The Deluge. Vol. 1

"That is true," said the sword-bearer; "I sent her myself to see who had come."

"I am waiting for your reply, my benefactor," said Kmita.

At that moment the attendant brought in a light and placed it on the table; by the shining of the light it was seen that Billevich was greatly confused.

"This is no small honor for me," said he, "but-I cannot go at once. Be pleased to excuse me to the hetman-you see that I have guests."

"Oh, surely that will not hinder, for these gentlemen will yield to the prince."

"We have our own tongues in our mouths, and can answer for ourselves," said Pan Hudzynski.

"Without waiting for others to make decisions concerning us," added Dovgird.

"You see," continued Kmita, pretending to take in good part the churlish words of the nobles, "I knew that these were polite cavaliers. But to avoid slighting any one, I invite them also in the name of the prince to come to Kyedani."

"Too much favor," said both; "we have something else to do."

Kmita looked on them with a peculiar expression, and then said coldly, as if speaking to some fourth person, "When the prince invites, it is not permitted to refuse."

At that they rose from their chairs.

"But is that constraint?" asked the sword-bearer.

"Pan Billevich, my benefactor," answered Kmita, quickly, "those gentlemen will go whether they wish or not, for thus it has pleased me; but I desire not to use force with you, and I beg most sincerely that you will deign to gratify the prince. I am on service, and have an order to bring you; but as long as I do not lose hope of effecting something with entreaty, I shall not cease to entreat, – and I swear to you that not a hair will fall from your head while there. The prince wishes to talk with you, and wishes you to live in Kyedani during these troubled times, when even peasants collect in crowds and plunder. This is the whole affair! You will be treated with fitting respect in Kyedani, as a guest and a friend; I give my word of honor for that."

"As a noble, I protest," said the sword-bearer, "and the law protects me."

"And sabres!" cried Hudzynski and Dovgird.

Kmita laughed, frowned, and said, "Put away your sabres, gentlemen, or I shall give the order to place you both against the barn and put a bullet into the head of each one of you."

At this they grew timid, and began to look at each other and at Kmita; but the sword-bearer cried, -

"The most outrageous violence against the freedom of nobles, against privileges!"

"There will be no violence if you comply of your own will," said Kmita; "and the proof is in this that I left dragoons in the village, and came here alone to invite you as one neighbor another. Do not refuse, for the times are such that it is difficult to pay attention to refusals. The prince himself will excuse you therefore, and know that you will be received as a neighbor and a friend. Understand, too, that could you be received otherwise, I would a hundred times rather have a bullet in my head than come here for you. Not a hair will fall from any Billevich head while I am alive. Call to mind who I am, remember Heraclius Billevich, remember his will, and consider whether the prince would have selected me did he not intend to deal with you in sincerity."

"Why then does he use force, why have I to go under constraint? How am I to trust him, when all Lithuania talks of the oppression under which honorable citizens are groaning in Kyedani?"

Kmita drew breath; for, from his words and voice he knew that Billevich was beginning to weaken in his resistance.

"Worthy benefactor," said he, almost joyously, "constraint among neighbors often rises from affection. And when you order servants to put the carriage-wheel of a welcome guest in the storehouse, or his provision-chest in the larder, is not that constraint? And when you force him to drink, even when wine is flowing out through his nostrils, is not that constraint? And be assured that even had I to bind you and take you bound to Kyedani among dragoons, that would be for your good. Just think, insurgent soldiers are wandering about and committing lawless deeds, peasants are mustering, Swedish troops are approaching, and do you think to save yourself from accident in the uproar, or that some of these will not come to-day or tomorrow, plunder and burn your property, and attack your person? Is Billeviche a fortress? Can you defend yourself here? What does the prince wish for you? Safety; for Kyedani is the only place where you are not in danger. A detachment of the prince's troops will guard your property here, as the eyes in their heads, from all disorder of soldiers; and if one fork is lost, then take my whole fortune."

Billevich began to walk through the room. "Can I trust your word?"

At that moment Panna Aleksandra entered the room. Kmita approached her quickly, but suddenly remembered the events of Kyedani, and her cold face fixed him to the floor; he bowed therefore from a distance, in silence.

Pan Billevich stood before her. "We have to go to Kyedani," said he.

