The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 2 (of 2)

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER LIV.

  Sakovich's forces were cut up to such a degree that he was barely ablehimself to take refuge in the forests near Ponyevyej with four othermen. Then he wandered through the forests disguised as a peasant for awhole month, not daring to put his head out into the open light.

  But Babinich rushed upon Ponyevyej, cut down the infantry posted thereas a garrison, and pursued Hamilton, who was unable to flee to Livoniabecause of the considerable Polish forces assembled in Shavli, andfarther on, near Birji, turned toward the east in hope of being able tobreak through to Vilkomir. He had doubts about saving his own regiment,but did not wish to fall into the hands of Babinich; for the report wasspread everywhere that that stern warrior, not to burden himself, gaveorders to slay every prisoner.

  The ill-fated Englishman therefore fled like a deer hunted by wolves,and Babinich hunted him all the more venomously. Hence he did notreturn to Volmontovichi, and he did not even inquire what party it wasthat he had saved.

  The first hoar-frosts had begun to cover the earth in the morning;escape became more difficult thereby, for the tracks of hoofs remainedon the earth. In the forest there was no pasture, in the field thehorses suffered stern hunger. The foreign cavalry did not dare toremain longer in villages, lest the stubborn enemy might reach them anymoment.

  At last their misery surpassed all bounds; they lived only on leaves,bark, and those of their own horses which fell from fatigue. After aweek they began to implore their colonel to turn, face Babinich, andgive him battle, for they chose to die by the sword rather than byhunger. Hamilton yielded, and drew up for battle in Andronishki. TheSwedish forces were inferior to that degree that the Englishman couldnot even think of victory, especially against such an opponent. But hewas himself greatly wearied, and wanted to die. The battle, begun atAndronishki, ended near Trouepi, where fell the last of the Swedes.

  Hamilton died the death of a hero, defending himself at a cross by theroadside against a number of Tartars, who wished at first to take himalive, but infuriated by his resistance bore him apart on their sabresat last.

  But Babinich's squadrons were so wearied too that they had neither thestrength nor the wish to advance even to the neighboring Trouepi; butwherever one of them stood during battle there it prepared at once forthe night's rest, kindling fires in the midst of the enemy's corpses.After they had eaten, all fell asleep with the sleep of stones. Eventhe Tartars themselves deferred till next morning the plunder ofcorpses.

  Kmita, who was concerned mainly about the horses, did not oppose thatrest. But next morning he rose rather early, so as to count his ownloss after the stubborn conflict and divide the spoils justly.Immediately after eating he stood on the eminence, at that same crossunder which Hamilton had died; the Polish and Tartar officers came tohim in their turn, with the loss of their men notched on staffs, andmade reports. He listened as a country proprietor listens in summer tohis overseers, and rejoices in his heart at the plentiful harvest.

  Then Akbah Ulan came up, more like a fright than a human being, for hisnose had been broken at Volmontovichi by the hilt of a sabre; he bowed,gave Kmita a bloody paper, and said,--

  "Effendi, some papers were found on the Swedish leader, which I giveaccording to order."

  Kmita had indeed given a rigorous order that all papers discovered oncorpses should be brought to him straightway after battle, for often hewas able to learn from them the plans of the enemy, and actaccordingly.

  But at this time he was not so urgent; therefore he nodded and put thepaper in his bosom. But Akbah Ulan he sent to the chambul with theorder to move at once to Trouepi, where they were to have a longer rest.

  The squadrons then passed before him, one after the other. In advancemarched the chambul, which now did not number five hundred completely;the rest had been lost in continual battles; but each Tartar had somany Swedish riks thalers, Prussian thalers and ducats sewed up in hissaddle, in his coat, and in his cap, that he was worth his own weight.They were in no wise like common Tartars, for whoso of them was weakerhad perished from hardship; there remained only men beyond praise,broad-shouldered, of iron endurance, and venomous as hornets. Continualpractice had so trained them that in hand-to-hand conflict they couldmeet even the regular cavalry of Poland; on the heavy cavalry ordragoons of Prussia, when equal in number, they rushed like wolves uponsheep. In battle they defended with terrible fierceness the bodies oftheir comrades, so as to divide afterward their booty. They passed nowbefore Kmita with great animation, sounding their trumpets, blowingtheir pipes, and shaking their horse-tail standard; they went in suchorder that regular troops could not have marched better.

