoners. Volodiy- 
 ovski took these prisoners to Jvanets and instructed Pan 
 Makovyetska to torture them and take down their confessions 
 in writing, to be forwarded to the Hetman and the King. 
 The Tartars confessed that at the order of the perkulab they 
 had crossed the border with Captain Styngan and with Wal- 
 lachians; but even under the^ flames they could not tell how 
 far away at that time the Sultan was with his whole force, 
 for, as they moved forward in irregular bodies, they did not 
 keep in touch with the main army. 
 
 However, they all agreed that the Sultan was advancing 
 in force to the Commonwealth and would soon be at Khot- 
 sim. These confessions contained nothing new for the fu- 
 ture defenders of Kamenets; but since in the king's palace 
 it was not believed that war was coming, the Under-Cham- 
 berlain determined to send these prisoners, together with 
 their statements, to Warsaw. 
 
 Meanwhile the scouting parties had returned from their 
 first expedition in good spirits. In the evening the secretary 
 of Habareskul, Pan Michael's relative, the senior perkulab 
 of Khotsim, arrived. He brought no letters, as the perkulab 
 was afraid to write; but his orders were to tell his relative 
 Volodiyovski, 'the pupil of his eye and the love of his heart/ 
 to be on his guard, and if there were not sufficient troops 
 to defend Kamenets, to find some excuse for leaving the 
 town, for the Sultan with his whole force had been expected 
 for two days at Khotsim. 
 
 Pan Michael sent his thanks to the perkulab and rewarded 
 the secretary and sent him back; he then informed the com- 
 mandants of the approaching danger. Work on the forti- 
 
 (447) 
 
44 8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 fications was pushed hourly with increased energy; Tan 
 Hieronim Lantskoronski, without a moment's delay, went 
 to his Jvanets to keep an eye on Khotsim. 
 
 Some time passed in waiting; at length, on the second 
 day of August, the Sultan halted at Khotsim. His regiments 
 extended like a shoreless sea; aaid at the sight of the last 
 town in the Sultan's dominions, the cry "Allah! Allah!" rose 
 from hundreds of thousands of throats. On the other side 
 of the Dniester lay the defenceless Commonwealth which 
 those innumerable hosts were to overspread like a deluge, 
 or devour like a flame. Crowds of warriors, unable to find 
 room in the town, spread over the fields; the same fields 
 where some decades earlier Polish sabres had dispersed an 
 equally numerous army of the Prophet. It now seemed that 
 the hour of vengeance had arrived and not one in all those 
 wild legions, from the Sultan down to the camp-follower 
 had any presentiment that those fields would a second time 
 be ill-omened for the Crescent. Hope and even the assurance 
 of victory reigned in all hearts. Janissaries and pnpliis, 
 crowds of levies from the Balkans and the mountains of 
 Rhodope, from Rumelia, from Pelion and Osa, from Car- 
 mel and Lebanon, from the deserts of Arabia, from the 
 farther banks of the Tigris, from the lowlands of the Nile 
 and the burning sands of Africa, uttering wild shouts de- 
 manded to be led at once to the "shore of the unbelievers." 
 But the muezzins began to call to prayer from the minarets 
 of Khotsim and therefore all became silent. A sea of heads 
 in turbans, caps, fezes, burnooses, kef is, and steel helmets 
 bowed to the earth, and the deep murmur of prayer passed 
 over the fields like the hum of an innumerable swarm of 
 bees, and was carried by the breeze across the Dniester to- 
 wards the Commonwealth. 
 
 Then were heard drums, trumpets and pipes, calling to 
 rest. Though the hosts had marched leisurely and comfort- 
 ably the Padishah wanted to give them a rest at the river 
 after the long journey from Adrianople. He performed his 
 own ablutions in a clear spring near the town and rode 
 thence to the konak of Khotsim; and they began to pitch 
 tents in the fields that soon made the whole surrounding 
 country look as if covered with snow. 
 
 It was a lovely day with a beautiful close. After the last, 
 evening prayers the camp went to rest. Thousands and hun- 
 dreds of thousands of fires were blazing. From the little castle 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 in Jvanets opposite, the light of those fires filled them with 
 dread, for they extended to such a distance that the sol- 
 diers who went out to reconnoitre brought in the account, 
 "It" looked as if the whole of Moldavia were in flames." 
 But as the bright moon mounted higher in the starry skies 
 they -all died down except the watch-fires; the camp grew 
 silent and the quiet of the night was only disturbed by the 
 neighing of horses and the bellowing of the buffaloes feed- 
 ing on the meadows of Taraiban. 
 
 But the next day at dawn the Sultan ordered the janis- 
 saries and Tartars and Lipkovs to cross the Dniester and 
 occupy Jvanets, the town as well as the castle. The valiant 
 Pan Hieronim I^antskoronski did not await them behind 
 the walls, but, having with him forty Tartars, eighty men 
 of Kiev, and one squadron of his own, he charged the janis- 
 saries at the ferry; and notwithstanding a rattling volley 
 from their muskets, he broke that splendid infantry so that 
 they began .to retreat to the river in disorder. But in the 
 meantime the chambul, reinforced by the Lipkovs, who had 
 crossed higher up, broke into the town. Smoke and crie* 
 warned the brave Under-Chamberlain that the place was 
 in the possession of the enemy. He therefore gave orders 
 for the ferry to be abandoned for the purpose of aiding the 
 unfortunate inhabitants. The janissaries could not pursue, 
 as they were infantry, and he dashed to the rescue at full 
 speed. 
 
 Just as he was coming up, his own Tartars suddenly 
 threw down their flag and went over to the enemy. Then 
 followed a moment of great danger. The chambul,, aided by 
 the treacherous Lipkovs, thinking the treason would throw 
 them into confusion, fiercely engaged the Under-Chamber- 
 Iain hand to hand. Luckily the men of Kiev, inspired by 
 their leader's example, offered stout resistance. The squad- 
 ron broke the enemy, who were not capable of withstanding 
 regular Polish cavalry. The ground before the bridge v/;;< 
 soon covered with corpses, especially of the Lipkovs, who kept 
 the field as they were hardier than the average men of the 
 horde. Many of them were 'afterwards cut down in the 
 streets. Lantskoronski, seeing the janissaries approaching 
 from the river, withdrew behind the walls and sent to Kam- 
 enets for aid. 
 
 The Padishah had not intended to take the castle of 
 Jvanets that day, rightly thinking that he could crush it 
 29 
 
4.50 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 in an instant at the general passage of the hosts. He merely 
 wanted to occupy that point, and thinking the force he sent 
 to be quite sufficient, he sent no more either of the janis- 
 saries or the horde. Those who had crossed the river again 
 occupied the place when the squadron had retired within 
 the walls. They did not burn the town, for they wanted 
 it as a future shelter for their own and other detachments, 
 but went to work in it with sabres and daggers. The janis- 
 saries seized the young women in the manner of soldiers and 
 cut down the husbands and children with axes; the Tartars 
 were plundering. 
 
 Then from the castle-bastion the Poles saw cavalry ap- 
 proaching from the direction of Kamenets. . When he heard 
 that, Lantkoronski went out to the bastion with some com- 
 panions and a field-glass and gazed long and carefully At 
 last he said: 
 
 "That is light cavalry from the Khreptyov garrison, the 
 same that accompanied Vasilkovski to Hrynchuk. It is evi- 
 dent that they have been sent out this time." 
 
 Then he began to scrutinize them again. 
 
 "I see volunteers. It must be Humyetski." 
 
 And in a moment: 
 
 "God be praised! Volodiyovski himself is there, for I 
 see dragoons. Worthy gentlemen, let us again dash out from 
 behind the walls and with God's aid we will drive the enemy 
 not only out of the town but across the river." 
 
 Then he ran down breathlessly to draw up below, his 
 men of Kiev, and the squadron. Meanwhile the Tartars in 
 the town first saw the approaching troops and raising shrill 
 shouts of "Allah!" began to form in a shambul. Drums and 
 whistles were heard in every street. The janissaries formed 
 with that rapidity in which they were equalled by few 
 troops in the world. The chambul dashed out of the place 
 like a whirlwind and fell upon the light cavalry. The cham- 
 bul itself, without counting the Lipkovs who had been badly 
 mauled by Lantskoronski, were three times as numerous as 
 the garrison of Jvanets and the approaching reinforcements 
 combined, so it did not hesitate to attack Pan Vasilkovski; 
 but the latter, who was young and impetuous and dashed 
 against every danger ardently and blindly, ordered his sol- 
 diers to go at full gallop and flew along like a tornado, pay- 
 ing not the slightest heed to the number of the enemy. The 
 Tartars, who had no taste for close fighting, were dismayed 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 45I 
 
 at such daring. Notwithstanding the shouts of the murzas 
 in the rear, the shrill tones of the pipes, and the rolling of 
 the drums calling to "kensim" that is, to cut off the heads 
 of unbelievers, they began to check and rein in their horses. 
 Their heart and martial spirit was evidently growing momen- 
 tarily fainter. At last at about a bow-shot's distance from 
 the squadron they parted to either side and discharged a 
 shower of arrows at the charging cavalry. 
 
 Pan Vasilkovski, entirely ignorant of the presence of the 
 janissaries who had formed beyond the houses near the river, 
 came up at undiminished speed behind the Tartars, or rather 
 one-half of the cliambul. IJe arrived at close quarters and 
 began to cut down those whose poor mounts did not enable 
 them to flee quickly enough. The second half of the cham- 
 bul turned in the attempt to surround him; but at that 
 moment the volunteers came up, and the Under-Chamberlain 
 with his men of Kiev. The Tartars, pressed on so many sides, 
 scattered in the twinkling of an eye like sand, and a con- 
 fused chase began, of a group by a group and a man by a 
 man, in which many of the horde were killed, especially by 
 the hand of Pan Vasilkovski, who, single-handed, struck 
 blindly at whole crowds as a hawk swoops on sparrows or 
 bunting. 
 
 P>ut Pan Volodiyovski, a cool and keen warrior, kept his 
 dragoons well in hand. Like one who holds trained, eager 
 hounds in strong leashes, not letting them fly at a coming 
 beast, but only when he sees the glowing eyes and gleaming 
 teeth of a savage old boar, so did the little knight despise 
 the mean horde and watch to see whether spahis, janissaries, 
 or other regular soldiery was not behind them. 
 
 Pan Lantskoronski rushed up to him with his men of 
 Kiev and cried: 
 
 "My benefactor, the janissaries are moving towards the 
 river; let us attack them!" 
 
 Volodiyovski drew his sword, and commanded: 
 
 "Forward!" 
 
 Each dragoon tightened his rein so as to have his horse 
 well in hand, and then the ranks dressed up and advanced 
 as regularly as when on parade. They first went at a trot and 
 then at a gallop, but did not yet let their horses go at full 
 speed. Only after passing the houses near the river to the 
 oa?t. of the castle did they see the white felt caps of the jan- 
 izaries, and knew that they had to deal not with volunteers, 
 but with regulars. 
 
452 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Charge!" cried Volodiyovski. 
 
 The horses extended themselves till their bellies almost 
 touched the ground, as their hoofs scattered lumps of hard 
 earth behind them. 
 
 The janissaries, not knowing what force was coming to 
 the aid of Jvanets, were in fact retreating to the river. One 
 body of between two and three hundred men was already 
 at the bank, and its first ranks were stepping into scows, 
 another body of similar size was moving rapidly though in 
 perfect order. When they caught sight of the approaching 
 cavalry they halted and faced the enemy in an instant. Their 
 muskets were lowered in a line and thundred a salvo as if 
 at a review. Moreover these seasoned warriors, counting 
 on their comrades on the bank supporting them with their 
 fire, not only did not retreat after the volley, but followed 
 up their own smoke and dashed savagely at the cavalry with 
 their sabres. Only the janissaries would have been capable 
 of such daring, but they paid dearly for it, because the 
 troopers who could not have restrained their horses even if 
 they had wanted to, struck them like a hammer, and, break- 
 ing them in an instant, spread destruction and terror in 
 their ranks. The first rank fell beneath the force of the 
 blow like grain before a whirlwind. - It is true that many 
 of them fell only from the impact, and these regained their 
 feet and ran in disorder to the river, from where the second 
 body kept on firing, aiming high, so as to hit the dragoons 
 over the heads of their comrades. 
 
 For a moment the janissaries at the ferry evidently hesi- 
 tated whether to embark or follow the example of the other 
 detachment and come to close quarters with the cavalry. But 
 they were restrained from the latter course by the sight of 
 groups of fugitives were pressed upon by the chests of the 
 horses and hacked so terribly by the troopers that their fury 
 was only equalled by their skill. Now and then a group too 
 hotly pressed turned in desperation and began to bite like an 
 animal at bay when it sees that it cannot escape. And then 
 those on the bank could see as plainly as in their palms that 
 it was not possible to meet that cavalry with cold steel, so 
 far superior were they in its use. The defenders were slashed 
 with such regularity and rapidity that it was impossible for 
 the eye to follow the movements of the sabres. As when 
 skillfull laborers shelling well-dried peas strike quickly and 
 continuously on the threshing floor till the whole place re- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 sounds with their blows and the peas are jumping in all di- 
 rections, so did the whole river-bank resound with the blows 
 of the sabres and the groups of janissaries, mercilessly slashed, 
 sprang hither and thither like peas out of a pod. 
 
 Pan Vasilkovski charged at the head of the cavalry,, reck- 
 less of his own life. But as a trained reaper surpasses a youth 
 much stronger but less skillful at the sickle than himself, 
 for while the youth is toiling covered with streams of pers- 
 piration, the other goes steadily on and cuts down the hay 
 before him evenly, so did Pan Volodiycvski surpass the 
 impetuous youth Vasilkovski. Before attacking the janis- 
 saries he let the dragoons go forward, while he himself re- 
 mained somewhat in the rear to watch the whole battle. 
 Standing thus at a distance, he kept careful watch, but 
 every now and then he would spring into the melee and 
 strike and give directions, and then again would allow the 
 battle to recede and then again he would watch and strike. 
 As always happens in a light with infantry, so then also 
 seme of the fugitives were left in the rear of the cavalry. 
 These, having their retreat to the river cut off, fled back to- 
 wards the town to hide among the sunflowers that were grow- 
 ing in front of the houses; but Volodiyovski saw them. He 
 came up with the first two and gave each a light blow; they 
 immediately fell and, digging their heels into the earth, their 
 souls escaped with their blood through the gaping wounds. 
 When he saw this a third janissary fired at the little knight 
 with his musket but missed; and the little knight struck him 
 with the edge of his sword between the nose and mouth and 
 slew him. Without any delay Pan Michael then sprang after 
 the others, and no village boy gathers a clump of mushrooms 
 so quickly as he gathered those men before they reached the 
 sun-flowers. Only the last two were seized by soldiers of 
 Jvanets and these the little knight ordered to be kept alive. 
 
 IVing now warmed up and seeing that the janissaries were 
 being hotly pressed at the river, he sprang into the thick of 
 the fight and joining the dragoons began to work in earnest. 
 First he struck in front and then turned to right or left, 
 thrusting once with his sword, and paying no further atten- 
 tion; a white cap.fell to the earth with each thrust. The jan- 
 issaries began to crowd away from him with loud cries; he 
 redoubled the rapidity of his blows and though he remained 
 calm himself no eye could follow the play of his sword and 
 know when he would strike and when he would thrust, for 
 his blade described a gleaming circle around him. 
 
454 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Pan Lantskoronski, who had long heard him quoted as a 
 master of masters, but had not hitherto seen him in action, 
 ceased fighting and looked on astonished, unable to believe 
 his own eyes that one man, though a master, and celebrated 
 as the best cavalier, could accomplish so much. Consequently 
 he raised his 'hand to his head and his companinos heard 
 . him keep repeating: "As God lives, they have told me very 
 little about him as yet!" And others cried, "Look at him, 
 for you won't see that again in this world!" But Volodiy- 
 ovski labored on. 
 
 The janissaries driven down to the river now began to 
 throng into the scows in disorder. As the scows were suffi- 
 cient in number and there were fewer to return than had 
 come, they quickly and easily took their places. Then the 
 heavy oars moved and a space of water momentarily widened 
 between the janissaries and the bank. 
 
 But the rattle of musketry began to rise from the scows, 
 to which the dragoons replied; litlle clouds of smoke rose 
 over the water and trailed in bands. The scows with the 
 janissaries were receding every moment. The dragoons who 
 were left in possession of the field uttered a fierce shout and 
 shaking their fists, cried: 
 
 "Ah, off with thee, thou dog, off with thee!" 
 
 Though the balls were still plashing Pan Lantskoronski 
 threw his arms around Volodiyovski right on the bank and 
 said: 
 
 "I did not believe my own eyes; my benefactor, those are 
 marvels that deserve a golden pen!" 
 
 "Natural aptitude and training, that's all. How many 
 wars have I gone through?" 
 
 Then, returning Pan Lantskoronski's pressure, he freed 
 himself from his embrace, and looking toward the bank he 
 said: 
 
 "Watch, your lordship, you will see another personality." 
 i The Under-Chamberlain turned and saw an officer on the 
 1 bank drawing a bow. 
 
 It was Pan Mushalski. 
 
 Hitherto the famous archer had been engaged with the 
 others in a hand to hand fight with the foe; but now that he 
 janissaries had reached so far that bullets could not reach 
 them, he drew his bow and, standing on the highest point 
 of the bank, he first tried the string with his finger and 
 when it twanged sharply he fitted a feathered arrow on it 
 and took aim. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 455 
 
 At that instant Volodiyovski and Lantskoronski looked 
 at him. It was a beautiful picture. The archer was sitting 
 on his horse with his left arm extended and holding the 
 bow as if in a vice. He drew back his right hand powerfully 
 to his breast till the veins on his brow swelled, and took care- 
 ful aim. In the distance, beneath a cloud of smoke, a 
 number of scows were visible on the river which was very 
 high with melted mountain snow and so transparent that 
 the scows and the janissaries sitting in them were reflected 
 in the water Pistols were silent 'on the bank and all eyes 
 were turned on Pan Mushalski, or gazing in the direction 
 which the murderous arrow was about to take. 
 
 Then the string loudly twanged and the feathered arrow 
 left the bow. No eye could follow its fight; but everybody 
 saw a sturdy janissary standing at an oar sudednly throw up 
 his arms and stagger and fall into the water. The trans- 
 parent surface splashed up under his weight and Pan Mu- 
 shalski said: 
 
 "For thee, Didyuk!" 
 
 Then he took another arrow. "In honor of the Hetman," 
 he said to his companions. 
 
 They held their breath; presently the air again whistled 
 and a second janissary fell in the bottom of the scow. 
 
 The oars began to move more quickly on all the scows 
 and struck the clear stream more powerfully; but the famous 
 archer turned with a smile to the little kinght. 
 
 "In honor of the worthy wife of your lordship." 
 
 A third time the bow was bent; a third time he despatched 
 a bitter arow; and a third time it sank half its length into 
 the body of a man. A shout of triumph arose on the bank 
 and a shout of rage from the scows. Pan Mushalski then 
 withdrew and the other victors of the day followed him into 
 the town. 
 
 On their return they were rejoiced to look upon the har- 
 vest of that day. Few of the horde had fallen, for they had 
 not made even one good stand, and when scattered they 
 quickly recrossed the river. But the janissaries lay to the 
 number of several dozens like neatly-bound sheaves. Pan 
 Volodiyovski said as he looked at them: 
 
 "Brave infantry! the men rush to battle like wild-boars; 
 but they don't know more than half what the Swedes do." 
 
 "They fired as a man would crack nuts," said the Under- 
 Chamberlain. 
 
456 
 
 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Tliat caine naturally, not from training, for they have 
 no general training. They were of the Sultan's guard and 
 have some kind of discipline; in addition to these there are 
 irregular janissaries who are greatly inferior." 
 
 "We have given them a souvenir! God is gracious to per- 
 mit us to begin the war with such a noteworthy victory. 
 
 But the experienced Pan Volodiyevski thought otherwise. 
 
 "This is a small and insignificant success," he said, "it 
 is good enough to inspirit untrained men and citizens, hut it 
 will be fruitless." 
 
 "But do you not think it will dispirit the Infidels?" 
 
 "The Infidels will not be discouraged," he said. 
 
 Thus conversing they reached the town, where the people 
 delivered up the two captured janissaries who had tried to 
 hide from Pan Volodiyovski in the sun-flowers. 
 
 One was slightly wounded and the other was quite sound 
 and full of wild courage. In the castle the little knight who 
 understod Turkish well enough though he did not speak 
 it fluently, asked Pan Makovyetska to question the man. Pan 
 Makovyetska inquired whether the Sultan himself were in 
 Khotsim and would soon come to Kamenets. 
 
 The Turk replied clearly and boldly: 
 
 "The Padishah himself is present. In the camp it was 
 said that to-morow the Pashas Halim and Murad would cross 
 with Mehentysy. To-morrow or the day after the hour of 
 destruction will strike for you." 
 
 Here the prisoner put his hands on his hips and, confident 
 in the terror inspired by the name of the Sultan, continued: 
 
 "Mad Poles! how did you dare in the presence of the 
 Sultan to attack us and slay his men? Do you think that 
 you will escape harsh punishment? Do you think that this 
 little castle will protect you? What will you be in a few 
 days but captives? What are you to-day but dogs flying at 
 your master's face?" 
 
 Pan Makovyetska carefully wrote down everything; but 
 Pan Volodiyovski struck him in the face for his last words, 
 to temper the insolence of the prisoner. The Turk was sur- 
 prised and immediately became more respectful to the little 
 knight and began to express himself more mildly. When the 
 examination was ended and they had brought him to the 
 hall Pan Volodiyovski said: 
 
 "We must send these prisoners and their confession at full 
 speed to Warsaw, for at the court of the king they do not 
 yet believe that war is imminent! 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 457 
 
 "AYhat are the Mehentysy with whom ITalil and Murad 
 have to be provided," asked Pan Lantskoronski. 
 
 "Mehentysy a.re engineers to prepare the earthworks for 
 the guns." 
 
 "'And what do you think, gentlemen, did that prisoner tell 
 the truth, or did he lie altogether?" 
 
