Ogniem i mieczem. English

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER XL.

  Zagloba lay bound hand and foot to his own sabre, which was passedacross behind his knees, in that same room in which the wedding wascelebrated. The terrible chief sat at some distance on a bench, andfeasted his eyes on the terror of the prisoner.

  "Good-evening!" said he, seeing the open lids of his victim.

  Zagloba made no answer, but in one twinkle of an eye came to his sensesas if he had never put a drop of wine to his mouth; the ants which hadgone down to his heels returned to his head, and the marrow in hisbones grew cold as ice. They say that a drowning man in the last momentsees clearly all his past,--that he remembers everything, and giveshimself an account of that which is happening to him. Such clearness ofvision and memory Zagloba possessed in that hour; and the lastexpression of that clearness was a silent cry, unspoken by the lips,--

  "He will give me a flaying now."

  And the leader repeated, with a quiet voice: "Good-evening!"

  "Brr!" thought Zagloba, "I would rather go to the furies."

  "Don't you know me, lord noble?"

  "With the forehead, with the forehead! How is your health?"

  "Not bad; but as to yours, I'll occupy myself with that."

  "I have not asked God for such a doctor, and I doubt if I could digestyour medicine; but the will of God be done."

  "Well, you cured me; now I'll return thanks. We are old friends. Youremember how you bound my head in Rozlogi, do you not?"

  Bogun's eyes began to glitter like two carbuncles, and the line of hismustaches extended in a terrible smile.

  "I remember," said Zagloba, "that I might have stabbed you, and I didnot."

  "But have I stabbed you, or do I think to stab you? No! For me you area darling, a dear; and I will guard you as the eye in my head."

  "I have always said that you are an honorable cavalier," said Zagloba,pretending to take Bogun's words in earnest. At the same time throughhis mind flew the thought: "It is evident that he is meditating somespecial delicacy for me. I shall not die in simple style."

  "You speak well," continued Bogun. "You too are an honorable cavalier;so we have sought and found each other."

  "What is true is that I have not sought you; but I thank you for thegood word."

  "You will thank me still more before long; and I will thank you forthis, that you took the young woman from Rozlogi to Bar. There I foundher; and I would ask you to the wedding, but it will not be to-day norto-morrow,--there is war at present,--and you are an old man, perhapsyou will not live to see it."

  Zagloba, notwithstanding the terrible position in which he foundhimself, pricked up his ears. "To the wedding!" he muttered.

  "But what did you think?" asked Bogun. "That I was a peasant, toconstrain her without a priest, or not to insist on being married inKieff. You brought her to Bar not for a peasant, but for an ataman anda hetman."

  "Very good!" thought Zagloba. Then he turned his head to Bogun. "Givethe order to unbind me," said he.

  "Oh, lie awhile, lie awhile! You will go on a journey. You are an oldman, and you need rest before the road."

  "Where do you wish to take me?"

  "You are my friend, so I will take you to my other friend, Krivonos.Then we shall both think how to make it pleasant for you."

  "It will be hot for me," muttered Zagloba; and again the ants werewalking over his back. At last he began to speak:--

  "I know that you are enraged at me; but unjustly, God knows. We livedtogether, and in Chigirin we drank more than one bottle. I had for youthe love of a father for your knightly daring; a better love you didnot find in the whole Ukraine. Isn't that true? In what way have Icrossed your path? If I had not gone with you to Rozlogi, we shouldhave lived to this day in kind friendship; and why did I go if not outof friendship for you? And if you had not become enraged, if you hadnot killed those unhappy people,--God is looking at me,--I should nothave crossed your path. Why should I mix in other men's affairs? Iwould have preferred to see the girl yours; but through your Tartarcourtship my conscience was moved, and besides it was a noble's house.You yourself would not have acted otherwise. I might, moreover, haveswept you out of the world with the greatest gain to myself. And whydid I not do it? Because I am a noble. Be ashamed of yourself too, forI know you wish to take vengeance on me. As it is, you have the girl inyour hands. What do you want of me? Have not I guarded as the eye in myhead this your property? Since you have respected her it is to be seenthat you have knightly honor and conscience; but how will you extend toher the hand which you steep in my innocent blood? How will you say toher, 'The man who led you through the mob and the Tartars I deliveredto torment'? Have shame, and let me go from these bonds and from thiscaptivity into which you have seized me by treachery. You are young,and know not what may meet you, and for my death God will punish you inthat which is dearest to you."

