The Deluge. Vol. 1

"Two quarters? Then it is not genuine, but a splendid counterfeit. Show it."

"Take it, your grace."

"Can you not move yourself? Must I go?"

"I am terribly tired."

"Ah, brother, a man would say that you are trying to hide your face."

Hearing this, Yuzva said not a word, but approached the chimney, took out a burning brand, and holding it high above his head, went straight toward Kmita and held the light before his eyes.

Kmita rose in an instant to his whole height, and during one wink of an eyelid they looked at each other eye to eye. Suddenly the brand fell from the hand of Yuzva, scattering a thousand sparks on the way.

"Jesus, Mary!" screamed Butrym, "this is Kmita!"

"I am he!" said Pan Andrei, seeing that there were no further means of concealment.

"This way, this way! Seize him!" shouted Yuzva to the soldiers who had remained outside. Then turning to Pan Andrei, he said, -

"Thou art he, O hell-dweller, traitor! Thou art that Satan in person! Once thou didst slip from my hands, and now thou art hurrying in disguise to the Swedes. Thou art that Judas, that torturer of women and men! I have thee!"

So saying, he seized Pan Andrei by the shoulder; but Pan Andrei seized him. First, however, the two young Kyemliches, Kosma and Damian, had risen from the bench, almost touching the ceiling with their bushy heads, and Kosma asked, -

"Shall we pound, father?"

"Pound!" answered old Kyemlich, unsheathing his sabre.

The doors burst open, and Yuzva's soldiers rushed in; but behind them, almost on their necks, came Kyemlich's men.

Yuzva caught Pan Andrei by the shoulder, and in his right hand held a naked rapier, making a whirlwind and lightning with it around himself. But Pan Andrei, though he had not the gigantic strength of his enemy, seized Butrym's throat as if in a vice. Yuzva's eyes were coming out; he tried to stun Kmita with the hilt of his rapier, but did not succeed, for Kmita thundered first on his forehead with the hilt of his sabre. Yuzva's fingers, holding the shoulder of his opponent, opened at once; he tottered and bent backward under the blow. To make room for a second blow, Kmita pushed him again, and slashed him with full sweep on the face with his sabre. Yuzva fell on his back like an oak-tree, striking the floor with his skull.

"Strike!" cried Kmita, in whom was roused, in one moment, the old fighting spirit.

But he had no need to urge, for it was boiling in the room, as in a pot. The two young Kyemliches slashed with their sabres, and at times butted with their heads, like a pair of bullocks, putting down a man with each blow; after them advanced their old father, bending every moment to the floor, half closing his eyes, and thrusting quickly the point of his weapon under the arms of his sons.

But Soroka, accustomed to fighting in inns and close quarters, spread the greatest destruction. He pressed his opponents so sorely that they could not reach him with a blade; and when he had discharged his pistols in the crowd, he smashed heads with the butts of the pistols, crushing noses, knocking out teeth and eyes. Kyemlich's servants and Kmita's two soldiers aided their masters.

The fight moved from the table to the upper end of the room. The Lauda men defended themselves with rage; but from the moment that Kmita, having finished Yuzva, sprang into the fight and stretched out another Butrym, the victory began to incline to his side.

Jendzian's servants also sprang into the room with sabres and guns; but though their master cried, "Strike!" they were at a loss what to do, for they could not distinguish one side from the other, since the Lauda men wore no uniforms, and in the disturbance the starosta's young men were punished by both sides.

Jendzian held himself carefully outside the battle, wishing to recognize Kmita, and point him out for a shot; but by the faint light of the fire Kmita vanished time after time from his eye, – at one instant springing to view as red as a devil, then again lost in darkness.

Resistance on the part of the Lauda men grew weaker and weaker, for the fall of Yuzva and the terrible name of Kmita had lessened their courage; still they fought on with rage. Meanwhile the innkeeper went past the strugglers quietly with a bucket of water in his hand and dashed it on the fire. In the room followed black darkness; the strugglers gathered into such a dense crowd that they could strike with fists only; after a while cries ceased; only panting breaths could be heard, and the orderless stamp of boots. Through the door, then flung open, sprang first Jendzian's people, after them the Lauda men, then Kmita's attendants.