"And for what reason?" asked she.

"For the hetman invites."

"Very kindly, – as a neighbor," added Kmita.

"Yes, very kindly," said Billevich, with a certain bitterness; "but if we do not go of our own will, this cavalier has the order to surround us with dragoons and take us by force."

"God preserve us from that!" said Kmita.

"Have not I told you, Uncle," asked Panna Aleksandra, "that we ought to flee as far as possible, for they would not leave us here undisturbed? Now my words have come true."

"What's to be done, what's to be done? There is no remedy against force," cried Billevich.

"True," answered the lady: "but we ought not to go to that infamous house of our own will. Let murderers take us, bind us, and bear us. Not we alone shall suffer persecution, not us alone will the vengeance of traitors reach; but let them know that we prefer death to infamy."

Here she turned with an expression of supreme contempt to Kmita: "Bind us, sir officer, or sir executioner, and take us with horses, for in another way we will not go."

The blood rushed to Kmita's face; it seemed for a time that he would burst forth in terrible anger, but he restrained himself.

"Ah, gracious lady," said he, with a voice stifled from excitement, "I have not favor in your eyes, since you wish to make me a murderer, a traitor, and a man of violence. May God judge who is right, – whether I serving the hetman, or you insulting me as a dog. God gave you beauty, but a heart venomous and implacable. You are glad to suffer yourself, that you may inflict still greater pain on another. You exceed the measure, – as I live, you exceed it, – and nothing will come of that."

"The maiden speaks well," cried Billevich, to whom daring came suddenly; "we will not go of our own will. Take us with dragoons."

But Kmita paid no attention whatever to him, so much was he excited, and so deeply touched.

"You are in love with the sufferings of people," continued he to Olenka, "and you proclaim me a traitor without judgment, without considering a reason, without permitting me to say a word in my own defence. Let it be so. But you will go to Kyedani, – of your own will or against your will; it is all one. There my intentions will become evident; there you will know whether you have justly accused me of wrong, there conscience will tell you who of us was whose executioner. I want no other vengeance. God be with you, but I want that vengeance. And I want nothing more of you, for you have bent the bow to the breaking. There is a serpent under your beauty as under a flower."

"We will not go!" repeated Billevich, still more resolutely.

"As true as life we will not!" shouted Hudzynski and Dovgird.

Kmita turned to them; but he was very pale now, for rage was throttling him, and his teeth chattered as in a fever.

"Ei! Try now to resist! My horses are to be heard, – my dragoons are coming. Will some one say again that he will not go?"

In fact the tramp of numerous horses was heard. All saw that there was no help, and Kmita said, -

"Young lady, within the time that a man could repeat the Lord's Prayer twice you must be in the carriage, or your uncle will have a bullet in his head."

And it was evident that the wild frenzy of anger was taking possession more and more of Pan Andrei, for suddenly he shouted till the panes rattled in the windows, "To the road!"

That same instant the door of the front chamber opened quietly, and some strange voice inquired, -

"To what place, Cavalier?"

All became as stone from amazement, and every eye was turned to the door, in which stood some small man in armor, and with a naked sabre in his hand.

Kmita retreated a step, as if he had seen an apparition. "Pan Volodyovski!" cried he.

"At your service!" answered the little man. And he advanced into the middle of the chamber; after him entered in a crowd Mirski, Zagloba, Pan Yan, Pan Stanislav, Stankyevich, Oskyerko and Roh Kovalski.

"Ha!" cried Zagloba; "the Cossack caught a Tartar, and the Tartar holds him by the head!"

Billevich began to speak: "Whoever you are, gentlemen, save a citizen whom in spite of law, birth, and office they wish to arrest and confine. Save, brothers, the freedom of a noble, whoever you may be."

"Fear not!" answered Volodyovski, "the dragoons of this cavalier are already in fetters, and now he needs rescue himself more than you do."

"But a priest most of all!" added Zagloba.

"Sir Knight," said Volodyovski, turning to Kmita, "you have no luck with me; a second time I stand in your way. You did not expect me?"

"I did not! I thought you were in the hands of the prince."

"I have just slipped out of those hands, – this is the road to Podlyasye. But enough! The first time that you bore away this lady I challenged you to sabres, is it not true?"

