CHAPTER XXXVI.
Two days later in the morning Horpyna sat with Bogun under the willownear the mill-wheel, and looked at the water foaming on it.
"You will be careful of her, you will guard her, you will not let youreye off her, so that she shall never leave the glen."
"The glen has a narrow neck near the river, but there is space enoughhere. Order the neck to be filled with stones, and we shall be as if inthe bottom of a jug. When I need to go out I shall find a way."
"How do you live here?"
"Cheremis plants corn under the cliffs, cultivates grapes, and snareswild fowl. With what you have brought she will want nothing unlessbird's milk. Have no fear! She will not leave the glen, and no one willknow of her unless your men say she is here."
"I have made them swear silence. They are faithful fellows; they willsay nothing, even if straps were torn from their skin. But you saidyourself that people came here to you as to a soothsayer."
"Sometimes they come from Rashkoff, and sometimes when they hear of methey come from God knows what places. But they stay at the river; noone enters the glen, for they are afraid. You saw the bones. These werepeople who wished to enter; their bones are lying around."
"Did you kill them?"
"Whoever killed them, killed them! Those in search of soothsaying waitat the opening of the glen and I go to the wheel. What I see in thewater, I tell them. I shall examine for you directly, but I don't knowwhether anything will be seen, for it does not always appear."
"If only you see nothing bad!"
"If I see something bad, you will not go; and in that case it would bebetter not to go."
"I must. Hmelnitski sent me a letter to Bar to return, and Krivonosordered me. The Poles are marching on us now with great forces, so wemust concentrate."
"When will you come back?"
"I know not. There will be a great battle such as has not been yet.Either death to us or to the Poles. If they beat us, I will hide here;if we are victorious, I will come for my cuckoo and take her to Kieff."
"And if you perish?"
"Being a witch, it is for you to tell."
"But if you perish?"
"Once my mother bore me."
"Oh, pshaw! But what shall I do with the girl,--twist her neck, orhow?"
"But touch her with your hand and I will have you drawn on a stake withoxen." The chief fell into gloomy thought. "If I perish, tell her toforgive me."
"Ah, she is a thankless Pole that for such love she does not love. If Iwere wooed in that way, I should not resist you." Saying this, Horpynanudged the chief in the side twice, showing all her teeth in laughter.
"Go to the devil!" said the Cossack.
"Oh, be quiet! I know that you are not for me."
Bogun looked into the foaming water on the wheel as if he wishedhimself to soothsay.
"Horpyna!" said he after a while.
"Well, what is it?"
"When I have gone will she be sorry for me?"
"If you are not willing to constrain her in Cossack fashion, thenperhaps it is better for you to go."
"I will not, I cannot, I dare not. I know that she would die."
"Then maybe it is better for you to go. While she sees you she will notwish to know you, but when she has been a couple of months with me andCheremis, you will be dearer to her."
"If she were well, I know what I should do. I should bring a priestfrom Rashkoff and have a marriage celebrated; but now I am afraid, forif she were frightened, she would die. You have seen yourself."
"Leave us in peace. What do you want of a priest and a marriage? Youare not a real Cossack. I want neither Pole nor Russian priest here.There are Dobrudja Tartars in Rashkoff, you want to get them on ourshoulders too; and if you should bring them, how much of the princesswould you see? What has got into your head? Go your way and come back."
"But look in the water and tell me what you see. Tell the truth anddon't lie, even if you should see me dead."
Dontsovna approached the mill-stream and raised a gate holding back thewater at the fall. All at once the swift current rushed with redoubledforce, the wheel began to turn more swiftly, until at last it wascovered with liquid dust; the foam, beaten fine, rolled under the wheellike boiling water.
The witch bent her eyes into the boiling mass and seizing the tressesnear her ears, began to cry,--
"I call! I call! Appear! In the oaken wheel, in the white foam, in theclear mist, whether evil, whether good, appear!"
Bogun approached and sat at her side. His face denoted fear andfeverish curiosity.
"I see!" screamed the witch.
"What do you see?"
"The death of my brother. Two bullocks are drawing him on a stake."
"To the devil with your brother!" muttered Bogun, who wished to knowsomething else.
For a time was heard only the thunder of the wheel whirling around infury.
"Blue is my brother's head, how blue! The ravens are tearing it," saidthe witch.
"What else do you see?"
"Nothing. Oh, how blue! I call! I call! In the oaken wheel, in thewhite foam, in the clear mist, appear! I see--"
"What?"
