CHAPTER II.
On a certain beautiful day of autumn Pan Andrei Kmita was sitting underthe shady roof of a summer-house and drinking his after-dinner mead; hegazed at his wife from time to time through the lattice, which wasgrown over with wild hops. Pani Kmita was walking on a neatly sweptpath in front of the summer-house. The lady was unusually stately;bright-haired, with a face serene, almost angelic. She walked slowlyand carefully, for there was in her a fulness of dignity and blessing.
Pan Andrei gazed at her with intense love. When she moved, his lookturned after her with such attachment as a dog shows his master withhis eyes. At moments he smiled, for he was greatly rejoiced at sight ofher, and he twirled his mustache upward. At such moments there appearedon his face a certain expression of glad frolicsomeness. It was clearthat the soldier was fun-loving by nature, and in years of single lifehad played many a prank.
Silence in the garden was broken only by the sound of over-ripe fruitdropping to the earth and the buzzing of insects. The weather hadsettled marvellously. It was the beginning of September. The sun burnedno longer with excessive violence, but cast yet abundant golden rays.In these rays ruddy apples were shining among the gray leaves and hungin such numbers that they hid the branches. The limbs of plum-treeswere bending under plums with bluish wax on them.
The first movement of air was shown by the spider-threads fastened tothe trees; these swayed with a breeze so slight that it did not stireven the leaves.
Perhaps it was that calm in the world which had so filled Pan Kmitawith joyfulness, for his face grew more radiant each moment. At last hetook a draught of mead and said to his wife,--
"Olenka, but come here! I will tell you something."
"It may be something that I should not like to hear."
"As God is dear to me, it is not. Give me your ear."
Saying this, he seized her by the waist, pressed his mustaches to herbright hair, and whispered, "If a boy, let him be Michael."
She turned away with face somewhat flushed, and whispered, "But youpromised not to object to Heraclius."
"Do you not see that it is to honor Volodyovski?"
"But should not the first remembrance be given to my grandfather?"
"And my benefactor-- H'm! true--but the next will be Michael. It cannotbe otherwise."
Here Olenka, standing up, tried to free herself from the arms of PanAndrei; but he, gathering her in with still greater force, began tokiss her on the lips and the eyes, repeating at the same time,--
"O thou my hundreds, my thousands, my dearest love!"
Further conversation was interrupted by a lad who appeared at the endof the walk and ran quickly toward the summer-house.
"What is wanted?" asked Kmita, freeing his wife.
"Pan Kharlamp has come, and is waiting in the parlor," said the boy.
"And there he is himself!" exclaimed Kmita, at sight of a manapproaching the summer-house. "For God's sake, how gray his mustacheis! Greetings to you, dear comrade! greetings, old friend!"
With these words he rushed from the summer-house, and hurried with openarms toward Pan Kharlamp. But first Pan Kharlamp bowed low to Olenka,whom he had seen in old times at the court of Kyedani; then he pressedher hand to his enormous mustache, and casting himself into theembraces of Kmita, sobbed on his shoulder.
"For God's sake, what is the matter?" cried the astonished host.
"God has given happiness to one and taken it from another," saidKharlamp. "But the reasons of my sorrow I can tell only to you."
Here he looked at Olenka; she, seeing that he was unwilling to speak inher presence, said to her husband, "I will send mead to you, gentlemen,and now I leave you."
Kmita took Pan Kharlamp to the summer-house, and seating him on abench, asked, "What is the matter? Are you in need of assistance? Counton me as on Zavisha!"[3]
"Nothing is the matter with me," said the old soldier, "and I need noassistance while I can move this hand and this sabre; but our friend,the most worthy cavalier in the Commonwealth, is in cruel suffering. Iknow not whether he is breathing yet."
"By Christ's wounds! Has anything happened to Volodyovski?"
"Yes," said Kharlamp, giving way to a new outburst of tears. "Know thatPanna Anna Borzobogati has left this vale--"
"Is dead!" cried Kmita, seizing his head with both hands.
"As a bird pierced by a shaft."
A moment of silence followed,--no sound but that of apples droppinghere and there to the ground heavily, and of Pan Kharlamp panting moreloudly while restraining his weeping. But Kmita was wringing his hands,and repeated, nodding his head,--
"Dear God! dear God! dear God!"
"Your grace will not wonder at my tears," said Kharlamp, at last; "forif your heart is pressed by unendurable pain at the mere tidings ofwhat happened, what must it be to me, who was witness of her death andher pain, of her suffering, which surpassed every natural measure?"
Here the servant appeared, bringing a tray with a decanter and a secondglass on it; after him came Kmita's wife, who could not repress hercuriosity. Looking at her husband's face and seeing in it deepsuffering, she said straightway,--
"What tidings have you brought? Do not dismiss me. I will comfort youas far as possible, or I will weep with you, or will help you withcounsel."
"Help for this will not be found in your head," said Pan Andrei; "and Ifear that your health will suffer from sorrow."
"I can endure much. It is more grievous to live in uncertainty."
"Anusia is dead," said Kmita.
