"I understand," said he, "I understand well, my benefactor, why you wish to send him away at the earliest; but in truth I must tell you that I think no ill of that Panna Anulka. It is true that immediately after the duel she did not receive Pan Yatsek very nicely, but remember that she and Pani Vinnitski were snatched from the jaws of the wolves by my son and the Bukoyemskis. What wonder, then, that, at sight of the blood and the wounds of those gentlemen, she was seized with an anger, which Pan Gideon roused in her purposely, as I know. Pan Gideon is a stubborn man, truly; but when I was there the poor girl came to me perfectly penitent. 'I see,' said she, 'that we did not act justly, and that some reparation is due to Pan Yatsek.' Her eyes became moist immediately, and pity seized me, because that face of hers is comely beyond measure. Besides, she has an honest soul and despises injustice."
"By the dear God! let not Yatsek hear of this; for his heart would rush straightway to death again, and barely has he begun to breathe now in freedom. He ran away from Pan Gideon's bareheaded; he swore that he would never go back to that mansion, and God guard him from doing so. Women, your grace, are like will-o'-the-wisps which move at night over swamp lands at Yedlinka. If you chase one it flees, if you flee it pursues you. That is the way of it!"
"That is a wise statement, which I must drive into Stashko," said Pan Serafin.
"Let Yatsek go at the earliest. I have written letters already to various acquaintances, and to dignitaries whom I knew before they were dignitaries, and to warriors the most famous. In those letters your son, too, is recommended as a worthy cavalier; and when his turn comes to go he shall have letters also, though he may not need them, since Yatsek will prepare the way for him. Let the two serve together."
"From my whole soul I thank you, my benefactor. Yes! let them serve together, and may their friendship last till their lives end. You have mentioned the regiment of Alexander, the king's son, which is under Zbierhovski. That is a splendid regiment, – perhaps the first among the hussars, – so I should like Stashko to join it; but he said to me: 'The light-horse for six days in the week, and the hussars, as it were, only on Sunday.'"
"That is true generally," answered the priest. "Hussars are not sent on scouting expeditions, and it is rare also that they go skirmishing, as it is not fitting that such men should meet all kinds of faces; but when their turn comes, they so press on and trample that others do not spill so much blood in six days as they do on their Sunday. But then, war, not the warriors, command; hence sometimes it happens that hussars perform every-day labor."
"You, my benefactor, know that beyond any man."
Father Voynovski closed his eyes for a moment, as if wishing to recall the past more in detail; then he raised them, looked at the mead, swallowed one mouthful, then a second, and said, -
"So it was when toward the end of the Swedish war we went to punish that traitor, the Elector, for his treaties with Carolus. Pan Lyubomirski, the marshal, took fire and sword to the outskirts of Berlin. I was then in his own regiment, in which Viktor was lieutenant commander. The Brandenburger4 met us as best he was able, now with infantry, now with general militia in which were German nobles; and I tell you that at last, on our side, the arms of the hussars and the Cossacks of the household seemed almost as if moving on hinges."
"Was it such difficult work then?"
"It was not difficult, for at the mere sight of us muskets and spears trembled in the hands of those poor fellows as tree branches tremble when the wind blows around them; but there was work daily from morning till twilight. Whether a man thrusts his spear into a breast or a back, it is labor. Ah! but that was a lovely campaign! for, as people said, it was active, and in my life I have never seen so many men's backs and so many horse rumps as in that time. Even Luther was weeping in hell, for we ravaged one half of Brandenburg thoroughly."
"It is pleasant to remember that treason came to just punishment."
"Of course it is pleasant. The Elector appeared then and begged peace of Lyubomirski. I did not see him, but later on soldiers told me that the marshal walked along the square with his hands on his hips while the Elector tripped after him like a whip-lash. The Elector bowed so that he almost touched the ground with his wig, and seized the knees of the marshal. Nay! they even said that he kissed him wherever it happened; but I give no great faith to that statement, though the marshal, who had a haughty heart, loved to bend down the enemy; but he was a polite man in every case, and would not permit things of that kind."
"God grant that it may happen with the Turks this time as it did then with the Elector."
"My experience, though not lofty, is long, and I will say to you sincerely that it will go, I think, as well or still better. The marshal was a warrior of experience and especially a lucky one, but still, we could not compare Lyubomirski with His Grace the King reigning actually."
