The Deluge. Vol. 1

Then this thought came to him: "And shall I write to her too? The messenger who will take the letter to the hetman can give a slip of paper to her secretly. Why not inform her that I have broken with the Radzivills, and that I am going to seek other service?"

This thought struck his heart greatly. Cutting his arm again, he moistened the pen and began to write, -

Olenka, – I am no longer on the Radzivill side, for I have seen through them at last-

But suddenly he stopped, thought awhile, and said to himself, "Let deeds, not words, bear witness for me henceforth; I will not write." And he tore the paper. But he wrote on a third sheet a short letter to Volodyovski in the following words, -

Gracious Colonel, – The undersigned friend warns you and the other colonels to be on your guard. There were letters from the hetman to Prince Boguslav and Pan Harasimovich to poison you, or to have men under you in your own quarters. Harasimovich is absent, for he has gone with Prince Boguslav to Tyltsa in Prussia; but there may be similar commands to other managers. Be careful of those managers, receive nothing from them, and at night do not sleep without guards. I know also to a certainty that the hetman will march against you soon with an army; he is waiting only for cavalry which General de la Gardie is to send, fifteen hundred in number. See to it, therefore, that he does not fall upon you and destroy you singly. But better send reliable men to the voevoda of Vityebsk to come, with all haste and take chief command. A well-wisher counsels this, – believe him. Meanwhile keep together, choosing quarters for the squadrons one not far from the other, so that you may be able to give mutual assistance. The hetman has few cavalry, only a small number of dragoons, and Kmita's men, but they are not reliable. Kmita himself is absent. The hetman found some other office for him; it being likely that he does not trust him. Kmita too is not such a traitor as men say; he is merely led astray. I commit you to God.

Babinich.

Pan Andrei did not wish to put his own name to the letter, for he judged that it would rouse in each one aversion and especially distrust. "In case they understand," thought he, "that it would be better for them to retreat before the hetman than to meet him in a body, they will suspect at once, if they see my name, that I wish to collect them, so that the hetman may finish them at a blow; they will think this a new trick, but from some Babinich they will receive warning more readily."

Pan Andrei called himself Babinich from the village Babiniche, near Orsha, which from remote times belonged to the Kmitas.

When he had written the letter, at the end of which he placed a few timid words in his own defence, he felt new solace in his heart at the thought that with that letter he had rendered the first service, not only to Volodyovski and his friends, but to all the colonels who would not desert their country for Radzivill. He felt also that that thread would go farther. The plight into which he had fallen was difficult, indeed, almost desperate; but still there was some help, some issue, some narrow path which would lead to the highroad.

But now when Olenka in all probability was safe from the vengeance of Radzivill, and the confederates from an unexpected attack. Pan Andrei put the question, What was he to do himself?

He had broken with traitors, he had burned the bridges in the rear, he wished now to serve his country, to devote to it his strength, his health, his life; but how was he to do this, how begin, to what could he put his hand?

Again it came to his head to join the confederates; but if they will not receive him, if they will proclaim him a traitor and cut him down, or what is worse, expel him in disgrace?

"I would rather they killed me!" cried Pan Andrei; and he flushed from shame and the feeling of his own disgrace. Perhaps it is easier to save Olenka or the confederates than his own fame.

Now the position was really desperate, and again the young hero's soul began to seethe.

"But can I not act as I did against Hovanski?" asked he of himself. "I will gather a party, will attack the Swedes, burn, pursue. That is nothing new for me! No one has resisted them; I will resist until the time comes when the whole Commonwealth will ask, as did Lithuania, who is that hero who all alone dares to creep into the mouth of the lion? Then I will remove my cap and say, 'See, it is I, it is Kmita!'"

And such a burning desire drew him on to that bloody work that he wished to rush out of the room and order the Kyemliches, their attendants, and his own men to mount and move on. But before he reached the door he felt as if some one had suddenly punched him in the breast and pushed him back from the threshold. He stood in the middle of the room, and looked forward in amazement.

"How is this? Shall I not efface my offences in this way?"

And at once he began to reckon with his own conscience.

"Where is atonement for guilt?" asked his conscience. "Here something else is required!"

