Pan Michael

Hour followed hour; the fire did not weaken. But meanwhile news of the heroic defence was borne through the town, exciting enthusiasm and warlike desire. The Polish inhabitants, especially the young men, began to call on one another, to look at one another, and give mutual encouragement. "Let us go to the castle with assistance! Let us go; let us go! We will not let our brothers perish! Come, boys!" Such voices were heard on the square and at the gates; soon a few hundred men, armed in any fashion, but with daring in their hearts, moved toward the bridge. The Turks turned on the young men a terrible fire, which stretched many dead; but a part passed, and they began to work on the wall against the Turks with great zeal.

This fourth attack was repulsed with fearful loss to the Turks, and it seemed that a moment of rest must come. Vain hope! The rattle of janissary musketry did not cease till evening. Only when the evening kindya was played, did the cannon grow silent, and the Turks leave the ruins of the new castle. The remaining officers went then from the wall to the other side. The little knight, without losing a moment, gave command to close up the breach with whatever materials they could find, – hence with blocks of timber, with fascines, with rubbish, with earth. Infantry, cavalry, dragoons, common soldiers, and officers vied with one another, regardless of rank. It was thought that Turkish guns might renew fire at any moment; but that was a day of great victory for the besieged over the besiegers. The faces of all the besieged were bright; their souls were flaming with hope and desire of further victories.

Ketling and Pan Michael, taking each other by the hands after their labor, went around the square and the walls, bent out through the battlements, to look at the courtyard of the new castle and rejoice at the bountiful harvest.

"Body lies there near body," said the little knight, pointing to the ruins; "and at the breach there are such piles that you would need a ladder to cross them. That is the work of your cannon, Ketling."

"The best thing," answered Ketling, "is that we have repaired that breach; the approach is closed to the Turks, and they must make a new mine. Their power is boundless as the sea, but such a siege for a month or two must become bitter to them."

"By that time the hetman will help us. But come what may, you and I are bound by oath," said the little knight.

At that moment they looked into each other's eyes, and Pan Michael asked in a lower voice, "And have you done what I told you?"

"All is ready," whispered Ketling, in answer; "but I think it will not come to that, for we may hold out very long here, and have many such days as the present."

"God grant us such a morrow!"

"Amen!" answered Ketling, raising his eyes to heaven.

The thunder of cannon interrupted further conversation. Bombs began to fly against the castle again. Many of them burst in the air, however, and went out like summer lightning.

Ketling looked with the eye of a judge. "At that trench over there from which they are firing," said he, "the matches have too much sulphur."

"It is beginning to smoke on other trenches," said Volodyovski.

And, in fact, it was. As, when one dog barks in the middle of a still night, others begin to accompany, and at last the whole village is filled with barking, so one cannon in the Turkish trenches roused all the neighboring guns, and a crown of bombs encircled the besieged place. This time, however, the enemy fired at the town, not the castle; but from three sides was heard the piercing of mines. Though the mighty rock had almost baffled the efforts of miners, it was clear that the Turks had determined at all cost to blow that rocky nest into the air.

At the command of Ketling and Pan Michael, the defenders began to hurl hand-grenades again, guided by the noise of the hammers. But at night it was impossible to know whether that means of defence caused any damage. Besides, all turned their eyes and attention to the town, against which were flying whole flocks of flaming birds. Some missiles burst in the air; but others, describing a fiery circle in the sky, fell on the roofs of houses. At once a reddish conflagration broke the darkness in a number of places. The Church of St. Catherine was burning, also the Church of St. George in the Russian quarter, and soon the Armenian Cathedral was burning; this, however, had been set on fire during the day; it was merely ignited again by the bombs. The fire increased every moment and lighted up all the neighborhood. The outcry from the town reached the old castle. One might suppose that the whole town was burning.

"That is bad," said Ketling, "for courage will fail in the inhabitants."

"Let everything burn," said the little knight; "if only the rock is not crushed from which we may defend ourselves."

Now the outcry increased. From the cathedral the fire spread to the Armenian storehouses of costly merchandise. These were built on the square belonging to that nationality; great wealth was burning there in gold, silver, divans, furs, and rich stuffs. After a while, tongues of fire appeared here and there over the houses.