Olenka grew somewhat pale, and dropped on the bench heavily. Kmitathought that she would faint; but grief acted more quickly than thesudden announcement, and she began to weep. Both knights accompaniedher immediately.
"Olenka," said Kmita, at last, wishing to turn his wife's thoughts inanother direction, "do you not think that she is in heaven?"
"Not for her do I weep, but over the loss of her, and over theloneliness of Pan Michael. As to her eternal happiness, I should wishto have such hope for my own salvation as I have for hers. There wasnot a worthier maiden, or one of better heart, or more honest. O myAnulka![4] my Anulka, beloved!"
"I saw her death," said Kharlamp; "may God grant us all to die withsuch piety!"
Here silence followed, as if some of their sorrow had gone with theirtears; then Kmita said, "Tell us how it was, and take some mead tosupport you."
"Thank you," said Kharlamp; "I will drink from time to time if you willdrink with me; for pain seizes not only the heart, but the throat, likea wolf, and when it seizes a man it might choke him unless he receivedsome assistance. I was going from Chenstohova to my native place tosettle there quietly in my old age. I have had war enough; as astripling I began to practise, and now my mustache is gray. If I cannotstay at home altogether, I will go out under some banner; but thesemilitary confederations to the loss of the country and the profit ofthe enemy, and these civil wars, have disgusted me thoroughly witharms. Dear God! the pelican nourishes its children with its blood, itis true; but this country has no longer even blood in its breast.Sviderski[5] was a great soldier. May God judge him!"
"My dearest Anulka!" interrupted Pani Kmita, with weeping, "withoutthee what would have happened to me and to all of us? Thou wert arefuge and a defence to me! O my beloved Anulka!"
Hearing this, Kharlamp sobbed anew, but briefly, for Kmita interruptedhim with a question, "But where did you meet Pan Michael?"
"In Chenstohova, where he and she intended to rest, for they werevisiting the shrine there after the journey. He told me at once how hewas going from your place to Cracow, to Princess Griselda, withoutwhose permission and blessing Anusia was unwilling to marry. The maidenwas in good health at that time, and Pan Michael was as joyful as abird. 'See,' said he, 'the Lord God has given me a reward for mylabor!' He boasted also not a little,--God comfort him!--and joked withme because I, as you know, quarrelled with him on a time concerning thelady, and we were to fight a duel. Where
is she now, poor woman?"
Here Kharlamp broke out again, but briefly, for Kmita stopped him asecond time: "You say that she was well? How came the attack, then, sosuddenly?"
"That it was sudden, is true. She was lodging with Pani MartsinZamoyski, who, with her husband, was spending some time in Chenstohova.Pan Michael used to sit all the day with her; he complained of delaysomewhat, and said they might be a whole year on the journey to Cracow,for every one on the way would detain him. And this is no wonder! Everyman is glad to entertain such a soldier as Pan Michael, and whoevercould catch him would keep him. He took me to the lady too, andthreatened smilingly that he would cut me to pieces if I made love toher; but he was the whole world to her. At times, too, my heart sank,for my own sake, because a man in old age is like a nail in a wall.Never mind! But one night Pan Michael rushed in to me in dreadfuldistress: 'In God's name, can you find a doctor?' 'What has happened?''The sick woman knows no one!' 'When did she fall ill?' asked I. 'PaniZamoyski has just given me word,' replied he. 'It is night now. Wherecan I look for a doctor, when there is nothing here but a cloister, andin the town more ruins than people?' I found a surgeon at last, and hewas even unwilling to go; I had to drive him with weapons. But a priestwas more needed then than a surgeon; we found at her bedside, in fact,a worthy Paulist, who, through prayer, had restored her toconsciousness. She was able to receive the sacrament, and take anaffecting farewell of Pan Michael. At noon of the following day it wasall over with her. The surgeon said that some one must have given hersomething, though that is impossible, for witchcraft has no power inChenstohova. But what happened to Pan Michael, what he said,--my hopeis that the Lord Jesus will not account this to him, for a man does notreckon with words when pain is tearing him. You see," Pan Kharlamplowered his voice, "he blasphemed in his forgetfulness."
"For God's sake, did he blaspheme?" inquired Kmita, in a whisper.
"He rushed out from her corpse to the ante-chamber, from theante-chamber to the yard, and reeled about like a drunken man. Heraised his hands then, and began to cry with a dreadful voice: 'Such isthe reward for my wounds, for my toils, for my blood, for my love ofcountry! I had one lamb,' said he, 'and that one, O Lord, Thou didsttake from me. To hurl down an armed man,' said he, 'who walks the earthin pride, is a deed for God's hand; but a cat, a hawk, or a kite cankill a harmless dove, and--'"
"By the wounds of God!" exclaimed Pani Kmita, "say no more, or you willdraw misfortune on this house."
Kharlamp made the sign of the cross and continued, "The poor soldierthought that he had done service, and still this was his reward. Ah,God knows better what He does, though that is not to be understood byman's reason, nor measured by human justice. Straightway after thisblasphemy he grew rigid and fell on the ground; and the priest read anexorcism over him, so that foul spirits should not enter him, as theymight, enticed by his blasphemy."