  Bogun rose from the bench, pale with rage, and approaching Zagloba,began to speak in a voice stifled with fury,--

  "Unclean swine! I will have straps torn from you, I'll burn you on aslow fire, I'll drive spikes into you, I'll tear you into rags."

  In an access of fury he grasped at the knife hanging from his belt, andfor a moment pressed it convulsively in his hand. The edge was alreadygleaming in Zagloba's eyes, when the chief restrained himself, thrustthe knife back into the scabbard, and cried: "Boys!"

  Six Zaporojians came into the room.

  "Take that Polish carrion, throw it into the stable, and guard it asthe eye in your head!"

  The Cossacks took Zagloba,--two by his hands and feet, one behind bythe hair,--and carrying him out of the house bore him through the yard,and threw him on a dung-heap in the stable standing at one side. Thenthey closed the door. Complete darkness surrounded the prisoner, but inthe cracks between the wall-planks and through holes in the thatch thedim light of night penetrated here and there. After a while Zagloba'seyes grew accustomed to the darkness. He looked around, and saw therewere no pigs in the stable, nor Cossacks. The conversation of thelatter, however, reached him clearly through all the four walls.Evidently the whole building was surrounded closely; but in spite ofthese guards Zagloba drew a long breath.

  First of all, he was alive. When Bogun flashed his knife above him hewas convinced that his last moment had come, and he recommended hissoul to God,--it is true with the greatest fear. But evidently Bogundecided to save him for a death incomparably more complicated. Hedesired not only to take revenge, but to glut himself with vengeance onthe man who had stolen from him the beauty, belittled his Cossackglory, and covered him with ridicule, swaddling him like a baby. It wastherefore a gloomy prospect for Pan Zagloba; but he was comforted bythe thought that he was still living, that likely they would take himto Krivonos and begin to torture him there, and consequently he had afew, perhaps a number of days before him. In the mean while he lay inthe stable alone, and could in the midst of the quiet night think ofstratagems.

  That was the one good side of the affair; but when he thought of thebad ones the ants began to travel over his spine in thousands.

  "Stratagems! If a pig lay here in this stable, he would have morestratagems than I, for they would not tie him crosswise to a sabre. IfSolomon had been bound in this way, he would have been no wiser thanhis trousers or my boot-heel. Oh, my God, my God, for what dost thoupunish me? Of all people in the world I wanted most to avoid thisscoundrel, and such is my luck that he is just the man I have notavoided. I shall have my skin dressed like sviboda cloth. If anotherhad taken me, I might promise to join the rebellion and then run away.But another would not have believed me, and this one least of all. Ifeel my heart dying within me. The devils have brought me to thisplace. Oh, my God! my God!"

  But after a while Zagloba thought that if he had his hands and feetfree, he might more easily use some stratagem. Well, let him try! If hecould only push the sword from under his knees, the rest would go onmore easily. But how was he to push it out? He turned on his side, hecould do nothing; then he f
ell into deep thought.

  Next he began to rock himself on his back with increasing rapidity,each moment pushing himself half the length of his body ahead. He gotheated; his forehead was in greater perspiration than during the dance.At times he stopped and rested; at times he interrupted the work, forit appeared some one of the Cossacks was coming to the door; then hebegan with renewed ardor. At last he pushed himself forward to thewall.

  After that he began to sway in another direction, not from head tofoot, but from side to side, so that every time he struck lightlyagainst the wall with the sabre, which was pushed in this way fromunder his knees, moving more and more toward the middle of the stablefrom the side of the hilt. Zagloba's heart began to beat like a hammer,for he saw that this method might be effectual.

  He worked on, trying to strike with the least noise, and only when theconversation of the Cossacks was louder than the light blow. At lastthe moment came when the end of the sheath was on a line with his wristand his knee, and further striking against the wall could not push itout. But hanging from the other side was a considerable and muchheavier part of the sabre, taking into consideration the hilt with thecross usually on sabres. Zagloba counted on that cross.

  He began to rock himself for the third time, but now the great objectof his efforts was to turn himself with his feet toward the wall.Attaining this, he began to push himself up with his feet. The sabrestill clung under his knees and his hands, but the hilt became more andmore involved in the uneven surface of the ground. At length the crosscaught rather firmly. Zagloba pushed the last time. For a moment joynailed him to the spot; the sabre had dropped out.