Pan Michael was disturbed greatly. "Ketling," said he, "look to the hurling of grenades, and injure work in the mines as much as possible. I will hurry to the town, for my heart is suffering for the Dominican nuns. Praise be to God that the Turks leave the castle in quiet, and that I can be absent!"

In the castle there was not, in truth, at that moment much to do; hence the little knight sat on his horse and rode away. He returned only after two hours in company with Pan Mushalski, who after that injury sustained at the hands of Hamdi Bey, recovered, and came now to the fortress, thinking that during storms he might cause notable loss to the Pagans, and gain glory immeasurable.

"Be welcome!" said Ketling. "I was alarmed. How is it with the nuns?"

"All is well," answered the little knight. "Not one bomb 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 at home. She and Basia are in one cell, and Pan Zagloba is with them. Pan Adam, to whom consciousness has returned, is here too. He begged to come with me to the castle; but he is not able to stand long on his feet yet. Ketling, go there now, and I will take your place here."

Ketling embraced Pan Michael, for his heart drew him greatly to Krysia, and gave command to bring his horse at once. But before they brought the horse, he inquired of the little knight what was to be heard in the town.

"The inhabitants are quenching the fire very bravely," answered the little knight; "but when the wealthier Armenian merchants saw their goods burning, they sent deputations to the bishop and insisted on surrender. Hearing of this, I went to the council, though I had promised myself not to go there again. I struck in the face the man who insisted most on surrender: for this the bishop rose in anger against me. The situation is bad, brother; cowardice is seizing people more and more, and our readiness for defence is for them cheaper and cheaper. They give blame and not praise, for they say that we are exposing the place in vain. I heard too that they attacked Makovetski because he opposed negotiations. The bishop himself said to him, 'We are not deserting faith or king; but what can further resistance effect? See,' said he, 'what will be after it, – desecrated shrines, honorable ladies insulted, and innocent children dragged captive. With a treaty,' said he, 'we can assure their fate and obtain free escape.' So spoke the bishop. The starosta nodded and said, 'I would rather perish, but this is true.'"

"The will of God be done!" said Ketling.

But Pan Michael wrung his hands. "And if that were even true," cried he, "but God is witness that we can defend ourselves yet."

Now they brought Ketling's horse. He mounted quickly.

"Carefully through the bridge," said Pan Michael at parting, "for the bombs fall there thickly."

"I will return in an hour," said Ketling; and he rode away.

Pan Michael started to go around the walls with Mushalski. In three places hammering was heard; hence the besieged were throwing hand-grenades from three places. On the left side of the castle Lusnia was directing that work.

"Well, how is it going with you?" inquired Volodyovski.

"Badly, Pan Commandant," said the sergeant: "the pig-bloods are sitting in the cliff, and only sometimes at the entrance does a piece of shell hurt a man. We haven't done much."

In other places the case was still worse, especially as the sky had grown gloomy and rain was falling, from which the wicks in the grenades were growing damp. Darkness too hindered the work.

Pan Michael drew Mushalski aside somewhat, and halting, said on a sudden, "But listen! If we should try to smother those moles in their burrows?"

"That seems to me certain death, for whole regiments of janissaries are guarding them. But let us try!"

"Regiments are guarding them, it is true; but the night is very dark, and confusion seizes them quickly. Just think, they are talking of surrender in the town. Why? Because, they say to us, 'There are mines under you; you are not defending yourselves.' We should close their lips if to-night we could send the news, 'There is no longer a mine!' For such a cause is it worth while to lay down one's head or not?"

Pan Mushalski thought a moment, and cried, "It is worth while! As God lives, it is!"

"In one place they began to hammer not long ago," said Pan Michael; "we will leave those undisturbed, but here and on that side they have dug in very deeply. Take fifty dragoons; I will take the same number; and we will try to smother them. Have you the wish?"

"I have, and it is increasing. I will take spikes in my belt to spike cannon; perhaps on the road I may find some."

"As to finding, I doubt that, though there are some falconets standing near; but take the spikes. We will only wait for Ketling; he knows better than others how to succor in a sudden emergency."

