Here the priest concluded, and turning to the altar began to pray; but Pan Andrei felt on a sudden that a soft hand was seizing his hand. He looked. It was Olenka; and before he had time to come to himself, to withdraw his hand, she had raised it and pressed it to her lips in presence of all, before the altar and the people.
“Olenka!” cried the astonished Kmita.
But she had arisen, and covering her face with a veil, said to old Billevich,—
“Uncle, let us go, let us go from here quickly!”
And they went out through the door of the vestry.
Pan Andrei tried to rise to follow her, but he could not. His strength left him entirely.
But a quarter of an hour later he was in front of the church, supported on one side by Pan Volodyovski, on the other by Zagloba.
The throng of people, small nobles and common men, crowded around. Women, some barely able to tear away from the breast of a husband returned from the war, led by curiosity special to the sex, ran to look at that Kmita, once terrible, now the savior of Lauda and the coming starosta. The throng became greater every instant, till the Lauda men had at last to surround him and protect him from the crush.
“Pan Andrei!” cried Zagloba, “see, we have brought you a present. You did not expect such a one. Now to Vodokty, to Vodokty, to the betrothal and the wedding!”
Further words of Zagloba were lost in the thundering shout raised at once by the Lauda men, under the leadership of Yuzva Footless,—
“Long life to Pan Kmita!”
“Long life!” repeated the crowd. “Long life to our starosta of Upita! Long life!”
“All to Vodokty!” roared Zagloba, again.
“To Vodokty! to Vodokty!” shouted a thousand throats. “As best men to Vodokty with Pan Kmita, with our savior! To the lady! to Vodokty!”
And an immense movement began. Lauda mounted its horses; every man living rushed to wagons, carts, ponies. People on foot began to run across field and forest. The shout “To Vodokty!” rang through the whole place. The roads were thronged with many-colored crowds.
Kmita rode in his little wagon between Volodyovski and Zagloba, and time after time he embraced one or the other of them. He was not able to speak yet, he was too much excited; but they pushed on as if Tartars were attacking Upita. All the wagons and carts rushed in like manner around them.
They were well outside the place, when Pan Michael suddenly bent to Kmita’s ear. “Yendrek,” asked he, “but do you not know where the other is?”
“In Vodokty.”
Then, whether it was the wind or excitement that began to move the mustaches of Pan Michael, is unknown; it is enough that during the whole way they did not cease to thrust forward like two awls, or like the feelers of a Maybug.
Zagloba was singing with delight in such a terrible bass voice that he frightened the horses,—
“There were two of us, Kasyenko, two in this world;
But methinks, somehow, that three are now riding.”
Anusia was not at church that Sunday, for she had in her turn to stay with the weakly Panna Kulvyets, with whom she and Olenka remained on alternate days.
The whole morning she had been occupied with watching and taking care of the sick woman, so that it was late when she could go to her prayers. Barely had she said the last “Amen,” when there was a thundering before the gate, and Olenka rushed into the room like a storm.
“Jesus! Mary! What has happened?” screamed Anusia, looking at her.
“Anusia, you do not know who Pan Babinich is? He is Pan Kmita!”
Anusia sprang to her feet: “Who told you?”
“The king’s letter was read—Pan Volodyovski brought it—the Lauda men—”
“Has Pan Volodyovski returned?” screamed Anusia; and she threw herself into Olenka’s arms.
Olenka took this outburst of feeling as a proof of Anusia’s love for her; for she had become feverish, was almost unconscious. On her face were fiery spots, and her breast rose and fell as if from great pain.
Then Olenka began to tell without order and in a broken voice everything which she had heard in the church, running at the same time through the room as if demented, repeating every moment, “I am not worthy of him!” reproaching herself terribly, saying that she had done him more injustice than all others, that she had not even been willing to pray for him, when he was swimming in his own blood in defence of the Holy Lady, the country, and the king.
In vain did Anusia, while running after her through the room, endeavor to comfort her. She repeated continually one thing,—that she was not worthy of him, that she would not dare to look in his eyes; then again she would begin to speak of the deeds of Babinich, of the seizure of Boguslav, of his revenge, of saving the king, of Prostki, Volmontovichi, and Chenstohova; and at last of her own faults, of her stubbornness, for which she must do penance in the cloister.
Further reproaches were interrupted by Pan Tomash, who, falling into the room like a bomb, cried,—
“In God’s name, all Upita is rolling after us! They are already in the village, and Babinich is surely with them!”