Then they mentioned all the victories of Sobieski and the battles in which they themselves had taken part. And so they drank to the health of the king, and rejoiced, knowing that with him as a leader the young men would see real war; not only that, but, since the war was to be against the ancient enemy of the cross, they would win immense glory.
In truth no one knew accurately anything yet about the question. It was not known whether the Turkish power would turn first on the Commonwealth or the Empire. The question of a treaty with Austria was to be raised at the Diet. But in provincial diets and the meetings of nobles men spoke of war only. Statesmen who had been in Warsaw, and at the court, foretold it with conviction, and besides, the whole people had been seized by a feeling that it must come-a feeling almost stronger than certainty, and brought out as well by the former deeds of the king as by the general desire and the destiny of the nation.
CHAPTER VII
On the road to Radom Father Voynovski had invited Pan Serafin and Stanislav to his house for a rest, after which he and Yatsek were to visit them at Yedlinka. During this visit three of the Bukoyemskis appeared, unexpectedly. Marek, whose shoulder-blade had been cut, could not move yet, but Mateush, Lukash, and Yan came to bow down before the old man and thank him for his care of them when wounded. Yan had lost a little finger, and the older brothers had big scars, one man on his cheek, the other on his forehead, but their wounds had then healed and they were as healthy as mushrooms.
Two days before they went on a hunt to the forest, smoked out a sleepy she-bear, speared her, and took her cub which they brought as a gift to Father Voynovski, whose fondness for wild beasts was known by all people.
The priest whom they had pleased as "innocent boys" was amused with them and the little bear very greatly. He shed tears from laughter when the cub seized a glass filled with mead for a guest, and began to roar in heaven-piercing notes to rouse proper terror, and thus save the booty.
On seeing that no one wished the mead, the bear stood on its hind-legs and drank out the cup in man fashion. This roused still greater pleasure in the audience. The priest was amused keenly, and added, -
"I will not make this cub my butler or beekeeper."
"Ha!" cried Stanislav, laughing, "the beast was a short time at school with the Bukoyemskis, but learned more in one day from them than it would all its life in the forest."
"Not true," put in Lukash, "for this beast has by nature such wit that it knows what is good without learning. Barely had we brought the cub from the forest when it gulped down as much vodka (whiskey) right off as if it had drunk the stuff every morning with its mother, and then gave a whack on the snout to a dog, as if saying 'This for thee-don't sniff at me'-after that it went off and slept soundly."
"Thank you, gentlemen. I will have real pleasure from this bear," said the priest, "but I will not make the creature my butler or beekeeper, for though knowing drinks well, it would stay too near them."
"Bears can do more than one thing. Father Glominski at Prityk has a bear which pumps the organ they say. But some people are scandalized, for at times he roars, especially when any one punches him."
"Well, there is no cause for scandal in that," replied Father Voynovski; "birds build nests in churches and sing to the glory of God; no one is scandalized. Every beast serves God, and the Saviour was born in a stable."
"They say, besides," added Mateush, "that the Lord Jesus turned a miller into a bear, so maybe there is a human soul in him."
"In that case you killed the miller's wife, and must answer," said Pan Serafin. "His Grace the King is very jealous of his bears and does not keep foresters to kill them."
When they heard this the three brothers grew anxious, but it was only after long thinking that Mateush, who wished to say something in self-defence, answered, -
"Pshaw! are we not nobles? The Bukoyemskis are as good as the Sobieskis."
But a happy thought came to Lukash, and his face brightened.
"We gave our knightly word," said he, "not to shoot bears, and we shoot no bears; we spear them."
"His Grace the King is not thinking of bears at the present," said Yan; "and besides, no one will tell him. Let any forester here say a word. It is a pity, however, that we boasted in presence of Pan Gideon and Pan Grothus, for Pan Grothus has just gone to Warsaw, and as he sees the king often, he may mention this accidentally."
"But when did ye see Pan Gideon?" asked the priest.
"Yesterday. He was conducting Pan Grothus; You know, benefactor, the inn called Mordovnia? They stopped there to let their beasts rest. Pan Gideon asked about many things, and he talked also of Yatsek."
"About me?" inquired Yatsek.
"Yes. 'Is it true,' asked he, 'that Tachevski is going to the army?' 'True,' we answered.
"'But when?'
"'Soon, we think.'
"Then Pan Gideon said again: 'That is well. Of course he will join the infantry?'