 "IT you like, gentlemen/' answered Volodiyovski, "it is 
 possible to burn his heels. I have a sergeant who executed 
 Azya, the son of Tukhay Bey and who is exquisitissimus at 
 that business, but in my opinion the janissary told the exact 
 truth. The passage will soon commence, we cannot prevent 
 it, no! even if we were a hundred times more numerous. 
 The only thing left is' to get together and go to Kamenets 
 with the news." 
 
 "I have done so well at Jvanets that I should be very 
 pleased to shut myself up in the castle," said the Under- 
 Cbamberlam, "if I were sure that 'you would occasionally 
 come with aid from Kamenets. After that let what will hap- 
 pen !" 
 
 "They have two hundred cannon," said Pan Michael; "and, 
 if they bring two heavy guns across, this castle cannot hold 
 out for one day. I also wanted to shut myself up here, but 
 now I see that it would be futile." 
 
 The others agreed with the litlte knight. Pan Lantskor- 
 ontski, as though to parade his courage, still insisted for a 
 time on staying at Jvanets, but he was too experienced a sol- 
 dier not to see that Volodiyovski was right. At last he was 
 interrupted by Pan Vasllkovski who rushed in haste from 
 the field into the castle. 
 
 "Worthy gentlemen," he cried, "the river is not to be seen; 
 the whole Dniester is covered with craft." 
 
 "Are they crossing?" everybody asked at once. 
 
 "They are, as I live! The Turks are on rafts and the 
 chambuls are fording by the horses' tails." 
 
 Pan Lantskoronski hesitated no longer; he gave orders 
 at once for the old howitzer to be sunk and for the other 
 tilings either to be hidden or to be carried to Kamanets. Pan 
 Michael darted to his horse and with his men went to a dis- 
 tant eminence to watch the passage. 
 
 The Pashas Halil and Murad were indeed crossing. As 
 far as the eye could reach it saw scows and rafts propelled 
 by oars with measured strokes in the clear water. Janissaries 
 and spahis were moving together in great force, for craft 
 
PA A 7 MIC HALL. 
 
 for the passage had long been prepared at Khotsim. -^lore- 
 over great masses of troops were standing on the bank in the 
 distance. Pan Michael had supposed that they would build 
 a bridge, but the Sultan had not yet moved his main army. 
 Meanwhile Pan Lantskoronski arrived with his men and they 
 set out for Kamenets with the little knight. Pain Pototski 
 was awaiting them in the city. His quarters were full of 
 ( the commanding officers, and in fro-nt of the quarters were 
 assembled both sexes disquieted, careworn, and curious. 
 
 "The enemy is crossing and Jvanets is occupied!" said the 
 little knight. 
 
 "The works are completed, and we are waiting," replied 
 Pan Pototski. 
 
 The tidings spread to the crowd who began to make a 
 noise like waves. 
 
 "To the gates! to the. gates!" resounded through the city. 
 "The foe is in Jvanets!" Men and women ran to the fortifi- 
 actions expecting to see the foe; but the soldiers would not 
 let them go to the strategetical points. 
 
 "Go home!" they cried to the crowds; "you will hinder 
 the defence. Your wives will soon see the Turks close at 
 hand." 
 
 However there was no terror in the city, for the news of 
 that day's victory had already spread and it was naturally ex- 
 aggerated. The soldiers related marvels of the encounter.. 
 
 "Pan Volodiyovski defeated the janissaries, the Sultan's 
 own guard," was repeated by every lip. "It is not for In- 
 fidels to measure strength with Pan Volodiyovski. He cut 
 down the Pasha himself. The Devil is not so terrible as he 
 is painted! And they could not stand against our troops. 
 Good for you dog-brothers! Destruction to you and your 
 Sultan!" 
 
 The women again appeared at the entrenchments and bas- 
 tions laden with flasks of gorzalka, wine, and mead. This 
 ( time they were gladly welcomed and the soldiers became 
 ! very joyful. Pan Pototski did not object to this as he wanted 
 to stimulate the courage and cheerfulness of the men, and 
 because there was an inexhaustible supply of ammunition 
 in the city and castle he allowed them to fire salvos in the 
 hope that these -sounds of joy would dispirit the foe if it 
 should hear them. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski remained at the quarters of the General 
 of Podolia till nightfall and then he mounted his horse and 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 459 
 
 tried to escape unobserved with his servant to the con- 
 vent, with the desire of being with his wife as soon as 
 possible But his attempt was frustrated, for he was recog- 
 nized and crowds surrounded his horse. Shouts and vivats 
 arose. Mothers lifted up their children to him. 
 
 "There he is! look at him, remember him!" cried many 
 voices. He was greatly admired; but people who knew noth- 
 ing about war were astonished at his diminutive stature. 
 They could not get it into their heads that so small a man 
 with such a pleasant face, could be the Commonwealth's 
 most terrible soldier, and one whom none could resist But 
 he rode through the throngs and smiled from time to time, 
 for he was gratified. When he arrived at the convent he 
 fell into Bashka's open arms 
 
 She already knew of the deeds he had performed that day 
 and of all his masterly strokes; the Under-Chamberlain of 
 Podolia had just left the convent and, as an eye-witness, he 
 had given her a detailed report. At the beginning of his 
 tale Bashka had called in all the women present in the con- 
 vent, the ladies Pototska, Makovyetska, Humyetska, Ket- 
 ling, and Hotsimirska, and as the Under-Chamberlain pro- 
 ceeded she began to be greatly puffed up in their presence. 
 Volodiyovski arrived just after the women had gone. After 
 the greetings the wearied knight sat down to supper. Basia 
 sat beside him, heaped his plate with food and poured mead 
 into his goblet. He was glad to eat and drink for scarcely 
 anything had passed his lips the whole day. In the intervals 
 of eating he would tell something to Bashka, who listened 
 with sparkling eyes and shook her head as was her wont and 
 asked: 
 
 "Aha! Well! What then? what then?" 
 
 "There are powerful and very savage men among them, 
 but it is difficult to find a Turk who is a swordsman," said the 
 little knight. 
 
 "Then I could meet any of them?' 
 
 "You could, but you won't, for I won't take you." 
 
 "Not for once in my life? You know, little Michael, when 
 you go outside the walls I am not even restless; I know that 
 no one can touch you." 
 
 ^But can't they shoot me?" 
 
 "Be quiet! Is there not a Lord God? You will not let 
 them cut you down, and that's the chief thing." 
 
 "T will not let one or two slay me/' 
 
 "Nor three, Michael,, nor 
 
460 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Nor four thousand/ 'said Zagloba, imitating her. "If 
 you only knew, Michael, how she behaved while the Under- 
 Chamberlain was telling the story! I thought I should burst 
 with laughter. As I love Grod! she snorted just like a goat 
 and looked each woman in the face to see if she was properly 
 impressed. I was afraid that at last the goat would begin 
 to butt; no very decent spectacle." 
 
 The little knight stretched himself after his meal, for he 
 was quite tired; then he suddenly drew Basia to his side and 
 said: 
 
 "My quarters in the castle are prepared, but I don't want 
 to go back. Bashka, I suppose I may as well stay here /to- 
 night!' ' 
 
 "As you please, little Michael," she replied lowering her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Aha!" cried Zagloba, "they regard me here as a mush- 
 room instead of a man, for the abbess invites me to live in 
 the convent. But I'll pay her out; my head on it! Have 
 you noticed how Pan! Hotsomirska is casting eyes at me? 
 . . . She's a young widow, all right! I won't say any 
 more." 
 
 "I think I'll stay,' 'said the litlte knight. 
 
 "If you will only rest well," said Basia. 
 
 "Why shouldn't 'he rest?" cried Zagloba 
 
 "Because we shall talk, and talk, and talk." 
 
 Pan Zagloba wanted to retire and turned to look for his 
 cap; at last when he found it, he put it on his head and said: 
 
 "You will not talk, and talk, and talk." 
 
 Then he went out. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The next morning at daybreak the little knight went to 
 Knyahin where he fought with the Spahis and captured Buluk 
 Pasha, a famous warrior among the Turks. He spent the 
 whole day in the field, and part of the night taking council 
 with Pan Pototski, and not till the first cock-crow did he lay 
 down his tired head for a little sleep. But he had scarcely 
 fallen into a sweet and deep slumber when he was aroused by 
 the thunder of cannon. His 'faithful Jmudjian friend and 
 servant Pientk came into the -room. 
 
 "Sir," he said, "the enemy is before the city." 
 
 The little knight jumped out and asked: 
 
 "What guns are those?" 
 
 "Ours, ours, frightening the Pagans. There is a larg'e body 
 driving cattle off the meadows." 
 
 "Are they janissaries or cavalry?" 
 
 "'Cavalry: quite sorcerers! Our side is frightening them 
 with the Holy Cross, for who knows but that they are devils?" 
 
 "Devils or no devils, we must be at them," said the little 
 knight. "Go to the lady and tell her that I am in the field.. 
 If she likes to come to the castle to watch she may, if she 
 comes with Pan Zagloba, for I have the greatest confidence in 
 his foresight." 
 
 Half an hour later Pan Michael rode into the field at the 
 head of some dragoons and volunteer nobles who thought 
 they would have an opportunity to distinguish themselves in 
 skirmishing. From the old castle a perfect view was to be 
 had of the cavalry, about two thousand in number, partly 
 composed of spahis, but principally of the Egyptian guard of 
 the Sultan. In the latter served wealthy and generous mame- 
 lukes from the Nile. Their mail of shining scales, their bril- 
 liant kefis, woven with gold, on their heads, their white 
 burnooses and their weapons set with jewels, made them the 
 most brilliant cavalry in the world. They were armed with 
 darts fixed on jointed canes, and curved swords, and knives. 
 Mounted on horses as swift as the wind, they swept over the 
 
4 g 2 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 field like a rainbow-colored cloud, yelling and brandishing 
 the deadly darts. The Poles in the castle could not look at 
 them enough. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski advanced against them with his cavalry. 
 However it was difficult for both sides to meet with cold steel 
 as the Turks were held in check by the cannon of the castle 
 and they were too numerous for the little knight to go to 
 them and have a trial of strength out of the range of their 
 own cannon. So for some time both sides circled about at a 
 distance brandishing their weapons and uttering loud cries. 
 But at length these empty threats' evidently grew distasteful 
 to the fiery sons of the desert, for suddenly single horsemen 
 began to separate from the mass and advance, calling loudly 
 to their opponents. Soon they scattered over the field and 
 gleamed on it like flowers driven in A^arious directions by the 
 wind. Volodiyovski looked at his own men. 
 
 "Worthy gentlemen/' he said, "they are challenging us. 
 Who will go to the skirmish?" 
 
 The fiery cavalier, Pan Vasilkovski, was the first to spring 
 Out followed by Pan Mushalski, the infallible archer, but also 
 an excellent skirmisher in hand to hand fight; after them 
 came Pan Myazga of the Prus coat-of-arms who could carry 
 away a finger-ring on the point of his lance at full gallop; 
 after Pan Myazga came Pan Teodor Paderevski, Pan Ozievich, 
 Pan Shmlud-Plotski, Prince Ovsyani, and Pan Murkos- 
 Sheluta, with several other fine cavaliers; a small party of the 
 dragoons also went, attracted by the hope of rich spoil, and 
 most of all, by the matchless horses of the Arabs. The grim 
 Lusnia headed the dragoons, gnawing his yellow moustache 
 and picking out the richest foe from a distance. 
 
 It was a beautiful day. They were perfectly visible. One 
 by one the cannon on the walls became silent, till at last all 
 firing had ceased, for the gunners were afraid of hurting their 
 own men; they also preferred to watch the fray than to fire at 
 scattered skirmishers. The two sides advanced towards each 
 other at a walk, at first leisurely and then at a trot, not in line 
 "but independently as each man pleased. At length, as they 
 neared each other, they reined in their horses and began to 
 abuse one another to excite their own anger and courage. 
 
 "You will not put on any flesh with us, Infidel dogs!" cried 
 the Poles. "Your foul Prophet will not protect you here!" 
 
 The others responded in Turkish and Arabic. Many of 
 the skirmishing Poles were acquainted with both tongues, for. 
 
. PAN MICHAEL. 463 
 
 like the famous archer, many had passed through harsh 
 captivity; and so, when the Infidels blasphemed the Most 
 Holy Virgin with special insolence, the servants of Mary felt 
 their hair stand up on their heads with rage and Uhey spurred 
 their horses forward to take vengeance on those who insulted 
 her name. 
 
 Who struck the first blow and deprived a man of precious 
 life? First Pan Mushalski with an arrow pierced a young 
 bey, with a purple kefi on his head and dressed in mail of 
 silver scales bright as moonlight. The agonising shaft sank 
 below his left eye, burying itself half its length in his head. 
 Tie threw back his beautiful head and spread out his arms and 
 fell from his hors-e. The archer put his bow under his thigh 
 and sprang forward and cut him with the sabre in addition; 
 then, seizing the bey's beautiful weapons, and driving his 
 horse towards the castle with the flat of his sword, he cried 
 aloud in Arabic: 
 
 "I wish he were the Sultan's own son. He would rot here 
 before you played the last 'kindya.' r ' 
 
 "When the Turks and Egyptians heard that they were 
 furious and two beys immediately sprang together at Pan 
 Mushalski, but Lusnia, who was as savage as a wolf, inter- 
 cepted them from one side and bit one of them to death in the 
 twinkle of an eya He first slashed him over the hand and, 
 as the bey stooped for his fallen scimitar, Lusnia almost 
 severed his neck with a terrible stroke. At that sight the 
 other bey wheeled his horse as swift as the wind to escape, but 
 at that instant Pan Mushalski again took his bow from under 
 his thigh and sent an arrow after the fugitive; it reached him 
 on his flight and sank between his shoulder-blades almost to 
 the feathers. 
 
 Pan Shmlud-Plotski was the third to finish his enemy, 
 striking him on the helmet with a sharp battle-axe. The 
 blow drove in the silk and velvet lining of the steel and the 
 hooked point of the axe was imbedded so firmly in the skull 
 that for some time Pan Shmlud-Plotski could not draw it 
 forth. Others fought with varied fortune, but the nobles, 
 being the more skilful fencers, were generally victorious. 
 However two dragoons fell by the powerful hand of Hamdi 
 Bey, who then clove the face of Prince Ovsyani with a 
 scimitar and stretched him on the field. Prince Ovsyani 
 watered his native soil with his blood. Hamdi then turned 
 to Pan Sheluta, whose horse had put its foot into a burrow. 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 Sheluta, seeing that death was inevitable, preferred to meet 
 the terrible horseman on foot and sprang to the ground. But 
 Hamdi overthrew the Pole with the chest of his horse and 
 reached the falling man's arm with the very point of his 
 scimitar. The arm fell and the bey dashed on through the 
 field in search of other adversaries. 
 
 But not many had the courage to meet him, as he was so 
 manifestly and greatly their superior in strength. The wind 
 lifted his white burnoose on his shoulders and fluttered it like 
 the wings of a bird of prey; his gold-wrought mail cast an 
 ominous gleam on his almost black countenance, with its wild 
 and flashing eyes; a scimitar gleamed above his head like the 
 moon's sickle on a clear night. 
 
 The famous archer despatched two arrows at him, but both 
 merely clashed against his mail and fell powerless on the 
 grass. After the second, Pan Mushalski hesitated whether to 
 shoot a third at the neck of the horse, or rush on the bey with 
 his sabre. But while he was considering the bey caught 
 sight of him and spurred his black stallion towards him. 
 
 Both met in the middle of the field. With the desire of 
 exhibiting his great strength and taking Hamdi alive, Pan 
 Mushalski struck up his scimitar with a powerful blow and 
 closed with him; he grasped the bey's throat with one hand 
 and his pointed helmet with the other and' dragged from his 
 horse. But his own saddle-girth broke and the matchless 
 archer slipped with it and fell to the ground. Hamdi struck 
 the falling man on the head with the hilt of his scimitar and 
 stunned him. The spahis and mamelukes, who had been 
 fearful on Hamdi's account, now raised joyous shouts and the 
 Poles were greatly distressed. Then the opposing sides 
 dashed towards each other in thick masses, the one to capture 
 the archer and the other to protect his body. 
 
 Until now the little knight had taken no part in the skirm- 
 ish, as his dignity as colonel would not allow it; but, on seeing 
 the fall of Mushalski and the mastery of Hamdi, he de- 
 termined to avenge the archer and at the same time give heart 
 to his own men. Fired with this thought, he set spurs to 
 his horse and flew across the field as swiftly as a hawk swoops 
 on a flock of plover circling above the stubble. Bashka saw 
 him from the battlements as she gazed through a glass and 
 immediately cried out to Zagloba at her side: 
 
 "Michael is charging! Michael is charging!" 
 
 "You will recognize him," answered the old warrior, 
 v* Watch closely; see where he strikes the first blow! Fear not!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 465 
 
 The glass shook in Bashka's hand. Though as yet there 
 was no discharge in the field from bows or janissary guns, she 
 was not greatly alarmed about her husband's life, still she was 
 seized with ardor, curiosity, and disquietude. At that mo- 
 ment her heart and soul seemed to have left her body and to 
 be flying after him. Her breast heaved quickly and her face 
 flushed deeply. A-t one moment she had leaned so far over 
 the battlement that Zagloba seized her by the waist for fear 
 that she might fall in to the moat. 
 
 "Two are charging Michael/ 7 she cried. 
 
 "There will be two less," replied Zagloba. 
 
 In fact two spahis came out against the little knight. They 
 knew from his uniform that he was a man of some importance 
 and, seeing the diminutive size of the horseman, they thought 
 to gain glory cheaply. The fools! they were flying to certain 
 death; for, when they came up the little knight did not even 
 rein in his horse, but delivered two blows, apparently as light 
 as when a mother pushes two children as she passes. They 
 both fell to the ground and dug their fingers into it and 
 writhed like two lynxes simultaneously struck by two death- 
 dealing arrows. 
 
 The little knight sped on towards other horsemen dashing 
 about the field and commenced to spread terrible disaster. 
 As at the end of Mass a boy comes in with a metal ex- 
 tinguisher on a pole and puts out the candles on the altar one 
 after another and the altar is left in darkness, so Pan Michael 
 quenched right and left the brilliant Turkish and Egyptian 
 horsemen and they sank into the shades of death. The Infi- 
 dels recognized a master above all others and their hearts 
 fainted in them. One by one they turned their horses so as 
 to avoid the terrible leader; the little knight pursued the fugi- 
 tives like a vicious wasp and pierced one after another with 
 his sting. 
 
 At this sight the castle gunners uttered joyous shouts. 
 Some of them rushed up to Basia and kissed the hem of her 
 robe in the height of their enthusiasm; others abused the 
 Turks. 
 
 "Restrain yourself, Basia!" cried Zagloba every few mo- 
 ments, while he kept hold of her waist; but Pani Volodi- 
 yovska wanted to laugh and cry and clap her hands and shout 
 and watch and fly to her husband in the field. 
 
 He continued to despatch spahis and Egyptian beys, till at 
 last cries of "Hamdi! Hamdi!" arose throughout the field. 
 
466 PA * MICHAEL. 
 
 The followers of the Prophet called aloud for their greatest 
 warrior to match himself with this terrible little cavalier who 
 appeared to be Death in person. 
 
 Hamdi had seen the little knight for some time; but at the 
 sight of his exploits he was simply afraid of him. He was 
 terrified at the thought of risking at the same time his great 
 fame and young life against such a dread opponent, and so he 
 pretended not to see him and began to busy himself at the 
 other end of the field. He had just put an end to Pan 
 Yalbjyk and Pan Kos when despairing cries of "Hamdi! 
 Hamdi!" reached his ear. He saw then that he could not 
 keep out of the way any longer and that he must win bound- 
 less glory or lose his life. At that moment he uttered so shrill 
 a cry all the cliffs echoed and he spurred his horse as swiftly 
 as a whirlwind towards the little knight. 
 
 Volodiyovski saw him from afar and also dug his spurs into 
 the sides of his Wallachian bay. All the others paused in the 
 armed dispute. At the castle, Basia, who had just before 
 witnessed all the deeds of the terrrible Hamdi-Bey, became 
 rather pale notwithstanding her blind faith in the little 
 knight, the unconquerable swordsman; but Zagloba was quite 
 easy. 
 
 "I would rather be the heir of that Infidel than that Infidel 
 himself," he said sententiously to Basia. 
 
 Pientk, the slow Jmudjian, was so sure of his master that 
 his face was not shaded with the least anxiety, but seeing 
 Hamdi charging he began to hum a popular song: 
 
 "0 thou foolish, foolish watch-dog, 
 That's a grey wolf from the forest. 
 Why dost thou chase him 
 If thou art not able to overcome him?" 
 
 The champions met in the centre of the field between the 
 two ranks who looked on from a distance. For a moment 
 the hearts of all died within them. Then serpentine light- 
 ning seemed to flash in the bright sun above the heads of the 
 combatants; but the scimitar flew out of Hamdi's hand like 
 an arrow from a bowstring; he bowed on his saddle as if 
 pierced by the point of a blade and closed his eyes. Pan 
 Volodiyovski grasped his neck with his left hand and holding 
 his sabre to his armpit, turned towards his own men. Hamdi 
 offered no resistance; he even spurred his horse forward, for 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 407 
 
 he felt the point between his armpit and armor. He went 
 like one stunned, with his hands hanging powerless,, and tears 
 began to fall from his eyes. Yolodiyovski turned him over to 
 the cruel Lusnia, and himself returned to the field. 
 
 Bat trumpets and pipes sounded in the Turkish ranks as 
 a signal for the skirmishers to retreat. They began to retire 
 towards their own troops, carrying with them humiliation, 
 rage, and the memory of the terrible horseman. 
 
 "That was Shaitan!" (Satan) the spahis and mamelukes 
 said to each other. "He who meets that man is doomed to 
 death! Shaitan, no other !" 
 
 The Polish skirmishers remained for some time to show 
 that they held the field; then, raising three shouts of victory, 
 they withdrew under the cover of their own guns which Pan 
 Pototski ordered to fire again. But the Turks began to re- 
 treat altogether. For some time yet their burnooses and their 
 colored kefis and glittering helmets gleamed in the sun and 
 then disappeared on the horizon. 
 