  He removed his hands then from his knees, and though they were stillbound he caught the sabre with them. He held the scabbard with his feetand drew out the blade. To cut the bonds on his feet was the work of amoment. It was more difficult in the case of his hands. He was obligedto put his sabre on the ground with the edge up, and draw the cordsalong the edge until he had cut them. When he had done this he was notonly free from bonds, but armed. He drew a long breath, then made asign of the cross and began to thank God.

  But it was very far yet from the cutting of the bonds to the rescuingof himself from the hands of Bogun.

  "What further?" asked Zagloba of himself.

  He found no answer. The stable was surrounded by Cossacks; there wereabout a hundred. A mouse could not have passed through unobserved, andwhat could a man as bulky as Zagloba do?

  "I see that I am beginning to come to the end of my resources," said heto himself. "My wit is only good to grease boots with, and you couldbuy better grease than it from the Hungarians at the fair. If God doesnot send me some idea, then I shall become roast meat for the crows;but if he does send me an idea, then I promise to remain in continencelike Pan Longin."

  The louder conversation of the Cossacks behind the wall interrupted histhoughts. He sprang up and put his ear to a crack between the timbers.The dry pine gave back the voices like the sounding-board of a lute.

  "And where shall we go from here, Father Ovsivuyu?" asked one voice.

  "To Kamenyets, of course," said another.

  "Nonsense! The horses can barely drag their legs; they will not getthere."

  "That's why we stop here; they will have rest by morning."

  A moment of silence followed; then the first voice was heard lower thanbefore. "And it seems to me, father, that the ataman is going fromKamenyets to Yampol."

  Zagloba held his breath.

  "Be silent if your young head is dear to you!" was the answer.

  Another moment of silence, but from behind the other walls camewhispering.

  "They are all around, on the watch everywhere," muttered Zagloba; andhe went to the opposite wall. Meanwhile were heard the noise of chewingoats and the snorting of horses evidently standing right there; amongthese horses the Cossacks were lying on the ground and talking, fortheir voices came from below.

  "Ah!" said one, "we have come here without sleeping, eating, or feedingour horses, so as to go on the stake in the camp of Yeremi."

  "The people who have fled from Yarmolintsi saw him as I see you. Whatthey tell is a terror. He is as big as a pine-tree; in his forehead aretwo firebrands, and he has a dragon under him for a horse."

  "Lord, have mercy on us!"

  "We ought to take that Pole with the soldiers and be off."

  "How be off, when as it is the horses are just dying?"

  "A bad fix, brother! If I were the ataman, I would cut off the heads ofthose Poles, and go back to Kamenyets, even on foot."

  "We will take him with us to Kamenyets, and there our ataman will playwith him."

  "The devils will play with you first!" muttered Zagloba.

  And, indeed, in spite of all his fear of Bogun, and maybe especiallybecause of that, he had sworn that he would not yield himself alive. Hewas free from bonds, and he had a sabre in his hands,--he would defendhimself. If they cut him to pieces, all right; but they wouldn't takehim alive.

  The snorting and groaning of horses excessively road-weary drowned thesound of further conversation, and immediately gave a certain idea toZagloba.

  "If I could get through the wall," thought he, "and jump on horsebacksuddenly--it is night, and before they could see what happened I shouldbe out of sight. It is hard enough to chase through the ravines andvalleys by sunlight, but what must it be in the dark? God grant me anopportunity!"

  But an opportunity was not to be obtained easily. It was necessaryeither to throw down the wall--and to do that he would have to be PanPodbipienta--or to burrow under it like a fox; and then they wouldsurely hear, discover, and seize the fugitive by the neck before hecould touch the stirrup with his foot. A thousand stratagems crowdedinto Zagloba's head; but for the very reason that they were a thousandno one of them presented itself clearly.

  "It cannot be otherwise; only with my life can I pay," thought he.

  Then he went toward the third wall. All at once he struck his headagainst something hard. He felt; it was a ladder. The stable was notfor pigs, but for buffaloes, and half the length it had a loft forstraw and hay. Zagloba without a moment's hesitation climbed up. Thenhe sat down, drew breath, and began slowly to pull up the ladder afterhim.

