Ogniem i mieczem. English

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER XLIX.

  The commissioners sent by the Commonwealth to negotiate with Hmelnitskiforced their way through the greatest difficulties to Novoselki, andthere halted, waiting an answer from the victorious hetman, who wasstopping at that time in Chigirin. They were gloomy and depressed; fordeath had threatened them continually during the whole journey, anddifficulties increased at every step. Day and night they weresurrounded by crowds of the populace, made wild to the last degree byslaughter and war, and who were howling for the death of thecommissioners. From time to time they met bands, commanded by no one,formed of robbers or wild herdsmen, without the least idea of the lawsof nations, but hungry for blood and plunder. The commissioners had, itis true, a hundred horse as attendants, led by Pan Bryshovski; besidesthis, Hmelnitski himself, foreseeing what might meet them, sent ColonelDonyets, with four hundred Cossacks; but that escort might easily proveinadequate, for the throngs of wild men were increasing in number eachhour, and assuming a more threatening attitude. If one of the convoy orthe attendants separated, even for a moment, from the company, heperished without a trace. They were like a handful of travellerssurrounded by a pack of hungry wolves; and thus passed for them wholedays, weeks, till at the stopping-place in Novoselki it appeared to allthat their last hour had come. The convoy of dragoons and the escort ofDonyets, from evening on, fought a regular battle for the life of thecommissioners, who, repeating the prayers for the dying, committedtheir souls to God. The Carmelite Lentovski gave them absolution, oneafter another, while outside the window with the blowing of the windcame terrible shouts, the report of shots, hellish laughter, theclatter of scythes, and shouts of "Death to them!" and demands for thehead of the voevoda Kisel, who was the main object of their rage.

  It was an awful night, and long, for it was a winter night. Kiselrested his head on his hands, and sat motionless for many hours. It wasnot death that he feared; for since he left Gushchi he was soexhausted, tortured, deprived of sleep, that he would have extended hishands with gladness to death; but endless despair was covering hissoul. He as a Russian in blood and bone first took upon himself therole of pacifier in that unexampled war; he came forth everywhere, inthe Senate and in the Diet, as the most ardent partisan ofnegotiations; he supported the policy of the chancellor and theprimate; he condemned most powerfully Yeremi, and he did this in goodfaith, for the sake of the Cossacks and the Commonwealth; and hebelieved, with all his ardent spirit, that negotiations and compromiseswould smooth everything, would pacify, would unite; and just then, inthat moment when he was bringing the baton to Hmelnitski andconcessions to the Cossacks, he doubted all. He saw with his own eyesthe vanity of his efforts; he saw beneath his feet a vacuum and aprecipice.

  "Do they want nothing but blood, do they care for no other freedom thanthe freedom of plunder and burning?" thought the voevoda in despair,and he stifled the groans which were tearing asunder his noble breast.

  "The head of Kisel, the head of Kisel! Death to him!" was the answer ofthe crowds.

  And the voevoda would have offered them as a willing gift that whiteand battered head, were it not for the remnant of his belief that itwas necessary to give them and all the Cossacks something more,--rescuewas immediately necessary for them and the Commonwealth. Let the futureteach them to ask for the something more. And when he thought thus, acertain ray of hope and consolation lighted up for a moment thatdarkness which despair created in his mind, and the unfortunate old mansaid to himself that that mob was not the whole body of Cossacks,--notHmelnitski and his colonels,--with whom negotiations would begin.

  But can these negotiations be lasting while half a million of peasantsstand under arms? Will they not melt at the first breath of spring,like the snows which at that moment covered the steppes? Here againcame to the voevoda the words of Yeremi: "Kindness may be shown to theconquered alone." Here again his thoughts fell into darkness, and theprecipice yawned beneath his feet.

  Meantime midnight was passing. The shouting and shots had decreased insome degree; the whistle of the wind rose in their place, the yard wasfilled with a snowdrift; the wearied crowds had evidently begun todisperse to their houses; hope entered the hearts of the commissioners.

  Voitsekh Miaskovski, a chamberlain from Lvoff, rose from the bench,listened at the window to the drifting of the snow, and said,--

  "It seems to me that with God's favor we shall live till morning."

  "Perhaps too Hmelnitski will send more assistance, for we shall notreach our journey's end with what we have now," said Pan Smyarovski.

  Pan Zelenski, the cup-bearer from Bratslav, smiled bitterly: "Who wouldsay that we are peace commissioners?"