 Only the Turks and Poles who had fallen beneath the sword 
 remained. Servants came out of the castle to collect and 
 bury their own people. The ravens came to work at the 
 burial of the Infidels, but they did not stay long, for fresh 
 legions of the Prophet frightened them away that evening. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On the following day the vizir himself arrived before 
 Kamenets at the head of a numerous army of spahis, janis- 
 saries, and general levies from Asia. From the great strength 
 of his force it was concluded that he would storm the place 
 at once; but he wished only to examine the walls. Engineers 
 accompanied him to inspect the fortress and earthworks. Pan 
 Myslishevski this time went out against the vizir with some 
 infantry and mounted volunteers. Another skirmish began 
 which was favorable to the besieged, though not so brilliant 
 as the previous day. At last the vizir ordered the janissaries 
 to make an attempt against the walls. The thunder of cannon 
 at once shook the city and castle. When the janissaries came 
 opposite the command of Pan Podchaski they all fired a great 
 volley; but Pan Podchaski answered from above with a well- 
 directed fire and, as there was some fear of cavalry flanking 
 the janissaries, they retired along the Jvanets road and re- 
 turned to the main camp. 
 
 In the evening a certain Bohemian slunk into the city; he 
 had been a groom of the aga of the janissaries and had de- 
 serted after being bastinadoed. The Poles learned from him 
 that the Turks had fortified themselves at Jvanets and oc- 
 cupied broad meadows on this side of the Dlujka village. 
 They made minute inquiries of the fugitive as to the general 
 opinion among the Turks whether they could capture Kamen- 
 ets or not. He replied that the courage of the army was high 
 and the omens were favorable. A couple of days before a 
 kind of column of smoke, slender at the base and expanding 
 above in the form of a great bush, had risen from the earth 
 in front of the Sultan's pavilion. The muftis had inter- 
 preted this as signifying that the glory of the Padishah would 
 reach to the Heavens and that he would be the ruler to crush 
 Kamenets, hitherto impregnable. This had greatly strength- 
 ened the hearts of all in the army. The fugitive added: "The 
 Turks fear Pan Hetman Sobieski and relief; they remember 
 of old the danger of meeting the troops of the Commonwealth 
 
J'.i'X MICHAEL. 469 
 
 in the open field, though they are willing to meet Venetians, 
 Hungarians, or any other people. But, since they have in- 
 telligence that there are no troops in the Commonwealth, they 
 are generally of the opinion that they will take Kamenets, 
 though not without trouble. Black Mustafa, the kaimakan, 
 has simply counselled to storm the walls; but the more 
 cautious vizir prefers to invest the city with regular works 
 and rain grenades into it. After the first skirmishes the 
 Sultan agreed with the vizir, and so a regular siege is to be 
 looked for." 
 
 Thus spoke the deserter. On hearing this news, Pan Potot- 
 ski, and the bishop, the Under-Chamberlain, Pan Volodi- 
 yovski and all the other superior officers were greatly grieved. 
 They had reckoned on stormings and hoped "by the defensive 
 condition of the place to repulse them with severe loss to the 
 enemy. They knew by experience that storming-parties suffer 
 great losses, and that every attack repulsed weakens their 
 courage and strengthens that of the besieged. As at Zbaraj 
 the knights at last came to delight in resistance, battle, and 
 sorties, so the inhabitants of Kamenets might acquire the love 
 of fight, especially if every attack should end in defeat for 
 the Turks and victory for the city. 
 
 But a regular siege, in which the digging of approaches and 
 mines and the emplacement of guns constitute the whole mat- 
 ter, would only tire out the besieged, weaken their spirit, and 
 incline them to negotiate. It was difficult also to depend upon 
 sorties, for it was not wise to strip the walls of soldiers, and 
 should the servants and others be led beyond the walls, they 
 could hardly withstand against the janissaries. 
 
 When they considered all this the chief officers were greatly 
 troubled and it seemed less likely that the defence would 
 have a happy ending. In fact there was small chance of suc- 
 cess on account of the state of affairs among themselves as 
 well as on account of the Turkish force. Pan Volodiyovski 
 was a matchless soldier and very celebrated, but he did not 
 possess the majesty of greatness. The man who has the sun 
 in himself can warm all others wherever they may be; but he 
 who is merely a flame, however ardent, can only" warm those 
 who are closest to him. Thus it was with the little knight. 
 He did not know how to inspire others with his own spirit, 
 and could not do it even as he could not impart his own skill 
 in fencing. Pan Pototski, the supreme chief, was no war- 
 rior; and moreover he had no faith in himself, or in others, 
 
470 MICHAEL. 
 
 or in the Commonwealth. The bishop relied principally on 
 negotiations; his brother had a heavy hand, but his head was 
 equally heavy. Relief was improbable, for, though the Het- 
 man, Pan Sobieski, was a great man, he had no power at 
 that time. Powerless also was the King and the entire Com- 
 monwealth. 
 
 On the 16th of August the Khan arrived with the Horde, 
 and Doroshenko with his Cossacks, and occupied an enormous 
 expanse of the fields extending from Orynina. Sufan Kazi 
 Aga on that day invited Pan Myslishevski to a conference and 
 advised him to surrender the place, for by so doing he would 
 receive more favorable conditions that had ever yet been heard 
 of in the history of sieges. The bishop was curious to learn 
 what were these favorable conditions, but he was shouted 
 down in the council and a refusal was sent back in reply. On 
 the 18th of August the Turks began to advance, and the Sul- 
 tan with them. 
 
 They came on like a boundless ocean, infantry, janissaries, 
 and spahis. Each pasha led the forces of his own pashalik, 
 comprising inhabitants of Europe, Asia, and Africa. They 
 were followed by an enormous train of baggage-wagons, drawn 
 by mules and buffaloes. That hundred-hued swarm, variously 
 costumed and armed, seemed to be endless. From dawn till 
 night those leaders kept coming, moved from place to place, 
 stationed posted troops, moved about in the fields and pitched 
 their tents, that occupied such tremendous expanse that from 
 the towers and highest points of Kameuets not a field free 
 from canvas was visible. It looked to the gazers as if snow 
 had fallen and covered the whole region round about. The 
 work was accomplished amid volleys of musketry, for the 
 jannissaries protecting it fired ceaselessly at the walls of the 
 fortress and were answered by a continuous cannonade from 
 the walls. The cliffs echoed the thunder and smoke rose and 
 obscured the blue of the sky. Towards evening Kamenets 
 was so hemmed in that nothing could leave it but pigeons. 
 The firing ceased only when the first stars began to twinkle. 
 
 For several succeeding days the firing at and from the walls 
 was kept up without ceasing. It resulted in great loss to the 
 besiegers, for immediately a group of janissaries gathered 
 within range, white smoke spurted from the walls and balls 
 fell among them, scattering them like a flock of sparrows when 
 they are fired at with fine shot from a musket. In the mean- 
 time the Turks, being evidently ignorant that in both castles 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 47 ! 
 
 and in the town there were long-range guns, pitched their 
 tents too near. By Pan Michael's advice this was allowed, 
 and not till the hour of rest, when the soldiers had crowded 
 into those tents to avoid the heat, did the walls roar with con- 
 tinuous thunder. Then there was a panic; the balls tore 
 through the tents, broke the poles, struck the soldiers, and 
 scattered sharp fragments of rock about. The Janissaries re- 
 treated in dismay and confusion, uttering loud cries; in their 
 flight they overturned other tents and carried fear with them 
 in every direction. While they were in this disorder Pan 
 Volodiyovski fell upon them with troopers and hewed them 
 till a strong force of cavalry came to their aid. Ketling prin- 
 cipally directed this fire, and next to him the Polish bailiff, 
 Cyprian, effected the most havoc among the Infidels. He 
 sighted every gun and applied the match himself; then he 
 would shield his eyes with his hand and watch the effect of 
 the shot, exulting in his success. 
 
 However, the Turks were digging approaches, making in- 
 trenchments, and arming them with heavy guns. But, before 
 firing them, a Turkish envoy came under the walls, fastened a 
 letter from the Sultan to a pike, and exhibited it to the be- 
 sieged. The Sultan summoned the city to surrender, while 
 extolling his own power and clemency to the skies. 
 
 "My army," he wrote, "may be likened to the leaves of the 
 forest, and the sands of the sea. Look at the sky and, when 
 you see the countless stars, let your hearts be afraid and say 
 one to another, 'Behold, such is the force of the believers. 
 But because I am a king, merciful above all other things, 
 and a grandson of the True God, I receive my right from God. 
 Know that I hate stubborn men, therefore do not oppose 
 my will but surrender your city. If you resist, you shall all 
 perish under the sword, and no voice of man will be raised 
 against me." 
 
 They consulted at length what reply to give to this letter 
 and rejected Zagloba's rash advice to cut off a dog's tail and 
 send it by way of a response. FinaMy they despatched a man 
 named Yuritsa, who was well versed in Turkish. He carried 
 a letter that read as follows: 
 
 "We have no desire to anger the Sultan, but we do not 
 consider it our duty to obey him, for we have not taken an 
 oath to him but to our own lord. We will not surrender 
 Kamenets, for we are bound by an oath to defend the fortress 
 and churches so long as we have life." 
 
472 MICHAEL. 
 
 After this reply the officers went to their posts on the walls. 
 Bishop Lantskoronski and the General of Podolia took ad- 
 vantage of their absence to send another letter to the Sultan, 
 asking for an armistice of four weeks. When the news of 
 this spread around the gates there was an uproar and clatter- 
 ing of sabres. The officers said to each other, "Here we are 
 roasting at the guns and behind our backs they are secretly 
 sending letters, although we are members of the council." 
 
 At the evening 'kindya/ the officers went in a body to the 
 General of Podolia, with the little knight and the stolnik of 
 Latychov at their head, both being greatly upset by what had 
 occurred. 
 
 "How is this?" asked Makovyetska. "Are you already 
 thinking of surrendering, since you have sent another envoy? 
 Why was this done without informing us?" 
 
 "Indeed," said the little knight, "since we were called to 
 the council it was wrong to send any letters without our 
 knowledge. Neither will we allow anyone to utter the word 
 'surrender/ if anybody wants to do so let him resign his 
 post." 
 
 His lips twitched as he spoke; since he was a soldier of the 
 most scrupulous obedience he was deeply grieved to speak 
 thus against his superiors. But as he had vowed to defend the 
 nastle to the death, he thought: "It is incumbent on me to 
 speak." 
 
 The General of Podolia was confused and replied: 
 
 "I thought it was done with general consent." 
 
 "There is no consent. We will die here!" cried many voices. 
 
 "I am glad to hear that," said the General, "for faith is 
 dearer to me than life, and I have never known cowardice, 
 and never shall.' Noble gentlemen, stay to supper, and we 
 shall come to an agreement more readily." 
 
 But they would not stay. 
 
 "Our place is at the gates, not at the table," said the little 
 knight. 
 
 At this moment the biehop arrived, and, learning what was 
 the matter, he at once turned to Pan Makovyetska and the 
 little knight. 
 
 "Worthy gentlemen," he said, "we are all agreed in what 
 we have at heart and nobody has said a word about surrender- 
 ing. I sent to ask for an armistice for four weeks; I wrote 
 thus: 'In that interval we will send to our king for help and 
 await his instructions and God will decide the rest." 
 
 When the little knight heard that he was still more dis- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 turbed, but now he was carried away with anger and scorn 
 at such military ideas. A soldier from his boyhood, he could 
 not believe his ears, nor that anybody could propose an armis- 
 tice to a foe to allow him to send for help. 
 
 The little knight looked from Makovyetska to the other 
 officers and they looked at him. 
 
 "Is this a jest?" cried several voices. Then they were all 
 silent. 
 
 "Your lordship," at last said Pan Michael, "I fought 
 through the Tartar, Cossack, Moscow, and Swedish wars, and 
 I never heard of such reasons. The Sultan has come here to 
 please himself, not us. How should he consent to an armistice 
 when we write that at its expiration we expect assistance?" 
 
 "If he does not consent, the situation will be still the same," 
 said the bishop. 
 
 "Whoever prays for an armis-tice," said Volodiyovski, 
 "shows fear and weakness, and whoever looks for assistance 
 doubts his own strength. The Infidel will come to this con- 
 clusion from your letter, and thus it has wrought irreparable 
 injury." 
 
 When the bishop heard this he grew sad and said: 
 
 "I might be elsewhere, and because I did not desert my 
 flock in time of need I have to submit to reprimand." 
 
 The little knight was immediately sorry for the worthy 
 prelate, so he put his arms about his knees and kissed his 
 hands and said: 
 
 "God preserve me from uttering any reprimand here; but 
 as this is a council; I speak what is dictated by my exper- 
 ience." 
 
 "What is to be done then? Let the fault be mine, but what 
 is to be done? How repair the harm?" asked the bishop. 
 
 "How repair the harm?" repeated Volodiyovski. 
 
 After a moment's thought, he joyously raised his head. 
 
 "Well, it is possible. Worthy gentlemen, I beg you to 
 follow me." 
 
 He went out, followed by the officers. A quarter of an 
 hour later all Kamenets shook with the roar of cannon. 
 Volodiyovski dashed outside the walls with volunteers, and 
 falling upon the sleeping janissaries in the trenches, he sabred 
 them till he dispersed and drove the whole force to the main 
 camp. 
 
 Then he returned to the General of Podolia and found the 
 bishop with him. 
 
 "Here," he cried joyfully, "here is counsel for Your High- 
 ness;" 
 
CHAPTER XVin. 
 
 After that sortie the night passed in desultory firing; at 
 dawn it was announced that several were standing near the 
 castle waiting till men were sent out to parley. Let be what 
 would it was necessary to know what they wanted, and so the 
 chiefs Pan Makovyetska and Pan Myslishevski were deputed 
 by the council to meet the Infidels. 
 
 A little later they were joined by Pan Casimir Humyetski 
 and they went out. There were three Turks, Mukhtan-Bey, 
 Salomi, Pasha of Kustchuk, and Kozra, an interpreter. The 
 meeting took place in the open air outside the castle gate. 
 On seeing the envoys the Turks began to bow and put the 
 tips of their fingers to their hearts, mouths, and brows; the 
 Poles politely saluted them, and inquired their mission. 
 Salomi replied: 
 
 . "Dear men, a great wrong, over which all who love justice 
 must weep, has been done to our Lord, and for this the Eter- 
 nal will punish you unless you correct it without delay. Be- 
 hold, of your own will you sent Yuritsa, who beat his fore- 
 head before our vizir and prayed him for a suspension of hos- 
 tilities. When we, trusting in your virtue, left the trenches, 
 you commenced to fire on us with cannon and, springing out 
 from behind the walls, you strewed the ground with corpses 
 to the very tents of the Padishah; which deed cannot go un- 
 punished unless you at once surrender the castle and the city 
 and exhibit great regret and repentance." 
 
 To this Makovyetska made reply: 
 
 "Yuritsa is a dog who exceeded his instructions, for he or- 
 dered his attendants to display a white flag, for which he will 
 be judged. On his own initiative the bishop made inquiries 
 whether an armistice could be arranged; but you did not cease 
 firing during the despatch of those letters. (I myself am wit- 
 ness to that, since I was wounded in the mouth by shattered 
 stones.) So that you have no right to ask us to cease firing. 
 If you have now come prepared with an armistice, it is well; 
 if not, tell your lord, dear men, that we will defend the walls 
 
 (474) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 475 
 
 and town as before until we perish,, or, what is more certain, 
 until you, dear men, perish among these rocks. We have 
 nothing more to give you except wishes that God may multiply 
 your days and permit you to live to an old age." 
 
 Then the- envoys immediately separated. The Turks re- 
 turned to the vizir, and Makovyetska, Humyetski, and Mys- 
 lishevski to the castle. They were deluged with questions as 
 to how they had dismissed the envoys. They repeated the 
 Turkish message. 
 
 "Don't accept it, dear brothers, "said Casimir Humyetski. 
 "In short, those dogs want us to deliver up the keys of the 
 city before evening." 
 
 To this many voices answered with their favorite expres- 
 sion: 
 
 "That Infidel dog will not put on flesh with us. We will 
 not surrender; we will drive him away in disorder. We do 
 not want him." 
 
 After this decision they all separated and the firing at once 
 recommenced. The Turks had already succeeded in mounting 
 many heavy guns and their balls flew over the ramparts and 
 began to fall into the city. The gunners in the city and 
 castles worked in the sweat of their brow for the rest of the 
 day and all night. When a man fell there was no one to take 
 his place, and they were short of men to carry ammunition. 
 Not till nearly dawn did the uproar somewhat abate. 
 
 But the day was scarcely growing grey in the east and the 
 rosy gold-edged band of dawn appearing when the alarm was 
 sounded in both castles. All who were sleeping sprang to 
 their feet and drowsy crowds poured into the streets intently 
 listening. "They are getting ready to storm," some of them 
 said to the others as they pointed in the direction of the castle. 
 "But is Pan Volodiyovski there?" frightened voices asked. 
 "He is," others replied. 
 
 The chapel bells were rung in the castles and everywhere 
 was heard the roll of drums. In the morning twilight, when 
 the town was comparatively silent, these noises sounded solemn 
 and mysterious. At that moment the Turks played the 
 "kindya;" one band took it up from another and so it rolled 
 throughout the enormous camp. The Infidels began to swarm 
 about the tents. As the dawn brightened, the mounds, 
 trenches, and approaches started out of the darkness extend- 
 ing in a long line facing the castle. The heavy Turkish guns 
 immediately thundered along the whole line; the cliffs of th 
 
476 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Smotrych echoed back the thunder and the noise was as 
 dreadful as if all the thunders in heaven's magazine has 
 caught fire and exploded at once and brought down the dome 
 of clouds with them to the earth. 
 
 That was an artillery battle. The city and castles gave 
 mighty response. The sun and daylight were soon obscured 
 by the smoke and the Turkish works were invisible. Kamenets 
 was hidden and only one immense cloud filled with lightning, 
 thunder and uproar, was to be seen. But the guns of the 
 Turks carried farther than those of the city. Death soon 
 began to cut down people in Kamenets. Several guns were 
 dismounted. At the arquebuses men fell by twos and threes. 
 A Franciscan Father while blessing the guns had his nose and 
 part of his lip carried away by a wedge from under a cannon 
 and two very resolute Jews who were assisting to work that 
 gun were killed. 
 
 But the Turkish guns played principally on the city en- 
 trenchments. Pan Casimir Humyetski sat there like a sala- 
 mander amid tremendous fire and smoke; half of his com- 
 pany had fallen and nearly all the survivors were wounded. 
 He himself had lost his speech and hearing; but with the as- 
 sistance of the Polish mayor he silenced the enemy's batter}', 
 at least till fresh guns were brought up. 
 
 A day passed, and a second, and third; and that dreadful 
 artillery duel did not cease for an instant. The Turks had 
 four reliefs of gunners a day; but in the city the same men 
 had to work the whole time without sleep and almost without 
 food; half-stifled with smoke, many were wounded with flying 
 masonry and splinters of the gun-carriages. The soldiers 
 were steadfast but the hearts of the inhabitants began to fail 
 them. At la>st it became necessary to drive them with clubs 
 to the guns, where they fell in heaps. Fortunately, on the 
 third evening, from Thursday to Friday, the guns were 
 chiefly turned on the castles. 
 
 Both, but the old one especially, were showered with bombs 
 from the great mortars which, however, did little damage be- 
 cause each grenade was visible in the dark and a man could 
 avoid it. But towards morning, when the men were seized 
 with such weariness that they could not keep their feet, they 
 perished in considerable numbers. 
 
 The little knight, Ketling, Myslishevski, and Kvasibrodzi 
 replied to the Turkish fire from the castles. The General of 
 Podolia visited them repeatedly and moved unconscious of 
 ganger, though anxious, amid a hail of bullets. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 However, towards evening, when the fire had grown still 
 hotter, Pan Pototski approached Pan Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Colonel," he said, "we shall not hold out." 
 
 "We shall hold out so long as they confine themselves to 
 firing,' 7 answered the little knight, "but they will hlow us out 
 of here with mines, for they are constructing them." 
 
 "Are they really mining?" asked the general in alarm. 
 
 Volodiyovski replied: 
 
 "Seventy guns are playing and their roar is almost con- 
 tinuous, but there are quiet moments. When one comes, 
 lean your ear intently, and listen." 
 
 Just then it was not necessary to wait long, more especially 
 as an accident favored them. One of the Turkish siege-guns 
 burst, causing considerable confusion. From other trenches 
 inquiries were made as to what had occurred, and so the bom- 
 bardment temporarily ceased. 
 
 Pan Michael and the General approached the edge of one of 
 the abutments of the castle and began to listen. Presently 
 they clearly discerned the sound of pickaxes striking the stone 
 of the wall. 
 
 "They are mining," said Pan Pototski. 
 
 "They are mining," repeated the little knight. 
 
 Then they were silent. The General's face betrayed great 
 alarm; he lifted his hands and pressed his brow. Seeing that 
 Volodiyovski said: 
 
 "That is the usual thing in every siege. At Zbaraj they 
 were digging under us night and day." 
 
 The general raised Jiis head. 
 
 "What did Prince Vishnyovyetski do?" 
 
 "We retired from wide ramparts within narrower ones." 
 
 "But what ought we to do?" 
 
 "We ought to take the guns and everything movable with 
 them and transfer them to the old castle; for that is founded 
 on rock that the Turks cannot mine. I always thought that 
 the new castle would merely serve as the first line of defence; 
 after that we must blow it up with powder and the real de- 
 fence will commence in the old one." 
 
 A moment's silence followed, and the General again bowed 
 his anxious head. 
 
 But if we have to evacuate the old castle, where shall we 
 go?" he asked in a broken voice. 
 
 At this question the little knight straightened himself and 
 pointed his finger to the earth: 
 
478 
 
 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 "I shall go there!" 
 
 At that moment the guns again thundered and a whole 
 flock of grenades began to fly to the castle; but as darkness 
 shrouded the world they were perfectly visible. Volodiyovski 
 took leave of the general and went round the walls. Pro- 
 ceeding from one battery to another he encouraged the men 
 everywhere and gave advice; at last he met Ketling and said: 
 
 "Well, how goes it?" 
 
 Ketling smiled. 
 
 "The grenades make it as bright as day," he said, pressing 
 the little knight's hand. "They do not stint us with fire." 
 
 "One of their good guns burst; did you do it?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "I am dreadfully sleepy." 
 