  Next came the dragoons, formed with great pains by Pan Andrei fromvolunteers of every description, armed with rapiers and muskets. Theywere led by the old sergeant, Soroka, now raised to the dignity ofofficer, and even to that of captain. The regiment, dressed in onefashion in captured uniforms taken from Prussian dragoons, was composedchiefly of men of low station; but Kmita loved specially that kind ofpeople, for they obeyed blindly and endured every toil without utteringa murmur.

  In the two following squadrons of volunteers only smaller and highernobles served. They were stormy spirits and restive, who under anotherleader would have been turned into a herd of robbers, but in Kmita'siron hands they had become like regular squadrons, and gladly calledthemselves "light horsemen." These were less steady under fire than thedragoons, but were more terrible in their first fury, and were moreskilful in hand-to-hand conflict, for they knew every point of fencing.

  After these marched, finally, about a thousand fresh volunteers,--goodmen, but over whom it was needful to work yet to make them like regulartroops.

  Each of these squadrons in passing raised a shout, saluting meanwhilePan Andrei with their sabres. And he was more and more rejoiced. Thatwas a considerable and not a poor force. He had accomplished much withit, had shed much of the enemy's blood, and God knows how much he mightdo yet. His former offences were great, but his recent services werenot slight. He had risen from his fall, from his sin; and had gone torepent, not in the church, but in the field.--not in ashes, but inblood. He had defended the Most Holy Lady, the country, and the king;and now he felt that it was easier in his soul and more joyous. Nay,the heart of the young man swelled with pride, for not every one wouldhave been able to make head as he had.

  For how many fiery nobles are there, how many cavaliers in thatCommonwealth! and why does no one of them stand at the head of suchforces,--not even Volodyovski, nor Pan Yan? Besides, who defendedChenstohova, who defended the king in the pass, who slashed downBoguslav, who first brought fire and sword into Electoral Prussia? Andbehold even now in Jmud there is hardly an enemy.

  Here Pan Andrei felt what the falcon feels, when, stretching his wings,he rises higher and higher. The passing squadrons greeted him with athundering shout, and he raised his head and asked himself, "Whithershall I fly?" And his face flushed, for in that moment it seemed to himthat within himself he bore a hetman. But that baton, if it comes tohim, will come from the field, from wounds, from service, from praise.No traitor will flash it before his eyes as in his time Prince Yanushhad done, but a thankful country will place it in his hand, with thewill of the king. But it is not for him to think when it will come, butto fight, and to fight to-morrow as he fought yesterday!

  Here the excited imagination of the cavalier returned to reality.Whither should he march from Trouepi, in what new place strike theSwedes?

  Then he remembered the letter given him by Akbah Ulan and found on thebody of Hamilton. He put his hand in his bosom, took it out and looked,and astonishment at once was reflected on his face; for on the letterwas written plainly, in a woman's hand: "To his Grace Pan Babinich,Colonel of Tartar forces and volunteers."

  "For me!" said Pan Andrei.

  The seal was broken; therefore he opened the letter quickly, struck thepaper with the back of his hand, and began to read. But he had notfinished when his hands began to qu
iver, his face changed, and hecried,--

  "Praised be the name of the Lord! O merciful God, the reward comes tome from Thy hand!"

  Here he seized the foot of the cross with both hands, and began to beathis yellow hair against the wood. In another manner he was not able tothank God at that moment; he found no other words for prayer, becausedelight like a whirlwind had seized him and borne him far, far away tothe sky.

  That letter was from Anusia. The Swedes had found it on the body ofYurek Billevich, and now it had come to Kmita's hands through a secondcorpse. Through Pan Andrei's head thousands of thoughts were flyingwith the speed of Tartar arrows.