"What?" asked Kmita.

"With what can thy guilt be effaced, if not with service of some kind, difficult and immense, honorable and pure as a tear? Is it service to collect a band of ruffians and rage like a whirlwind with them through the fields and the wilderness? Dost thou not desire this because fighting has for thee a sweet odor, as has roast meat for a dog? That is amusement, not service; a carnival, not war; robbery, not defence of the country! And didst thou not do the same against Hovanski, but what didst thou gain? Ruffians infesting the forests are ready also to attack the Swedish commands, and whence canst thou get other men? Thou wilt attack the Swedes, but also the inhabitants; thou wilt bring vengeance on these inhabitants, and what wilt thou effect? Thou art trying to escape, thou fool, from toil and atonement."

So conscience spoke in Kmita; and Kmita saw that it was right, and vexation seized him, and a species of grief over his own conscience because it spoke such bitter truth.

"What shall I begin?" asked he, at last; "who will help me, who will save me?"

Here somehow his knees began to bend till at last he knelt down at the plank bed and began to pray aloud, and implore from his whole soul and heart, -

"O Jesus Christ, dear Lord," said he, "as on the cross thou hadst pity for the thief, so now have pity for me. Behold I desire to cleanse myself from sins, to begin a new life, and to serve my country honestly; but I know not how, for I am foolish. I served those traitors, O Lord, also not so much from malice, but especially as it were through folly; enlighten me, inspire me, comfort me in my despair, and rescue me in thy mercy, or I perish."

Here Pan Andrei's voice quivered; he beat his broad breast till it thundered in the room, and repeated, "Be merciful to me, a sinner! be merciful to me, a sinner! Be merciful to me, a sinner!" Then placing his hands together and stretching them upward, he said, "And thou, Most Holy Lady, insulted by heretics in this land, take my part with thy Son, intercede for my rescue, desert me not in my suffering and misery, so that I may be able to serve thee, to avenge the insults against thee, and at the hour of my death have thee as a patroness for my unhappy soul."

When Pan Andrei was imploring thus, tears began to fall from his eyes; at last he dropped his head on the plank bed and sank into silence, as if waiting for the effect of his ardent prayer. Silence followed in the room, and only the deep sound of the neighboring pine-trees entered from outside. Then chips crackled under heavy steps beyond the window, and two men began to speak, -

"What do you think, Sergeant? Where shall we go from here?"

"Do I know?" answered Soroka. "We shall go somewhere, maybe far off, to the king who is groaning under the Swedish hand."

"Is it true that all have left him?"

"But the Lord God has not left him."

Kmita rose suddenly from the bed, but his face was clear and calm; he went straight to the door, and opening it said to the soldier, -

"Have the horses ready! it is time for the road!"

CHAPTER XXX

A movement rose quickly among the soldiers, who were glad to go out of the forest to the distant world, all the more since they feared pursuit on the part of Boguslav Radzivill; and old Kyemlich went to the cabin, understanding that Kmita would need him.

"Does your grace wish to go?" asked he.

"I do. Will you guide me out of the forest? Do you know all the roads?"

"I know all the roads in these parts. But whither does your grace wish to go?"

"To our gracious king."

The old man started back in astonishment. "O Wise Lady!" cried he. "To what king."

"Not to the Swedish, you may be sure."

Kyemlich not only failed to recover, but began to make the sign of the cross.

"Then surely your grace does not know that people say our lord the king has taken refuge in Silesia, for all have deserted him. Cracow is besieged."

"We will go to Silesia."

"Well, but how are we to pass through the Swedes?"

"Whether we pass through as nobles or peasants, on horseback or on foot, is all one to me, if only we pass."

"Then too a tremendous lot of time is needed."

"We have time enough, but I should be glad to go as quickly as possible."

Kyemlich ceased to wonder. The old man was too cunning not to surmise that there was some particular and secret cause for this undertaking of Pan Kmita's, and that moment a thousand suppositions began to crowd into his head. But as the soldiers, on whom Pan Andrei had enjoined silence, said nothing to the old man or his sons about the seizure of Prince Boguslav, the supposition seemed to him most likely that the prince voevoda of Vilna had sent the young colonel on some mission to the king. He was confirmed in this opinion specially because he counted Kmita a zealous adherent of Prince Yanush, and knew of his services to the hetman; for the confederate squadrons had spread tidings of him throughout the whole province of Podlyasye, creating the opinion that Kmita was a tyrant and a traitor.