 "So am I, but there is no leisure for that." 
 
 "Bah!" exclaimed Volodiyovski, "and the little wives must 
 be frightened; at that thought sleep takes flight." 
 
 "They are praying for us," said Ketling, raising his eyes 
 towards the flying grenades. 
 
 "God grant health to mine and thine!" cried Pan Michael. 
 
 "There are no women among all upon earth" began Ket- 
 ling. 
 
 But he did now conclude, for the little knight at that mo- 
 ment turned towards the interior of the castle and suddenly 
 cried loudly: 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! Save us! What do I see?" 
 
 And he sprang forward. Ketling looked round in aston- 
 ishment. A few paces distant in the courtyard of the castle 
 he saw Basia, Zagloba, and the Jmudjian Pientk. 
 
 "To the wall! to the wall!" cried the little knight, dragging 
 them as quickly as possible under cover of the "battlements. 
 "'For Heaven's sake!" 
 
 "Ah!" said Zagloba brokenly, as he panted, "persuade such 
 a woman yourself if you can. I remonstrate with her and 
 say, 'You will destroy both yourself and me.' 1 kneel down, 
 no use. Could I allow her to go alone? Ugh! No use, no 
 use! 'I will go, I will go,' I cried. Take her!" 
 
 There was fear in Basia's face and her brow was puckered 
 as if about to weep. But it was not the grenades that she 
 dreaded, nor the whizzing of the balls, nor the scattering 
 stone, but her husband's anger. So she clasped her hands like 
 a child in fear of punishment and exclaimed in sobbing tones: 
 
 "I could not, Michael dear; as I love you I could not. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 479 
 
 Don't be angry, Michael clear! I cannot stay there while you 
 are perishing here. 1 cannot, I cannot! 1 ' . . . 
 
 Indeed at first lie was angry and had exclaimed, "Bashka, 
 you have no fear of God!" but he was seized with a sudden 
 tenderness and his voice stuck in his throat, and not till that 
 beloved shining head was resting on his breast did he say: 
 
 "You are my faithful friend until death." 
 
 And he kissed her hands. 
 
 But Zagloba went up to the wall and said to Ketling. 
 
 "And yours wanted to come too, but we deceived her, tell- 
 ing her that we were not coming. How could she come in 
 euch a state? ... A general of artillery will be born to you. 
 I'm a rascal if he won't be a general. Well, on the bridge be- 
 tween the city and the castle the grenades are falling like 
 peas. I thought I should burst, . . . with anger, not with 
 fear. ... I slipped on some sharp pieces of shell and cut 
 myself. I shan't be able to sit down for a week without pain. 
 The nuns will have to anoint me without minding their mod- 
 esty. . . . Phew! but those rascals are firing. May the thun- 
 derbolts strike them! Pan Pototski wants to resign the com- 
 mand to me. . . . Give the soldiers a drink, or they won't 
 hold out. . . . See that grenade! As God lives, it will fall 
 somewhere near us! Hide yourself, Basia! By God, it is 
 near!" 
 
 But the grenade fell far away instead of near, for it fell 
 on the Lutheran church of the old castle. Ammunition had 
 been stored there as the dome was very strong, but the grenade 
 broke the dome and exploded the powder. The foundations 
 of both castles were shaken by an explosion louder than the 
 thunder of guns. Terrified voices were heard on the battle- 
 ments. Both the Polish and Turkish guns were silent. 
 
 Ketling left Zagloba and Volodiyovski left Basia. They 
 both sprang to the walls with all the power of their limbs. 
 For some time they were both heard giving orders with pant- 
 ing breasts; but their voices were drowned by the rattle of 
 drums in the Turkish trenches. 
 
 "They will make an assault," whispered Zagloba, 
 
 In fact when the Turks heard the explosion they appar- 
 ently supposed that both castles were destroyed and that the 
 defenders were half buried in the ruins and half paralyzed 
 with fear. Under that impression they prepared to storm the 
 place. Fools! They did not know that only the Lutheran 
 church had gone up! The only effect produced by the ex- 
 
4?o .P- IV MK'IIAVL. 
 
 plosion was the shock; not even a gun had been dismounted 
 in the new castle. But the roll of the drums grew more and 
 more hurried in the trenches. Janissaries came crowding out 
 of the trenches and advanced towards the castle at the double. 
 It is true that no lights were visible in the castle or Turkish 
 trenches, but it was a clear night and the moonlight revealed 
 dense masses of janissary white caps rising and falling in the 
 rush like waves driven by the wind. Some thousands of janis- 
 saries and several hundred volunteers were dashing on with 
 fury and the certain hope of victory in their hearts; but many 
 of them would never again see the minarets of Stambul, the 
 bright waters of the Bosphorus, and the dark cypresses of the 
 cemeteries. 
 
 Yolodiyovski ran along the walls like a spirit. 
 
 "Don't fire! Wait for the word!" he cried at every gun. 
 
 The dragoons with their muskets were lying flat on the bat- 
 tlements,, breathing hard with determination. There was si- 
 lence, except for the hurried tread of the janissaries, sounding 
 like low thunder. The nearer they came the more sure they 
 felt of taking the castle with one stroke. Many thought that 
 those of the defenders who were left had retired into the city 
 and that the battlements were deserted. When they reached 
 the fosse they began to fill it with fascines and sacks of straw; 
 and filled it in the twinkle ( f an eye. On the walls the silence 
 was unbroken. 
 
 But when the front ranks stood on the material with which 
 they had filled the fosse, the report of a pistol was heard in 
 one of the embrasures and a shrill voice shouted: 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 Both bastions and the connecting rampart burst at the same 
 moment into one long stream of fire. The thunder of cannon, 
 the rattle of musketry, and the shouts of the storming-party 
 were all mingled. When a dart cast by the hand of a strong 
 hunter plunges half its length into the belly of a bear, the 
 beast rolls itself up, roars, casts itself down, squirms, straight- 
 ens out, and rolls up again, and the crowd of janissaries and 
 irregulars acted just in that manner. Not a single shot of the 
 defenders was thrown away. Cannon, charged with grape, 
 laid the men as flat as a pavement, exactly as a mighty wind 
 levels standing grain at one blast. Those who were attacking 
 the connecting rampart between the bastions found them- 
 selves under three fires, and they became a panic-stricken 
 mass in the centre and fell so thickly that they formed a quiv- 
 
/M.V MK'H.iKL. 481 
 
 cring heap. Ketling rained grape-shot from two guns on 
 that mass, and at last when they began to take to flight he 
 closed the narrow exit between the two bastions with a shower 
 of lead and iron. 
 
 The assault was repulsed along the whole line and the janis- 
 saries left the fosse and fled like madmen, howling with terror. 
 In the Turkish trenches they began to throw flaming tar- 
 buckets and torches, turning night into day, so as to make a 
 sortie in pursuit difficult. 
 
 Meanwhile, Volodiyovski, seeing that mass hemmed inl^e- 
 tween the bastions, shouted for his dragoons and sallied out. 
 The hapless Turks again attempted to escape through the 
 exit; but Ketling raked them so dreadfully that he soon ob- 
 structed the entrance with a heap of bodies as high as a wall. 
 The survivors were doomed, for the besieged would not take 
 any prisoners, and so they began to defend themselves in 
 desperation. Strong men collected in little groups of two, 
 three, and five, and supporting each other back to back, armed 
 with darts, battle-axes, yatagans, and sabres, fought madly. 
 Their terror, despair, and the certainty of death were changed 
 into a feeling of fury. They were seized with the fever of 
 battle. Some in their rage rushed single-handed on the dra- 
 goons. These fell beneath the sabres in an instant. It was 
 a struggle between two opposing furies, for the dragoons, from 
 toil, sleeplessness and hunger, were possessed with the rage of 
 wild animals against a foe to whom they were superior in skill 
 in the use of cold steel; they therefore caused dreadful havoc. 
 
 To illuminate more fully the scene of strife, Ketling or- 
 dered tar-buckets to be lighted, and their blaze revealed un- 
 controllable Mazovians fighting with janissaries with sabres 
 and grasping them by the hair and beard. The savage Lusnia 
 in particular raged like a wild bull. At the other end Pan 
 Volodiyovski was fighting in person, and knowing that 
 Bashka was watching him from the walls, he outdid himself. 
 As a savage weasel breaks into grain where a swarm of mice 
 have taken up their abode and does fearful execution among 
 them, so the little knight rushed like a spirit of destruction 
 among the janissaries. His name was already familiar to the 
 besiegers, both from previous encounters and from the tales 
 of the Turks at Khotsim. The impression was general that 
 no man could meet him and escape death, so that many a 
 janissary, hemmed in between the bastions, seeing Pan 
 Michael suddenly before him, did not even defend himself, 
 31 
 
MICHAEL. 
 
 
 
 but shut his eyes and fell beneath the thrust of the little 
 knight's s\vord with the word "kismet" on his lips. At last 
 the resistance grew feeble and the remaining Turks rushed to 
 the rampart of bodies that blocked the entrance and were cut 
 to pieces there. 
 
 The dragoons then returned across the filled fosse singing, 
 yelling, and panting and reeking with blood; the castle and 
 Turkish trenches cannonaded each other for a time and then 
 were silent. Thus ended that artillery duel that had lasted 
 for several days, concluding with the assault of the janissaries. 
 
 "Praise be to God!" cried the little knight, "we shall have 
 rest till the morning 'kindya' at least, and in truth we are 
 entitled to it." 
 
 But it was only an apparent rest, for later in the night 
 they heard through the stillness the sound of mattocks stri- 
 king the stony wall. 
 
 "That is worse than artillery," said Ketling as he listened. 
 
 "Now would be the time to make a sortie," said the little 
 knight, but it is impossible, as the men are worn out. They 
 have not slept nor have they eaten; for, though they had food, 
 they had no time to take it. Moreover the enemy have some 
 thousands guarding the sappers to prevent opposition from 
 our side. There is nothing for it but to blow up the new castle 
 ourselves and retire into the old one." 
 
 "Not to-day," replied Ketling. "Look, the men have fallen 
 like sheaves of corn and are in a stony sleep. The dragoons 
 have not even wiped their sabres." 
 
 "Bashka, it is time to go home to sleep," said the little 
 knight. 
 
 "Very well Michael,'" answered Basia obediently, "'I will 
 do as you command. But the convent is shut up now; I would 
 rather stay and watch over your sleep." 
 
 "I think it very strange," said the little knight, "that sleep 
 has fled from me after such labor, and I have not the least 
 desire to rest my head." 
 
 "Because you excited your blood among the janissaries," 
 said Zagloba. "It was always so with me; I could never get 
 any sleep after a battle. But as for Bashka, why should she 
 drag herself to a shut gate? Let her stay here till the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 Basia embraced Zagloba in her delight, and the little 
 knight, seeing how anxious she was to stay, said: 
 
 "Let us go into the rooms." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 483 
 
 They went in, but everything was thick with dust raised 
 by the concussion of the cannon-balls against the walls, it 
 was impossible to stay there, so they went out again and set- 
 tled down in a niche where the old gate had been walled up. 
 
 Pan Michael reclined against the masonry and Basia nestled 
 up to him like a child against its mother. It was a warm and 
 sweet August night. The silver light of the moon illuminated 
 the niqhe and bathed their faces with its rays. Below, in the 
 courtyard of the castle, were groups of sleeping soldiers and 
 the bodies of those killed during the bombardment, as there 
 had been no time yet to bury them. The tranquil light of the 
 moon stole over those heaps as if that solitary of the sky 
 wanted to find out who was merely asleep from weariness and 
 who had fallen into eternal sleep. Farther away was outlined 
 the wall of the main castle \vhich cast a black shadow half 
 across the courtyard. Beyond the walls, human voices arose 
 from between the bastions where the sabred janissaries lay. 
 They were the camp-followers and those dragoons who pre- 
 ferred spoil to sleep and were stripping the corpses. Their 
 lanterns gleamed like glow-worms over the field of battle. 
 Some of them were calling to one another and one was softly 
 singing a sweet song, strangely at variance with the work iji 
 which he was engaged at that moment: 
 
 " Nothing is silver, nothing is gold to me now, 
 Nothing is fortune. 
 
 Then let me starve to death at the crooked fence, 
 If only beside thee ! " 
 
 But presently the movement decreased and at last ceased 
 entirely. A silence followed that was broken only by the 
 distant noise of the mattocks striking the rocks and the cries 
 of the sentries on the walls. That silence and moonlight and 
 quiet night soothed Pan Michael and Basia. A vague longing 
 stole into their hearts and a faint pleasant melancholy. Bashka 
 raised her eyes to her husband's face and, seeing that his eyes 
 were open, she said: 
 
 "Michael dear, you are not asleep ?" 
 
 "It is strange: I don't want to sleep." 
 
 "Is it pleasant for you here?" 
 
 "Quite pleasant. And you?" 
 
 Basia nodded her bright head. "Ah, Michael dear, so 
 pleasant! Ah, ah, ah! Didn't you hear what that man was 
 singing? Then she repeated the last words of the little song: 
 
 " Then let me starve to death at the crooked fendl, 
 If only beside thee. *. v ' " 
 
484 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 A moment's silence followed which was interrupted by the 
 little knight: 
 
 "Listen to me, Bashka." 
 
 "What, Michael dear?" 
 
 "To tell the truth we are marvellously happy in each other 
 and I think that if one of us were to fall the grief of the 
 other would be boundless." 
 
 Basia quite understood that when the little knight said "if 
 one of us were to fall," instead of die, he was only thinking 
 of himself. It occurred to her that perhaps he did not ex- 
 pect to survive that siege and wanted to accustom her mind 
 to such an end, so her heart was seized with a terrible pre- 
 sentiment and she clasped her hands and said: 
 
 "Michael dear, have pity on yourself and me!" 
 
 In somewhat moved though quiet tones the little knight 
 replied: 
 
 "But look, Bashka, you are wrong; for if you only think 
 about it, what is this temporal existence? Why should we 
 wrench our feelings about it? Who would be satisfied to 
 possess love and happiness here when everything snaps like 
 a dry twig, who?" 
 
 But Basia was shaken with weeping, and kept repeating: 
 
 "I will not! I will not! I will not!" 
 
 "As I love God, you are wrong," the little knight repeated. 
 "Look, think of it! above there, beyond that quiet moon is a 
 realm of everlasting bliss. Talk to me of that, Whosoever 
 reaches those fields will take breath for the first time as after 
 a long journey and feed in peace. When my time comes and 
 that is the business of a soldier you ought simply to say: 
 'That's nothing! Michael's gone. True, he has gone far 
 away, farther than Lithuania; but that's nothing, because I 
 shall follow him/ Bashka control yourself; do not weep. The 
 first to go will prepare quarters for the other; that's all/" 
 
 Here he seemed to obtain a vision of approaching event-; 
 for he raised his eyes to the moon and continued: 
 
 "What is this mortal life? Grant that I may be there first, 
 waiting for some one to knock at the Gate of Heaven. St. 
 Peter opens it! I look; who is it? My Bashka! Save us! Oh, 
 I shall leap then! Oh, T shall cry then! Dear God, words 
 fail me. And there will be no tears; nothing but endless joy; 
 and there will be no Infidels, nor cannon, nor mines under 
 walls, but only peace and happiness. Ah. Baslska, remember, 
 this life is nothing!" 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 485 
 
 "Dear Michael, dear Michael!" repeated Basia. 
 
 And again silence fell, interrupted only by the distant 
 monotonous sound of the mattocks. 
 
 "Bashka, let us say a Pater together," Volodiyovski said 
 at last 
 
 And those two souls, pure as their tears, began to pray. As 
 they repeated their Paters peace fell upon them both, and 
 then sleep mastered them and they slumbered till the first- 
 break of day. 
 
 Pan Volodiyovski led Basia away before the morning 
 "kindya" to the bridge connecting the city with the old cattle, 
 At parting he said: 
 
 "Remember, Bashka; it's nothing I" 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Immediately after the "kindya" the thunder of cannoB 
 ehook the castles and city. The Turks had dug a fosse be- 
 side the castle five hundred ells long. In one place they 
 were digging deep at the wall Itself. From their trench the 
 janissary muskets fired constantly at the walls. The be- 
 sieged made ramparts of leather bags stuffed with wool, but, 
 as missiles and grenades were continually cast from the 
 trenches, the bodies fell thickly around the guns. At one 
 gun, six of Volodiyovski's infantry were killed with one gren- 
 ade, and other gunners were constantly falling. Before even- 
 ing the chiefs saw that they could not hold out any longer, 
 especially as the mines might be exploded at any moment. 
 Therefore, during the night, the captains led out their men, 
 and before the morning, in the midst of ceaseless firing, they 
 had transferred all the guns, powder, and provisions to the 
 old castle. They could hold out longer there, as it was built 
 on a rock, and it was particularly difficult to undermine it. 
 When Pan Michael was consulted about the matter at the 
 council of war he stated that he was ready to defend it for 
 a year if no one would enter into negotiations. His words 
 spread to the city, and greatly relieved all hearts, for the 
 people knew that the little knight would keep his word, even 
 at the cost of his own life. 
 
 When the new castle was evacuated powerful 'mines were 
 placed along the front and both bastions. These exploded 
 about noon with a tremendous noise, but caused no serious 
 loss to the Turks, for, remembering yesterday's lesson, they 
 had not yet ventured to occupy the abandoned place. But 
 both bastions and the front and main body of the new castle 
 formed one enormous mass of ruins. It is true that these 
 ruins made it difficult to approach the old castle, but they 
 afforded perfect cover to sharpshooters, and what is worse, 
 to the miners, who, not at all daunted at the sight of the 
 mighty cliff, began to bore a fresh mine. This work was 
 supervised by skillful Italian and Hungarian engineers in 
 (486) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 4 Sy 
 
 the. service of the Sultan, and it made rapid headway. The 
 bpyiogod could not hit the enemy with either cannon <r 
 musket, as they were invisible. Pan Michael was thinking of 
 a sortie, but could not immediately undertake it as his sol- 
 diers were too weary. Blue lumps as large as loaves of bread 
 had formed on the dragoons' right shoulders from the con- 
 stant lecoil of the butts of their guns. Some could scarcely 
 move their arms. It was plain that, if the boring should 
 continue for any length of time without check, the main 
 gate of the castle would be blown into the air without fail. 
 Foreseeing this, Pan Volodiyovski gave orders to have a high 
 wall built inside the gate, and said without losing courage: 
 
 "What do I care? if the gate is blown up, we will defend 
 ourselves behind the wall; if the wall is blown up, we will 
 have a second one made beforehand, and so on, as long as 
 we have an ell of ground under our feet." 
 
 "But when the ell is gone?" 
 
 "Then we shall be gone too," answered the little knight. 
 
 In the meantime, he ordered hand-grenades to be thrown 
 at the enemy, which caused considerable damage. The most 
 effective man at this work was Lieutenant Dembinski, who 
 killed innumerable Turks until a grenade, which he had 
 ignited too soon, burst in his hand and tore it off. Captain 
 Shmit perished in the same way. Many fell by the artillery, 
 and many by musket-shots from the janissaries concealed 
 in the ruins of the new castle. During this time they rarely 
 fired the castle guns, and this considerably disturbed the 
 council. "They are not firing, so it is evident that Volodi- 
 yovski himself has doubts about the defence." This was the 
 general opinion; none of the military dared to be the first 
 to say that the only thing left was to obtain the best con- 
 ditions, but the Bishop, who had no knightly ambition, said 
 so openly; but first, Pan Vasilokovski was sent to the General 
 for news from the castle. He answered: "It is my opinion 
 that the castle cannot hold out till evening, but here they 
 think otherwise." 
 
 On reading this reply, even the officers began to say: 
 
 "We have done what we could, no one has spared himself, 
 but what is impossible, is impossible. We must think of con- 
 ditions." 
 
 These words reached the city and a great multitude of 
 people assembled in consequence. They thronged in front 
 of the town hall, alarmed, silent, and hostile, rather than 
 
488 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 inclined to negotiate. Some rich Armenian merchants were 
 secretly glad that the siege would come to an end and trade 
 begin again, but other Armenians who had long been settled 
 in the Commonwealth were very favorable towards it; in ad- 
 dition to them, the Poles and Russians wanted to defend 
 themselves. "If we wanted to surrender, we ought to have 
 done so at first/' it was whispered here and there; we couldn't 
 have obtained much, but now there will be no favorable con- 
 ditions and it would be better to bury ourselves beneath the 
 ruins." 
 
 The murmurs of discontent grew louder and louder, till 
 suddenly they changed into enthusiastic shouts and cheers. 
 
 What had happened? On the square Pan Volodiyovski 
 had appeared with Pan Humyetski; as the general had sent 
 them for the purpose of making a report of what had hap- 
 pened in the castle. The crowd was seized with enlmsiasm. 
 Some shouted as though the Turks had already burst into 
 the town, while tears came into the eyes of others at the 
 sight of that idolized knight, whose appearance showed his 
 great exertions. His face was black with the smoke of the 
 powder, and haggard; his eyes were red and sunken, but he 
 had a joyous expression. When he and Humyetski had made 
 their way through the crowd and entered the council, they 
 also received a joyful greeting there. The Bishop spoke at 
 once. 
 
 "Beloved brothers, he said, "Nee Hercules contra plurcs, 
 the general has already written that you must surrender/' 
 
 At this, Humyetski, who was very impulsive and of noble 
 family, and didn't care for anyone, cried sharply: 
 
 "The general has lost his head, but at least he has this 
 virtue, that he exposes it to danger. As for the defence, I 
 leave that for Pan Volodiyovski to describe, as he is better 
 able." 
 
 The eyes of all were turned on the little knight, who 
 twisted his yellow moustache and said: 
 
 "For Heaven's sake! who talks about surrendering? have 
 we not sworn to the living God, to fall one above the other?" 
 
 "We have sworn to do all that is in our power, and we 
 have done that/' replied the Bishop. 
 
 "Let every man answer for what he has promised. Ivet- 
 ling and I have vowed not to surrender the castle until 
 death, and we will not surrender, for if I am bound to keep 
 the word of a knight to every man, what must I do t<r God, 
 who is above all in majesty?" 
 
1>AX ^IC HA EL. 
 
 "But how is it with the castle? We 'have heard that there 
 is a mine under the gate, can you hold out long?" cried many 
 voices? 
 