"True," answered Kmita, reaching involuntarily to his head.

"Now it is another affair. Then you were given to fighting, – a thing usual with nobles, and not bringing the last infamy. To-day you do not deserve that an honest man should challenge you."

"Why is that?" asked Kmita; and raising his proud head, he looked Volodyovski straight in the eyes.

"You are a traitor and a renegade," answered Volodyovski, "for you have cut down, like an executioner, honest soldiers who stood by their country, – for it is through your work that this unhappy land is groaning under a new yoke. Speaking briefly, prepare for death, for as God is in heaven your last hour has come."

"By what right do you judge and execute me?" inquired Kmita.

"Gracious sir," answered Zagloba, seriously, "say your prayers instead of asking us about a right. But if you have anything to say in your defence, say it quickly, for you will not find a living soul to take your part. Once, as I have heard, this lady here present begged you from the hands of Pan Volodyovski; but after what you have done now, she will surely not take your part."

Here the eyes of all turned involuntarily to Panna Aleksandra, whose face at that moment was as if cut from stone; and she stood motionless, with downcast lids, icy-cold, but she did not advance a step or speak a word.

The voice of Kmita broke the silence-"I do not ask that lady for intercession."

Panna Aleksandra was silent.

"This way!" called Volodyovski, turning toward the door.

Heavy steps were heard, followed by the gloomy rattle of spurs; and six soldiers, with Yuzva Butrym in front, entered the room.

"Take him!" commanded Volodyovski, "lead him outside the village and put a bullet in his head."

The heavy hand of Butrym rested on the collar of Kmita, after that two other hands.

"Do not let them drag me like a dog!" said Kmita to Volodyovski. "I will go myself."

Volodyovski nodded to the soldiers, who released him at once, but surrounded him; and he walked out calmly, not speaking to any man, only whispering his prayers.

Panna Aleksandra went out also, through the opposite door, to the adjoining rooms. She passed the first and the second, stretching out her hand in the darkness before her; suddenly her head whirled, the breath failed in her bosom, and she fell, as if dead, on the floor.

Among those who were assembled in the first room a dull silence reigned for some time; at last Billevich broke it. "Is there no mercy for him?" asked he.

"I am sorry for him," answered Zagloba, "for he went manfully to death."

To which Mirski said, "He shot a number of officers out of my squadron, besides those whom he slew in attack."

"And from mine too," added Stankyevich; "and he cut up almost all of Nyevyarovski's men."

"He must have had orders from Radzivill," said Zagloba.

"Gentlemen," said Billevich, "you bring the vengeance of Radzivill on my head."

"You must flee. We are going to Podlyasye, for there the squadrons have risen against traitors; go with us. There is no other help. You can take refuge in Byalovyej, where a relative of Pan Skshetuski is the king's hunter. There no one will find you."

"But my property will be lost."

"The Commonwealth will restore it to you."

"Pan Michael," said Zagloba, suddenly, "I will gallop off and see if there are not some orders of the hetman on that unfortunate man. You remember what I found on Roh Kovalski."

"Mount a horse. There is time yet; later the papers will be bloody. I ordered them to take him beyond the village, so that the lady might not be alarmed at the rattle of muskets, for women are sensitive and given to fright."

Zagloba went out, and after a while the tramp of the horse on which he rode away was heard. Volodyovski turned to the host.

"What is the lady doing?"

"Beyond doubt she is praying for that soul which must go before God."

"May the Lord give him eternal rest!" said Pan Yan. "Were it not for his willing service with Radzivill, I should be the first to speak in his favor; but if he did not wish to stand by his country, he might at least not have sold his soul to Radzivill."

"That is true!" added Volodyovski.

"He is guilty and deserves what has come upon him," said Pan Stanislav; "but I would that Radzivill were in his place, or Opalinski-oh, Opalinski!"

"Of how far he is guilty, you have best proof here," put in Oskyerko; "this lady, who was his betrothed, did not find a word in his favor. I saw clearly that she was in torment, but she was silent; for how could she take the part of a traitor."

"She loved him once sincerely, I know that," said Billevich. "Permit me, gentlemen, to go and see what has befallen her, as this is a grievous trial for a woman."