"The hetman is sending a confidant to the king," thought the old man; "that means that surely he wishes to agree with him and leave the Swedes. Their rule must be bitter to him already, else why send?"

Old Kyemlich did not struggle long over this question, for his interest in the matter was altogether different; and namely, what profit could he draw from such circumstances? If he served Kmita he would serve at the same time the hetman and the king, which would not be without a notable reward. The favor of such lords would be of service, too, should he be summoned to account for old sins. Besides, there will surely be war, the country will flame up, and then plunder will crawl of itself into his hands. All this smiled at the old man, who besides was accustomed to obey Kmita, and had not ceased to fear him like fire, cherishing toward him also a certain kind of love, which Kmita knew how to rouse in all his subordinates.

"Your grace," said he, "must go through the whole Commonwealth to reach the king. Swedish troops are nothing, for we may avoid the towns and go through the woods; but the worst is that the woods, as is usual in unquiet times, are full of parties of freebooters, who fall upon travellers; and your grace has few men."

"You will go with me, Pan Kyemlich, and your sons and the men whom you have; there will be more of us."

"If your grace commands I will go, but I am a poor man. Only misery with us; nothing more. How can I leave even this poverty and the roof over my head?"

"Whatever you do will be paid for; and for you it is better to take your head out of this place while it is yet on your shoulders."

"All the Saints of the Lord! What does your grace say? How is that? What threatens me, innocent man, in this place? Whom do we hinder?"

"I know you robbers!" answered Pan Andrei. "You had partnership with Kopystynski, and killed him; then you ran away from the courts, you served with me, you took away my captured horses.

"As true as life! O Mighty Lady!" cried the old man.

"Wait and be silent! Then you returned to your old lair, and began to ravage in the neighborhood like robbers, taking horses and booty everywhere. Do not deny it, for I am not your judge, and you know best whether I tell the truth. If you take the horses of Zolotarenko, that is well; if the horses of the Swedes, that is well. If they catch you they will flay you; but that is their affair."

"True, true; but we take only from the enemy," said the old man.

"Untrue; for you attack your own people, as your sons have confessed to me, and that is simple robbery, and a stain on the name of a noble. Shame on you, robbers! you should be peasants, not nobles."

"Your grace wrongs us," said old fox, growing red, "for we, remembering our station, do no peasant deed. We do not take horses at night from any man's stable. It is something different to drive a herd from the fields, or to capture horses. This is permitted, and there is no prejudice to a noble therefrom in time of war. But a horse in a stable is sacred; and only a gypsy, a Jew, or a peasant would steal from a stable, – not a noble. We, your grace, do not do that. But war is war!"

"Though there were ten wars, only in battle can plunder be taken; if you seek it on the road, you are robbers."

"God is witness to our innocence."

"But you have brewed beer here. In few words, it is better for you to leave this place, for sooner or later the halter will take you. Come with me; you will wash away your sins with faithful service and win honor. I will receive you to my service, in which there will be more profit than in those horses."

"We will go with your grace everywhere; we will guide you through the Swedes and through the robbers, – for true is the speech of your grace, that evil people persecute us here terribly, and for what? For our poverty, – for nothing but our poverty. Perhaps God will take pity on us, and save us from suffering."

Here old Kyemlich rubbed his hands mechanically, and his eyes glittered. "From these works," thought he, "it will boil in the country as in a kettle, and foolish the man who takes no advantage."

Kmita looked at him quickly. "Only don't try to betray me!" said he, threateningly, "for you will not be able, and the hand of God only could save you."

"We have never betrayed," answered Kyemlich, gloomily, "and may God condemn me if such a thought entered my head."

"I believe you," said Kmita, after a short silence, "for treason is something different from robbery; no robber will betray."

"What does your grace command now?" asked Kyemlich.

"First, here are two letters, requiring quick delivery. Have you sharp men?"