Pursuit began in the first room, in the bins before the house, and in the shed. Some shots were heard; then uproar and the noise of horses. A battle began at Jendzian's wagons, under which his people hid themselves; the Lauda men too sought refuge there, and Jendzian's people, taking them for the other party, fired at them a number of times.

"Surrender!" cried old Kyemlich, thrusting the point of his sabre between the spokes of the wagon and stabbing at random the men crouched beneath.

"Stop! we surrender!" answered a number of voices.

Then the people from Vansosh threw from under the wagon their sabres and guns; after that the young Kyemliches began to drag them out by the hair, till the old man cried, -

"To the wagons! take what comes under your hands! Quick! quick! to the wagons!"

The young men did not let the command be given thrice, but rushed to untie the coverings, from beneath which the swollen sides of Jendzian's sacks appeared. They had begun to throw out the sacks, when suddenly Kmita's voice thundered, -

"Stop!"

And Kmita, supporting his command by his hand, fell to slashing them with the flat of his bloody sabre.

Kosma and Damian sprang quickly aside.

"Cannot we take them, your grace?" asked the old man, submissively.

"Stand back!" cried Kmita. "Find the starosta for me."

Kosma and Damian rushed to the search in a moment, and behind them their father; in a quarter of an hour they came bringing Jendzian, who, when he saw Kmita, bowed low and said, -

"With the permission of your grace, I will say that wrong is done me here, for I did not attack any man, and to visit acquaintances, as I am going to do, is free to all."

Kmita, resting on his sabre, breathed heavily and was silent; Jendzian continued, -

"I did no harm here either to the Swedes or the prince hetman. I was only going to Pan Volodyovski, my old acquaintance; we campaigned together in Russia. Why should I seek a quarrel? I have not been in Kyedani, and what took place there is nothing to me. I am trying to carry off a sound skin; and what God has given me should not be lost, for I did not steal it, but earned it in the sweat of my brow. I have nothing to do with this whole question! Let me go free, your great mightiness-"

Kmita breathed heavily, looking absently at Jendzian all the time.

"I beg humbly, your great mightiness," began the starosta again. "Your great mightiness saw that I did not know those people, and was not a friend of theirs. They fell upon your grace, and now they have their pay; but why should I be made to suffer? Why should my property be lost? How am I to blame? If it cannot be otherwise, I will pay a ransom to the soldiers of your great mightiness, though there is not much remaining to me, poor man. I will give them a thaler apiece, so that their labor be not lost, – I will give them two; and your great mightiness will receive from me also-"

"Cover the wagons!" cried Kmita, suddenly. "But do you take the wounded men and go to the devil!"

"I thank your grace humbly," said the lord tenant of Vansosh.

Then old Kyemlich approached, pushing out his underlip with the remnants of his teeth, and groaning, -

"Your grace, that is ours. Mirror of justice, that is ours."

But Kmita gave him such a look that the old man cowered, and dared not utter another word.

Jendzian's people rushed, with what breath they had, to put the horses to the wagons. Kmita turned again to the lord starosta, -

"Take all the wounded and killed, carry them to Pan Volodyovski, and tell him from me that I am not his enemy, but may be a better friend than he thinks. I wish to avoid him, for it is not yet time for us to meet. Perhaps that time will come later; but to-day he would neither believe me, nor have I that wherewith to convince him, – perhaps later-Do you understand? Tell him that those people fell upon me and I had to defend myself."

"In truth it was so," responded Jendzian.

"Wait; tell Pan Volodyovski, besides, to keep the troops together, for Radzivill, the moment he receives cavalry from Pontus de la Gardie, will move on them. Perhaps now he is on the road. Yanush and Boguslav Radzivill are intriguing with the Elector of Brandenburg, and it is dangerous to be near the boundary. But above all, let them keep together, or they will perish for nothing. The voevoda of Vityebsk wishes to come to Podlyasye; let them go to meet him, so as to give aid in case of obstruction."

"I will tell everything, as if I were paid for it."

"Though Kmita says this, though Kmita gives warning, let them believe him, take counsel with other colonels, and consider that they will be stronger together. I repeat that the hetman is already on the road, and I am not an enemy of Pan Volodyovski."

"If I had some sign from your grace, that would be still better," said Jendzian.

"What good is a sign?"

"Pan Volodyovski would straightway have greater belief in your grace's sincerity; would think, 'There must be something in what he says if he has sent a sign.'"