Ketling came as he had promised; he was not behind time one moment. Half an hour later two detachments of dragoons, of fifty men each, went to the breach, slipped out quickly, and vanished in the darkness. Ketling gave command to throw grenades for a short time yet; then he ceased work and waited. His heart was beating unquietly, for he understood well how desperate the undertaking was. A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour, an hour: it seemed that they ought to be there already and to begin; meanwhile, putting his ear to the ground, he heard the quiet hammering perfectly.

Suddenly at the foot of the castle, on the left side, there was a pistol-shot, which in the damp air, in view of the firing from the trenches, did not make a loud report, and might have passed without rousing the attention of the garrison had not a terrible uproar succeeded it. "They are there," thought Ketling; "but will they return?" And then sounded the shouts of men, the roar of drums, the whistle of pipes, – finally the rattle of musketry, hurried and very irregular. The Turks fired from all sides and in throngs; evidently whole divisions had run up to succor the miners. As Pan Michael had foreseen, confusion seized the janissaries, who, fearing to strike one another, shouted loudly, fired at random, and often in the air. The uproar and firing increased every moment. When martens, eager for blood, break into a sleeping hen-house at night, a mighty uproar and cackling rise in the quiet building: confusion like that set in all at once round the castle. The Turks began to hurl bombs at the walls, so as to clear up the darkness. Ketling pointed guns in the direction of the Turkish troops on guard, and answered with grape-shot. The Turkish approaches blazed; the walls blazed. In the town the alarm was beaten, for the people believed universally that the Turks had burst into the fortress. In the trenches the Turks thought that a powerful sortie was attacking all their works simultaneously; and a general alarm spread among them. Night favored the desperate enterprise of Pan Michael and Mushalski, for it had grown very dark. Discharges of cannon and grenades rent only for instants the darkness, which was afterward blacker. Finally, the sluices of heaven opened suddenly, and down rushed torrents of rain. Thunder outsounded the firing, rolled, grumbled, howled, and roused terrible echoes in the cliffs. Ketling sprang from the wall, ran at the head of fifteen or twenty men to the breach, and waited. But he did not wait long. Soon dark figures swarmed in between the timbers with which the opening was barred.

"Who goes there?" cried Ketling.

"Volodyovski," was the answer. And the two knights fell into each other's embrace.

"What! How is it there?" asked the officers, rushing out to the breach.

"Praise be to God! the miners are cut down to the last man; their tools are broken and scattered. Their work is for nothing."

"Praise be to God! Praise be to God!"

"But is Mushalski with his men?"

"He is not here yet."

"We might go to help him. Gracious gentlemen, who is willing?"

But that moment the breach was filled again. Mushalski's men were returning in haste, and decreased in number considerably, for many of them had fallen from bullets. But they returned joyously, for with an equally favorable result. Some of the soldiers had brought back hammers, drills, and pickaxes as a proof that they had been in the mine itself.

"But where is Mushalski?" asked Pan Michael.

"True; where is Pan Mushalski?" repeated a number of voices.

The men under command of the celebrated bowman stared at one another; then a dragoon, who was wounded severely, said, with a weak voice, —

"Pan Mushalski has fallen. I saw him when he fell. I fell at his side; but I rose, and he remained."

The knights were grieved greatly on hearing of the bowman's death, for he was one of the first cavaliers in the armies of the Commonwealth. They asked the dragoon again how it had happened; but he was unable to answer, for blood was flowing from him in a stream, and he fell to the ground like a grain-sheaf.

The knights began to lament for Pan Mushalski.

"His memory will remain in the army," said Pan Kvasibrotski, "and whoever survives the siege will celebrate his name."

"There will not be born another such bowman," said a voice.

"He was stronger in the arm than any man in Hreptyoff," said the little knight. "He could push a thaler with his fingers into a new board. Pan Podbipienta, a Lithuanian, alone surpassed him in strength; but Podbipienta was killed in Zbaraj, and of living men none was so strong in the hands, unless perhaps Pan Adam."

"A great, great loss," said others. "Only in old times were such cavaliers born."