"Where must they go?"

"Let one go to the prince voevoda, but without seeing Radzivill himself. Let him deliver the letter in the first squadron of the prince, and come back without awaiting an answer."

"The pitch-maker will go; he is a sharp man and experienced."

"He will do. The second letter must be taken to Podlyasye; inquire for Pan Volodyovski's Lauda squadron, and give it into the hands of the colonel himself."

The old man began to mutter cunningly, and thought, "I see work on every side; since he is sniffing with the confederates there will be boiling water, – there will be, there will be!"

"Your grace," said he, aloud, "if there is not such a hurry with this letter, when we leave the forest it perhaps might be given to some man on the road. There are many nobles here friendly to the confederates; any one would take it willingly, and one man more would remain to us."

"You have calculated shrewdly," answered Kmita, "for it is better that he who delivers the letter should not know from whom he takes it. Shall we go out of the forest soon?"

"As your grace wishes. We can go out in two weeks, or to-morrow."

"Of that later; but now listen to me carefully, Kyemlich."

"I am attending with all my mind, your grace."

"They have denounced me in the whole Commonwealth as a tyrant, as devoted to the hetman, or altogether to Sweden. If the king knew who I am, he might not trust me, and might despise my intention, which, if it is not sincere, God sees! Are you attending, Kyemlich?"

"I am, your grace."

"Therefore I do not call myself Kmita, but, Babinich, do you understand? No one must know my real name. Open not your lips; let not a breath out. If men ask whence I come, say that you joined me on the road and do not know, but say, 'Whoso is curious, let him ask the man himself.'"

"I understand, your grace."

"Warn your sons, and also your men. Even if straps were cut out of them, they must say my name is Babinich. You will answer for this with your life."

"It will be so, your grace. I will go and tell my sons, for it is necessary to put everything into the heads of those rogues with a shovel. Such is the joy I have with them. God has punished me for the sins of my youth; that is the trouble. Let me say another word, your grace."

"Speak boldly."

"It seems to me better not to tell soldiers or men where we are going."

"That is true."

"It is enough for them to know that Babinich, not Pan Kmita, is travelling. And on such a journey it is better to conceal your grace's rank."

"Why?"

"Because the Swedes give passes to the more considerable people; and whoso has not a pass, him they take to the commandant."

"I have passes to the Swedish troops."

Astonishment gleamed in the cunning eyes of Kyemlich; but after a while he asked, "Will your grace let me say once more what I think?"

"If you give good counsel and delay not, speak; for I see that you are a clever man."

"If you have passes, it is better, for in need they may be shown; but if your grace is travelling on an errand that should remain secret, it is safer not to show the passes. I know not whether they are given in the name of Babinich or Kmita; but if you show them, the trace will remain and pursuit will be easier."

"You have struck the point!" cried Kmita. "I prefer to reserve the passes for another time, if it is possible to go through without them."

"It is possible, your grace; and that disguised either as a peasant or a petty noble, – which will be easier, for I have some clean clothes, a cap and gray coat, for example, just such as petty nobles wear. We may travel with a band of horses, as if we were going to the fairs, and drive farther till we come to Lovich and Warsaw, as I have done more than once during peace, and I know the roads. About this time there is a fair in Sobota, to which people come from afar. In Sobota we shall learn of other places where there are fairs, and so on. The Swedes too take less note of small nobles, for crowds of them stroll about at all the fairs. If some commandant inquires we will explain ourselves, but if a small party asks we will gallop over their bellies, God and the Most Holy Lady permitting."

"But if they take our horses? Requisitions in time of war are of daily occurrence."

"Either they will buy or they will take them. If they buy we will go to Sobota, not to sell, but to buy horses; and if they take them, we will raise a lament and go with our complaint to Warsaw and to Cracow."

"You have a cunning mind," said Kmita, "and I see that you will serve me. Even if the Swedes take these horses, some man will be found to pay for them."

"I was going to Elko in Prussia with them; this turns out well, for just in that direction does our road lie. From Elko we will go along the boundary, then turn to Ostrolenko, thence through the wilderness to Pultusk and to Warsaw."

