Fire in the Steppe

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  "Yes, yes! I have such a man too in mind, who by his name alone would terrify our neighbors. We need a military king, as was Stefan Batory. But farewell, cherished soldier! We need a military king. Do you repeat this to all. Farewell. God reward you for your readiness!"

  Pan Michael took farewell and went out. On the road he meditated. The soldier, however, was glad that he had before him a week or two, for that friendship and consolation which Krysia gave was dear to him. He was pleased also with the thought that he would return to the election, and in general he went home without suffering. The steppes too had for him a certain charm; he was pining for them without knowing it. He was so used to those spaces without end, in which the horseman feels himself more a bird than a man.

  "Well, I will go," said he, "to those measureless fields, to those stanitsas and mounds, to taste the old life again, make new campaigns with the soldiers, to guard those boundaries like a crane, to frolic in spring in the grass,—well, now, I will go, I will go!"

  Meanwhile he urged on the horse and went at a gallop, for he was yearning for the speed and the whistle of the wind in his ears. The day was clear, dry, frosty. Frozen snow covered the ground and squeaked under the feet of the horse. Compressed lumps of it flew with force from his hoofs. Pan Michael sped forward so that his attendant, sitting on an inferior horse remained far behind. It was near sunset; a little later twilight was in the heavens, casting a violet reflection on the snowy expanse. On the ruddy sky the first twinkling stars came out; the moon hung in the form of a silver sickle. The road was empty; the knight passed an odd wagon and flew on without interruption. Only when he saw Ketling's house in the distance did he rein in his horse and let his attendant come up. All at once he saw a slender figure coming toward him. It was Krysia.

  When he recognized her, Pan Michael sprang at once from his horse, which he gave to the attendant, and hurried up to the maiden, somewhat astonished, but still more delighted at sight of her. "Soldiers declare," said he, "that at twilight we may meet various supernatural beings, who are sometimes of evil, sometimes of good, omen; but for me there can be no better omen than to meet you."

  "Pan Adam has come," answered Krysia; "he is passing the time with Basia and Pani Makovetski. I slipped out purposely to meet you, for I was anxious about what the hetman had to say."

  The sincerity of these words touched the little knight to the heart. "Is it true that you are so concerned about me?" asked he, raising his eyes to her.

  "It is," answered Krysia, with a low voice.

  Pan Michael did not take his eyes from her; never before had she seemed to him so attractive. On her head was a satin hood; white swan's-down encircled her small, palish face, on which the moonlight was falling,—light which shone mildly on those noble brows, downcast eyes, long lids, and that dark, barely visible down above her mouth. There was a certain calm in that face and great goodness. Pan Michael felt at the moment that the face was a friendly and beloved one; therefore he said,—

  "Were it not for the attendant who is riding behind, I should fall on the snow at your feet from thankfulness."

  "Do not say such things," answered Krysia, "for I am not worthy; but to reward me say that you will remain with us, and that I shall be able to comfort you longer."

  "I shall not remain," said Pan Michael.

  Krysia stopped suddenly. "Impossible!"

  "Usual soldier's service! I go to Russia and to the Wilderness."

  "Usual service?" repeated Krysia, And she began to hurry in silence toward the house. Pan Michael walked quickly at her side, a trifle confused. Somehow it was a little oppressive and dull in his mind. He wanted to say something; he wanted to begin conversation again; he did not succeed. But still it seemed to him that he had a thousand things to say to her, and that just then was the time, while they were alone and no one preventing.

  "If I begin," thought he, "it will go on;" therefore he inquired all at once, "But is it long since Pan Adam came?"

  "Not long," answered Krysia.

  And again their conversation stopped.

  "The road is not that way," thought Pan Michael. "While I begin in that fashion, I shall never say anything. But I see that sorrow has gnawed away what there was of my wit."

  And for a time he hurried on in silence; his mustaches merely quivered more and more vigorously. At last he halted before the house and said, "Think, if I deferred my happiness so many years to serve the country, with what face could I refuse now to put off my own comfort?"