  "Well, now I am in a fortress!" he muttered. "Even if they should findanother ladder, they couldn't bring it here very quickly; and if Idon't split the forehead of the man who comes here, then I'll givemyself to be smoked into bacon. Oh, devil take it!" he burst out aftera while, "in truth they cannot only smoke me, but fry and melt me intotallow. But let them burn the stable if they wish,--all right! Theywon't get me alive; and it is all the same whether the crows eat me rawor roasted. If I only escape those robber hands, I don't care for therest; and I have hope that something will happen yet."

  Zagloba passed easily, it is evident, from the lowest despair tohope,--in fact, such hope entered him as if he were already in the campof Prince Yeremi. But still his position had not improved much. He wassitting on the loft, and he had a sabre in his hand; he might ward offan attack for some time, but that was all. From the loft to freedom wasa road like jumping from the stove on your forehead,--with thisdifference, that below the sabres and pikes of the Cossacks watchingaround the walls were waiting for him.

  "Something will happen!" muttered Zagloba; and approaching the roof hebegan to separate quietly and remove the thatch, so as to gain forhimself an outlook into the world. This was easily done, for theCossacks talked continually under the walls, wishing to kill the tediumof watching; and besides there sprang up a rather strong breeze, whichdeadened with its movement among the neighboring trees the noise whichwas made in removing the bundles. After a time the aperture was ready.Zagloba stuck his head through it and began to look around.

  The night had already begun to wane, and on the eastern horizonappeared the first glimmer of day. By the pale light Zagloba saw thewhole yard filled with horses; in front of the cottage rows of sleepingCossacks, stretched out like long indefinite lines; farther o
n thewell-sweep and the trough, in which water was glistening; and near itagain a rank of sleeping men and a number of Cossacks with drawn sabresin their hands walking along that line.

  "There are my men, bound with ropes," muttered Zagloba. "Bah!" he addedafter a while, "if they were mine! But they are the prince's. I was agood leader to them; there is nothing to be said on that point. I ledthem into the mouth of the dog. It will be a shame to show my eyesif God returns me freedom. And through what was all this? Throughlove-making and drinking. What was it to me that trash were marrying? Ihad as much business at this wedding as at a dog's wedding. I willrenounce this traitorous mead, which crawls into the legs, not thehead. All the evil in the world is from drinking; for if they hadfallen upon us while sober, I should have gained the victory in a triceand shut Bogun up in this stable."

  Zagloba's gaze fell again on the cottage in which the chief wassleeping, and rested at its door.

  "Sleep on, you scoundrel!" he muttered, "sleep! And may you dream thatthe devils are skinning you,--a thing which will not miss you in anycase! You wanted to make a sieve out of my skin; try to crawl up to mehere, and we shall see if I do not cut yours so that it wouldn't do tomake boots for a dog. If I could only get myself out of this place,--ifI could only get out! But how?"

  Indeed the problem was not to be solved. The whole yard was so packedwith men and horses that even if Zagloba had got out of the stable,even if he had pushed through the thatch and sprung on one of thehorses that stood right there, he could in no wise have pushed to thegate; and then how was he to get beyond the gate? Still, it seemed tohim that he had solved more than half the problem. He was free, armed,and he sat in the loft as in a fortress.

  "What the devil good is there," thought he, "in getting out of the ropeif you are to be hanged with it afterward?" And again stratagems beganto bustle in his head; but there were so many of them that he could notchoose.

  Meanwhile the light increased, the places around the cottage began toemerge from the shadow; the thatch of the cottage was covered as if bysilver. Zagloba could distinguish accurately particular groups; hecould see the red uniforms of his men, who were lying around the well,and the sheepskin coats under which the Cossacks were sleeping near thecottage.

  Then suddenly some figure rose from the rank of the sleepers and beganto pass with slow step through the yard, halting here and there nearmen and horses, speaking for a moment with the Cossacks who wereguarding the prisoners, and at last approached the stable. Zaglobasupposed at first that it was Bogun, for he saw that the guards spoketo that figure as subordinates to a superior.

  "Eh!" he muttered, "if I had a musket now, I would show you how tocover yourself with your feet."

  At this moment the figure raised its head, and on its face fell thegray light of the morning. It was not Bogun, but the sotnik Golody,whom Zagloba recognized at once, for he knew Golody well from the timeof his own intimacy with Bogun in Chigirin.