"At that we all became angry, and Mateush said. 'Do not say that, your grace, for Yatsek is our friend now, and we must be on his side.' And as we began to pant, he restrained himself. 'I do not mention this out of any ill-will, but I know that Vyrambki is not an estate of the crown,'" said he.
"An estate, or not, what is that to him?" cried the priest. "He need not trouble his head with it!"
But it was clear that Pan Gideon thought otherwise, and did trouble his head about Yatsek; for an hour later the youth who brought in a decanter of mead brought a sealed letter also.
"There is a messenger to your grace from Pan Gideon," said he.
Father Voynovski took the letter, broke the seal, opened it, struck the paper with the back of his hand, and, approaching the window, began to read.
Yatsek grew pale from emotion; he looked at the letter as at a rainbow, for he divined that there must be mention of him in it. Thoughts flew through his head as swallows fly. "Well," thought he, "the old man is penitent; here is his excuse. It must be so and even cannot be otherwise. Pan Gideon has no more cause now to be angry than those men who suffered in the duel, so his conscience has spoken. He has recognized the injustice of his conduct. He understands how grievously he injured an innocent person, and he desires to correct the injustice."
Yatsek's heart began to beat like a hammer. "Oh! I will go to the war," said he in his soul-"not for me is happiness over there. Though I forgive her I cannot forget. But to see once more, before going, that beloved Anulka, who is so cruel, to have a good look once again at her, to hear her voice anew. O Gracious God, refuse not this blessing!"
And his thoughts flew with still greater swiftness than swallows; but before they had stopped flying something took place which no man there had expected: on a sudden Father Voynovski crushed the letter in his hand and grasped toward his left side as if seeking a sabre. His face filled with blood, his neck swelled, and his eyes shot forth lightning. He was simply so terrible that Pan Serafin, his son, and the Bukoyemskis looked at him with amazement, as if he had been turned into some other person through magic.
Deep silence reigned in the chamber.
Meanwhile the priest bent toward the window, as if gazing at some object outside it, then he turned away looked first at the walls and then at his guests. It was clear that he had been struggling with himself and had come to his mind again, for his face had grown pale, and the flame was now dim in his eyeballs.
"Gracious gentlemen," said he, "that man is not merely passionate, but evil altogether. To say in excitement more than justice permits befalls every man, but to continue committing injustice and trampling on those who are offended is not the deed of a noble, or a Catholic." Then, stooping, he raised the crumpled letter and turned to Tachevski.
"Yatsek, if there is still in thy heart any splinter, take this knife and cut it out thoroughly. Read, poor boy, read aloud, it is not for thee to be ashamed, but for him who wrote this letter. Let these gentlemen learn what kind of man is Pan Gideon."
Yatsek seized the letter with trembling hands, opened it and read:
"My very gracious Priest, Pastor, Benefactor, Etc., Etc., – Having learned that Tachevski of Vyrambki, who has frequented my house, is to join the army during these days, I, in memory of the bread with which I nourished his poverty, and for the services in which sometimes I was able to use him, send the man a horse, and a ducat to shoe the beast, with the advice not to waste the money on other and needless objects.
"Offering at the same time to you my willing and earnest services, I inscribe myself, etc., etc."
Yatsek grew so very pale after reading the letter that the men present had fears for him, especially the priest who was not sure that that pallor might not be the herald of some outburst of madness, for he knew how terrible was that young man in his anger, though usually so mild. He began therefore at once to restrain him.
"Pan Gideon is old, and has lost one arm," said he quickly, "thou canst not challenge him!"
But Yatsek did not burst out, for at the first moment immeasurable and painful amazement conquered all other feelings.
"I cannot challenge him," repeated he, as an echo, "but why does he continue to trample me?"
Thereupon Pan Serafin rose, took both Yatsek's hands, shook them firmly, kissed him on the forehead, and added, -
"Pan Gideon has injured, not thee, but himself, and if thou drop revenge every man will wonder all the more at thy noble soul which deserves the high blood in thee."
"Those are wise words!" cried the priest, "and thou must deserve them."
Pan Stanislav now embraced Yatsek.
"In truth," said he, "I love thee more and more."
This turn of affairs was not at all pleasing to the Bukoyemskis, who had not ceased to grit their teeth from the moment of hearing the letter. Following Stanislav they embraced Yatsek also.
"No matter how things are," said Lukash at last, "I should do differently in Yatsek's place."
"How?" asked the two brothers with curiosity.
"That is just it. I don't know how, but I should think out something, and would not yield my position."
"Since thou knowst not do not talk."