"Then here is the ring; though there is no lack of signs of me on the heads of those men whom you are taking to Pan Volodyovski."

Kmita drew the ring from his finger. Jendzian on his part took it hastily, and said, -

"I thank your grace humbly."

An hour later, Jendzian with his wagons and his people, a little shaken up however, rode forward quietly toward Shchuchyn, taking three killed and the rest wounded, among whom were Yuzva Butrym, with a cut face and a broken head. As he rode along Jendzian looked at the ring, in which the stone glittered wonderfully in the moonlight, and he thought of that strange and terrible man, who having caused so much harm to the confederates and so much good to the Swedes and Radzivill, still wished apparently to save the confederates from final ruin.

"For he gives sincere advice," said Jendzian to himself. "It is always better to hold together. But why does he forewarn? Is it from love of Volodyovski, because the latter gave him his life in Billeviche? It must be from love! Yes, but that love may come out with evil result for the hetman. Kmita is a strange man; he serves Radzivill, wishes well to our people, and is going to the Swedes; I do not understand this." After a while he added: "He is a bountiful lord; but it is evil to come in his way."

As earnestly and vainly as Jendzian, did old Kyemlich rack his brain in effort to find an answer to the query, "Whom does Pan Kmita serve?"

"He is going to the king, and kills the confederates, who are fighting specially on the king's side. What is this? And he does not trust the Swedes, for he hides from them. What will happen to us?"

Not being able to arrive at any conclusion, he turned in rage to his sons: "Rascals! You will perish without blessing! And you could not even pull away a little from the slain?"

"We were afraid!" answered Kosma and Damian.

Soroka alone was satisfied, and he clattered joyously after his colonel.

"Evil fate has missed us," thought he, "for we killed those fellows. I'm curious to know whom we shall kill next time."

And it was all one to him, as was also this, – whither he was faring.

No one dared approach Kmita or ask him anything, for the young colonel was as gloomy as night. He grieved terribly that he had to kill those men, at the side of whom he would have been glad to stand as quickly as possible in the ranks. But if he had yielded and let himself be taken to Volodyovski, what would Volodyovski have thought on learning that he was seized making his way in disguise to the Swedes, and with passes to the Swedish commandants?

"My old sins are pursuing and following me," said Kmita to himself. "I will flee to the farthest place; and guide me, O God!"

He began to pray earnestly and to appease his conscience, which repeated, "Again corpses against thee, and not corpses of Swedes."

"O God, be merciful!" answered Kmita. "I am going to my king; there my service will begin."

CHAPTER XXXII

Jendzian had no intention of passing a night at "The Mandrake," for from Vansosh to Shchuchyn was not far, – he wanted merely to give rest to his horses, especially to those drawing the loaded wagons. Therefore, when Kmita let him travel farther, Jendzian lost no time, and entered Shchuchyn late in the evening. Having announced himself to the sentries, he took his place on the square; for the houses were occupied by soldiers, who even then were not all able to find lodgings. Shchuchyn passed for a town, but was not one in reality; for it had not yet even walls, a town hall, courts of justice, or the college of monks, founded in the time of King Yan III. It had a few houses, but a greater number of cabins than houses, and was called a town, because it was built in a quadrangular form with a market-place in the centre, slightly less swampy than the pond at which the paltry little place was situated.

Jendzian slept under his warm wolfskin till morning, and then went straight to Pan Volodyovski, who, as he had not seen him for an age, received him with gladness and took him at once to Pan Yan and Zagloba. Jendzian shed tears at sight of his former master, whom he had served faithfully so many years; and with whom he had passed through so many adventures and worked himself finally to fortune. Without shame of his former service, Jendzian began to kiss the hands of Pan Yan and repeat with emotion, -

"My master, my master, in what times do we meet again!"

Then all began in a chorus to complain of the times; at last Zagloba said, -

"But you, Jendzian, are always in the bosom of fortune, and as I see have come out a lord. Did I not prophesy that if you were not hanged you would have fortune? What is going on with you now?"

"My master, why hang me, when I have done nothing against God, nothing against the law? I have served faithfully; and if I have betrayed any man, he was an enemy, – which I consider a special service. And if I destroyed a scoundrel here and there by stratagem, as some one of the rebels, or that witch, – do you remember, my master? – that is not a sin; but even if it were a sin, it is my master's, not mine, for it was from you that I learned stratagems."