  "Well, boys, you are not asleep?" said Golody.

  "No, father, though we should like to sleep. It is about time to changeguard."

  "It will be changed immediately. And that devil's imp has not gotaway?"

  "No, no!--unless the soul has gone out of him, father, for he hasn'tmoved."

  "Ah! he is an old fox. But look, see what he is doing, for he would gothrough the ground."

  "This minute!" answered a number of Cossacks, going to the door of thestable.

  "Throw out hay from the mow! Rub the horses! We will start at sunrise."

  "All right, father!"

  Zagloba, leaving at once his lookout in the opening of the thatch,crawled to the hole in the floor. At the same moment he heard the creakof the wooden hinges and the rustling of the straw under the feet ofthe Cossacks. His heart beat like a hammer in his breast, and hepressed the hilt of the sabre in his hand, renewing in his soul theoath that he would resign himself to be burned with the stable or becut to pieces rather than be taken alive. He expected every moment thatthe Cossacks would raise a fearful uproar, but he was deceived. For atime he heard them walking more and more quickly through the wholestable. At last one said,--

  "What the devil is the matter? I can't find him. We threw him in here."

  "He isn't a werewolf, is he? Strike a light, Vassily; it is as darkhere as in a forest."

  A moment of silence followed. Evidently Vassily was looking for flintand tinder, while the other Cossacks began to call in a low voice:"Where are you?"

  "Kiss the dog's ear!" muttered Zagloba.

  Steel struck flint, a cluster of sparks flashed forth and lighted thedark interior of the stable and the heads of the Cossacks in theircaps, then deeper darkness came down again.

  "He is not here! he is not here!" cried excited voices.

  That moment one sprang to the door. "Father Golody! Father Golody!"

  "What's the matter?" cried the sotnik, approaching the door.

  "There is no Pole."

  "How, no Pole?"

  "He has gone into the ground; he isn't anywhere. O God, have mercy onus! We struck fire; he is not here."

  "Impossible! Oh, you will catch it from the ataman! Has he escaped, orhow is it? You have been asleep."

  "No, father, we have not slept. He didn't get out of the stable on ourside."

  "Be quiet! don't wake the ataman. If he hasn't gone out, then he mustbe here. Have you looked everywhere?"

  "Everywhere."

  "On the loft too?"

  "How could he crawl on the loft when he was bound?"

  "You fool! If he hadn't unbound himself, he would be here. Look on theloft! Strike a light!"

  Sparks flashed again. The news flew in a moment among all the guards.They began to crowd to the stable with the haste usual on suddenoccasions; hurried steps were heard, hurried questions and still morehurried answers. Advices crossed one another like swords in battle.

  "To the loft! to the loft!"

  "But watch outside!"

  "Don't wake the ataman; if you do, there will be terror."

  "The ladder is gone!"

  "Bring another!"

  "There is none anywhere."

  "Run to the cottage; see if there is one there."

  "Oh, curse the Pole!"

  "Go up the corners to the thatch; get in through the thatch."

  "Impossible; for the roof projects and is fastened with planks."

  "Bring the lances; we will go up on the lances. Ah, the dog! he hashauled up the ladder."

  "Bring the lances!" roared Golody.

  Some ran for the lances, while others stretched their heads up towardthe loft. Already scattered light penetrated through the open door intothe stable; and with its uncertain gleam was to be seen the squareopening in the loft, black and silent. From below were heard singlevoices.

  "Now, sir noble, let down the ladder and come. You won't get away,anyhow; why put people to trouble? Come down, oh, come down!"

  Silence.

  "You are a wise man. If it would do you any good, you might stay upthere; but since it won't help you, come down of your own accord, be agood fellow."

  Silence.

  "Come down! If you don't, we will skin your head and throw youhead-first into the dung-heap."

  Zagloba was as deaf to threats as to coaxing, sitting in the dark likea badger in his hole, preparing for a stubborn defence. He only graspedhis sabre tighter, panted a little, and whispered his prayers.