  It seemed to the little knight that such a simple argument should convince Krysia at once; in fact, after a while she answered with sadness and mildness, "The more nearly one knows Pan Michael, the more one respects and honors him."

  Then she entered the house. Basia's exclamations of "Allah! Allah!" reached her in the entrance. And when they came to the reception-room, they saw Pan Adam in the middle of it, blindfolded, bent forward, and with outstretched arms trying to catch Basia, who was hiding in corners and giving notice of her presence by cries of "Allah!" Pani Makovetski was occupied near the window in conversation with Zagloba.

  The entrance of Krysia and the little knight interrupted the amusement. Pan Adam pulled off the handkerchief and ran to greet Volodyovski. Immediately after came Pani Makovetski, Zagloba, and the panting Basia.

  "What is it? what is it? What did the hetman say?" asked one, interrupting another.

  "Lady sister," answered Pan Michael, "if you wish to send a letter to your husband, you have a chance, for I am going to Russia."

  "Is he sending you? In God's name, do not volunteer yet, and do not go," cried his sister, with a pitiful voice. "Will they not give you this bit of time?"

  "Is your command fixed already?" asked Zagloba, gloomily. "Your sister says justly that they are threshing you as with flails."

  "Rushchyts is going to the Crimea, and I take the squadron after him; for as Pan Adam has mentioned already, the roads will surely be black (with the enemy) in spring."

  "Are we alone to guard this Commonwealth from thieves, as a dog guards a house?" cried Zagloba. "Other men do not know from which end of a musket to shoot, but for us there is no rest."

  "Never mind! I have nothing to say," answered Pan Michael. "Service is service! I gave the hetman my word that I would go, and earlier or later it is all the same." Here Pan Michael put his finger on his forehead and repeated the argument which he had used once with Krysia, "You see that if I put off my happiness so many years to serve the Commonwealth, with what face can I refuse to give up the pleasure which I find in your company?"

  No one made answer to this; only Basia came up, with lips pouting like those of a peevish child, and said, "I am sorry for Pan Michael."

  Pan Michael laughed joyously. "God grant you happy fortune! But only yesterday you said that you could no more endure me than a wild Tartar."

  "What Tartar? I did not say that at all. You will be working there against the Tartars, and we shall be lonely here without you."

  "Oh, little haiduk, comfort yourself; forgive me for the name, but it fits you most wonderfully. The hetman informed me that my command would not last long. I shall set out in a week or two, and must be in Warsaw at the election. The hetman himself wishes me to come, and I shall be here even if Rushchyts does not return from the Crimea in May."

  "Oh, that is splendid!"

  "I will go with the colonel; I will go surely," said Pan Adam, looking quickly at Basia; and she said in answer,—

  "There will be not a few like you. It is a delight for men to serve under such a commander. Go; go! It will be pleasanter for Pan Michael."

  The young man only sighed and stroked his forelock with his broad palm; at last he said, stretching his hands, as if playing blind-man's-buff, "But first I will catch Panna Barbara! I will catch her most surely."

  "Allah! Allah!" exclaimed Basia, starting back.

  Meanwhile Krysia approached Pan Michael, with face radiant and full of quiet joy. "But you are not kind, not kind to me
, Pan Michael; you are better to Basia than to me."

  "I not kind? I better to Basia?" asked the knight, with astonishment.

  "You told Basia that you were coming back to the election; if I had known that, I should not have taken your departure to heart."

  "My golden—" cried Pan Michael. But that instant he checked himself and said, "My dear friend, I told you little, for I had lost my head."

  CHAPTER X.

  Pan Michael began to prepare slowly for his departure; he did not cease, however, to give lessons to Basia, whom he liked more and more, nor to walk alone with Krysia and seek consolation in her society. It seemed to him also that he found it; for his good-humor increased daily, and in the evening he even took part in the games of Basia and Pan Adam. That young cavalier became an agreeable guest at Ketling's house. He came in the morning or at midday, and remained till evening; as all liked him, they were glad to see him, and very soon they began to hold him as one of the family. He took the ladies to Warsaw, gave their orders at the silk shops, and in the evening played blind-man's-buff and patience with them, repeating that he must absolutely catch the unattainable Basia before his departure.