"Where is that Sobota?"24

"Not far from Pyantek."25

"Are you jesting, Kyemlich?"

"How should I dare," answered the old man, crossing his arms on his breast and bending his head; "but they have such wonderful names for towns in this region. It is a good bit of road beyond Lovich, your grace."

"Are there large fairs in that Sobota?"

"Not such as in Lovich; but there is one at this time of year, to which horses are driven from Prussia, and crowds of people assemble. Surely it will not be worse this year, for it is quiet about there. The Swedes are in power everywhere, and have garrisons in the towns. Even if a man wanted to rise against them, he could not."

"Then I will take your plan. We will go with horses, and that you suffer no loss I will pay for them in advance."

"I thank your grace for the rescue."

"Only get sheepskin coats ready and common saddles and sabres, for we will start at once. Tell your sons and men who I am, what my name is, that I am travelling with horses, that you and they are hired assistants. Hurry!"

When the old man turned to the door, Pan Andrei said further, "No one will call me grace nor commandant nor colonel, only you and Babinich."

Kyemlich went out, and an hour later all were sitting on their horses ready to start on the long journey. Kmita dressed in the gray coat of a poor noble, a cap of worn sheepskin, and with a bandaged face, as if after a duel in some inn, was difficult of recognition, and looked really like some poor devil of a noble, strolling from one fair to another. He was surrounded by people dressed in like fashion, armed with common poor sabres, with long whips to drive the horses, and lariats to catch those that might try to escape.

The soldiers looked with astonishment at their colonel, making various remarks, in low tones, concerning him. It was a wonder to them that he was Babinich instead of Pan Kmita, that they were to say you to him; and most of all shrugged his shoulders old Soroka, who, looking at the terrible colonel as at a rainbow, muttered to Biloüs, -

"That you will not pass my throat. Let him kill me, but I will give him, as of old, what belongs to him."

The soldiers knew not that the soul in Pan Andrei had changed as well as his external form.

"Move on!" cried Babinich, on a sudden.

The whips cracked; the riders surrounded the horses, which were huddled together, and they moved on.

CHAPTER XXXI

Passing along the very boundary between the province of Trotsk and Prussia, they travelled through broad and pathless forests known only to Kyemlich, until they entered Prussia and reached Leng, or, as old Kyemlich, called it, Elko, where they got news of public affairs from nobles stopping there, who, taking their wives, children, and effects, had fled from the Swedes and sought refuge under the power of the elector.

Leng had the look of a camp, or rather it might be thought that some petty diet was in session there. The nobles drank Prussian beer in the public houses, and talked, while every now and then some one brought news. Without making inquiries and merely by listening with care, Babinich learned that Royal Prussia and the chief towns in it had taken decisively the side of Yan Kazimir, and had made a treaty of mutual defence with the elector against every enemy. It was said, however, that in spite of the treaty the most considerable towns were unwilling to admit the elector's garrisons, fearing lest that adroit prince, when he had once entered with armed hand, might hold them for good, or might in the decisive moment join himself treacherously to the Swedes, – a deed which his inborn cunning made him capable of doing.

The nobles murmured against this distrust entertained by townspeople; but Pan Andrei, knowing the Radzivill intrigues with the elector, had to gnaw his tongue to refrain from telling what was known to him. He was held back by the thought that it was dangerous in Electoral Prussia to speak openly against the elector; and secondly, because it did not beseem a small gray-coated noble who was going to a fair with horses, to enter into the intricate subject of politics, over which the ablest statesmen were racking their brains to no purpose.

He sold a pair of horses, bought new ones, and journeyed farther, along the Prussian boundary, but by the road leading from Leng to Shchuchyn, situated in the very corner of the province of Mazovia, between Prussia on the one side and the province of Podlyasye on the other. To Shchuchyn Pan Andrei had no wish to go, for he learned that in that town were the quarters of the confederate squadron commanded by Volodyovski.

Volodyovski must have passed over almost the same road on which Kmita was travelling, and stopped before the very boundary of Podlyasye, either for a short rest or for temporary quarters, in Shchuchyn, where it must have been easier to find food for men and horses than in greatly plundered Podlyasye.