  Lances were now brought, three of them tied together, and placed withtheir points to the opening. The thought flashed through Zagloba's mindto grasp and draw them up; but he thought that the roof might be toolow, and he couldn't draw them up entirely. Besides, others would bebrought at once. Meanwhile the stable became crowded with Cossacks.Some held torches, others brought from wagons all kinds of ladders andpoles, every one of which turned out to be too short; these they lashedtogether hurriedly with straps, for it was really difficult to climb onthe lances. Still they found volunteers.

  "I'll go," called a number of v
oices.

  "Wait for the ladder!" said Golody.

  "And what harm is it, father, to try on the lances?"

  "Vassily will climb; he goes like a cat."

  "Let him try."

  But others began to joke immediately. "Be careful! he has a sabre; hewill cut your head off. Look out! he will grab you by the head, dragyou in, and treat you as a bear would."

  But Vassily didn't allow himself to be frightened. "He knows," saidVassily, "that if he should lay a finger on me the ataman would givehim the devil to eat; and you, brothers."

  This was a warning to Zagloba, who sat quietly, and did not evenmutter.

  But the Cossacks, as is usual among soldiers, got into good humor, forthe whole affair began to amuse them; so they kept on teasing Vassily.

  "There will be one blockhead less in the white world."

  "He won't think how we shall pay him for your head. He is a bold hero."

  "Ho, ho! He is a werewolf. The devil knows into what form he has turnedalready. He is a wizard! Can't tell, Vassily, whom you will find therebehind the opening."

  Vassily, who had already spat on his palms and was just grasping thelances by the stem, stopped suddenly. "I'll go against a Pole," saidhe, "but not against the devil."

  But now the ladders were lashed together and placed at the opening. Itwas difficult to climb them, too, for they bent immediately where theywere tied, and the slender round cracked under the feet, which wereplaced on the lowest one to try. But Golody himself began to ascend;while going, he said,--

  "My dear noble, you see that there is no joking here. If you have madeup your mind to stay up there, stay; but don't fight, for we will getyou anyhow, even if we have to pull the stable to pieces. Have sense!"

  At last his head reached the opening and went through it slowly. All atonce the whiz of a sabre was heard. The Cossack screamed fearfully,tottered, and fell, with his head cut in two.

  "Cut! slash!" roared the Cossacks.

  A fearful tumult began in the stable. Shouts and cries were raised,which were overborne by the thundering voice of Zagloba,--

  "Oh, you scoundrels, you man-eaters, you basilisks! I'll cut you topieces, you mangy ruffians! You'll know a knightly hand. Attackinghonest people by night, shutting a noble in a stable! Scoundrels! Cometo me by ones or by twos, only come! Come along; but you'll leave yourheads on the dung-heap, for I'll hew them off, as I live."

  "Cut! cut!" shouted the Cossacks.

  "We will burn the stable."

  "I'll burn it myself, you ox-tails, and you with it."

  "Several,--several at a time!" shouted an old Cossack. "Support theladder, prop it with lances, take bundles of hay on your heads and goon! We must get him."

  Then he mounted, and with him two comrades. The rounds began to break,the ladders bent still more; but more than twelve strong hands seizedthem by the sides propped by the lances, others thrust the points oflances through the opening to ward off the blows of the sabre.

  A few moments later three bodies fell on the heads of those standingbelow. Zagloba, heated by his triumph, bellowed like a buffalo, andpoured out such curses as the world had never heard, and from which thesouls of the Cossacks would have died within them, if fury had notbegun to possess them. Some thrust their lances into the loft; othershurried on the ladders, though sure death waited them in the opening.Suddenly a shout was heard at the door, and into the stable rushedBogun himself. He was without a cap, in trousers and shirt; in his handwas a drawn sabre, and in his eyes fire.

  "Through the thatch!" he shouted. "Tear the thatch apart and take himalive!"

  But Zagloba, seeing him, roared: "Ruffian, just come up here! I'll cutoff your nose and ears. I won't touch your neck, for that belongs tothe hangman. Well, are you afraid, my urchin?" Then Zagloba said to theCossacks: "Tie that scoundrel for me, and you will all be pardoned.Well, gallows-bird! well, Jews' picture! I am alone here; only showyour head on this loft! Come, come! I shall be glad to see you, I'llgive you such a reception that you'll remember it with your father thedevil, and your mother a harlot."

  The poles of the roof now began to crack. It was evident the Cossackswere up there and tearing through the thatch.

  Zagloba heard, but fear didn't deprive him of power; he was as if drunkwith the battle and with blood. "I'll spring to the corner and perishthere," thought he.