"But ye, do ye know anything?"
"Be quiet!" said the priest. "Be sure I shall not leave the letter unanswered. Still, to drop revenge is a Christian and a Catholic action."
"Oh but! Even you, father, snatched for a sabre the first moment."
"Because I carried a sabre too long. Mea Culpa! Still, as I have said, this fact comes in also. Pan Gideon is old, he has only one arm; iron rules are not in place here. And I tell you, gentlemen, that for this very reason I am disgusted to the last degree with this raging old fellow who makes use of his impunity so unjustly."
"Still, it will be too narrow for him in our neighborhood," said Yan Bukoyemski. "Our heads for this: that not a living foot will go under that roof of his."
"Meanwhile an answer is needed," said Father Voynovski, "and immediately."
For a time yet they considered as to who should write, – Yatsek, at whom the letter was aimed, or the priest to whom it was directed. Yatsek settled the question by saying, -
"For me that whole house and all people in it are as if dead, and it is well for them that in my soul this is settled."
"It is well that the bridges are burnt!" said the priest; as he sought pen and paper.
"It is well that the bridges are burnt," repeated Yan Bukoyemski, "but it would be better that the mansion rose in smoke! This was our way in the Ukraine: when some strange man came in and knew not how to live with us, we cut him to pieces and up in smoke went his property."
No one turned attention to these words save Pan Serafin, who waved his hands with impatience, and answered, -
"You, gentlemen, came in here from the Ukraine, I, from Lvoff, and Pan Gideon from Pomorani; according to your wit Pan Tachevski might count us all as intruders; but know this, that the Commonwealth is a great mansion occupied by a family of nobles, and a noble is at home in every corner."
Silence followed, except that from the alcove came the squeaking of a pen and words in an undertone which the priest was dictating to himself. Yatsek rested his forehead on his palms and sat motionless for some time; all at once he straightened himself, looked at those present, and said, -
"There is something in this beyond my understanding."
"We do not understand, either," added Lukash, "but if thou wilt pour out more mead we will drink it."
Yatsek poured into the glasses mechanically, following at the same time the course of his own thoughts.
"Pan Gideon," said he, "might be offended because the duel began at his mansion, though such things happen everywhere; but now he knows that I did not challenge, he knows that he offended me under my own roof unjustly, he knows that with you I am now in agreement, and that I shall not appear at his house again, – still he pursues me, still he is trying to trample me."
"True, there is some kind of special animosity in this," said Pan Serafin.
"Ha! then there is as you think something in it?"
"In what?" asked the priest, who had come out with a letter now written, and heard the last sentence.
"In this special hatred against me."
The priest looked at a shelf on which among other books was the Holy Bible, and said, -
"That which I will say to thee now I said long ago: there is a woman in it." Here he turned to those present. "Have I repeated to you, gentlemen, what Ecclesiastes says about woman?"
But he could not finish, for Yatsek sprang up as if burnt by living fire. He thrust his fingers through his hair and almost screamed, for immense pain had seized him.
"Still more do I fail to understand; for if any one in the world-if to any one in the world-if there be any one of such kind-then with my whole soul-"
But he could not say a word more, for the pain in his heart had gripped his throat as if in a vice of iron, and rose to his eyes as two bitter, burning tears, which flowed down his cheeks. The priest understood him then perfectly.
"My Yatsek," advised he, "better burn out the wound, even with awful pain than let it fester. For this reason I do not spare thee. I, in my time, was a soldier of this world, and understand many things. I know that regret and remembrance, no matter how far a man travels, drag like dogs after him, and howl in the night-time. They give him no chance to sleep because of this howling. What must he do then? Kill those dogs straightway. Thou at this moment feelest that thou wouldst have given all thy blood over there; for which reason it seems to thee so marvellous and terrible that from that side alone vengeance pursues thee. The thing seems to thee impossible; but it is possible-for if thou hast wounded the pride and self-love of a woman, if she thought that thou wouldst whine and thou hast not whined when she beat thee, and thou didst not fawn in her presence, but hast tugged at thy chain and hast broken it, know that she will never and never forgive thee, and her hatred, more raging than that of any man living, will always pursue thee. Against this there is only one refuge: crush the love, even on thy own heart, and hurl it, like a broken bow, far from thee-that is thy one refuge!"
Again there was a moment of silence. Pan Serafin nodded, confirming the priest, and, as a man of experience, he admired all the wisdom of his statement.