"Oh, that cannot be! See what he wants!" said Zagloba. "If you wish me to howl for your sins after death, give me their fruit during life. You are using alone all that wealth which you gained with the Cossacks, and alone you will be turned to roast bacon in hell."

"God is merciful, my master, though it is untrue that I use wealth for myself alone; for first I beggared our wicked neighbors with lawsuits, and took care of my parents, who are living now quietly in Jendziane, without any disputes, – for the Yavorskis have gone off with packs to beg, and I, at a distance, am earning my living as I can."

"Then you are not living in Jendziane?" asked Pan Yan.

"In Jendziane my parents live as of old, but I am living in Vansosh, and I cannot complain, for God has blessed me. But when I heard that all you gentlemen were in Shchuchyn, I could not sit still, for I thought to myself, 'Surely it is time to move again!' There is going to be war, let it come!"

"Own up," said Zagloba, "the Swedes frightened you out of Vansosh?"

"There are no Swedes yet in Vidzka, though small parties appear, and cautiously, for the peasants are terribly hostile."

"That is good news for me," said Volodyovski, "for yesterday I sent a party purposely to get an informant concerning the Swedes, for I did not know whether it was possible to stay in Shchuchyn with safety; surely that party conducted you hither?"

"That party? Me? I have conducted it, or rather I have brought it, for there is not even one man of that party who can sit on a horse alone."

"What do you say? What has happened?" inquired Volodyovski.

"They are terribly beaten!" explained Jendzian.

"Who beat them?"

"Pan Kmita."

The Skshetuskis and Zagloba sprang up from the benches, one interrupting the other in questioning, -

"Pan Kmita? But what was he doing here? Has the prince himself come already? Well! Tell right away what has happened."

Pan Volodyovski rushed out of the room to see with his eyes, to verify the extent of the misfortune, and to look at the men; therefore Jendzian said, -

"Why should I tell? Better wait till Pan Volodyovski comes back; for it is more his affair, and it is a pity to move the mouth twice to repeat the same story."

"Did you see Kmita with your own eyes?" asked Zagloba.

"As I see you, my master!"

"And spoke with him?"

"Why should I not speak with him, when we met at 'The Mandrake' not far from here? I was resting my horses, and he had stopped for the night. An hour would have been short for our talk. I complained of the Swedes, and he complained also of the Swedes-"

"Of the Swedes? He complained also?" asked Pan Yan.

"As of devils, though he was going among them."

"Had he many troops?"

"He had no troops, only a few attendants; true, they were armed, and had such snouts that even those men who slaughtered the Holy Innocents at Herod's command had not rougher or viler. He gave himself out as a small noble in pigskin boots, and said that he went with horses to the fairs. But though he had a number of horses, his story did not seem clear to me, for neither his person nor his bearing belonged to a horse-dealer, and I saw a fine ring on his finger, – this one." Here Jendzian held a glittering stone before the listeners.

Zagloba struck himself on the side and cried: "Ah, you gypsied that out of him! By that alone might I know you, Jendzian, at the end of the world!"

"With permission of my master, I did not gypsy it; for I am a noble, not a gypsy, and feel myself the equal of any man, though I live on rented lands till I settle on my own. This ring Pan Kmita gave as a token that what he said was true; and very soon I will repeat his words faithfully to your graces, for it seems to me that in this case our skins are in question."

"How is that?" asked Zagloba.

At this moment Volodyovski came in, roused to the utmost, and pale from anger; he threw his cap on the table and cried, -

"It passes imagination! Three men killed; Yuzva Butrym cut up, barely breathing!"

"Yuzva Butrym? He is a man with the strength of a bear!" said the astonished Zagloba.

"Before my eyes Pan Kmita stretched him out," put in Jendzian.

"I've had enough of that Kmita!" cried Volodyovski, beside himself; "wherever that man shows himself he leaves corpses behind, like the plague. Enough of this! Balance for balance, life for life; but now a new reckoning! He has killed my men, fallen upon good soldiers; that will be set to his account before our next meeting."

"He did not attack them, but they him; for he hid himself in the darkest corner, so they should not recognize him," explained Jendzian.