Thus honoring the memory of the bowman, they mounted the wall. Pan Michael sent a courier at once with news to the starosta and the bishop that the mines were destroyed, and the miners cut down by a sortie. This news was received with great astonishment in the town, but – who could expect it? – with secret dislike. The starosta and the bishop were of opinion that those passing triumphs would not save Kamenyets, but only rouse the savage lion still more. They could be useful only in case surrender were agreed on in spite of them; therefore the two leaders determined to continue further negotiations.

But neither Pan Michael nor Ketling admitted even for a moment that the happy news could have such an effect. Nay, they felt certain now that courage would enter the weakest hearts, and that all would be inflamed with desire for a passionate resistance. It was impossible to take the town without taking the castle first; therefore if the castle not merely resisted, but conquered, the besieged had not the least need to negotiate. There was plenty of provisions, also of powder; in view of this it was only needful to watch the gates and quench fires in the town.

During the whole siege this was the night of most joy for Pan Michael and Ketling. Never had they had such great hope that they would come out alive from those Turkish toils, and also bring out those dearest heads in safety.

"A couple of storms more," said the little knight, "and as God is in heaven the Turks will be sick of them, and will prefer to force us with famine. And we have supplies enough here. September is at hand; in two months rains and cold will begin. Those troops are not over-enduring; let them get well chilled once, and they will withdraw."

"Many of them are from Ethiopian countries," said Ketling, "or from various places where pepper grows; and any frost will nip them. We can hold out two months in the worst case, even with storms. It is impossible too to suppose that no succor will come to us. The Commonwealth will return to its senses at last; and even if the hetman should not collect a great force, he will annoy the Turk with attacks."

"Ketling! as it seems to me, our hour has not struck yet."

"It is in the power of God, but it seems to me also that it will not come to that."

"Even if some one has fallen, such as Pan Mushalski. Well, there is no help for it! I am terribly sorry for Mushalski, though he died a hero's death."

"May God grant us no worse one, if only not soon! for I confess to you, Michael, I should be sorry for – Krysia."

"Yes, and I too for Basia; we will work earnestly, and maybe there is mercy above us. I am very glad in soul for some reason. We must do a notable deed to-morrow as well."

"The Turks have made protections of plank. I have thought of a method used in burning ships; the rags are now steeping in tar, so that to-morrow before noon we will burn all those works."

"Ah!" said the little knight, "then I will lead a sortie. During the fire there will be confusion in every case, and it will not enter their heads that there can be a sortie in daylight. To-morrow may be better than to-day, Ketling."

Thus did they converse with swelling hearts, and then went to rest, for they were greatly wearied. But the little knight had not slept three hours when Lusnia roused him.

"Pan Commandant," said the sergeant, "we have news."

"What is it?" cried the watchful soldier, springing up in one moment.

"Pan Mushalski is here."

"For God's sake! what do you tell me?"

"He is here. I was standing at the breach, and heard some one calling from the other side in Polish, 'Do not fire; it is I.' I looked; there was Pan Mushalski coming back dressed as a janissary."

"Praise be to God!" said the little knight; and he sprang up to greet the bowman.

It was dawning already. Pan Mushalski was standing outside the wall in a white cap and armor, so much like a real janissary that one's eyes were slow in belief. Seeing the little knight, he hurried to him, and began to greet him joyously.

"We have mourned over you already!" cried Volodyovski.

With that a number of other officers ran up, among them Ketling. All were amazed beyond description, and interrupted one another asking how he came to be in Turkish disguise.