"Did he come to himself quickly?"
"He lay as if dead about an hour; then he recovered and went to hisroom; he would see no one. At the time of the burial I said to him,'Pan Michael, have God in your heart.' He made me no answer. I stayedthree days more in Chenstohova, for I was loath to leave him; but Iknocked in vain at his door. He did not want me. I struggled with mythoughts: what was I to do,--try longer at the door, or go away? Howwas I to leave a man without comfort? But finding that I could donothing, I resolved to go to Pan Yan Skshetuski. He is his best friend,and Pan Zagloba is his friend also; maybe they will touch his heartsomehow, and especially Pan Zagloba, who is quick-witted, and knows howto talk over any man."
"Did you go to Pan Yan?"
"I did, but God gave no luck, for he and Zagloba had gone to Kalish toPan Stanislav. No one could tell when they would return. Then I thoughtto myself, 'As my road is toward Jmud, I will go to Pan Kmita and tellwhat has happened.'"
"I knew from of old that you were a worthy cavalier," said Kmita.
"It is not a question of me in this case, but of Pan Michael," saidKharlamp; "and I confess that I fear for him greatly lest his mind bedisturbed."
"God preserve him from that!" said Pani Kmita.
"If God preserves him, he will certainly take the habit, for I tell youthat such sorrow I have never seen in my life. And it is a pity to losesuch a soldier as he,--it is a pity!"
"How a pity? The glory of God will increase thereby," said Pani Kmita.
Kharlamp's mustache began to quiver, and he rubbed his forehead.
"Well, gracious benefactress, either it will increase or it will notincrease. Consider how many Pagans and heretics he has destroyed in hislife, by which he has surely delighted our Saviour and His Mother morethan any one priest could with sermons. H'm! it is a thing worthy ofthought! Let every one serve the glory of God as he knows best. Amongthe Jesuits legions of men may be found wiser than Pan Michael, butanother such sabre as his there is not in the Commonwealth."
"True, as God is dear to me!" cried Kmita. "Do you know whether hestayed in Chenstohova?"
"He was there when I left; what he did later, I know not. I know onlythis: God preserve him from losing his mind, God preserve him fromsickness, which frequently comes with despair,--he will be alone,without aid, without a relative, without a friend, withoutconsolation."
"May the Most Holy Lady in that place of miracles save thee, faithfulfriend, who hast done so much for me that a brother could not have donemore!"
Pani Kmita fell into deep thought, and silence continued long; at lastshe raised her bright head, and said, "Yendrek, do you remember howmuch we owe him?"
"If I forget, I will borrow eyes from a dog, for I shall not dare tolook an honest man in the face with my own eyes."
"Yendrek, you cannot leave him in that state."
"How can I help him?"
"Go to him."
"There speaks a woman's honest heart; there is a noble woman," criedKharlamp, seizing her hands and covering them with kisses.
But the advice was not to Kmita's taste; hence he began to twist hishead, and said, "I would go to the ends of the earth for him, but--youyourself know--if you were well--I do not say--but you know. Godpreserve you from any accident! I should wither away from anxiety-- Awife is above the best friend. I am sorry for Pan Michael but--youyourself know--"
"I will remain under the protection of the Lauda fathers. It ispeaceful here now, and I shall not be afraid of any small thing.Without God's will a hair will not fall from my head; and Pan Michaelneeds rescue, perhaps."
"Oi, he needs it!" put in Kharlamp.
"Yendrek, I am in good health. Harm will come to me from no one; I knowthat you are unwilling to go--"
"I would rather go against cannon with an oven-stick!" interruptedKmita.
"If you stay, do you think it will not be bitter for you here when youthink, 'I have abandoned my friend'? and besides, the Lord God mayeasily take away His blessing in His just wrath."
"You beat a knot into my head. You say that He may take away Hisblessing? I fear that."
"It is a sacred duty to save such a friend as Pan Michael."
"I love Michael with my whole heart. The case is a hard one! If thereis need, there is urgent need, for every hour in this matter isimportant. I will go at once to the stables. By the living God, isthere no other way out of it? The Evil One inspired Pan Yan and Zaglobato go to Kalish. It is not a question with me of myself, but of you,dearest. I would rather lose all I have than be without you one day.Should any one say that I go from you not on public service, I wouldplant my sword-hilt in his mouth to the cross. Duty, you say? Let it beso. He is a fool who hesitates. If this were for any one else butMichael, I never should do it."
Here Pan Andrei turned to Kharlamp. "Gracious sir, I beg you to come tothe stable; we will choose horses. And you, Olenka, see that my trunkis ready. Let some of the Lauda men look to the threshing. PanKharlamp, you must stay with us even a fortnight; you will take care ofmy wife for me. Some land may be found for you here in theneighborhood. Take Lyubich! Come to the stable. I will start in anhour.
If 'tis needful, 'tis needful!"
Pan Michael: An Historical Novel of Poland, the Ukraine, and Turkey Page 3