"A battle! The Poles are fleeing before the Cossacks."
"And I am pursuing?"
"I see you too. You encounter a little knight. Hur! hur! hur! Be onyour guard against the little knight."
"And the princess?"
"She is not there. I see you again, and with you some one who isbetraying you,--your false friend."
Bogun was devouring with his eyes at one instant the foam, at anotherHorpyna; and at the same time he worked with his brain to aid thesoothsaying.
"What friend?"
"I don't see. I don't know whether old or young."
"Old, he must be old!"
"Maybe he is old!"
"I know who he is. He has betrayed me once already. An old noble with ablue beard and a white eye. Death to him! But he is not a friend ofmine."
"He is lying in wait for you, I see again--Stop! the princess is heretoo; she is in a crown, a white dress, above her a hawk."
"That is I."
"Maybe it is. A hawk--or a falcon? A hawk!"
"That is I."
"Wait! All has vanished. In the oaken wheel, in the white foam-- Oh!oh! many soldiers, many Cossacks, oh, many, like trees in the forest orthistles in the steppes; and you are above all,--they are bearing threebunchuk standards before you."
"And the princess is with me?"
"She is not; you are in the camp."
The wheel roared till the whole mill trembled.
"Oh, how much blood, how much blood! how many corpses,--wolves abovethem, ravens above them, plague above them! Corpses and corpses,--faraway nothing but corpses, nothing to be seen but blood!"
Suddenly a breath of wind whirled the mist from the wheel; and at thesame time higher up above the mill appeared the deformed Cheremis witha bundle of wood on his shoulders.
"Cheremis, let down the sluice!" cried the girl.
When she had said this she went to wash her hands and face in thestream, and the dwarf stopped the water at once.
Bogun sat in thought. He was roused first by the coming of Horpyna.
"You saw nothing more?" he asked.
"What appeared, appeared; I shall see nothing more."
"And you are not lying?"
"By my brother's head, I spoke the truth. They were empaling him,drawing him on with oxen. I grieve for him. But death is written notfor him alone. Oh, what bodies appeared! Never have I seen so many;there will be a great war in the world."
"And you saw her with a hawk above her head?"
"Yes."
"And was she in a wreath?"
"In a wreath and a white robe."
"And how do you know that that hawk was I? I spoke to you of that youngPolish noble,--maybe it was he?"
The girl wrinkled her brows and grew thoughtful. "No," said she after awhile, shakin
g her head; "if it had been the Pole, it would have beenan eagle."
"Glory to God, glory to God! I will go now to the Cossacks to preparethe horses for the road. We go to-night."
"So you are going surely?"
"Hmelnitski has ordered, and Krivonos too. You know well that therewill be a great war, for I read the same in Bar in a letter fromHmelnitski."
Bogun in reality could not read, but he was ashamed of it; he did notwish to pass for illiterate.
"Then go!" said the witch. "You are lucky,--you will be hetman. I sawthree bunchuks above you as I see these fingers."
"And I shall be hetman and marry the princess,--I cannot take apeasant."
"You would talk differently with a peasant girl, but you are afraid ofher. You should be a Pole."
"I am no worse."
Bogun now went to the stable to the Cossacks, and Horpyna set aboutpreparing dinner.