  "I have been an envoy more than once to the Tartars," said the ensignof Novgrodek, "but such a mission as this I have not seen in my life.The Commonwealth endures more contempt in our persons than at Korsunand Pilavtsi. I say, gentlemen, let us return, for there is no use inthinking of negotiations."

  "Let us return," repeated as an echo Pan Bjozovski, the castellan ofKieff; "there can be no peace; let there be war!"

  Kisel raised his lids and fixed his glassy eyes on the castellan."Joltiya Vodi, Korsun, Pilavtsi!" said he, in hollow tones.

  He was silent, and after him all were silent. But Pan Kulchinski, thetreasurer of Kieff, began to repeat the rosary in an audible voice; andPan Kjetovski, master of the chase, seized his head with both hands,and repeated,--

  "What times, what times! God have mercy upon us!"

  The door opened, and Bryshovski, captain of the dragoons of the bishopof Poznania, commander of the convoy, entered the room.

  "Serene voevoda," said he, "some Cossack wants to see thecommissioners."

  "Very well," answered Kisel; "has the crowd dispersed?"

  "The people have gone away; they promised to return to-morrow."

  "Did they press on much?"

  "Terribly, but Donyets' Cossacks killed a number of them. To-morrowthey promise to burn us."

  "Very well, let that Cossack enter."

  After a while the door was opened, and a certain tall, black-beardedfigure appeared at the threshold of the room.

  "Who are you?" asked Kisel.

  "Yan Skshetuski, colonel of hussars of Prince Vishnyevetski, voevoda ofRus."

  The castellan Bjozovski, Pan Kulchinski, and the master of the chasePan Kjetovski sprang from their seats. All of them had served the pastyear under the prince at Makhnovka and Konstantinoff, and knewSkshetuski perfectly. Kjetovski was even related to him.

  "Is it true, is it true? Is this Pan Skshetuski?" repeated they.

  "What are you doing here, and how did you reach us?" asked Kjetovski,taking him by the shoulder.

  "In peasant's disguise, as you see," said Skshetuski.

  "This," cried Bjozovski to Kisel, "is the foremost knight in the armyof the voevoda of Rus; he is famous throughout the whole army."

  "I greet him with thankful heart," said Kisel, "and I see that he mustbe a man of great resolution, since he has forced his way to us." Thento Skshetuski he said: "What do you wish of us?"

  "That you permit me to go with you."

  "You are crawling into the jaws of the dragon, but if such is your wishwe cannot oppose it."

  Skshetuski bowed in silence.

  Kisel looked at him with astonishment. The severe face of the youngknight, with its expression of dignity and suffering, struck him. "Tellme," said he, "what causes drive you to this hell, to which no onecomes of his own accord?"

  "Misfortune, serene voevoda."

  "I have made a needless inquiry," said Kisel. "You must have lost someof your relatives for whom you are looking?"

  "I have."

  "Was it long since?"

  "Last spring."

  "How is that, and you start only now on the search? Why, it is nearly ayear! What were you doing in the mean while?"

  "I was fighting under the voevoda of Rus."

  "Would not such a true man as he give you leave of absence?"


  "I did not wish it myself."

  Kisel looked again at the young knight, and then followed a silence,interrupted by the castellan of Kieff.

  "The misfortunes of this knight are known to all of us who served withthe prince. We shed more than one tear over them, and it is the morepraiseworthy on his part that he preferred to serve his country whilethe war lasted instead of seeking his own good. This is a rare examplein these times of corruption."

  "If it shall appear that my word has any weight with Hmelnitski, thenbelieve me I shall not spare it in your cause," said Kisel.

  Skshetuski bowed a second time.

  "Go now and sleep," said the voevoda, kindly; "for you must be weariedin no small degree, like all of us who have not had a moment's rest."

  "I will take him to my quarters, for he is my relative," saidKjetovski.

  "Let us all go to rest; who knows whether we shall sleep to-morrownight?" said Bjozovski.

  "Maybe an eternal sleep," concluded the voevoda. Then he went to thesmall room, at the door of which his attendant was waiting, andafterward the others separated.

  Kjetovski took Skshetuski to his quarters, which were some housesdistant. His attendant preceded them with a lantern.

  "What a dark night, and it howls louder every moment," said Kjetovski."Oh, Pan Yan, what a day we have passed! I thought the last judgmenthad come. The mob almost put the knife to our throats. Bjozovski's armsgrew weak, and we had already begun prayers for the dying."