  But that instant gun-shots were heard in the yard. A number of Cossacksrushed to the stable. "Father! father!" they shouted. "This way!"

  Zagloba at the first moment did not understand what had happened, andwas astonished. He looked down through the opening; there was no onethere. The rafters were not cracking.

  "What is it? what has happened?" he cried aloud. "Ah! I understand.They want to burn the stable, and fire from pistols at the roof."

  Then was heard the uproar of people, more terrible every moment, andthe tramp of horses. Shouts mixed with howls and the clatter of steel.

  "My God, that must be a battle!" thought Zagloba, springing to theopening in the thatch. He looked, and his legs bent under him withdelight.

  In the yard a battle was raging, and soon Zagloba beheld the terribledefeat of Bogun's Cossacks. Attacked on a sudden, struck with fire frompistols placed at their heads and breasts, pushed to the fences, to thecottage and out-houses, cut with swords, thrown down by the rush ofhorses, trampled with their hoofs, the Cossacks perished almost withoutresistance. The ranks of red-uniformed soldiers, cutting furiously andpressing on the fugitives, did not allow them to form, to use theirsabres, to draw breath, or to reach their horses. Only detached groupsdefended themselves. Some, favored by the disturbance, uproar, andsmoke, succeeded in reaching their loosened saddle-girths, and perishedbefore they touched the stirrups with a foot; others, throwing awaylances and sabres, disappeared under the fences, got stuck between theposts, or jumped over the top, shouting and crying with unearthlyvoices. It seemed to the unfortunates that Prince Yeremi himself hadfallen upon them unexpectedly, and was shivering them with his wholepower. They had no time to come to their minds to look around. Theshouts of the victors, the whistle of sabres, and the rattle of shotschased them like a storm. The hot breath of horses was on their necks."Save yourselves, men!" was heard on every side. "Slay! kill!" was theresponse of the assailants.

  At last Zagloba saw little Volodyovski as, standing near the gate atthe head of a number of soldiers, he gave directions with his baton andvoice, and sometimes rushed on his gray horse into the whirl, and thenthe moment he turned or struck, a man fell without uttering a sound.Oh, but he was a master beyond masters, little Volodyovski, and asoldier, blood and bone! He did not lose sight of the battle, butmaking a correction here and there, returned again, looked andcorrected, like the director of an orchestra, who at times playshimself, at times stops, watching carefully over all, so that each manmay fill his part.

  When he saw this, Zagloba stamped on the floor of the loft till thedust rose. He clapped his hands and shouted,--

  "Slay the dog-brothers! Kill them! Flay them! Cut, slash, hew, kill! Onto them, on! Sabre them to a man!"

  Thus he shouted and jumped till his eyes were inflamed from exertion,and he lost vision for a moment; but when he regained his eyesight hesaw a still more beautiful spectacle. There, at the head of a number ofCossacks, was Bogun, rushing away on horseback like lightning, withouta cap, in his shirt and trousers, and after him, at the head of hissoldiers, little Volodyovski. "Slay!" shouted Zagloba; "that's Bogun."But his voice did not reach them. That moment Bogun with his heroes wasover the fence, Volodyovski over the fence. Some remained behind;horses fell under others in the leap. Zagloba looked. Bogun is on theplain, Volodyovski is on the plain. Then the Cossacks scatter in theirflight, and soldiers in their pursuit; individual pursuit begins.Zagloba's breath died within his breast, his eyes were almost burstingthrough his lids; for what does he see? Volodyovski is almost on theneck of Bogun, like a hound on a wild boar. The chief turns his head,raises his sabre; they fight. Zagloba shouts. Still
another moment, andBogun falls with his horse; and Volodyovski, leaving him, hurries afterthe others.

  But Bogun is alive; he rises from the ground and runs to a pile ofrocks surrounded with bushes.

  "Hold him! hold him!" roared Zagloba. "That's Bogun!"

  Then a new band of Cossacks hurry on, who till that moment had beenhiding on the other side of the rocks, but now discovered, seek a newway of escape, pushed by soldiers who are about half a furlong behind.This party comes up to Bogun, bears him away, disappears from sight inthe turns of the ravine, and after it disappear the soldiers.