"I stumbled," said he, "over the body of a janissary when I was returning, and struck my head against a cannon-ball; though I had a cap bound with wire, I lost consciousness at once. My head was tender after that blow which I got from Hamdi Bey. When I came to myself I was lying on a dead janissary, as on a bed. I felt my head; it was a trifle sore, but there was not even a lump on it. I took off my cap; the rain cooled my head, and I thought: 'This is well for us. It would be a good plan to take that janissary's uniform, and stroll among the Turks. I speak their tongue as well as Polish, and no one could discover me by my speech; my face is not different from that of a janissary. I will go and listen to their talk.' Fear seized me at times, for I remembered my former captivity; but I went. The night was dark; there was barely a light here and there. I tell you, gentlemen, I went among them as if they had been my own people. Many of them were lying in trenches under cover; I went to them. This and that one asked, 'Why are you strolling about?' 'Because I cannot sleep,' answered I. Others were talking in crowds about the siege. There is great consternation. I heard with my own ears how they complained of our Hreptyoff commandant here present," at this Pan Mushalski bowed to Volodyovski. "I repeat their ipsissima verba" (very words), "because an enemy's blame is the highest praise. 'While that little dog,' said they, thus did the dog brothers call your grace, – 'while that little dog defends the castle, we shall not capture it.' Others said, 'Bullets and iron do not harm him; but death blows from him as from a pestilence.' Then all in the crowd began to complain: 'We alone fight,' said they, 'and other troops are doing nothing; the volunteers 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 clear that we are not over-dear to him, since he sends us here to the shambles. We will hold out,' said they, 'but not long; then we will go back to Hotin, and if they do not let us go, some lofty heads may fall.'"

"Do you hear, gracious gentlemen?" cried Volodyovski. "When the janissaries mutiny, the Sultan will be frightened, and raise the siege."

"As God is dear to me, I tell the pure truth," said Mushalski. "Rebellion is easy among the janissaries, and they are very much dissatisfied. I think that they will try one or two storms more, and then will gnash their teeth at their aga, the kaimakan, or even the Sultan himself."

"So it will be," cried the officers.

"Let them try twelve storms; we are ready," said others.

They rattled their sabres and looked with bloodshot eyes at the trenches, while drawing deep breaths; hearing this, the little knight whispered with enthusiasm to Ketling, "A new Zbaraj! a new Zbaraj!"

But Pan Mushalski began again: "I have told you what I heard. I was sorry to leave them, for I might have heard more; but I was afraid that daylight might catch me. I went then to those trenches from which they were not firing; I did this so as to slip by in the dark. I look; I see no regular sentries, only groups of janissaries strolling, as everywhere. I go to a frowning gun; no one says anything. You know that I took spikes for the cannon. I push a spike into the priming quickly; it won't go in, – it needs a blow from a hammer. But since the Lord God gave some strength to my hand (you have seen my experiments more than once), I pressed the spike; it squeaked a little, but went in to the head. I was terribly glad."

"As God lives! did you do that? Did you spike the great cannon?" asked men on every side.

"I spiked that and another, for the work went so easily that I was sorry to leave it; and I went to another gun. My hand is a little sore, but the spike went in."

"Gracious gentlemen," cried Pan Michael, "no one here has done greater things; no one has covered himself with such glory. Vivat Pan Mushalski!"

"Vivat! vivat!" repeated the officers.

After the officers the soldiers began to shout. The Turks in their trenches heard those shouts, and were alarmed; their courage fell the more. But the bowman, full of joy, bowed to the officers, and showed his mighty palm, which was like a shovel; on it were two blue spots. "True, as God lives! you have the witness here," said he.

"We believe!" cried all. "Praise be to God that you came back in safety!"

"I passed through the planking," continued the bowman. "I wanted to burn that work; but I had nothing to do it with."

"Do you know, Michael," cried Ketling, "my rags are ready. I am beginning to think of that planking. Let them know that we attack first."

"Begin! begin!" cried Pan Michael.

He rushed himself to the arsenal, and sent fresh news to the town: "Pan Mushalski was not killed in the sortie, for he has returned, after spiking two heavy guns. He was among the janissaries, who think of rebelling. In an hour we shall burn their woodworks; and if it be possible to make at the same time a sortie, I will make it."

The messenger had not crossed the bridge when the walls were trembling from the roar of cannon. This time the castle began the thundering dialogue. In the pale light of the morning the flaming rags flew like blazing banners, and fell on the woodwork. The moisture with which the night rain had covered the wood helped nothing. Soon the timbers caught fire, and were burning. After the rags Ketling hurled bombs. The wearied crowds of janissaries left the trenches in the first moments. They did not play the kindya. The vizir himself appeared at the head of new legions; but evidently doubt had crept even into his heart, for the pashas heard how he muttered, —