  But Basia laughed and escaped always, though Zagloba said to her, "If this one does not catch you at last, another man will."

  It became clearer and clearer that just "this one" had resolved to catch her. This must have come even to the head of the haiduk herself, for she fell sometimes to thinking till the forelock dropped into her eyes altogether. Pan Zagloba had his reasons, according to which Pan Adam was not suitable. A certain evening, when all had retired, he knocked at Pan Michael's chamber.

  "I am so sorry that we must part," said he, "that I have come to get a good look at you. God knows when we shall see each other again."

  "I shall come in all certainty to the election," said the little knight, embracing his old friend, "and I will tell you why. The hetman wishes to have here the largest number possible of men beloved by the knighthood, so that they may capture nobles for his candidate; and because—thanks to God!—my name has some weight among our brethren, he wants me to come surely. He counts on you also."

  "Indeed, he is trying to catch me with a large net; yet I see something, and though I am rather bulky, still I can creep out through any hole in that net. I will not vote for a Frenchman."

  "Why?"

  "Because he would be for absolutum dominium (absolute rule)."

  "Condé would have to swear to the pacta conventa like any other man; and he must be a great leader,—he is renowned for warlike achievement."

  "With God's favor we have no need of seeking leaders in France. Pan Sobieski himself is surely no worse than Condé. Think of it, Michael; the French wear stockings like the Swedes; therefore, like them they of course keep no oaths. Carolus Gustavus was ready to take an oath every hour. For the Swedes to take an oath or crack a nut is all one. What does a pact mean when a man has no honesty?"

  "But the Commonwealth needs defence. Oh, if Prince Yeremi were alive! We would elect him king with one voice."

  "His son is alive, the same blood."

  "But not the same courage. It is God's pity to look at him, for he is more like a serving-man than a prince of such worthy blood. If it were a different time! But now the first virtue is regard for the good of the country. Pan Yan says the same thing. Whatever the hetman does, I will do, for I believe in his love of the Commonwealth as in the Gospel."

  "It is time to think of that. It is too bad that you are going now."

  "But what will you do?"

  "I will go to Pan Yan. The boys torment me at times; still, when I am away for a good while I feel lonely without them."

  "If war comes after the election, Pan Yan too will go to it. Who knows? You may take the field yourself; we may campaign yet together in Russia. How much good and evil have we gone through in those parts!"

  "True, as God is dear to me! there our best years flowed by. At times the wish comes to see all those places which witnessed our glory."

  "Then come with me now. We shall be cheerful together; in five months I will return to Ketling. He will be at home then, and Pan Yan will be here."

  "No, Michael, it is not the time for me now; but I promise that if you marry some lady with land in Russia, I will go with you and see your installation."

  Pan Michael was confused a little, but answered at once, "How should I have a wife in my head? The best proof that I have not is that I am going to the army."

  "It is that which torments me; for I used to think, if not one, then another woman. Michael, have God in your heart; stop; where will you find a better chance than just at this moment? Remember that years will come later in which you will say to yourself: 'Each has his wife and his children, but I am alone, like Matsek's pear-tree, sticking up in the field.' And sorrow will seize you and terrible yearning. If you had married that dear one; if she had left children,—I should not trouble you; I should have some object for my affection and ready hope for consolation; but as things now are, the time may come when you will look around in vain for a near soul, and you will ask yourself, 'Am I living in a foreign country?'"

  Pan Michael was silent; he meditated; therefore Zagloba began to speak again, looking quickly into the face of the little knight, "In my mind and my heart I chose first of all that rosy haiduk for you: to begin with, she is gold, not a maiden; and secondly, such venomous soldiers as you would give to the world have not been on earth yet."

  "She is a storm; besides, Pan Adam wants to strike fire with her."

  "That's it,—that's it! To-day she would prefer you to a certainty, for she is in love with your glory; but when you go, and he remains—I know he will remain, the rascal! for there is no war—who knows what will happen?"

  "Basia is a storm! Let Novoveski take her. I wish him well, because he is a brave man."