  Therefore Olenka was not in the wilderness, but in Billevich's party;and he had just saved her, and with her that Volmontovichi which on atime he had sent up in smoke in avenging his comrades. Evidently thehand of God had directed his steps, so that with one blow he had madegood all wrongs done Olenka and Lauda. Behold, his offences are washedaway! Can she refuse now to forgive him, or can that grave brotherhoodof Lauda? Can they refuse to bless him? And what will she say, thatbeloved maiden who holds him a traitor, when she learns that thatBabinich who brought down Radzivill, who waded to his girdle in Germanand Swedish blood, who crushed the enemy out of Jmud, destroyed them,drove them to Prussia and Livonia, was he,--was Kmita; no longer,however, the disorderly, the outlaw, the traitor, but the defender ofthe faith, of the king, of the country?

  Immediately after he had crossed the boundary of Jmud, Pan Andreiwished to proclaim to the four sides of the world who that far-famedBabinich was; and if he did not do so, it was only because he fearedthat at the very sound of his real name all would turn from him, allwould suspect him, would refuse him aid and confidence. Two years hadbarely passed, since bewildered by Radzivill he had cut down thosesquadrons which were not willing to rise with Radzivill against kingand country. Barely two years before, he had been the right hand of thetraitor.

  Now all was changed. Now, after so many victories, in such glory, hehad a right to come to the maiden and say, "I am Kmita, but yoursavior." He had a right to shout to all Jmud, "I am Kmita, but thysavior!"

  Besides, Volmontovichi was not distant. Kmita had followed Hamilton aweek; but Kmita would be at the feet of Olenka in less time than aweek. Here Pan Andrei stood up, pale with emotion, with flaming eyes,with gleaming face, and cried to his attendant,--

  "My horse quickly! Be alive, be alive!" The attendant brought the blacksteed, and sprang down to hold the stirrup; but when he had reached theground he said,--

  "Your grace, some strange men are approaching from Trouepi with PanSoroka, and they are coming at a trot."

  "I do not care for them!" answered Pan Andrei.

  Now both horsemen approached to within some yards; then one of themwith Soroka pushed forward on a gallop, arrived, and removing hispanther-skin cap, uncovered a head red as fire.

  "I see that I am standing before Pan Babinich!" said he; "I am gladthat I have found you."

  "With whom have I the honor to speak?" asked Kmita, impatiently.

  "I am Vyershul, once captain of the Tartar squadron with Prince YeremiVishnyevetski. I come to my native place to make levies for a new war;and besides I bring you a letter from the grand hetman, Sapyeha."

  "For a new war?" asked Kmita, frowning. "What do you say?"

  "This letter will explain better than I," replied Vyershul, giving theletter of the hetman. Kmita opened the letter feverishly. It read asfollows:--

  My Very Dear Pan Babinich,--A new deluge is on the country. A league ofSweden with Rakotsy has been concluded, and a division of theCommonwealth agreed upon. Eighty thousand Hungarians, Transylvanians,Wallachians, and Cossacks may cross the southern boundary at anymoment. And since in these last straits it is necessary for us to exertall our forces so as to leave even a glorious name after our people forcoming ages, I send to your grace this order, according to which youare to turn straight to the south without losing a moment of time, andcome to us by forced marches. You will find us in Brest, whence we willsend you farther without delay. This time _periculum in mora_ (there isdanger in delay). Prince Boguslav is freed from captivity; but PanGosyevski is to have an eye on Prussia and Jmud. Enjoining haste on youonce more, I trust that love for the perishing country will be yourbest spur.

  When Kmita had finished reading, he dropped the letter to the earth,and began to pass his hands over his moistened face; at last he lookedwanderingly on Vyershul, and inquired in a low, stifled voice,--

  "Why is Pan Gosyevski to remain in Jmud, and why must I go to thesouth?"

  Vyershul shrugged his shoulders: "Ask the hetman in Brest for hisreason; I answer nothing."

  All at once terrible anger seized Pan Andrei by the throat. His eyesflashed, his face was blue, and he cried with a shrieking voice: "Iwill not go from here! Do you understand?"

  "Is that true?" asked Vyershul. "My office was to deliver the order;the rest is your affair. With the forehead, with the forehead! I wishedto beg your company for a couple of hours, but after what I have heardI prefer to look for another."