 "There is, or will be a mine under the gate, but behind 
 the gate there is a good wall, and I have ordered falconets 
 to be mounted on it. Dear brothers, fear the wounds of God; 
 remember that by surrendering you will be forced to give up 
 churches into the hands of Infidels, who will convert them 
 into mosques to celebrate bawdy discourses in them. How 
 can you mention surrender with such a light heart? With 
 what conscience can you think of opening a gate into the 
 heart of the country to the foe? I am in the castle, and have 
 no fear of mines, ^and you, far away here in the city, are 
 afraid. By the dear Lord, we will not surrender while we 
 live. Let the memory of this defence remain with those who 
 come after us, like the memory of Zbaraj." 
 
 "The Turks will reduce the castle to a heap of ruins," cried 
 a voice. 
 
 "Let them, we can defend ourselves from a heap of ruins." 
 
 Here the little knight somewhat lost patience. 
 
 "And I will defend myself from a heap of ruins, so help 
 me God. Finally, I tell you, that I will not surrender the 
 castle. Do you hear?" 
 
 "But will you destroy the town?" asked the Bishop 
 
 "If opposing the Turks will destroy it, I would rather 
 destroy it. I have taken my oath, I will not waste any more 
 words, I will return to the guns for they defend the Com- 
 monwealth instead of betraying it." 
 
 Then he departed, followed by Humyetski who slammed 
 the door. They both hurried away, for they really felt hap- 
 pier amid ruins, corpses, and shot, than among men of weak 
 faith. Pan Makovyetska overtook them on the way and said: 
 
 "Michael, tell the truth, did you talk of resistance only 
 to strengthen their courage, or will you really be able to hold 
 out in the castle?" 
 
 The little knight shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "As God is dear to me, if only the city will not surrender 
 I will defend the castle for a year." 
 
 "Why don't you fire the guns, that's why people are alarmed 
 and talk about surrendering?" 
 
 "We don't fire them because we are busy with the hand- 
 grenades, which have done considerable injury to the mines." 
 
 "Listen, Michael, have you sufficient force in the castle to 
 
49 MICHAEL. 
 
 support the Russian gate from the rear? for if the Turks 
 break in, which God prevent,, they will reach the gate. I am 
 keeping watch with my whole force, but with only the towns- 
 people and without soldiers I don't know what to do/' 
 
 "Then the little knight answered: "Do not fear, dear 
 brother, I have fifteen guns trained on it. Make your mind 
 easy also about the castle. Not only will we defend our- 
 selves, but we will reinforce you at the gates when it is ne- 
 cessary." 
 
 When he heard that, Makovyetska was greatly delighted, 
 and wanted to depart, but the little knight detained him, 
 and inquired further: 
 
 "Tell me, you are oftener at the council, do they only 
 want to try us, or do they really intend delivering Kamenets 
 into the hands of the Sultan?" 
 
 Makovyetska bowed his head. 
 
 "Michael," he said, "tell the truth now, must it not end 
 in that? We shall resist for a time yet, one week, two, a 
 month, two months; but it will be the same in the end/ ? 
 
 Volodiyovski looked gloomily at him, then he raised his 
 hands and cried, 
 
 "And than too, Brutus, against me! Well, in that case, 
 you will have to enjoy your shame alone. To such diet 1 am 
 not accustomed." 
 
 And they parted with bitterness in their hearts. 
 
 The mine under the chief gate of the old castle exploded 
 soon after Pan Volodiyovski's return. Bricks and stones 
 were scattered abroad and dust and smoke arose. The gun- 
 ners' hearts were overcome with terror. For some time the 
 Turks rushed into the breach as sheep rush through the 
 open gate of a sheepfold, when the shepherd and his assist- 
 ants drive them in with whips. But Ketling breathed on 
 the mass with the charges of six guns previously prepared 
 on the wall; he breathed once, twice, thrice and swept them 
 out of the court. Volodiyovski, Humyetski, and Myslishev- 
 ski, hurried up with infantry and dragoons and covered the 
 walls as rapidly as flies on a sultry day cover the carcass of 
 a horse or ox. Then a duel began between the muskets and 
 janissary guns. Balls fell on the wall like rain, or like the 
 grains of wheat cast from the shovel of a sturdy peasant. 
 The Turks were swarming among the ruins of the new castle, 
 they sat in twos, threes, fives, and tens, in every hollow, be- 
 hind every fragment, behind every stone, and in every gap 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 49 r 
 
 in the ruins, and fired without a moment's pause. Fresh 
 reinforcements constantly arrived from the direction of 
 Khotsim. Regiment followed regiment, crouched among the 
 ruins, and immediately began to fire. The new castle seemed 
 to be paved with turbans. From time to time, these masses 
 of turbans suddenly* sprang up with frightful yells and sprang 
 to the breach; and then Ketling's voice was raised and the 
 bass of the cannon drowned the rattle of musketry and a 
 storm of grape-shot with a whistling and dreadful rattling 
 threw the mass into confusion, laid them out" on the earth, 
 and choked the breach with a quivering heap of human flesh. 
 Four times the janissaries sprang to the assault and four 
 times Ketling hurled them back, and scattered them as a 
 storm scatters a cloud of leaves. Alone, amidst the fire, 
 smoke, showers of earth, and exploding grenades, he seemed 
 and angel of war. His eyes were fixed on the breach and not 
 the slightest anxiety was visible on his calm brow. Now and 
 then he would seize the lintstock from the gunner and touch 
 the priming. Sometimes he would cover his eyes with his 
 hand to watch the effect of the shot; sometimes he would 
 turn with a smile to the Polish officers and say: 
 
 "They cannot enter." 
 
 Never was the rage of assault repulsed with such fur} r of 
 resistance. The officers and men emulated each other. It 
 seemed that these men's attention was directed to every- 
 thing but death, and death mowed them down quickly. Pan 
 Humyetski fell and so did Pan Mokoshytski, the commander 
 of the men of Kiev. At length the white-haired Pan Kal- 
 ushovski put his hand to his breast with a groan; he was 
 an old friend of Pan Michael's, as 'gentle as a lamb, but" as 
 terrible a soldier as a lion. Pan Michael caught the falling 
 man who crieo 1 , "Give me your hand, give me your hand 
 quickly;'' then he added, "Praise be to God!" and his face 
 grew as white as his beard a-nd moustache. That was before 
 the fourth attack. A body of janissaries had entered the 
 breach, or rather they could not leave it, because of the too 
 dense cloud of missiles. Pan Michael sprang upon them at 
 the head of his infantry, and they were struck down in a 
 moment with the stocks of the muskets. 
 
 Hour followed hour, and the fire did not slacken; but in 
 the meantime, tidings of the heroic defence spread through 
 the town, exciting emlnisia-'m and martial ardor. The Polish 
 inhabitants, particularly the young men, began to call on 
 
49 2 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 one another, and gaze at one another, and mutually encourage 
 each other. "Let us carry aid to the castle, let us go, let us 
 go. We will not allow our brothers to perish. Come boys!" 
 This kind of exclamation was heard on the square and at 
 the gates, and soon a few hundred men, variously armed, but 
 with courage in their hearts, advanced towards the bridge. 
 The Turks directed a terrible fire on the young men, and 
 stretched many of them in death, but some of them crossed 
 and began to work on the walls with great zeal against the 
 Turks. 
 
 The fourth attack of the Turks was repulsed with terrible 
 loss and it seemed that a moment of rest must come. Vain 
 hope! The rattle of the janissary musketry was kept up till 
 evening. Not till the evening kindya was played did the 
 guns become silent and the Turks leave the ruins of the 
 new castle. The surviving officers then went outside the 
 wall. The little knight, without a moment's pause, ordered 
 the breach to be filled up with whatever materials could be 
 found, such as blocks of timber, fascines, earth, and rub- 
 bish. Infantry, retinue, dragoons, rank and file, all vied 
 with each other, regardless of rank. The Turkish guns were 
 expected to begin firing again at any moment, but that was 
 a day of great triumph for the besieged over the besiegers. 
 All their faces were aglow and their hearts flamed with hope 
 and the desire for further victory. 
 
 Ketling and Pan Michael, grasping one another's hand 
 after their toil, went the round of the square and the walls, 
 leaned out through the embrasures to look at the court-yard 
 of the new castle, and rejoiced at the bountiful harvest. 
 
 '"Corpses lie there beside corpses," said the little knight 
 pointing to the ruins, "and there are such heaps at the breach 
 that you would require a ladder to cross them. Ketling, 
 that is the work of your cannon." 
 
 "The best thing is," answered Ketling, "that we have re- 
 paired the breach. The approach is closed to the Turks and 
 they must make a new mine; their force is as boundless as 
 the sea, but a siege of this kind for a month or two must 
 disgust them in time." 
 
 "By that time the Hetman will aid us. But come what 
 may, you and I are bound by our oaths," said the little 
 knight. 
 
 At that moment, they gazed into one another's eyes and 
 Pan Michael asked in lower tones: 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 493 
 
 "Have you done what I told you?" 
 
 "All is ready/' replied Ketling in -a whisper, "but I do not 
 think it will come to that, for we may hold out here for a 
 lo-ng time and have many such days as this. 
 
 "God grant us such a morrow." 
 
 "Amen!" added Ketling as he raised his eyes to Heaven. 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the thunder of 
 cannon. Bombs began 'again to fly against the castle. How- 
 ever, many of them burst in the air and died away like sum- 
 mer lightning. 
 
 Ketling watched them with the eye of an expert and said: 
 "In that trench yonder, from which they are firing, the 
 fuses of the grenades have too much sulphur." 
 
 "Other trenches are beginning to smoke," said Volodi- 
 yovski. 
 
 In fact they were. As, when one dog barks in the middle 
 of a quiet night, others begin to accompany it, till at last, 
 the entire village is filled with the noise, so one cannon in 
 the Turkish trenches aroused all the neighboring ones, and 
 the besieged place was surrounded with a crown of grenades. 
 Now, however, the enemy was firing at the city, not at the 
 castle. But mining was heard going on on three sides. 
 Though the mighty rock had almost rendered the efforts of 
 the miners of no avail, it was clear that the Turks had de- 
 termined at all costs to blow that rocky nest into the air. 
 
 By the orders of Ketling and Pan Volodiyovski, the de- 
 fenders again began to throw hand-grenades, guided by the 
 sound of the mattocks. But at night it was impossible to 
 see whether this means of defence effected any damage. 
 The eyes and attention of all were directed to the city, against 
 which whole showers of flaming grenades were flying. Some 
 of them burst in the air, but others described a fiery arc in 
 the sky, and fell on the roofs of houses. Immediately a blood- 
 red glare pierced the darkness in several places. The church 
 of St. Catherine was burning, as well as the church of St. 
 George in the Russian quarter, and soon the Armenian 
 cathedral was in flames. But the latter had already been 
 set on fire during the day, and now it merely caught fire 
 again from the grenades. The conflagration momentarily 
 increased and illumined the whole neighborhood. The din 
 from the city penetrated to the old castle. It might bave 
 been imagined that the whole city was in flames. 
 
 "That's bad," cried Ketling, "for it will weaken the cour- 
 age of the inhabitants." 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Let everything burn, said the little knight, "so that only 
 the rock is not destroyed, from which we may defend our- 
 selves." 
 
 Now the noise increased. The fire extended from the 
 cathedral to the Armenian warehouses of costly merchandise. 
 The latter were built on the square belonging to that people; 
 great wealth was being consumed there in gold, silver, divans, 
 furs, and sumptuous fabrics. Presently, tongues of fire ap- 
 peared above the houses here and there. 
 
 Volodiyovski was greatly disturbed. 
 
 "Ketling," he said, "see to the throwing of the grenades 
 and do as much damage as possible to the mining. I will 
 hasten to the town for my heart is grieved for the Dominican 
 nuns. Praise be to God that the Turks are leaving the castle 
 in peace, so that I can be absent." 
 
 In fact, just then there was not much to do in the castle, 
 so the little knight mounted his horse and rode away. Not 
 till two hours later did he return, accompanied by Pan Mus- 
 halski, who recovered from the hurt received at the hand of 
 Hamdi-Bey and now came to the castle with the thought 
 that, during the assaults, with his bow he might inflict great 
 loss on the Infidels and gain boundless glory. 
 
 'Welcome," said Ketling, "I was alarmed. How is it with 
 the nuns?" 
 
 "All is well," replied the little knight, "not a single shell 
 has burst there. The place is very quiet and safe." 
 
 "Thank God for that ! But Krysia is not alarmed?" 
 
 "She is as quiet as if in her own home. She and Bashka 
 are in the same cell, and Pan Zagloba is with them. Pan 
 Novovyeyski, who has recovered consciousness, is also there. 
 He begged to come to the castle with me, but he cannot yet 
 stand on his feet for long. Go there now, Ketling, while I 
 take your place here/" 
 
 Ketling embraced Pan Michael, as his heart drew him 
 strongly to Krysia; and he ordered his horse to be brought at 
 once. But before it came, he asked the little knight what 
 tidings he had from the city. 
 
 "The inhabitants are extinguishing the flames with great 
 bravery." the little knight answered, "but when the more 
 wealthy Armenian merchants saw their merchandise burning 
 they sent deputations to the Bishop insisting on a surrender. 
 When I heard that, I went to the council, though I had prom- 
 ised myself not to go there again. I struck that man's face 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 who insisted most strongly on surrendering, and therefore, 
 the Bishop rose against me in wrath. The situation is evil, 
 brother, people are becoming more and more cowardly, and 
 our readiness for the defence seems to them of little import. 
 They blarue but do not praise, saying that we are vainly ex- 
 posing the place. I also h.eard that Makovyetska was at- 
 tacked because he opposed negotiations. The Bishop himself 
 said to him, 'We are deserting neither our faith nor our king, 
 but what is the good of further resistance? See!' he said, 
 'what will result from it shrines desecrated, honorable ladies 
 insulted, and innocent children dragged into captivity. With 
 a treaty/ he said, 'we can assure their fate and gaia a free 
 evacuation/ Thus spoke the Bishop, but the general nodded 
 and said. 'I would sooner perish, but that is true!" 1 
 
 "God's will be done!" said Ketling. 
 
 But Pan Michael wrung his hands. 
 
 "Even if that were true," he cried, "but God is witness 
 that we can still defend ourselves." 
 
 Meanwhile the horse was brought; Ketling mounted hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 "Cross the bridge warily," said Pan Michael on the way, 
 "for the grenades are falling thickly there." 
 
 "I shall be back in an hour," said Ketling, as he rode 
 away. 
 
 Volodiyovski started to make the round of the walls with 
 Mushalski. 
 
 In three places where the hammering was heard hand 
 grenades were thrown. Lusnia was directing this work to 
 the left of the castle. 
 
 "Well, how goes it there?' asked Volodiyovski. 
 
 "Badly, Pan Commandant!" replied the seargant. "The 
 dog-bloods are sitting in the cliff and only occasionally at 
 the entrance is a man hurt by a fragment of shell. We 
 haven't done much. . . ." 
 
 Elsewhere the case was even worse, especially as the sky 
 had darkened and rain was falling, which damped the fuses 
 of the grenades. The work was also impeded by the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 Pan Michael drew Mushalki a little aside and suddenly 
 halted and said, 
 
 "Listen, suppose we try to suffocate these moles in their 
 burrows!" 
 
 "To me it looks like certain death for they are guarded 
 by whole regiments of janissaries. But let us try!" 
 
PAN MICHAJEL. 
 
 "It is true that they are guarded by regiments; but it is 
 a very dark night, and they are quickly cast into confusion. 
 Just think! they are talking of surrendering the town. 
 Yv 7 hy? Because they tell us, 'There are mines under you; you 
 are not defending yourselves/ We should silence them, if 
 to-night we could send the tidings, "The mine no longer 
 exists!' Is it worth while laying down one's head in such a 
 cause, or not?" 
 
 Pan Mushalski reflected for a moment and cried: 
 
 "It is worth while! It is, as God lives!" 
 
 "A little while ago they began to mine in that spot," said 
 Pan Yolodiyovski; "those we will leave unmolested, but 
 here and on this side they have bored deep into the rock. You 
 take fifty dragoons and I will take the same number and we 
 will try to suffocate them. Are you willing?" 
 
 "I am, more so every moment. I will take some spikes 
 in my belt for the cannon; perhaps I niay be able to spike 
 some of those falconets on the way." 
 
 "As for spiking, I doubt it, though there are some fal- 
 conets standing near; but take them. We will only wait for 
 Ketling; he knows how to render aid in a sudden emergency 
 better than others." 
 
 Ketling returned as he had promised; he was not a moment 
 late. Half an hour later two detachments of fifty dragoons 
 each went to the breach, slipped quietly out on the other side 
 and disappeared in the darkness. Ketling ordered grenades 
 to be thrown fcr a little while only and then he ceased and 
 waited. His heart beat anxiously for he well knew what 
 a bold undertaking it WPS. A quarter of an hour went by, 
 half an hour, an hour; it seemed that they should be there 
 already and begin; in the meantime he laid his ear to the 
 ground and could clearly distinguish the dull sound of the 
 mattocks. 
 
 Suddenly at the left base of the castle there was a pistol- 
 shot which did not make too loud a report on the damp air 
 on account of the firing from the trenches; and might have 
 passed without attracting the attention of the garrison but 
 for the terrible din that followed it. "They are there," 
 thought Ketling, "but will the}^ return?" And then arose 
 the shouts of the men, the roll of drums, the shrill sound of 
 pipes, and lastly the rattle of musketry, but hurried and 
 desultory. The Turks were firing in crowds from all sides; 
 it was evident that whole divisions had hastened to the as- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 497 
 
 sistance of the sappers. But as Pan Michael had anticipated, 
 the janissaries were thrown into disorder and confusion; 
 they were afraid of hitting one another and so uttered loud 
 shouts and fired at random, and often in the air. The noise 
 and firing increased momentarily. When weasels, thirsting 
 for blood, break at night into a sleeping poultry shed the 
 quiet building is soon filled with noise and cackling: a similar 
 uproar suddenly arose around the castle. From the earth- 
 works they began to throw grenades at the walls to illuminate 
 the scene. Ketling trained his guns on the Turkish troops 
 on guard and replied with grape-shot. The Turkish ap- 
 proaches and the walls blazed in turn. The alarm was 
 beaten in the city for everybody thought that the enemy 
 bad burst into the fortress. In the earthworks the Turks 
 thought that a strong sortie was making a simultaneous at- 
 tack on all their trenches and they were thrown into a gen- 
 eral panic. Night favored the desperate undertaking of Pan 
 Volodiyovski and Pan Mushalski as it had become very dark. 
 The dischages of cannon and grenades pierced the darkness 
 only momentarily and left it blacker than before. Lastly, 
 the sluices of Heaven were suddenly opened and torrents of 
 rain poured down. Thunder outroared the guns, rolling, 
 muttering, howling, and rousing dreadful echoes among the 
 cliffs. Ketling sprang from the wall at the head of several 
 men and ran to the breach and waited. 
 
 But he did not wait long. Dark forms soon came throng- 
 ing in-between the timbers that barred the opening. 
 
 "Who goes there?" cried Ketling. 
 
 "Volodiyovski,' was the reply. And the two knights fell 
 into each other's arms. 
 
 "Well, how goes it there ?" asked the officers, as they rushed 
 out to the breach. 
 
 "God be praised! the sappers are slain to the last man 
 and their tools arebroken and scattered. Their labor is fruit- 
 less." 
 
 "God be praised! God be praised!" 
 
 "But is Mushalski with his men?" 
 
 "lie has not arrived yet." 
 
 "We might go to his aid. Gracious gentlemen, who will 
 volunteer?" 
 
 I Jut at that moment the breach was again filled. Mushal- 
 nki's men were hastily returning greatly reduced in number 
 for many had fallen \inder the bullets. But they returned 
 
498 PAN M/CJtAEL. 
 
 elated for they had been equal!)- successful. Some of the 
 soldiers had brought back mattocks, drills, and pickaxes as 
 a proof that they had been into the mine itself. 
 ''But where is Mushalski?" inquired Pan Michael. 
 'True, where is Pan Mushalski?" repeated several voices. 
 The men unde-r the command of the famous archer began 
 to look at one another; at length a dragoon who was severely 
 wounded said in faint tones: 
 
 "Pan Mushalski has fallen. I saw him when he fell. I 
 fell beside him, but I rose, and he remained. . . " 
 
 The knights were deeply grieved to hear of the famous 
 archer s death, for he was one of the foremost cavaliers in 
 I? 6 C orcefl of the Commonwealth. They again questioned 
 the dragoon as to how it had happened but he was unable to 
 reply for blood was streaming from his wounds and he fell 
 to the earth like a sheaf of corn. 
 
 The knights began to lament over Pan Mushalski. 
 
 The army will cherish his memory/' said Pan Kvasibrod- 
 ski, and whoever survives the siege will extoll his name." 
 There will never be such another archer," cried a voice. 
 'He had a stronger arm than any man in Khreptyov" 
 said the little knight. "With his fingers he could press a 
 dollar into a new board. Pan Podbiyenta, the Lithuanian 
 alone surpassed him in strength; but Podbiyenta was slain at 
 Zbaraj, and no living man has such strong hands except per- 
 haps Pan Novovyeyski." 
 
 "A great loss, a great loss!" exclaimed others. "Suoh cava- 
 liers were only born in old days." 
 
 Honoring the memory of the archer in this manner they 
 scaled the wall. Pan Michael immediately despatched a mes 
 senger to the general with tidings that the mines were de 
 stroyed and the miners slain by a sortie. This intelligence 
 was received in the city with great astonishment, but also, 
 who would have imagined it! with secret annoyance The 
 - general and the bishop did not believe that these passing 
 successes would save the city, but only rouse the terrible lion 
 .1 more. They could be advantageous only in case of an 
 agreement to surrender in spite of them; so the two principal 
 leaders determined to carry on further negotiations. 
 
 But neither Pan Volodiyovski nor Ketling imagined for 
 a moment that the happy tidings would produce such an 
 Bttect. On the contrary, they felt sure that the faintest heart 
 would gain courage and that all would burn with the desire 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 for a furious resistance. It was impossible to take the city 
 without first taking the castle and so if the castle not merely 
 resisted but kept on thundering the besieged had not the 
 least necessity to enter into negotiations. There was abund- 
 ance of provisions and ammunition and therefore all that 
 was necessary was to watch the gates and extinguish the fires 
 in the city. 
 