  "Michael!" said Zagloba, clasping his hands, "think what a posterity that would be!"

  To this the little knight answered with the greatest simplicity, "I knew two brothers Bal whose mother was a Drohoyovski,[10] and they were excellent soldiers."

  "Ah! I was waiting for that. You have turned in that direction?" cried Zagloba.

  Pan Michael was confused beyond measure; at last he replied, "What do you say? I am turning to no side; but when I thought of Basia's bravery, which is really manlike, Krysia came to my mind at once; in her there is more of woman's nature. When one of them is mentioned, the other comes to mind, for they are both together."

  "Well, well! God bless you with Krysia, though as God is dear to me, if I were young, I should fall in love with Basia to kill. You would not need to leave such a wife at home in time of war; you could take her to the field, and have her at your side. Such a woman would be good for you in the tent; and if it came to that, even in time of battle she would handle a musket. But she is honest and good. Oh, my haiduk, my little darling haiduk, they have not known you here, and have nourished you with thanklessness; but if I were something like sixty years younger, I should see what sort of a Pani Zagloba there would be in my house."

  "I do not detract from Basia."

  "It is not a question of detracting from her virtues, but of giving her a husband. But you prefer Krysia."

  "Krysia is my friend."

  "Your friend, not your friendess? That must be because she has a mustache. I am your friend; Pan Yan is; so is Ketling. You do not need a man for a friend, but a woman. Tell this to yourself clearly, and don't throw a cover over your eyes. Guard yourself, Michael, against a friend of the fair sex, even though that friend has a mustache; for either you will betray that friend, or you yourself will be betrayed. The Devil does not sleep, and he is glad to sit between such friends; as example of this, Adam and Eve began to be friends, till that friendship became a bone in Adam's throat."

  "Do not offend Krysia, for I will not endure it in any way."

  "God guard Krysia! There is no one above my little haiduk; but Krysia is a good maiden too. I do not attack
her in any way, but I say this to you: When you sit near her, your cheeks are as flushed as if some one had pinched them, and your mustaches are quivering, your forelock rises, and you are panting and striking with your feet and stamping like a ring-dove; and all this is a sign of desires. Tell some one else about friendship; I am too old a sparrow for that talk."

  "So old that you see that which is not."

  "Would that I were mistaken! Would that my haiduk were in question! Michael, good-night to you. Take the haiduk; the haiduk is the comelier. Take the haiduk; take the haiduk!"

  Zagloba rose and went out of the room.

  Pan Michael tossed about the whole night; he could not sleep, for unquiet thoughts passed through his head all the time. He saw before him Krysia's face, her eyes with long lashes, and her lip with down. Dozing seized him at moments, but the vision did not vanish. On waking, he remembered the words of Zagloba, and called to mind how rarely the wit of that man was mistaken in anything. At times when half sleeping, half waking, the rosy face of Basia gleamed before him, and the sight calmed him; but again Krysia took her place quickly. The poor knight turns to the wall now, sees her eyes; turns to the darkness in the room, sees her eyes, and in them a certain languishing, a certain encouragement. At times those eyes are closing, as if to say, "Let thy will be done!" Pan Michael sat up in the bed and crossed himself. Toward morning the dream flew away altogether; then it became oppressive and bitter to him. Shame seized him, and he began to reproach himself harshly, because he did not see before him that beloved one who was dead; that he had his eyes, his heart, his soul, full not of her, but of the living. It seemed to him that he had sinned against the memory of Anusia, hence he shook himself once and a second time; then springing from the bed, though it was dark yet, he began to say his morning "Our Father."

  When Pan Michael had finished, he put his finger on his forehead and said, "I must go as soon as possible, and restrain this friendship at once, for perhaps Zagloba is right." Then, more cheerful and calm, he went down to breakfast. After breakfast he fenced with Basia, and noticed, beyond doubt, for the first time, that she drew one's eyes, she was so attractive with her dilated nostrils and panting breast. He seemed to avoid Krysia, who, noting this, followed him with her eyes, staring from astonishment; but he avoided even her glance. It was cutting his heart; but he held out.