  Then he wheeled his horse and rode off. Pan Andrei sat again under thecross, and began to look around on the sky, as if wishing to take noteof the weather. The attendant drew back some distance with the horses,and stillness set in all around.

  The morning was clear, pale, half autumnal, half wintry. The wind wasnot blowing, but from the birch bushes growing at the foot of thecrucifix the last leaves were dropping noiselessly, yellow andshrivelled from frost. Countless flocks of crows and jackdaws wereflying over the forest; some were letting themselves down with mightycawing right there near the crucifix, for the field and the road werecovered with corpses of Swedes still unburied. Pan Andrei looked atthose dark birds, blinking his eyes; you would say that he wanted tocount them. Then he closed his lids and sat long without motion; atlast he shuddered, frowned; presence of mind came back to his face, andhe began to speak thus to himself,--

  "It cannot be otherwise! I will go in two weeks, but not now. Lethappen what may. It was not I who brought Rakotsy. I cannot! What istoo much is too much! Have I hammered and pounded but little, passedsleepless nights in the saddle, shed my own blood and that of othermen? What reward for this? If I had not received the first letter, Ishould have gone; but both have come in one hour, as if for the greaterpain, the greater sorrow. Let the world perish, I will not go! Thecountry will not be lost in two weeks; and besides the anger of God isevidently on it, and it is not in the might of man to oppose that. OGod! the Hyperboreans [Northern Russians], the Swedes, the Prussians,the Hungarians, the Transylvanians, the Wallachians, the Cossacks, andall of them at once! Who can resist? O Lord, in what has thisunfortunate land offended, in what this pious king, that Thou hastturned from them Thy face, and givest neither mercy nor rescue, andsendest new lashes? Is the bloodshed yet too little, the tears too few?People here have forgotten to rejoice,--so the wind does not blow here,it groans; so the rains do not fall, they weep,--and Thou art lashingand lashing! Mercy, O Lord! Salvation, O Father! We have sinned, butstill repentance has come. We have yielded our fortunes, we havemounted our horses, we are fighting and fighting. We have abandonedviolence, we have abjured private ends. Why not pardon us? Why notcomfort us?"

  Here conscience seized him by the hair suddenly, and shook him till hescreamed; for at the same time it seemed to him that he heard somestrange voice from the whole dome of heaven, saying,--

  "Have you abandoned private ends? But, unfortunate, what are you doingat this moment? You are exalting your services; and when the firstmoment of trial comes, you rise like a wild horse, and shout, 'I willnot go!' The mother is perishing; new swords are piercing her breast,and you turn away from her. You do not wish to support her with yourarm; you are running after your own fortune, and crying, 'I will notgo!' She is stretching forth bleeding hands; she is just falling, justfainting, just dying, and with her last voice cries, 'Rescue me,children!' But you answer, 'I will not go!' Woe to you! Woe to suchpeople, woe to the Co
mmonwealth!"

  Here terror raised the hair on Pan Andrei's head, and his whole bodybegan to tremble as if fever had seized it; and that moment he fellwith his face to the earth, and began not to cry, but to scream interror,--

  "O Jesus, do not punish! Jesus, have mercy! Thy will be done! I willgo, I will go!"

  Then he lay some time without speaking, and sobbed; and when he rose atlast, he had a face full of resignation and perfectly calm; and thus heprayed further,--

  "Wonder not, O Lord, that I grieve, for I was on the eve of myhappiness; but let it be as Thou hast ordained. I understand now thatThou didst wish to try me, and therefore didst place me as it were onthe parting of the roads. Let Thy will be done. Once more I will notlook behind. To Thee, O Lord, I offer this my terrible sorrow, this myyearning, this my grievous suffering. Let it all be accounted to me inpunishment because I spared Prince Boguslav, at which the country wept.Thou seest now, O Lord, that that was my last work for self-interest.There will be no other. O merciful Father! But now I will kiss oncemore this beloved earth; yes, I will press Thy bleeding feet again, andI go, O Christ! I go--"

  And he went.

  In the heavenly register in which are written the evil and good deedsof men, his sins were at that moment all blotted out, for he wascompletely corrected.