"It is true," added Yatsek, "that I have tugged at the chain, and have broken it. So it is not Pan Gideon who pursues me!"
"I know what I should do," said Lukash, on a sudden.
"Tell, do not hide!" cried the other two.
"Do ye know what the hare said?"
"What hare? Art thou drunk?"
"Why that hare at the boundary ridge."
And, evidently encouraged, he stood up, put his hand on his hip and began to sing:
"A hare was just sitting for pleasure,
Just sitting at the boundary ridge.
But the hunters did not see him
Did not know
That he was sitting lamenting
And making his will
At the boundary ridge."
Here he turned to his brothers and asked them, -
"Do ye know the will made by that hare at the boundary ridge?"
"We know, but it is pleasant to hear it repeated."
"Then listen.
"Kiss me all ye horsemen and hunters,
Kiss me at the boundary ridge.
"This is what I would write to all at Belchantska if I were in Yatsek's position; and if he does not write it, may the first Janissary disembowel me if I do not write it in my own name and yours to Pan Gideon."
"Oh, as God is dear to me, that is a capital idea!" cried Yan, much delighted.
"It is to the point and full of fancy!"
"Let Yatsek write that!"
"No," said the priest, made impatient by the talk of the brothers. "I am writing, not Yatsek, and it would not become me to take your words." Here he turned to Pan Serafin and Stanislav and Yatsek. "The task was difficult, for I had to twist the horns of his malice and not abandon politeness, and also to show him that we understood whence the sting came. Listen, therefore, and if any one of you gentlemen has made a nice judgment I beg you to criticise this letter." And he began, -
"Great mighty benefactor, and to me very dear Sir and Brother."
Here he struck the letter with the back of his hand, and said, -
"You will observe, gentlemen, that I do not call him 'my very gracious,' but 'my very dear.'"
"He will have enough!" said Pan Serafin, "read on, my benefactor."
"Then listen: 'It is known to all citizens of our Commonwealth that only those people know how to observe due politeness in every position who have lived from youth upward among polite people, or who, coming of great blood, have brought politeness into the world with them. Neither the one nor the other has come to your grace as a portion, while on the contrary the Mighty Lord Pan Yatsek Tachevski inherited from renowned ancestors both blood and a lordly spirit. He forgives you your peasant expressions and sends back your peasant gifts. Rustics keep inns in cities and also eating-houses on country roads for the entertainment of people. If you will send to the great Lord Pan Yatsek Tachevski the bill for such entertainment as he received at your house he will pay it, and add such gratuity as seems proper to his generous nature.'"
"Oh, as God is dear to me!" exclaimed Pan Serafin, "Pan Gideon will have a rush of blood!"
"Ha! it was necessary to bring down his pride, and at the same time to burn the bridges. Yatsek himself wanted that- Now listen to what I write from myself to him: 'I have inclined Pan Tachevski to see that though the bow is yours, the poisoned arrow with which you wished to strike that worthy young gentleman was not in your own quiver. Since reason in men, and strength in their bones, weaken with years, and senile old age yields easily to suggestions from others, it deserves more indulgence. With this I end, adding as a priest and a servant of God, this: that the greater the age, the nearer life's end, the less should a man be a servant of hatred and haughtiness. On the contrary, he should think all the more of the salvation of his soul, a thing which I wish your grace. Amen. Herewith remaining, etc. I subscribe myself, etc.'"
"All is written out accurately," said Pan Serafin; "nothing to be added, nothing taken away."
"Ha!" said the priest, "do you think that he gets what he deserves?"
"Oi! certain words burnt me."
"And me," added Lukash. "It is sure that when a man hears such speeches he wants to drink, just as on a hot day."
"Yatsek, attend to those gentlemen. I will seal the letter and send it away."
So saying he took the ring from his finger and went to the alcove. But while sealing the letter some other thought came to his head, as it happened, for when he returned, he said, -
"It is done. The affair is over. But do you not think it too cutting? The man is old, it may cost him his health. Wounds given by the pen are no less effective than those by the sword or the bullet."
"True! true!" said Yatsek, and he gritted his teeth.
But just this exclamation of pain decided the matter. Pan Serafin added, -
"My revered benefactor, your scruples are honorable, but Pan Gideon had no scruples whatever; his letter struck straight at the heart, while yours strikes only at malice and pride. I think, therefore, that it ought to be sent."
And the letter was sent. After that still more hurried preparations were made for Yatsek's departure.