  "I was in the crowd," said Skshetuski. "To-morrow evening they expect anew band of robbers to whom they sent word about you. We must leavehere absolutely. But are you going to Kieff?"

  "That depends on the answer of Hmelnitski, to whom Prince Chetvertinskihas gone. Here are my quarters; come in, I pray you, Pan Yan! I haveordered some wine to be heated, and we will strengthen ourselves beforesleep."

  They entered the room, in which a big fire was burning in the chimney.Steaming wine was on the table already. Skshetuski seized a glasseagerly.

  "I've had nothing between my lips since yesterday," said he.

  "You are terribly emaciated. It is clear that sorrow and toil have beengnawing you. But tell me about yourself, for I know of your affair. Youthink then of seeking the princess there among them?"

  "Either her or death," answered the knight.

  "You will more easily find death. How do you know that she may bethere?"

  "Because I have looked for her elsewhere."

  "Where?"

  "Along the Dniester as far as Yagorlik. I went with Armenian merchants,for there were indications that she was secreted there; I wenteverywhere, and now I am going to Kieff, since Bogun was to take herthere."

  Scarcely had the colonel mentioned the name of Bogun when the master ofthe chase seized himself by the head. "As God lives!" he cried, "I havenot told you the most important of all. I heard that Bogun is killed."

  Skshetuski grew pale. "How is that? Who told you?"

  "That noble who saved the princess once, and who showed such bravery atKonstantinoff, told me. I met him when I was going to Zamost. We werepassing on the road. I merely inquired for the news, and he answered methat Bogun was killed. I asked: 'Who killed him?' 'I,' said he. Then weparted."

  The flame which had flashed in the face of Skshetuski was suddenlyquenched. "That noble!" said he; "it is impossible to believe him. No,no, he couldn't be in a condition to kill Bogun."

  "And didn't you see him, Pan Yan, for I remember too that he told me hewas going to you at Zamost?"

  "I did not wait for him at Zamost. He must be now at Zbaraj. I was in ahurry to overtake the commission. I did not return from Kamenyets toZbaraj, and I did not see him. God alone knows whether even that istrue which he told me about her, which he as it were overheard whilecaptive with Bogun,--that Bogun had hidden her beyond Yampol, and thenintended to take her to Kieff for marriage. Perhaps this too is untrue,like everything Zagloba said."

  "Why do you go then to Kieff?"

  Skshetuski was silent; for a moment nothing was heard but the whistlingand howling of the wind.

  "For," said Kjetovski, placing his finger on his forehead, "if Bogun isnot killed, you may fall into his hands with ease."

  "I go to find him," answered Skshetuski, in a hollow voice.

  "Why?"

  "Let God's judgment be passed between us."

  "But he will not fight with you; he will simply bind you, take yourlife, or sell you to the Tartars."

  "I am with the commissioners, in their suite."

  "God grant that we bring our own lives out of this! What is the use oftalking of the suite?"

  "To whom life is heavy, the earth will be light."

  "But have the fear of God before you, Yan! It is not a question here ofdeath, for that avoids no man, but they can sell you to the Turkishgalleys."

  "Do you think that would be worse for me than the present?"

  "I see that you are desperate, and trust not in the mercy of God."

  "You are mistaken! I say that it is evil for me in the world, becauseit is; but long ago I was reconciled to the will of God. I do not beg,I do not groan, I do not curse. I do not beat my head against the wall;I merely desire to accomplish that which pertains to me while strengthand life remain."

  "But grief is devouring you like poison."

  "God gave grief to devour, and he will send the cure when he wishes."

  "I have no answer to such an argument," said Kjetovski. "In God is theonly salvation; in him hope for us and the whole Commonwealth. The kingwent to Chenstokhova. He may obtain something from the Most Holy Lady;otherwise we shall all perish."

  Silence followed, and from outside the window came only the constant"Who's there?" of the dragoons.

  "True, true," said Kjetovski. "We all belong more to the dead than theliving. People have forgotten to smile in this Commonwealth; they onlygroan like that wind in the chimney. I too have believed that happiertimes would come, till I went on this journey with others; but now Isee that that was a barren hope. Ruin, war, hunger, murder, and nothingmore,--nothing more."

  Skshetuski was silent; the blaze of the fire lighted his stern,emaciated face. Finally he raised his head and said with a voice ofdignity,--

  "That is all temporal, which passes away, vanishes, and leaves nothingbehind."

  "You speak like a monk," said Kjetovski.

  Skshetuski made no answer; the wind only groaned each moment move sadlyin the chimney.