In the evening the horses were ready for the road, but the chief was inno hurry to depart. He sat on a roll of carpets in the chamber, withlute in hand, and looked on his princess, who had risen from the couch,but had thrust herself into the other corner of the room, and wasrepeating in silence the rosary without paying any heed to the chief,just as if he had not been in the room. He, on the contrary, followedwith his eyes every movement of hers, caught with his ears every sigh,and knew not what to do with himself. From time to time he opened hismouth to begin conversation, but the words would not leave his throat.The face pale, silent, and with an expression of decisive sternness inthe brows and mouth, deprived him of courage. Bogun had not seen thisexpression on the princess before, and involuntarily he rememberedsimilar evenings at Rozlogi, which appeared before him as if real,--howthey sat, he and the Kurtsevichi around an oaken table, the oldprincess husking sunflower seeds, the princes throwing dice from a cup,he looking on the beautiful princess just as he was looking now. But inthe old time he was happy, for then he told of his expeditions with theZaporojians, she listened, and at times her dark eyes rested on hisface, and her open red lips showed with what interest she listened; nowshe would not even look. Then when he played on the lute she wouldlisten and look, till the heart melted within him. And, wonder ofwonders, he is now master of her,--he has taken her with armed hand;she is his captive, his prisoner; he can command her. But neverthelessin the old time he felt himself nearer, more her equal in rank. TheKurtsevichi were her cousins, she was as a sister; she was not only hiscuckoo, falcon, dearest, dark-browed, but also a relative. Now she sitsbefore him a proud lady, gloomy, silent, merciless. Ah, but anger isboiling within him! He would like to show her what it means to slight aCossack; but he loves this merciless woman, he would shed his blood forher. But how many times had anger seized his breast! when suddenly anunseen hand, as it were, grasps him by the hair, and a voice shouts inhis ear, "Stop!" He belches forth something like a flame, beats hisforehead on the earth, and stops. The Cossack squirms now, for he feelsthat he is oppressive to her in that room. Let her but smile and give akind word, he would fall at her feet and go to the devil, to drown inPolish blood all his grief and anger together with the insult put uponhim. But in that room he is like a captive before that princess. If hehad not known her of old, if she were a Pole taken from the first noblecastle, he would have more daring; but she is Princess Helena, for whomhe had asked the Kurtsevichi, and for whom he was willing to give upRozlogi and all he had. And the more ashamed he is of being a slavebefore her, the less bold is he.
An hour passed. From before the cottage came the murmur of the talk ofthe Cossacks, who were surely in their saddles and waiting for theataman; but the ataman was in torture. The bright light of the torchfalls on his face, on the rich kontush, and on the lute. And she--ifshe would even look! The ataman felt bitter, angry, sad, and awkward.He would like to bid farewell with tenderness, and he fears theparting,--fears that it will not be such as from his soul hedesires,--fears to go away in bitterness, anger, and pain.
Oh, if she were not that Princess Helena,--the Princess Helena stabbedwith a knife, threatening death with her own hand; but dear, dear, andthe more cruel and proud, the dearer is she!
Then a horse neighed near the window. The chief mustered courage.
"Princess," said he, "it is already my hour for the road."
She was silent.
"And you will not say to me, 'With God'?"
"Go, with God!" said she, with dignity.
The Cossack's heart was pressed. She said the words he wanted, but notin the way he wanted.
"Well I know," said he, "that you are angry with me, that you hate me;but I tell you that another would have been worse to you than I. Ibrought you here, for I could not do otherwise; but what harm have Idone you? Have not I treated you well, like a queen? Tell me yourself.Am I such an outlaw that you will not give me a kind word? And,moreover, you are in my power."
"I am in the power of God," said she, with the same dignity as before;"but because you restrain yourself in my presence, I thank you forthat."
"Then I go with even such a word. Maybe you will regret me; maybe youwill be sorry."
Helena was silent.
"I am sorry to leave you here alone," said Bogun, "sorry to go away;but I must. It would be easier for me if you were to smile, if you wereto give a crucifix with a sincere heart. What can I do to appease you?"
"Give me back my freedom, and God will forgive you all, and I willforgive and bless you."
"Maybe you will forgive me yet; maybe you will be sorry yet that youhave been so harsh to me."
Bogun wished to buy a word of farewell, even for half a promise whichhe did not think of keeping, and got what he wanted, for a light ofhope gleamed in Helena's eyes and the harshness vanished from her face.She crossed her arms on her breast and fixed a clear glance on him.
"If you would only--"
"Well, I don't know," said the Cossack, in a low voice, for shame andpity seized him at the same time by the throat. "I cannot now, Icannot. The Tartars are in the Wilderness, their parties are goingeverywhere. The Dobrudja Tartars are moving from Rashkoff. I cannot,for it is terrible; but when I come back--I am a child in yourpresence, you can do what you like with me--I don't know, I don'tknow--"
"May God inspire you! May the Holy Most Pure inspire you! God go withyou!" And she stretched out her hand to him.
Bogun sprang forward and fastened his lips on it. Suddenly he raisedhis head, met her look of dignity, and dropped her hand. Thenretreating toward the door, he bowed to his girdle in Cossack fashion,bowed again at the door, and disappeared behind the curtain.
Soon there came through the window animated conversation, a clatter ofarms, and later the words of a song in several voices:--
"Glorious fame will rise Among the Cossacks, Among the heroes, For many a year, Till the end of time."
The voices and clatter retreated, and grew fainter each moment.
Ogniem i mieczem. English Page 38