"And you, instead of giving aid to my men, testify in his favor!" said Volodyovski, in anger.

"I speak according to justice. As to aid, my men tried to give aid; but it was hard for them, for in the tumult they did not know whom to beat and whom to spare, and therefore they suffered. That I came away with my life and my sacks is due to the sense of Pan Kmita alone, for hear how it happened."

Jendzian began a detailed account of the battle in "The Mandrake," omitting nothing; and when at length he told what Kmita had commanded him to tell, they were all wonder fully astonished.

"Did he say that himself?" asked Zagloba.

"He himself," replied Jendzian. "'I,' said he, 'am not an enemy to Pan Volodyovski or the confederates, though they think differently. Later this will appear; but meanwhile let them come together, in God's name, or the voevoda of Vilna will take them one by one like lobsters from a net.'"

"And did he say that the voevoda was already on the march?" asked Tan Yan.

"He said that the voevoda was only waiting for Swedish reinforcements, and that he would move at once on Podlyasye."

"What do you think of all this, gentlemen?" asked Volodyovski, looking at his comrades.

"Either that man is betraying Radzivill, or he is preparing some ambush for us. But of what kind? He advises us to keep in a body. What harm to us may rise out of that?"

"To perish of hunger," answered Volodyovski. "I have just received news that Jyromski, Kotovski, and Lipnitski must dispose their cavalry in parties of some tens each over the whole province, for they cannot get forage together."

"But if Radzivill really does come," asked Pan Stanislav, "who can oppose him?"

No one could answer that question, for really it was as clear as the sun that if the grand hetman of Lithuania should come and find the confederates scattered, he could destroy them with the greatest ease.

"An astonishing thing!" repeated Zagloba; and after a moment's silence he continued: "Still I should think that he had abandoned Radzivill. But in such a case he would not be slipping past in disguise, and to whom, – to the Swedes." Here he turned to Jendzian: "Did he tell you that he was going to Warsaw?"

"He did."

"But the Swedish forces are there already."

"About this hour he must have met the Swedes, if he travelled all night," answered Jendzian.

"Have you ever seen such a man?" asked Zagloba, looking at his comrades.

"That there is in him evil with good, as tares with wheat, is certain," said Pan Yan; "but that there is any treason in this counsel that he gives us at present, I simply deny. I do not know whither he is going, why he is slipping past in disguise; and it would be idle to break my head over this, for it is some mystery. But he gives good advice, warns us sincerely: I will swear to that, as well as to this, – that the only salvation for us is to listen to his advice. Who knows if we are not indebted to him again, for safety and life?"

"For God's sake," cried Volodyovski, "how is Radzivill to come here when Zolotarenko's men and Hovanski's infantry are in his way? It is different in our case! One squadron may slip through, and even with one we had to open a way through Pilvishki with sabres. It is another thing with Kmita, who is slipping by with a few men; but when the prince hetman passes with a whole army? Either he will destroy those first-"

Volodyovski had not finished speaking when the door opened and an attendant came in.

"A messenger with a letter to the Colonel," said he.

"Bring it."

The attendant went out and returned in a moment with the letter. Pan Michael broke the seal quickly and read, -

That which I did not finish telling the tenant of Vansosh yesterday, I add to-day in writing. The hetman of himself has troops enough against you, but he is waiting for Swedish reinforcements, so as to go with the authority of the King of Sweden; for then if the Northerners26 attack him they will have to strike the Swedes too, and that would mean war with the King of Sweden. They will not venture to make war without orders, for they fear the Swedes, and will not take on themselves the responsibility of beginning a war. They have discovered that it is Radzivill's purpose to put the Swedes forward against them everywhere; let them shoot or cut down even one man, there would be war at once. The Northerners themselves know not what to do now, for Lithuania is given up to the Swedes; they stay therefore in one place, only waiting for what will be, and warring no further. For these reasons they do not restrain Radzivill, nor oppose him. He will go directly against you, and will destroy you one after the other, unless you collect in one body. For God's sake, do this, and beg the voevoda of Vityebsk to come quickly, since it is easier for him to reach you now through the Northerners while they stand as if stupefied. I wanted to warn you under another name, so that you might more easily believe, but because tidings are given you already from another, I write my own name. It is destruction if you do not believe. I am not now what I was, and God grant that you will hear something altogether different about me.