 During the entire siege this was the most joyful night 
 for Pan Michael and Ketling. They had never been so hope- 
 ful of issuing alive from those Turkish toils and bringing 
 those beloved heads out in safety. 
 
 "A couple more assaults/ said the little knight, "and as 
 God is in Heaven, the Turks will be sick of them and will 
 rather try to starve us out. And we have sufficient supplies 
 here. September is approaching and rain and cold will 
 commence in two months. T^ose troops are not very hardy; 
 let them once get well chilled and they will retire. 
 
 "Many of them are from the lands of Ethiopia," said 
 Ketling, "or from various peaces where pepper grows and 
 any frost will nip them. At the worst we can hold out for 
 two months; even under assaults. Moreover it is impossible 
 to imagine that no aid will be sent to us. The Common- 
 wealth will finally awaken and even if the Hetman should 
 not be able to assemble a large force he can still annoy the 
 Turks with attacks." 
 
 "Ketling, it appears to me that our last hour has not struck 
 yet." 
 
 "It is in God's hands, but it also appears to me that it 
 will not come to that." 
 
 "Even though someone has fallen, like Pan Mushalski. 
 Well, it can't be helped! I am dreadfully grieved about Mu- 
 shalski, though he died a cavalier's death." 
 
 "God grant us no worse one, if only deferred ! for I confess 
 to you, Michael, I should be sorry for. . . . Krysia." 
 
 "Yes, and I ... for Basia; we will work earnestly and 
 perhaps there is mercy above us. For some reason I am 
 very light-hearted. We must do something noteworthy to- 
 morrow as well!" 
 
 "The Turks have used boards for protection. I have 
 thought of a method used in setting fire to ships; the rags 
 are now steeping in tar so that by noon to-morrow we will 
 burn all those works.' 
 
 "Ah," cried the little knight, "then I will head * sortie, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 During the conflagration there will be much confusion in 
 any case and it would never occur to them that we would 
 make a sortie during daylight. To-morow may be better 
 than to-day, Ketling." 
 
 They talked thus with sanguine hearts and then went to 
 rest as they were very weary. But the little knight had not 
 slept for three hours, when he was roused by Lusnia. 
 
 "Pan Commander, we have news." 
 
 "What is it?" cried the vigilant soldier springing up im- 
 mediately. 
 
 "Pan Mushalski is here." 
 
 "For God's sake! What are you telling me?" 
 
 "He is here. I was standing at the breach and heard some- 
 body on the other side calling in Polish, 'Do not fire, it is I/ 
 I looked, and there was Pan Mushalski, returning in the 
 clothes of a janissary." 
 
 "God be praised!" cried the little knight as he sprang to 
 greet the archer. Dawn was already breaking. Pan Mushal- 
 eki was standing outside the wall in a white cap and mail, 
 looking so exactly like a genuine janissary as to make one 
 doubt one's own eyes. When he saw the little knight, he 
 hurried up -to him, and began io give him joyful greeting. 
 
 "We have already mourned over you," cried Volodiyovski. 
 
 Then several other officers with Ketling among them ran 
 up. They were all indescribably astonished, and interrupted 
 each other with questions as to how he came to be in a Turk- 
 ish disguise. 
 
 "On my way back I tripped against the body of a janissary 
 and struck my head against a cannon ball and though I 
 wore a cap bound with wire I was stunned. My head is 
 still tender and susceptible to the slightest injury after 
 that blow that I received from Hamdi-Bey. When I 
 recovered consciousness I was lying on a dead janissary 
 like a bed. I felt my head; it was rather painful, 
 but there was not even a lump on it. I took off my 
 cap and the rain cooled my head as I reflected: This is 
 lucky far me. It struck me that it would be a good idea to 
 take that janissary's uniform and take a stroll among the 
 Turks. I speak their language as well as I do Polish and 
 no one could detect me by my speech and my face is not 
 unlike that of a janissary I will go and listen to what they 
 eay.' At intervals I was afraid when I remembered my for- 
 jner captivity; but I proceeded. It was a dark night with only. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 5OI 
 
 an occasional light. I tell you, gentlemen., I went about 
 among them as if they had been my own men. Many of 
 them were lying under cover in the trenches; I approached 
 them. One would ask, 'Why are you wandering about?' 'Be- 
 cause I cannot sleep/ I answered. Others were sitting in 
 groups talking about the siege. There is great consternation 
 among them. With my own ears I heard how they com- 
 plained of our Khreptyov commander here present/ here 
 Pan Mushalski bowed to Volodiyovski. I repeat their very 
 words because the blame of an enemy is the highest praise. 
 'While that little dog/ they said, thus did the dog-brothers 
 designate your grace! 'while that little dog defends the 
 castle we shall not capture it.' Others said, "Bullets and iron 
 will not harm him, but from him Death blows like a pesti- 
 lence/ Then the whole group would begin to complain: 'We 
 alone do the fighting while the other troops are doing noth- 
 ing; the other troops are lying with their bellies to the sky. 
 The Tartars are plundering; the spahis are strolling about 
 the bazaars. The Padishah says to us, 'My dear lambs/ but 
 it is evident the we are not so very dear to him since he 
 sends us her to the shambles. We will not stand it long, 
 but will go back to Khotsim, and if they try to prevent us it 
 may end in the fall of some lofty heads/ ' ; 
 
 "Do you hear, gentlemen?" cried Volodiyovski, "when the 
 janissaries mutiny the Sultan will be frightened and raise 
 the siege." 
 
 "As God is dear to me I am telling the simple truth," said 
 Mushalski. "It is easy for the janissaries to rebel and they 
 are greatly disatisfied. I think they will attempt one or two 
 more assaults and then gnash their teeth at their aga, at the 
 kaimakan, and even at the Sultan himself." 
 
 "So it will be," cried the officers. 
 
 "Let them attempt twenty assaults; we are prepared," cried 
 others. 
 
 They clattered their sabres and looked at the trenches with 
 blood-shot eyes and drew deep breaths; as he heard it the 
 little knight whispered to Ketling: 
 
 "Another Zbaraj! Another Zbaraj!" 
 
 But Pan Mushalski again commenced: "I have told you 
 all that I heard. I was sorry to leave them as I might have 
 learned more but I was afraid to be caught by the dawn. 
 I next went to the trenches where there was no firing so as 
 to slip past in the dark. I look and see no regular sentries, 
 
502 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 only groups of janissaries wandering all about. I approach 
 a frowning gun and nothing is said. You know I took 
 spikes for the guns. I push a spike quickly into the touch- 
 hole; it won't go in, it needs the blow of a hammer. But 
 since the Lord God endowed my hand with some strength 
 (more than once you have witnessed my performances) I 
 press the spike; it grates slightly but goes in up to the head. 
 . . . I was glad beyond measure." 
 
 "As God lives! did you do- that? Did you spike the big 
 gun?" asked many voices. 
 
 "I spiked that one and another, for the business went so 
 favorably that I was loth sorry to leave it and so I went to 
 another gun. My hand is somewhat sore but the spike went 
 in." 
 
 "Gracious gentlemen, cried Volodiyovski, "no one present 
 has done greater things; no one has covered 'himself with such 
 glory. Vivat Pan Mushalski!" 
 
 "Vivat! vivat!" cried the officers. 
 
 After the officers the soldiers began to shout. The noise 
 was heard in the Turkish trenches and alarmed them and 
 dispirited them still more. But the overjoyed archer bowed 
 to the officers and exhibited his mighty palm which resembled 
 a shovel; there were two blue marks on it. 
 
 "As true as God lives! here is the witness," he said. 
 
 "We believe!' cried everybody. "God be praised that you 
 returned in safety!" 
 
 "I passed the boarding and wanted to burn that work, but 
 had nothing to do it with." 
 
 "Michael," cried Ketling, "do you know that my rags are 
 ready? I am beginning to think about that boarding. Let 
 us show them that we are foremost in the attack." 
 
 "Begin! begin!" cried Pan Michael. 
 
 He himself ran to the arsenal and sent fresh tidings to 
 I the city : 
 
 "Pan Mushalski was not killed in the sortie; for he has re- 
 turned after spiking two heavy guns. He went among the 
 janissaries who are thinking of mutinying. In an hour we 
 sihall burn their woodworks and if at the same time it is pos- 
 sible to make a sortie I shall do so." 
 
 The messenger had scarcely crossed the bridge before the 
 walls were trembling with the roar of guns. This time the 
 castle commenced the thundering dialogue. In the pale light 
 of dawn the blazing rags flew like flaming banners and Jell 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 503 
 
 on the timber. The night rain that had wetted it was of 
 no avail. The timbers soon caught fire and blazed. Ketling 
 followed up the rags with grenades. The weary throngs of 
 janissaries evacuated the earthworks in the first few moment?. 
 They did not play the "kindya." The vizir himself appeared 
 at the head of fresh legions, but doubt had evidently stolen 
 into his 'heart, for the pashas heard him muttering: 
 
 "To those men battle is sweeter than rest. What kind of 
 people dwell in that castle?" 
 
 Throughout the army terrified voices were heard exclaim- 
 ing: 
 
 "The little dog is begining to bite! The little dog is b*- 
 gining to bite!" 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 When that happy night, so full of omens of victory, 
 August 26th followed, that day which became the most im- 
 portant in the annals of that war. In the castle some great 
 effort was expected on the side of the Turks. In fact, about 
 dawn the mattocks were heard striking on the left of the 
 castle louder than ever before. The Turks were evidently 
 making haste on a new mine, more powerful than any yet. 
 Strong bodies of troops were protecting this work at a dis- 
 tance. The trenches began to swarm. From the innumer- 
 able colored banners that dotted the plain like flowers in the 
 direction of Dlujek, it was evident that the vizir himself was 
 coming to direct the assault. Fresh cannon were placed on 
 the earthworks by the janissaries, great masses of whom 
 covered the new castle, taking shelter in its trenches and 
 ruins, so as to be ready for a hand-to-hand fight. 
 
 As has been said, the castle was the first to begin to speak, 
 and that so effectually that it caused a temporary panic in the 
 entrenchments. But the bimbashes speedily rallied the 
 janissaries and at the same moment every Turkish gun raised 
 its voice. Grenades, flying about the heads of the besieged; 
 smoke was mingled with dust and the heat of fire with that of 
 the sun. Men could scarcely breathe, and their sight failed 
 them. The roar of guns, the bursting of grenades, the crash- 
 ing of cannon-balls against the rocks, the din of the Turks 
 and the shouts of the defenders made a terrible concert which 
 was accompanied by the echoes from the cliffs. Missiles 
 rained upon the castle, the city, the gates, and all the bastions. 
 But the castle furiously defended itself; to thunder it replied 
 with 'thunder, and trembled and flashed and smoked and 
 roared, its guns belching forth fire and death and devastation 
 as if it was carried away with Jove's anger and as if it had 
 forgotten itself amid flames and wafted to drown the Turkish 
 thunders and sink into the earth or gain the victory. 
 
 In the castle the little knight ran amid flying balls, fire, 
 dust, and smoke from gun to gun, from one wall to another, 
 
 (504) 
 
PAN MICHAEL. ^ 
 
 and from niche to niche; he himself resembled a destroying 
 ilame. He seemed to duplicate and triplicate himself: he 
 seemed ubiquitous. He yelled and gave encouragement. 
 When a gunner fell he took his place, and after instilling hope 
 into the men's hearts, he proceeded to another spot. His 
 ardor was communicated to the soldiers. They believed that 
 this was the last assault and would be followed by peace and 
 glory and their breasts were strong with the faith in victory. 
 Their hearts grew strong and vehement and they were seized 
 \vith the madness of battle. From moment to moment 
 shouts and challenges issued from their throats. Some of 
 them became possessed with such fury that they went outside 
 the walls to engage the janissaries at close quarters. 
 
 Under cover of the smoke the janissaries twice advanced to 
 the breach in dense masses, and twice they fell back panic- 
 stricken leaving the ground strewed with their bodies. 
 About noon the volunteers and irregulars were sent to their 
 assistance; but the less disciplined, throngs, though driven 
 forward with darts, only raised frightful howls and were un- 
 willing to attack the castle. The kaimakan came but that 
 did no good. Each moment the confusion increased threat- 
 ening to become a general panic. At length the men were 
 recalled and the guns were alone worked on ceaselessly as 
 before, hurtling thunder on thunder and lightning on 
 lightning. 
 
 Whole hours passed in this way. The sun had passed the 
 meridian and gazed down on that struggle rayless, red, and 
 smoky, as if veiled in a haze. About three in the afternoon 
 the roar of the guns had become so mighty that the loudest 
 words shouted in the ear could not be heard. The air in the 
 castle was as hot as an oven. The water poured on the guns 
 turned to steam, mingling with the smoke and obscuring the 
 light; but the guns kept on roaring. 
 
 Just after three o'clock the biggest culverins of the Turks 
 were shattered. A few Paters later the mortar standing be- 
 side them was hit by a long shot and burst. Gunners perished 
 like flies. Every instant it was becoming more evident that 
 the invincible castle was gaining the upper hand and would 
 roar down the Turkish thunder and utter the final word of 
 victory. . 
 
 The Turkish fire gradually In'gan to slacken. 
 
 "The end is near!" Vohxliyovski shouted with all his 
 might into Killing's car. lie wanted his friend to hear those 
 words amid the uproar. 
 
506 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "I think so too!" answered Ketling. To-morrow, or 
 longer ?" 
 
 "Perhaps longer. Victory is ours to-day." 
 
 "And through us!" 
 
 "We must think about that new mine." 
 
 The Turkish fire was growing feebler and feebler. 
 
 "Keep up the cannonade!" cried Volodiyovski. 
 
 And he sprang among the gunners and cried: "Fire, boys, 
 till the last Turkish gun is silenced! To the glory of God 
 and the Most Holy Virgin! To the glory of the Common- 
 wealth!" 
 
 The soldiers, seeing that the assault was coming to an end 
 uttered a loud shout and poured shot and shell into the 
 Turkish trenches with still greater enthusiasm. 
 
 "We'll play an evening 'kindya' for you, dogs," cried many 
 voices. 
 
 Suddenly a wonderful thing occurred. All the Turkish 
 guns ceased at once as if they had been cut off with a knife. 
 At the same time the musketry-fire from the janissaries in the 
 new castle also ceased. For some time yet the old castle con- 
 tinued to thunder but at last the officers began to look at each 
 other and inquire: 
 
 "What is it? What has happened?" 
 
 Ketling grew uneasy, and ceased firing also. 
 
 One of the officers suggested. 
 
 "Perhaps there is a mine under which is to be exploded 
 immediately. . ." 
 
 Volodiyovski's threatening glance transfixed the man and 
 said: "The mine is not ready; and even if it were only the left 
 side of the castle could be blown up by it and we will defend 
 ourselves among the ruins while there is breath in our 
 nostrils. Do you understand?" 
 
 Then there was silence not broken even by a shot from the 
 trenches or the city. After the thunders that had made the 
 walls and the ground tremble there was something solemn in 
 that silence, but also something ominous. The eyes of all 
 were intently fixed on the trenches, but nothing was to be 
 seen through the clouds of smoke. 
 
 Suddenly the measured sound of mattocks was again 
 audible on the left side. 
 
 "I told you that they are only making the mine," said Pan 
 Michael. 
 
 And he turned to Lusnia: 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 5 O 7 
 
 "Sergeant, take twenty men and examine the new castle 
 for me." 
 
 Lusnia quickly obeyed and in a moment disappeared be- 
 yond the breach. There was again silence, only broken by oc- 
 casional groans or gasps of the dying, and the strokes of the 
 mattocks. 
 
 There was rather a long wait till the sergeant returned. 
 
 "Pan Commandant/' he said, "there is not a living soul in 
 the castle." 
 
 Volodiyovski gazed at Ketling in amazement. "Have they 
 already raised the siege or what? The smoke renders every- 
 thing invisible." 
 
 But the smoke was gradually thinned by the wind and at 
 last its veil was rent above the city. At that moment a shrill 
 and dreadful cry arose from the bastion: 
 
 "There are white flags above the gates! We are surrender- 
 ing!" 
 
 As they heard it the officers and men turned towards the 
 city. Every face reflected awful amazement, words (lied 
 away on every lip and they gazed at the city through wre,ath,es 
 of smoke. In the city white flags were really waving on the 
 Russian and Polish gates. Farther away one was visible on 
 the bastion of Batory. 
 
 "Ketling, do you see," he whispered, turning to his friend. 
 
 "Ketling's face was also pale. 
 
 "I see," he replied. 
 
 And for some time they gazed into each other's eyes with 
 looks that said everything which two blameless and fearless 
 soldiers like themselves had to say soldiers, who had never 
 broken their word in their lives, and had sworn before the 
 altar to die rather than surrender the castle. Now, after such 
 a defence, after a struggle which recalled the days of Zbaraj, 
 after an assault which had been repulsed, and after a victory, 
 they were ordered to break their oaths, surrender the castle, 
 and live. 
 
 As hostile balls had been flying over the castle shortly 
 before, so now, ill-omened thoughts were flying in clouds 
 through their heads. And their hearts were oppressed with 
 boundless sorrow sorrow for two loved ones, sorrow for life 
 and happiness; so they looked wildly at one another, and di- 
 rected occasional glances full of despair towards the city, as 
 if wanting to assure themselves that their eyes were not de- 
 ceiving them, and that the hour had really struck. 
 
5o8 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 Then horses' hoofs sounded from the direction of the City, 
 and in a few moments, Horaim, the general of Podolia's 
 orderly rushed up to them: 
 
 "An order for the commander," he cried, reigning in his 
 horse. 
 
 Volodiyovski took the order, read it in silence and pre- 
 sently, amid a silence like that of a grave, said to the officers: 
 
 "Gentlemen, the commissioners have crossed the river in a 
 boat, and have gone to Dlujka, to sign conditions. Presently 
 they will come here. . . We must withdraw the troops from 
 the castle before evening and raise the white flag immedi- 
 ately." 
 
 No one answered a word. The only sound heard was quick 
 breathing. 
 
 At last, Kvasibrodzki said: 
 
 "We must raise the white flag, I will gather the men." 
 
 Here and there, words of command were heard. The 
 soldiers began to take their places in the ranks, and shoulder 
 arms. The clatter of muskets and a measured tramp awak- 
 ened echoes in the silent castle. 
 
 Ketling went up to Pan Michael. "Is it time?" he asked. 
 
 "Wait for the commissioners, let us hear the conditions. . . 
 besides, I will go down myself." 
 
 "No, I will go. I know the places better, I know the 
 position of everything." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by shouts. 
 
 "The commissioners are returning; the commissioners are 
 returning!" 
 
 The three unfortunate envoys presently entered the castle. 
 They were Grushetski, Judge of Podolia, the Chamberlain, 
 Jevuski, and Pan Myslishevski, Banneret of Chernigov. They 
 came in gloom, with bowed heads; on their shoulders shone 
 kaftans of gold brocade which had been given to them bv the 
 I Vizir. 
 
 Volodiyovski was awaiting them, resting against the gun 
 pointing towards Dlujka, which was still hot and smoking. 
 All three greeted him silently. 
 
 "What are the conditions?" he asked. 
 
 "The city will not be pillaged, the inhabitants are assured of 
 life and property. He who does not want to remain may re- 
 tire to wherever he likes." 
 
 "And Kamenets?" 
 
 The commissioners bowed their heads. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 "Goes to the Sultan forever and ever. . ." 
 
 The commissioners did not depart by the bridge, for it was 
 blocked by crowds of people, but they went out by the south- 
 ern gate. When they had gone down they entered the boat 
 to go to the Polish gate. On the strand, along the river 
 between the cliffs, the janissaries began to appear. Tho 
 people came flocking from the town in greater and great(3r 
 numbers and occupied the place opposite the old bridge; many 
 of them wanted to come into the castle, but by the little 
 knight's orders, they were prevented from doing so by the 
 departing regiments. 
 
 When Volodiyovski had mustered the men, he called Pan 
 Mushalski and said to him: 
 
 "Old friend, do me one more service; go at once to my wife 
 and tell her for me" here the little knight's voice stuck in 
 his throat, for some moments. "And say to her for me . " 
 here his voice again choked . . "and tell her for me," here he 
 said quickly: "this life is nothing." 
 
 The archer departed. . . The troops gradually followed 
 him. Pan Michael mounted his horse and directed the 
 march. The castle was evacuated slowly because of the rub- 
 bish and debris which blocked the way. 
 
 Ketling approached the little knight, "I will go down," he 
 said, setting his teeth. 
 
 "Go, but wait till the troops are all gone; go." 
 
 Then they clasped each other in a long embrace. The eyes 
 of both shone with unusual brilliancy. At length Ketling 
 darted away towards the vaults. 
 
 Pan Michael took oft' his helmet; for a while he gazed at the 
 ruins, at that scene of his glory; the rubbish, the corpses, the 
 shattered walls, the ramparts, and the guns; then he raised 
 his eyes, and began to pray. 
 
 His last words were, "0 Lord, grant that she may bear this 
 patiently, give her peace. . ." 
 
 Ah! Ketling had made haste, not even waiting until all the 
 troops had marched out, for at that moment, the bastions 
 trembled, a frightful roar rent the air, bastions, towers, walls, 
 horses, guns, men, living and dead, masses of earth. . all 
 torn up with a flash and mixed and welded together as it were, 
 into one dreadful charge flew into the air. . . 
 
 Thus perished Volodiyevski. . . The Hector of Kamenets, 
 the first soldier of the Commonwealth. 
 
 In the seminary of Stanislav, stood a lofty catafalque in the 
 
2 io MICHAEL. 
 
 centre of the chapel; it was surrounded with flaring tapers 
 and on it lay Pan Volodiyovski in a double coffin of lead and 
 wood. The lids had been fastened down, and the funeral 
 service was just concluding. 
 
 It was the widow's earnest wish that the body should rest 
 in Khreptyov, but since the whole of Podolia was in posses- 
 sion of the enemy, it was decided to inter it temporarily at 
 Stanislav, for to that place the exiles of Kamencts had been 
 sent under a Turkish escort and delivered over to the troops 
 of the Hetman there. 
 