  In the yard it was silent and empty; for the soldiers of Zagloba,rescued by Volodyovski, chased after the Cossacks and pursued with theothers the scattered enemy.

  Zagloba let down the ladder, slipped from the loft, and coming out ofthe stable into the yard, said, "I am free!" Then he began to lookaround. In the yard lay a number of Zaporojian bodies and some Poles.He walked slowly among them, and examined each carefully. At length heknelt over one of them. Soon he rose with a canteen in his hand. "It isfull!" he muttered; and placing it to his mouth he raised his head."Not bad!" Again he looked round, and again he repeated, but with amuch clearer voice, "I am free!"

  He went to the cottage. On the threshold he came upon the body of theold cooper, whom the Cossacks had killed there. He disappeared inside.When he came out, around his hips, over a coat soiled with manure,glittered Bogun's belt, thickly embroidered with gold; at the belt aknife with a great ruby in the hilt.

  "God has rewarded bravery," he muttered, "for the belt is pretty full.Ah, you wretched robber, I have hope that you will not escape! Thatlittle hop-of-my-thumb--may the bullets strike him!--is a lively piece,just like a wasp. I knew he was a good soldier; but to drive Bogunas he would a white-faced mare, I did not expect that of him. Thatthere should be such strength and courage in such a little body! Bogunmight carry him on a string at his belt. May the bullets strikeVolodyovski!--but better, may God give him luck. He couldn't have knownBogun, or he would have finished him. Phu! how it smells of powderhere, enough to pierce the nose! But if I didn't get out of a scrapethis time such as I have never been in before! Praise to God! Well,well, but so to drive Bogun! I must examine this Volodyovski again, forit must be there is a devil sitting inside of him."

  Zagloba sat on the threshold of the stable in meditation, and waited.Presently there appeared at a distance on the plain soldiers returningfrom the victory, and at their head rode Volodyovski. When he sawZagloba, Volodyovski galloped up, and springing from his horse, came tohim.

  "Do I see you once more?" called he, at a distance.

  "Me, in my own person," said Zagloba. "God reward you for coming withreinforcements in time!"

  "Thanks be to God that I came in time!" said the little knight,pressing the palm of Zagloba with joy.

  "But where did you hear of the straits in which I was?"

  "The peasants of this place gave information."

  "Oh, and I thought they betrayed me."

  "Why should they? They are honest. The newly married barely got offwith their lives, and what happened to the others they know not."

  "If they are not traitors, then they are killed by the Cossacks. Themaster of the house lies near the door. But what of that? Tell me, isBogun alive, did he escape,--he without a cap, in the shirt andtrousers, whom you threw with his horse?"

  "I hit him on the head; but it is too bad that I didn't know him. Buttell me, my good Zagloba, what is the best you have done."

  "What have I done?" repeated Zagloba. "Come, Pan Michael, and see." Hetook him by the hand and led him into the stable. "Look at that!"

  Volodyovski saw nothing for a while, for he had come in from the light;but when his eyes had become used to the darkness he saw bodies lyingmotionless on the dung-heap. "And who cut down these men?" asked he, inastonishment.

  "I!" said Zagloba. "You have asked what I did. Here it is before you!"

  "But," said the young officer, "how did you do it?"

  "I defended myself up there. They stormed me from below and through theroof. I don't know how long it was, for in battle a man doesn't reckontime. It was Bogun, with a strong force and chosen men. He willremember you; he will remember me too. At another time I will tell youhow I fell into captivity, what I passed through, and how I settledBogun; for I had an encounter of tongues with him. But now I am sowearied that I can scarcely stand."

  "Well," repeated Volodyovski, "it is not to be denied you defendedyourself manfully; but I will say this, you are a better swordsman thangeneral."

  "Pan Michael," said the noble, "it is no time for discussion. Betterthank God, who has sent down to us to-day so mighty a victory, thememory of which will not soon vanish from among men."

  Volodyovski looked with astonishment at Zagloba, since it had appearedto him hitherto that he alone had gained that victory which Zaglobaevidently wished to share with him. But he only looked, shook his head,and said, "Let it be so."

  An hour later the two friends, at the head of their united parties,moved on to Yarmolintsi.

  Almost no one was missing from Zagloba's men; for sprung upon in theirsleep, they offered no resistance. Bogun, being sent specially forinformants, had given orders not to kill, but to take prisoners.