Indeed, a distant shout at that moment announced the approach of the crowds. The sword-bearer, seizing Olenka, conducted her to the porch; Anusia rushed after them.
At that moment the throng of men and horses looked black in the distance; and as far as the eye could reach the whole road was packed with them. At last they reached the yard. Those on foot were storming over ditches and fences; the wagons rolled in through the gates, and all were shouting and throwing up their caps.
At last appeared the crowd of armed Lauda men, and the wagon, in which sat three persons,—Kmita, Volodyovski, and Zagloba.
The wagon stopped at some distance, for so many people had crowded up before the entrance that it was impossible to approach. Zagloba and Volodyovski sprang out first, and helping Kmita to descend, took him at once by the arms.
“Give room!” cried Zagloba.
“Give room!” repeated the Lauda men.
The people pushed back at once, so that in the middle of the crowd there was an open road along which the two knights led Kmita to the porch. He was very pale, but walked with head erect, at once confused and happy.
Olenka leaned against the door-post, and dropped her arms without control at her sides; but when he was near she looked into the face of the emaciated man,—who after such a time of separation approached, like Lazarus, without a drop of blood in his face,—then sobbing, rent her breast again. He, from weeping, from happiness, and from confusion, did not know himself what to say,—
“What, Olenka, what?”
But she dropped suddenly to his knees,—
“Yendrek!” cried she, “I am not worthy to kiss thy wounds!”
At that moment strength came back to the knight; he seized her from the ground like a feather, and pressed her to his bosom.
One immense shout, from which the walls of the house trembled and the last of the leaves fell from the trees, dinned every ear. The Lauda men began to fire from pistols; caps flew into the air; around nothing was to be seen but faces carried away by joy, gleaming eyes, and open mouths shouting,—
“Vivat Kmita! vivat Panna Billevich! vivat the young couple!”
“Vivat two couples!” roared Zagloba; but his voice was lost in the general storm.
Vodokty was turned as it were into a camp. All day they were slaughtering oxen and sheep at command of the sword-bearer, and digging out of the ground barrels of mead and beer. In the evening all sat down to a feast,—the oldest and most noted in the rooms, the younger in the servants’ hall; the simple people rejoiced equally at fires in the yard.
At the chief table the cup went around in honor of two happy pairs; but when good feeling had reached the highest degree, Zagloba raised the following toast:—
“To
thee I return, worthy Pan Andrei, and to thee old friend, Pan Michael! It was not enough to expose your breasts, to shed blood, to cut down the enemy! Your work is not finished; for since a multitude of people have fallen in time of this terrible war, you must now give new inhabitants, new defenders to this Commonwealth. For this I think you will not lack either in manhood or good will. Worthy gentlemen! to the honor of those coming generations! May God bless them, and permit them to guard this legacy which we leave them, restored by our toil, by our sweat, by our blood. When grievous times come, let them remember us and never despair, considering that there are no straits out of which it is impossible to rise, with united forces and the help of God.”
Pan Andrei not long after his marriage served in a new war which broke out on the eastern side of the Commonwealth; but the thundering victory of Charnyetski and Sapyeha over Hovanski and Dolgoruki, and the hetmans of the kingdom over Sheremetyeff, soon brought it to an end. Then Kmita returned, covered with fresh glory, and settled down permanently in Vodokty. After him his cousin Yakub became banneret of Orsha,—Yakub, who afterward belonged to the unfortunate confederation of the army; but Pan Andrei, standing soul and heart with the king, rewarded with the starostaship of Upita, lived long in exemplary harmony and love with Lauda, surrounded by universal respect. His ill-wishers—for who has them not?—said, it is true, that he listened over-much to his wife in everything. He was not ashamed of that, however, but acknowledged himself that in every important affair he sought her advice.
FOOTNOTES:
Footnote 1: This name is derived from baba an old woman.
Footnote 2: Sapyeha.
Footnote 3: Lvoff.
Footnote 4: Self-lord Zamoyski.
Footnote 5: Zamoyski was starosta of Kaluj.
Footnote 6: “Strachy na Lachy” (Terror on Poles) is a Polish saying, about equivalent to “impossible.”
Footnote 7: “Two-bridged” or “of two bridges,” from bis and pons.
Footnote 8: Byes means “devil;” so Byes Cornutus is “horned devil.”
Footnote 9: Rogaty means “horned.” Borzobogaty means “quickly rich.” Bardzorogaty means “greatly horned.”
Footnote 10:
The Deluge- Volume 2 Page 85