 All the bells of the seminary were tolling. The chapel was 
 filled with a crowd of nobles and soldiers who wanted to take 
 a last look at the coffin of the Hector of Karnenets and the 
 first cavalier of the Commonwealth. It was whispered that 
 the Hetman himself was to be present at the funeral, but as 
 he had not yet arrived, and as the Tartars might come in a 
 chambul at any moment, it was decided not to put off the 
 ceremony. 
 
 Old soldiers, friends or subordinates of the deceased, stood 
 around the catafalque in a circle. Among others present were 
 Mushalski, the archer, Pan Motovidlo, Pan Snitko, Pan 
 Hromyka, Pan Nyenashinyets, Pan Novovyeyski, and many 
 other old officers of the military post. By a fortunate coinci- 
 dence, there was no man lacking of those who had sat in the 
 evening on the benches around the hearth at Khreptyov; they 
 had all come out of the war in safety with the exception of the 
 man who was their leader and model. That good and just 
 knight, terrible to the foe, and loving to his own; that match- 
 less swordsman, with the heart of a dove, lay there high among 
 swordsman, with the heart of a dove, lay there high among 
 the candles in immeasurable glory, but in the silence of death. 
 Hearts hardened by warfare were overcome with sorrow at 
 that sight; yellow rays from the candles gleamed on the stern 
 suffering faces of the warriors, and glittered in the tears 
 trickling from their eyelids. Within the circle of soldiers lay 
 P>asia, extended on the floor in the form of a cross, and near 
 her Zagloba, old, broken, decrepit, and trembling. She had 
 followed the hearse bearing that most precious coffin from 
 Kamenets on foot. And now the moment had come when 
 that coffin must be consigned to the earth. The whole way 
 as she walked, scarcely sensible, as if not belonging to this 
 world and now, beside the catafalque, she kept repeating 
 with unconscious lips, "This life is nothing!'' she repeated it 
 
UH'ltAEL. 5I , 
 
 because that beloved one had commanded it, for it was his 
 last message to her, but that repetition and those syllables were 
 mere sounds without substance, or truth, or meaning, or com- 
 fort. No, 'this life is nothing,' merely meant to her sorrow, 
 darkness, despair, mortification, merely irreparable misfor- 
 tune, merely crushed and broken life; a false statement that 
 there was nothing about her, neither mercy nor hope, that 
 there was simply a desert, and would be one which can only 
 be filled by God when he sends death. 
 
 The bells tolled, mass was concluded at the high altar. At 
 last, the deep voice of the priest thundered as if issuing from 
 the depths, Requiescat in pace. Basia trembled feverishly 
 and her dulled brain was only conscious of the thought, 
 "Now, now, they are going to take him away from me!" But 
 they had not yet reached the end of the ceremony. The 
 knights had prepared many speeches to be given when the 
 coffin was lowered^ and in the meantime, Father Kaminski 
 ascended the pulpit*; he was the same who had frequently been 
 at Khreptyov, and had prepared Basia for death when she 
 was ill. 
 
 In the church people began to hawk and cough, as is usual 
 before a sermon, then there was silence and all -eyes turned to 
 the pulpit. In the pulpit, the roll of a drum was heard. 
 
 The listeners were amazed. Father Kaminski was beating 
 the drum as if for an alarm; suddenly he stopped and a dead 
 silence followed. Then the drum was heard a second time 
 and then a third; suddenly the priest threw the drumsticks on 
 the floor o' the church and cried: 
 
 "Pan Colonel Volodiyovski." 
 
 He was answered by a horrible scream from Basia. The 
 emotion in the church was something terrible. Pan Zagloba 
 got up and carried the swooning woman out with the aid of 
 Mushalski. 
 
 In the meantime the priest continued, "For God's sake, Pan 
 Volodiyovski, they are sounding the alarm, there is war, the 
 enemy is at the boundary, and you do not spring up to seize 
 your sabre and mount your horse? What has come to you, 
 soldier, have you forgotten your former virtue, do you leave 
 us alone with grief and terror?" 
 
 The breasts of the knights heaved and the church broke out 
 into universal weeping, several times repeated, as the priest 
 extolled the deceased's virtue, patriotism, and bravery. The 
 preacher was carried away by his own words; his face grew 
 
5I2 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 pale; his brow broke out into perspiration and his voice shook. 
 He was carried away by grief for the little knight, grief for 
 Kamenets, grief for the Commonwealth, ruined by the hands 
 of the followers of the Crescent, and finally he concluded his 
 eulogy with this prayer: 
 
 "0 Lord, they will convert the churches into mosques and 
 read the Koran in places where the Gospel has been read 
 until now. Thou hast cast us down, Lord, Thou hast 
 turned away thy face from us, and delivered us over to the 
 power of the vile Turk. Inscrutable are thy decrees, Lord, 
 but who now will resist the Turk. What armies will fight 
 against him on the border; Thou, from whom nothing in the 
 world is hidden, Thou knowest best that there is no cavalry 
 superior to ours. What cavalry can charge for thee a Lord, 
 like ours? Wilt thou bring to nought defenders, behind 
 whose back the whole of Christendom might glorify Thy 
 Name. gracious Father, do not desert ijjs, have mercy upon 
 us. Send us a defender, send a destroyer of the vile Moham- 
 medan; let him come here, let him stand among us, let him 
 raise our fallen hearts; send him, Lord. . . !" 
 
 At that moment, the people at the door made way anil the 
 Hetman, Pan Sobieski, walked into the church; all eyes were 
 turned upon him, a quiver ran through the people and he 
 strode with jingling spurs to the catafalque, lordly, mighty, 
 with the face of a Caesar. He was followed by an escort of 
 iron cavalry. 
 
 "Salvator!" cried the priest in prophetic ecstasy. 
 
 Sobieski knelt beside the catafalque and prayed for the 
 soul of Volodiyovski. 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 More than a year had passed since the fall of Kamenets, 
 when the contention of parties having somewhat ceased, the 
 Commonwealth at length came out to defend its Eastern 
 boundary. 
 
 And it came out offensively. The Grand Hetman, Sobieski, 
 advanced with 31,000 cavalry and infantry to Khotsim, in the 
 Sultan's dominions, to attack the immeasurably superior 
 forces of Hussein Pasha at the latter fortress. 
 
 Sobieski's name had become terrible to the foe. During 
 the year that followed the capture of Kamenets, the Hetman, 
 with only a few thousand men had accomplished so much, and 
 so greatly injured the innumerable hosts of the Padishah, de- 
 stroyed so many chambuls, rescued such crowds of captives, 
 that old Hussein, though superior in numbers, commanding 
 picked cavalry, and helped by Kaplan Pasha, did not venture 
 to oppose the Hetman in an open field and determined to de- 
 fend himself in a fortified camp. 
 
 The Hetman invested that camp with his army, and it was 
 generally known that he intended to take it by assault. By 
 some, this was considered an enterprise unheard of in mili- 
 tary history, to attack a superior army, protected by walls and 
 entrenchments, with an inferior one. Hussein had one hun- 
 dred and twenty guns, while there were only fifty in the 
 Polish camp. The Turkish infantry was three times as nu- 
 merous as the Hetman's forces. Of the janissaries alone, so 
 terrible in hand-to-hand fighting, there were 18,000, but the 
 Hetman believed in his star, and in the spell of his name, and 
 lastly in the men under him. 
 
 Kegiments, trained and tried in fire, marched under him, 
 men who had grown up from their childhood amid the din of. 
 war, and passed through innumerable expeditions, campaigns, 
 sieges and battles. Many of them remembered the terrible 
 days of Khmyelnitski, and Zbaraj and Berestechko. Many 
 had served through all the Swedish, Prussian, Moscow, in- 
 ternecine, Danish, and Hungarian wars. He was accompanied 
 
 88 
 
5 ! 4 PAX MICHAEL. 
 
 by the escorts of Magnates, formed of veterans only; there 
 were soldiers from the frontier posts, to whom war had be- 
 come what peace is to other men: the ordinary business and 
 course of life. Under the Voyevoda of Russia, there were 
 fifteen squadrons of huzzars, cavalry whom foreigners con- 
 sidered matchless, there were light squadrons, the same at 
 whose head the Hetman had so disastrously defeated detached 
 Tartar chambuls after the fall of Kamenets, lastly, there were 
 the land infantry, who could charge janissaries with the butts 
 of their muskets without firing a shot. 
 
 Those veterans had been reared by warfare, for it had reared 
 entire generations in the Commonwealth, but hitherto they 
 had been scattered, or in the service of contending parties. 
 Now that internal union had assembled them in one camp 
 and under one command the Hetman with such soldiers hoped 
 to crush the more powerful Hussein and the equally powerful 
 Kaplan. At the head of these veterans were trained chiefs 
 who had inscribed their names more than once in the history 
 of the late wars, in the revolving wheel of victory and defeat. 
 
 The Hetman himself stood at the head of them all like a 
 sun, and directed thousands with his will, but who were the 
 other leaders who were to cover themselves with fame at this 
 camp of Khotsim? They were the two Lithuanian Hetmans, 
 the chief one, Pats, and the Field Hetman, Michael Casimir 
 Radzivill. These two joined the royal armies a few days be- 
 fore the battle, and now, by Sobieski's orders, they took up 
 their position on the heights connecting Khotsim and Jvanets. 
 
 Twelve thousand warriors obeyed their orders, among whom 
 were two thousand picked infantry. From the Dniester south- 
 wards stood the allied regiments of Wallachia, who deserted 
 the Turkish camp on the eve of the battle to unite their 
 strength with the Christians. On the flank of the Wallachians 
 with his artillery stood Pan Kantski, who could not be 
 equalled in capturing fortified places, in throwing up earth- 
 works and handling cannon. He had been trained abroad, 
 but soon excelled the foreigners themselves. Behind Pan 
 Kantski stood Korytski's Russian and Mazovian infantry; 
 and further on, the field Hetman of the kingdom, Dmitri 
 Vishnyovyetski, the cousin of the feeble king. Under him 
 was the light cavalry. Next to him, with his own force of 
 infantry and cavalry, stood Pan Andrey Pototski, once an 
 opponent of the Hetman's and now an admirer of his genius. 
 In the rear of himself and Korytski, under Pan Yablinovski, 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 515 
 
 Voyevoda of Kussia, stood fifteen squadrons of Hussars in 
 glittering mail, with helmets casting a threatening shadow on 
 their faces, and with wings at their shoulders. The forest 
 of lances reared their heads above these squadrons, but the 
 men stood calm, confident in their invincible strength, and 
 sure that it would be theirs to decide the victory. 
 
 There were warriors inferior to these in renown, but not 
 in manliness, there was the Podlasian Castellan, Pan Lujetski, 
 whose brother had been slain by the Turks in Bodjanov, for 
 which deed he had sworn a deathless vengeance. There was 
 Pan Stefan Charnyetski, nephew of the great Stefan, and 
 Field Secretary of the Kingdom. During the siege of Kamen- 
 ets he had headed a whole party of nobles at Golemb as one 
 of the King's partisans, and had almost stirred up civil war, 
 and now he wanted to distinguish himself by his bravery. 
 There was Gabriel Silnitski, whose whole life had been spent 
 in war, and whose head was already whitened with years; 
 there were other voyevodas and castellans, who were not so 
 experienced in previous warfare, nor so famous, and therefore 
 were more desirous of glory. 
 
 Among the knighthood that were not invested with sen- 
 atorial rank, though more than usually famous, was Pan 
 Skshetuski, the celebrated hero of Zbaraj, a warrior who was 
 held up as a model to the knighthood. He had shared in 
 every war undertaken by the Commonwealth for thirty years. 
 His hair was gray, but he was surrounded by six sons as 
 strong as six wild boars. Four of these were already acquainted 
 with war, but the two younger had still to serve their novi- 
 tiate, therefore they were burning with such martial ardor 
 that their father had to restrain their impatience with words 
 of advice. 
 
 The comrades regarded this father and his sons with great 
 respect, but greater admiration was evoked by Pan Yarotski, 
 who, blind in both eyes, the paragon of the Bohemian King 
 Yan, joined the campaign. 
 
 He had neither children nor relations, he was led by the 
 hands of attendants; his only hope was to lay down his life 
 in battle, benefit his country, and gain glory. There also was 
 Pan Jechytski, whose father and brother fell in that year. 
 There was also Pan Motovidlo, who not long before had es- 
 caped from Tartar captivity and taken the field with Pan 
 Mvslishevski. The former wanted to avenge his captivity, 
 and the latter, the injustice which he had suffered at Kamen- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 ets where, in spite of the conditions and his dignity as a 
 noble, he had been beaten with rods by the janissaries. There 
 were knights of great experience from the outposts of the 
 Dniester: the wild Pan Rushchyts and the matchless archer 
 Mushalski, who had brought a sound head out of Kamenets, 
 because the little knight had sent him with a message to 
 Basia. There was Snitko, and Pan Nyenashinyets, and Pan 
 Hromyka, and most wretched of all, Pan Adam Novovyeyski. 
 
 Even his friends and relatives desired death for this man 
 for there was no consolation left for him. After regaining his 
 health, Pan Adam had destroyed chambuls for a whole year, 
 pursuing Lipkovs with special tenacity. After Pan Moto- 
 vidlo's defeat by Krychinski, he had hunted Krychinski 
 through the whole of Podolia, giving him no rest, and causing 
 him no end of trouble. In one of these expeditions he had 
 captured Adurovich and flayed him alive. He spared no pris- 
 oners, but his sufferings found no relief. He joined the Rus- 
 sian voyavoda's hussars a month before the battle. 
 
 This was the knighthood with which Pan Sobieski took up 
 his position at Khotsim. These warriors were anxious to 
 wreak vengeance for the wrongs of the Commonwealth in the 
 first place, but secondly, for their own. In constant warfare 
 with the Infidels in that blood-stained land, nearly every man 
 had lost some dear one, and carried in his heart the remem- 
 brance of some awful calamity. Therefore, the Grand Het- 
 man hastened to battle, for he saw that the fury in the hearts 
 of his soldiers was like the fury of a lioness whose cubs have 
 been stolen from the jungle by reckless hunters. 
 
 On November 9, 1674, the business commenced with skir- 
 mishing. In the morning, throngs of Turks appeared before 
 the walls, and throngs of Polish knights eagerly hastened to 
 meet them. Men fell on both sides, but the Turks suffered 
 the greater loss: however, only a few Turks or Poles of note 
 \ foil. At the very beginning of the skirmish, Pan May was 
 pierced by the scimitar of a gigantic spahi, but the head of 
 the latter was almost severed at a blow by Pan Yan's youngest 
 8on. This deed earned for him the praise of his prudent 
 father, and great glory. 
 
 They fought singly or in groups, the spectators of the strug- 
 gle gained courage and became more eager every moment. In 
 the meantime, detachments of the army were placed around 
 the Turkish camp, each in the position assigned by Sobieski. 
 The latter took up his position on the old Yassy road, behind 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 5l y 
 
 Korytski's infantry, and gained a view of Hussein's entire 
 camp^, and his face expressed that serene tranquility possessed 
 by a master who is sure of his art before he commences his 
 labor. Now and then ne despatches adjutants with orders, 
 and then he thoughtfully watched the skirmishing. Towards 
 evening the Voyevoda of Russia came to him. 
 
 "The intrenchments are so extensive/ 7 he said, "that it is 
 impossible to make a simultaneous attack on all sides." 
 
 "To-morrow, we shall be in the intrenchments and the day 
 after we shall cut down those men in three-quarters of an 
 hour," Sobieski calmly replied. 
 
 Meanwhile night came on. The skirmishers retired from 
 the field. The Hetman ordered all the divisions to approach 
 the entrenchments in the darkness; Hussein prevented this as 
 much as possible with heavy guns, but with no result. To- 
 wards morning the Polish divisions again slightly advanced. 
 The infantry began to throw up breast-works. Some of the 
 regiments had advanced to within a musket shot. The janis- 
 saries opened a close fire. By the Herman's command, there 
 was scarcely any reply to these volleys, but the infantry pre- 
 pared for a hand-to-hand attack. The soldiers only awaited 
 the signal for a wild charge. Grape-shot flew over their long 
 line with whistling and a noise like flocks of birds. Pan 
 KantskPs artillery began the attack at daybreak and did not 
 cease for one moment. Not till the battle was over was it 
 known what tremendous destruction had been wrought by its 
 missiles falling in the places most thickly covered with the 
 tents' of the janissaries and spahis. 
 
 Thus passed the time till noon, but as it was November 
 and the day was short, haste was necessary. Suddenly, all 
 the benbens and small and great drums were heard. Some 
 dozen thousands of throats shouted with one voice. The in- 
 fantry, supported by light cavalry, rushed in the dense mass 
 to the attack. 
 
 They attacked the Turks simultaneously at five points. 
 The foreign regiments were led by Yan Dennemark and 
 Christopher De Bohan, experienced warriors. The former oi' 
 a fiery nature rushed on with such elan that he reached his 
 entrenchment and almost destroyed his own regiment, for he 
 encountered a volley from twelve or fifteen hundred muskets. 
 He himself fell. The soldiers began to waver, but at that 
 moment De Bohan came to the rescue and stopped a panic. 
 With a step as steadily as on parade and keeping time to the 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 fosse with fascines, was the first to cross it beneath a storm 
 music, he marched the whole distance right up to the Turkish 
 intrenchments answering volley with volley, and, filling the 
 posse with fascines, was the first to eross it beneath a storm 
 of bullets; he raised his cap to the janissaries, and ran his 
 sword through the first banneret. Carried away by the ex- 
 ample of such a colonel, the soldiers sprang forward and a 
 terrible contest commenced, in which discipline and training 
 vied successfully with the fierce courage of the janissaries. 
 
 But dragoons were quickly brought up from the small vil- 
 lages of Taraban by Tetwin and Doenhoff ; another regiment 
 was headed by Aswer Greben and Haydepol, all distinguished 
 soldiers who, with the exception of Haydepol, had covered 
 themselves with great glory in Denmark under Charnyetski. 
 The troops under their command were big and doughty, se- 
 lected from men on the Royal domains, and well trained to 
 fight on foot and horseback. The gate was defended against 
 them by irregular Turkish soldiers, who, though in great 
 force, were quickly thrown into confusion and forced to re- 
 treat; when they came to close quarters they only defended 
 themselves when they had no chance of escape. That gate 
 was the first one opened, and the cavalry were the first to pass 
 it to the interior of the camp. 
 
 At the head of the Polish militia, Pans Kobyletski, Michael 
 Jebrovski, Pyotrkovchyk, and Galetski, stormed the entrench- 
 ments at three other points. A most stubborn fight raged at 
 the main gate on the Yassy road where the Mazovians came 
 in contact with the guard of Hussein Pasha. The vizir con- 
 sidered that gate of the utmost importance, for the Polish 
 cavalry might dash into the camp through it, so he determined 
 to defend it to the last, and constantly pushed fresh bodies 
 of janissaries to the front. The militia took the gate at one 
 stroke and then exerted all their strength to retain it. They 
 were driven back by cannon balls and a storm of bullets from 
 small arms. Every moment fresh bodies of Turkish warriors 
 sprang out of the clouds of smoke to attack them. Pan 
 Kobyletski did not wait for them, but sprang at them like a 
 raging bear, and two walls of men clashed together, swaying 
 backwards and forwards at close quarters in disorder, in a 
 vortex, in rivers of blood, and on heaps of corpses. They 
 fought with every kind of weapon; with swords, knives, gun- 
 stocks, shovels, clubs, etc., and sometimes the crush became 
 30 tremendous and terrible, that men grappled with each other 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 519 
 
 and fought with fists and teeth. Hussein twice attempted to 
 break the infantry with a cavalry charge; but each time the 
 infantry fell upon him with such extraordinary resolution that 
 the cavalry had to retreat in disorder. Pan Sobieski at last 
 took pity on his men and sent all the camp-servants to their 
 assistance. 
 
 Pan Motovidlo was leading them. This mob, very seldom 
 employed in battle, and armed with all kinds of weapons, 
 dashed forward with such ardor that they even roused the 
 Hetman's admiration. It may be that they were inspired 
 with the desire for spoil; it may be that the fire that pos- 
 sessed the whole army that day was communicaited to them 
 also. It is sufficient that they charged the janissaries as if 
 they were only smoke and were so irresistible that at the first 
 onset they drove them back a musket's shot from the gate. 
 Hussein cast fresh regiments into the vortex of battle and the 
 struggle was instantly renewed and lasted for whole hours. 
 Meanwhile Korytski at the head of picked regiments attacked 
 the gate in force; in the distance the hussars, like a huge 
 bird lazily rising for flight, also advanced towards the gate. 
 
 At that moment an orderly rushed up to the Hetman from 
 the eastern side of the camp. 
 
 "The voyevoda of Belsk is on the walls," he cried with heav- 
 ing breast. 
 
 He was followed by a second: 
 
 "The hetmans of Lithuania, are on the walls!" 
 
 He was followed by others and all with similar news. The 
 world had grown dark, but there was light in the Hetman's 
 face. He turned to Pan Bidzinski by his side and said: 
 
 "It will be the cavalry's turn next; but that will be in the 
 morning." / 
 
 Nobody in either the Turkish or Polish army knew or 
 imagined that the Hetman meant to put off the general attack 
 till the next morning. Far from it ! Orderlies carried orders 
 to the captains to hold them in readiness at any moment. The 
 infantry stood in close ranks and the cavalry kept their hands 
 on their sabres and lances. They were all impatiently await- 
 ing the word, for the men were cold and hungry. 
 
 But no commands arrived and hours passed on. The night 
 became as black as a shroud. A drizzling rain had set in 
 about one in the afternoon., but about midnight it gave way 
 to a fierce wind with hail and snow. Its blasts froze the mar- 
 row in the bones of men; the horses were scarcely able to keep 
 
X MIC HAUL. 
 
 their feet, and men were numbed. The sharpest dry frost 
 could never be so bitter as that hail and snow that cut like 
 a scourge. Momentarily expecting the signal, it was not pos- 
 sible to think about eating and drinking, or kindling fires. 
 The weather grew worse every hour. That was a memorable 
 night, "a night of torture and gnashing of teeth." The 
 voices of the captains crying "Stand I stand!" were heard 
 every instant; and the soldiers, perfectly disciplined, stood 
 alert, motionless, and patient. 
 
 But the stiffened Turkish regiments, equally alert, stood 
 facing them in the hail, and tempest, and darkness. 
 
 Among them also nobody lighted a fire, or ate, or drank. 
 The attack of the whole Polish force might occur at any mo- 
 ment, and so the spahis could not let their sabres out of their 
 hands. The janissaries stood like a wall with their muskets 
 ready to shoot. The hardy Polish soldiers, inured to the 
 rigors of winter, could spend such a night; but the others, 
 reared in the mild climate of Kumelia, or among the palms 
 of Asia Minor, were suffering more than they could endure. 
 At last Hussein found out why Sobieski did not commence 
 the attack. It was because that frozen rain was the Poles' 
 best ally. It was clear that, if the spahis and janissaries were 
 to be forced to stand through twelve such hours as those, the 
 cold would lay them down like sheaves on the morrow. They 
 would not even try to -defend themselves; at least till they 
 were warmed by the heat of battle. 
 
 Both Poles and Tartars comprehended this. About four in 
 the morning Hussein was approached by two Pashas, Yanish 
 and Kiaya, the leader of the janissaries, an old warrior of 
 experience and renown. Both their faces were troubled and 
 anxious. 
 
 Kiaya was the first to speak: "Lord, if my 'lambs 7 have to 
 stand like this till daylight, neither bullets nor sword will be 
 needed against them." 
 
 "Lord," said Yanish Pasha, "my spahis will freeze and be 
 unable to fight in the morning." 
 
 Hussein pulled at his beard, foreseeing defeat for his army 
 and ruin for himself. But what could he do ? If he allowed 
 his men to fall out even for a moment, or light fires to warm 
 themselves with hot food, the attack would commence at once. 
 Even now the trumpets sounded at the walls at intervals as if 
 the cavalry were about to advance. 
 
 Kiaya and Yanish Pashas could only see one way to escape 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 5 2i 
 
 disaster, and that was not to await the attack, but to strike at 
 the foe with the entire force. It mattered not that he was 
 prepared; for, though he was ready to attack, he himself did 
 not anticipate attack. Perhaps they might drive him out of 
 the trenches; in the worst case defeat was only a probability in 
 a night battle, but in the morrow's fight it was certain. 
 
 But Hussein did not care to take the old warriors' advice. 
 
 "What?" he cried; "you have lined the camp with trenches, 
 regarding them as the one safe-guard against that hellish cav- 
 alry, that was your counsel and precaution; and now you 
 say something else!" 
 
 He did not issue the command. He merely ordered the 
 cannon to fire, which was instantly answered with great effect 
 by Pan Kantski. The rain became colder and colder and cut 
 more and more cruelly; the wind roared and howled and pene- 
 trated clothing and skin and froze the blood in the veins. 
 Thus passed that long November night during which the 
 strength of the warriors of Islam failed in them and despair 
 invaded their hearts with a foreboding of defeat. 
 
 Even at daybreak Yanish Pasha again approached Hussein 
 and advised him to retreat in order of battle to the bridge 
 over the Dniester and cautiously commence the game of war 
 there. "For," said he, "if the troops cannot withstand the 
 charge of the cavalry they can retreat to the opposite bank and 
 be protected by the river." But Kiaya, the chief of the janis- 
 saries, did not agree with this opinion. He thought that 
 Yanish's counsel came too late and feared that an order to 
 retreat might throw the entire army into immediate panic. 
 The spahis supported by the djamaks must meet the first 
 shock of cavalry of the unbelievers even if they are all de- 
 stroyed thereby. By that time the janissaries will come to 
 their support and when the first charge of the unbelievers is 
 checked God may perhaps send the victory." 
 
 Kiaya and Hussein followed this advice. Multitudes of 
 mounted Turks went to the front and the janissaries and 
 djamaks were disposed in their rear around Hussein's tents. 
 Their serried ranks presented a splendid and awe-inspiring 
 spectacle The white-bearded Kiaya, "Lion of God," who 
 had led only to victory till that time, flew along their close 
 ranks strengthening and encouraging them and recalling for- 
 mer battles and their own unbroken power to their memories. 
 They also far preferred battle to that idle waiting amid storm 
 and rain and wind that pierced them to the bone; and so, 
 
522 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 although they could scarcely hold the muskets and spears in 
 their stiffened hands, their spirits rose at the thought that 
 they would warm them in battle. The spahis awaited the at- 
 tack with far less desire, because they had to face its first fury, 
 and secondly, because among them were many natives of Asia 
 Minor and Egypt who were only half-alive after that night, 
 as they were extremely sensitive to cold. The horses also 
 suffered considerably and, though covered with splendid ca- 
 parisons, they stood with their heads lowered to the earth, 
 breathing columns of steam from their nostrils. With blue 
 faces, and half-sightless eyes, the men had not the least 
 thought of victory. Their sole thought was that death would 
 be preferable to such torture as they had experienced during 
 the past night, but flight to their distant homes, beneath the 
 hot beams of the sun, would be better still. 
 
 Many of the Polish troops who were unsufficiently clothed 
 had died on the walls before day; but on the whole, they had 
 endured the cold far better than the Turks, for they were 
 strengthened by the hope of victory and an almost blind faith 
 that since the Hetman had ordained that they must stiffen in 
 the rain, the torture must infallibly result in their own ad- 
 vantage, and the hurt and ruin of the Turks. However, even 
 they gladly greeted the first beam of dawn. 
 
 At that moment Sobieski appeared at the walls. 
 
 That day there was no bright dawn in the sky, but there 
 was brightness in his face; for when he saw that the enemy 
 meant fight in the camp, he was sure that that day would 
 result in a terrible rout to Mohammed, so he went from regi- 
 ment to regiment repeating: "For the desecration of churches! 
 for blasphemy against the Most Holy Virgin in Kamenets! 
 for injury to Christendom and the Commonwealth! for 
 Kamenets!" The soldiers' faces assumed a terrible expres- 
 sion, as if to say, "We can scarcely restrain ourselves! Let 
 us go, Grand Hetman, and you shall see!" The gray morning 
 light momentarily grew brighter and brighter and from the 
 fog rows of horses heads, forms of men, lances, standards, and 
 finally regiments of infantry became more distinct every mo- 
 ment. First they advanced through the fog towards the 
 enemy like two rivers on the flanks of the cavalry; then the 
 light cavalry moved, leaving only a broad track in the centre, 
 along which the hussars were to charge at the right moment. 
 
 Every head of an infantry and every captain had his in- 
 structions and knew what to do. Pan Kantskfs artillery be- 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 523 
 
 gan to speak more deeply and elicit also strong response from 
 the Turkish side. The musketry rattled and a mighty shout 
 arose throughout the camp; the attack had commenced. 
 
 The foggy atmosphere obscured the view, but the sounds 
 of the struggle reached the spot where the hussars were await- 
 ing. The clash of weapons and the yells of the men could be 
 heard. The Hetman who had remained with the hussars until 
 then, and was talking with the Eussian Voyevoda, suddenly 
 stopped and listened. 
 
 The infantry are engaged with the Djamaks, the front 
 ranks are dispersed, he said to the voyevoda. 
 
 Presently, when the musketry was slackening, suddenly a 
 mighty volley roared, quickly followed by another. It was 
 evident that the light cavalry had driven back the spahis and 
 were face to face with the janissaries. 
 
 The Grand Hetman set spurs to his horse and sprang to 
 the battle at lightning speed at the head of a small body of 
 men. The Voyevoda of Russia remained behind with the 
 fifteen squadrons of hussars who, in perfect order, were only 
 awaiting the signal to dash to the front and decide the fate 
 of the battle. 
 
 They waited for some time yet, and in the meantime, in the 
 heart of the camp, it seethed and roared more and more ter- 
 ribly. Sometimes the battle seemed to roll towards the right, 
 and sometimes to the left. Now towards the Lithuanian regi- 
 ments, and now towards the Voyevoda of Belski; exactly as in 
 a storm, when thunders roll across the sky. The artillery-fire 
 of the Turks was slackening, while Pan Kantski's guns re- 
 doubled their energy. In the course of an hour it appeared 
 to the Voyevoda of Russia, that the might of the struggle 
 moved to the centre immediately in front of his hussars. 
 
 At that moment, the Grand Hetman galloped up at the 
 head of his escort. His eyes were flashing fire. He reined in 
 his horse near the Voyevoda and cried: 
 
 "At them now, with God's aid!" 
 
 "At them!" shouted the Voyevoda of Russia. 
 
 And the captains repeated the order after him. With a 
 dreadful noise that forest of lances dropped with one move- 
 ment level with the horses' heads and fifteen squadrons of that 
 cavalry which was accustomed to destroy everything before it, 
 advanced like a mighty cloud? 
 
 From the day when, during the three day's battle at War- 
 saw, the Lithuanian hussars under Polubiriski had split the 
 
,, 24 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 entire Swedish army like a wedge, and penetrated it, a 
 remembered an attack made with such force. Those s 
 rons started at a trot, but at two hundred paces distance, the 
 captains ordered "Gallop!" The men shouted "Strike, kill!" 
 in answer, and bent in their saddles as the horses went at full 
 speed. Then that column sweeping on like a tornado com- 
 posed of horses, iron men, and levelled lances, partook some- 
 what of the resistless character of an element let loose. It 
 moved like a storm or a raging river, with fury and uproar. 
 The earth trembled under its weight, and even if no man had 
 levelled a lance, or drawn a sabre, it was evident that the 
 mere weight and shock of the hussars w r ould overturn, tram- 
 ple, and shatter everything before them, just as a tornado 
 shatters and levels a forest. Thus they swept on to the bloody 
 field, strewn with bodies, where the battle was raging. The 
 light cavalry were still fighting on the wings with the Turkish 
 cavalry, which they had succeeded in driving back some dis- 
 tance. But in the centre the dense ranks of the janissaries 
 stood like an indestructible wall. Again and again the light 
 cavalry had broken themselves against that wall, as a rolling 
 wave breaks itself on a rocky shore. It was now the task of 
 the hussars to shatter and destroy it. 
 
 Several thousands of muskets thundered like a single re- 
 port. In another moment the janissaries settled themselves 
 more firmly on their feet and some blinked their eyes at the 
 sight of the terrible charge; the hands of some of them trem- 
 bled as they grasped their spears, and the hearts of all were 
 beating like hammers, their teeth were clinched, and their 
 breasts heaving terribly. The hussars are just upon them. 
 The loud breathing of the horses is heard. Destruction, an- 
 nihilation, and death are swooping down on them. 
 
 "Allah! . . . Jesu Maria!" . . . These two cries are 
 mingled as terribly as if they had never broken from human 
 breasts till that moment. The living wall shakes, bends and 
 breaks. The dry snapping of broken lances for a moment 
 drowns every other sound, and then is heard the clash of iron, 
 the sound as of thousands of hammers striking violently on 
 anvils, as of thousands of flails on a threshing-floor, and single 
 and collective cries, groans, shouts, reports of pistols and 
 guns, and howls of terror. Attackers and attacked are min- 
 gled in an indescribable vortex. A slaughter follows. From 
 under the press blood flows, warm, steaming, and spreading 
 its raw odor on the air. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 535 
 
 The first,, second, third, and tenth rank of the janissaries 
 are lying like a pavement, trampled with hoofs, pierced with 
 lances, and slashed with swords. But the white-bearded 
 Kiaya, "Lion of God," casts all his men into the seething 
 battle. It matters not that they are levelled like grain before 
 a tempest. They fight, they are seized with rage, they breathe 
 forth death, and seek it. The lava of horses' chests presses 
 against them, bends, and upsets them. They lay open the 
 horses' bellies with their knives, thousands of sabres cease- 
 lessly slash them, blades rise like lightning and fall on their 
 heads, necks, and hands. They slash the hussars on the legs 
 and knees, they coil about and bite like venomous reptiles, 
 they die and avenge themselves. 
 
 Kiaya, "Lion of God," constantly hurls fresh forces into the 
 jaws of death. He encourages them to fight by his cries and 
 with uplifted scimitar he rushes himself into the press. Then 
 a gigantic hussar, destroying everything before him like a 
 flame, falls upon the white-bearded old man and, rising in his 
 stirrups, to give a more terrible stroke, brings a two-handed 
 sword down on the white head with an awful sweep. Neither 
 the scimitar, nor the helmet forged in Damascus, can resist 
 the blow, and Kiaya, cleft almost to the shoulders, falls to 
 the earth as if struck by lightning. 
 
 Pan Novovyeyski, for it was he, had already caused terrible 
 havoc, for no one could withstand the strength and sullen 
 fury of the man; but now he had done that utmost service by 
 cutting down the old hero who alone kept up the obstinate 
 fight. The janissaries raised a dreadful cry at the sight of 
 the death of their chief, and some of them aimed their mus- 
 kets at the breast of the cavalier. He turned towards them 
 like dark night, and before they could be sabred by other hus- 
 sars the shots rang out, Pan Adam reined in his horse, and 
 bowed in his saddle. Two comrades grasped him by the arms, 
 but a smile, long a stranger guest, illuminated his gloomy 
 face, his eyes rolled in his head, and his white lips whispered 
 words which no one could distinguish in the roar of battle. 
 Meanwhile, the last ranks of the janissaries wavered. 
 
 The valia.nt Yanish Pasha endeavored to renew the fight, 
 but his men had fallen into a panic and all efforts were use- 
 less. The ranks were broken and shattered, driven back, 
 beaten down, trampled and slashed, and they could not re- 
 cover their order. Finally they broke like an over-strained 
 chain and men flew apart from each other in all directions 
 
52 6 PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 like separate links, yelling, shouting, casting away their weap- 
 ons, and covering their heads with their hands. The cavalry 
 followed them up, and not finding any room for separate 
 flight, they huddled together in dense masses, on whose necks 
 the cavalry rode swimming in hlood. Pan Mushalski, the 
 archer, struck the valiant Yanish Pasha such a fierce "blow on 
 the neck with his sabre, that his spinal marrow gushed out and 
 stained his silk shirt and the silver scales of his mail. 
 
 The diamaks, defeated by the Polish infantry, and part of 
 the cavalry which was dispersed at the very beginning of the 
 battle, in fact a whole Turkish division, now fled to the oppos- 
 ite side of the camp where was a rocky ravine some dozens 
 of feet deep. They were driven there by the madness of 
 terror. Many cast themselves over the precipice, not to es- 
 cape death, but death at the hands of the Poles. Pan Bidzin- 
 ski, the Crown Commander, obstructed the way of this de- 
 spairing crowd, but the avalanche of fugitives carried him 
 along with it and cast him to the bottom of the precipice, 
 which in a few moments was filled almost to the brink with 
 heaps of slain, wounded, and suffocated men. 
 
 Dreadful groans arose from the bottom; bodies were quiv- 
 ering, kicking one another, or clawing in the agonies of death. 
 The sound of groaning and the writhing of the bodies lasted 
 till evening, but more and more faintly, till at dark they 
 ceased altogether. 
 
 The effect of the shock of the hussars was frightful.. 
 
 Eight thousand sabred janissaries lay near the trench sur- 
 rounding the tents at Hussein Pasha, without counting those 
 who perished in the flight, or at the foot of the precipice. The 
 Polish cavalry was among the tents; Pan Sobieski had tri- 
 umphed. The trumpets were giving forth their blare of vic- 
 tory when the battle suddenly flamed up again. 
 
 When the janissaries were routed, the vizir, Hussein Pasha, 
 at the head of his mounted guards and all the surviving cav- 
 alry, fled through the gate leading to Yassy; but when the 
 squadrons of Dmitri Vishnyovyetski intercepted him outside, 
 and began to slash without mercy, he turned back to the camp 
 to seek another outlet of escape, just as a wild beast sur- 
 rounded in a forest seeks an outlet. He came back with such 
 a rush that in a moment he scattered the light squadron of 
 Semenovs, threw the infantry, who were partly occupied in 
 pillaging the camp, into disorder, and reached to within half 
 a pistol shot of the Hetman himself. 
 
PAN MICHAEL. 527 
 
 "In the very camp/' afterwards wrote Pan Sobieski, "we 
 came near being defeated, and our escape from death must 
 be attributed to the extraordinary resolution of the hussars. 
 In fact, the pressure of the Turks was tremendous, under the 
 impulse of utter despair, and it was the more terrible because 
 entirely unexpected; but the hussars, who had not yet cooled 
 from the heat of battle, immediately charged them with the 
 greatest impetus. Prusinovski's squadron first advanced and 
 brougkt the attackers to a halt. He was followed by Pan Yan 
 Skshetuski with his men, and then the whole army, cavalry, 
 infantry, and camp-followers, every man as he was and 
 wherever he happened to be; they all charged the enemy with 
 the greatest fury, and there was a battle somewhat disordered, 
 but not less furious than the hussars' charge on the janis- 
 saries. 
 
 When the struggle was over the knights looked back with 
 wonder on the valor of the Turks, who, attacked by Vishnyov- 
 yetski and the Hetmans of Lithuania and surrounded on all 
 sides, defended themselves with such fury that, although 
 Sobieski allowed the Poles to take prisoners then, they were 
 scarcely able to take the handful of captives. Finally, when 
 the heavy squadrons dispersed them after half an hour's 
 fighting, single groups and single horsemen fought to the last 
 gasp, calling upon Allah. Many glorious deeds were per- 
 formed, the memory of which has not perished among men. 
 The Field Hetman of Lithuania slew a strong Pasha who 
 had killed Pan Rudomina, Pan Kimbar, and Pan Rdultovski, 
 but the Field Hetman, coming upon him unnoticed, cut off 
 his head with one blow. Pan Sobieski slew before the army 
 a spahi who had fired a pistol at him. Pan Bidzinski, the 
 Crown Commander, escaping from the ravine by some miracle, 
 although bruised and wounded, at once dashed into the thick 
 of the fight and fought till he fainted with exhaustion. He 
 was sick for a long time, but recovered his health after some 
 months and again went to the field with great glory to him- 
 self. 
 
 Of less celebrated men, Pan Rushchyts fought the most 
 furiously, destroying horsemen as a wolf snatches sheep from 
 a flock. Pan Yan Skshetuski on his part performed wonders, 
 and his sons fought around him like young lions. Sorrow- 
 fully and regretfully did these knights afterwards think of 
 what Pan Yolodiyovski, that swordsman above all others, 
 would have performed on that day, had it not been that he 
 
52 g PAN MICHAEL. 
 
 had been in the earth for a whole year resting in God and in 
 Glory. But others trained in his school gained sufficient 
 fame for him and for themselves on that field of carnage. 
 
 Besides Pan Novovyeyski, two of the old knights of Khrcpt- 
 yov fell in that renewed fight: Pan Motovidlo and the terrible 
 archer, Mushalski. Several balls simultaneously pierced 
 Motovidlo's breast and he fell like an oak that has reached 
 its term. It was said by eye-witnesses that he fell by the 
 hand of those Cossack brothers who had struggled to the last 
 under Hohol against their mother-country and Christendom. 
 Strange to relate, Pan Mushalski died by an arrow from the 
 bow of some fugitive Turk; it pierced his throat just at the 
 moment when, at the final defeat of the Infidel, he was put- 
 ting his hand to the quiver to send fresh unerring messen- 
 gers of death in pursuit of the flying. But his soul had to 
 join the soul of Didyuk, so that the friendship begun on the 
 Turkish galley might endure bound together in eternity. The 
 old comrades of Khreptyov found the three bodies after the 
 battle and took a tearful farewell of them, though they envied 
 their glorious. death. Pan Novovyeyski had a smile upon his 
 lips and his face was calm and serene; Pan Motovidlo seemed 
 to be peacefully sleeping; and Pan Mushalski had his eyes 
 raised as if in prayer. They were buried together on that 
 glorious field of Khotsim beneath the cliff on which, as an 
 eternal memorial of the day, their three names were engraved 
 beneath a cros, . 
 
 The leader of the entire Turkish army, Hussein Pasha, es- 
 caped on a swift Anatolian steed, but only to receive a silken 
 cord from the hands of the Sultan at Stambul. O'f the mag- 
 nificent Turkish army only small bands were able to carry 
 away whole heads from the disaster. The last legions of Hus- 
 sein Pasha's cavalry fell into the hands of the troops of the 
 Commonwealth. Thus, the field Hetman drove them to the 
 Grand Hetman, and he drove them to the Lithuanian Het- 
 mans, and they back again to the Field Hetman, and so in 
 turn, till almost the whole of them had perished. Scarcaly 
 one of the janissaries escaped. The whole enormous camp was 
 streaming with blood mingled with snow and rain. So many 
 bodies lay there that nothing but crows, ravens, and wolves 
 prevented a pestilence, which usually comes from decaying 
 bodies. The Polish troops were inspired with such an ardor 
 of battle, that, without waiting to draw breath after the vic- 
 tory, they captured Khotsim. Immense spoil was taken in 
 
PAX MICHAEL. $29 
 
 the camp itself. The Grand Hetman took one hundred and 
 twenty guns and three hundred flags and standards from that 
 field on which the Polish sabre had celebrated a great triumph 
 for the second time in the course of a century. 
 
 Pan Sobieski himself stood in Hussein Pasha's tent, which 
 sparkled with rubies and gold, and sent forth news of the for- 
 tunate victory in every direction by swift couriers. Then were 
 assembled the cavalry and infantry; all the squadrons, Polish, 
 Lithuanian, and Cossack and the whole army stood in battle 
 array. A Thanksgiving Mass was celebrated and on the same 
 square, where the day before Muezzins had cried "La Allah 
 ilia Allah!" Te Deum Laudamus was chanted. 
 
 The Hetman, extended in the form of a cross, heard mass 
 and the chant, and joyful tears were flowing down his worthy 
 face when he rose. At that sight the legions of knights not 
 yet cleansed from the blood, still trembling after their exer- 
 tions in the fight, chrice uttered the mighty thundering shout: 
 
 "Vivat, Joannes victor!" 
 
 Ten years later, when the might of King Yan the Third 
 (Sobieski) hurled the Turkish power at Vienna to the dust, 
 that shout was repeated from sea to sea, from mountain to 
 mountain, throughout the world, wherever bells called the 
 faithful to prayer. 
 
 Here ends this series of books, written in the course of 
 several years and with no little labor, for the strengthening 
 of men's hearts. 
 
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