"Make ready for the road!" cried the little knight, "for we shall merely give rest to the horses. We move farther. Kyedani is too near this place, and Radzivill must have returned already."

"Very well!" said the noble, and he left the room.

After a while his piercing cry was heard. The knights sprang toward the sound, not knowing what had happened; the servants also ran in with the lights, and they saw Billevich raising Olenka, whom he had found lying senseless on the floor.

Volodyovski sprang to help him, and together they placed her on the sofa. She gave no sign of life. They began to rub her. The old housekeeper ran in with cordials, and at last the young lady opened her eyes.

"Nothing is the matter," said the old housekeeper; "go ye to that room, we will take care of her."

Billevich conducted his guests. "Would that this had not happened!" said the anxious host. "Could you not take that unfortunate with you, and put him out of the way somewhere on the road, and not on my place? How can I travel now, how flee, when the young woman is barely alive, on the brink of serious illness?"

"The illness is all over now," answered Volodyovski. "We will put the lady in a carriage; you must both flee, for the vengeance of Radzivill spares no man."

"The lady may recover quickly," said Pan Yan.

"A comfortable carriage is ready, with horses attached, for Kmita brought it with him," said Volodyovski. "Go and tell the lady how things are, and that it is impossible to delay flight. Let her collect her strength. We must go, for before to-morrow morning Radzivill's troops may be here."

"True," answered Billevich; "I go!"

He went, and after a while returned with his niece, who had not only collected her strength, but was already dressed for the road. She had a high color on her face, and her eyes were gleaming feverishly.

"Let us go, let us go!" repeated she, entering the room.

Volodyovski went out on the porch for a moment to send men for the carriage; then he returned, and all began to make ready for the road.

Before a quarter of an hour had passed, the roll of wheels was heard outside the windows, and the stamping of horses' hoofs on the pavement with which the space before the entrance was covered.

"Let us go!" said Olenka.

"To the road!" cried the officers.

That moment the door was thrown open, and Zagloba burst into the room like a bomb.

"I have stopped the execution!" cried he.

Olenka from being ruddy became in one moment as white as chalk; she seemed ready to faint again; but no one paid attention to her, for all eyes were turned on Zagloba, who was panting like a whale, trying to catch breath.

"Have you stopped the execution?" inquired Volodyovski. "Why was that?"

"Why? – Let me catch breath. This is why, – without Kmita, without that honorable cavalier, we should all of us be hanging on trees at Kyedani. Uf! we wanted to kill our benefactor, gentlemen! Uf!"

"How can that be?" cried all, at once.

"How can it be? Read this letter; in it is the answer."

Here Zagloba gave a letter to Volodyovski. He began to read, stopping every moment and looking at his comrades; for it was in fact the letter in which Radzivill reproached Kmita bitterly because by his stubborn persistence he had freed the colonels and Zagloba from death at Kyedani.

"Well, what do you think?" repeated Zagloba, at each interval.

The letter ended, as we know, with the commission for Kmita to bring Billevich and his niece to Kyedani. Pan Andrei had the letter with him, apparently to show it to the sword-bearer in case of necessity, and it had not come to that.

Above all there remained no shadow of doubt that but for Kmita the two Skshetuskis, Volodyovski, and Zagloba would have been killed without mercy in Kyedani, immediately after the famous treaty with Pontus de la Gardie.

"Worthy gentlemen," said Zagloba, "if you wish now to shoot him, as God is dear to me, I will leave your company and know you no longer."

"There is nothing more to be said here!" replied Volodyovski.

"Ah!" said Skshetuski, seizing his head with both hands, "what a happiness that father read that letter at once, instead of bringing it to us!"

"They must have fed you with starlings from childhood!" cried Mirski.

"Ha! what do you say to that?" asked Zagloba. "Every one else would have put a bullet in his head. But the moment they brought me the paper which they found on him, something touched me, because I have by nature a universal curiosity. Two men were going ahead of me with lanterns, and they were already in the field. Said I to them, 'Give me light here; let me know what is in this!' I began to read. I tell you, gentlemen, there was darkness before me as if some man had thumped my bald head with his fist. 'In God's name!' said I, 'why did you not show this letter?' And he answered, 'Because it did not suit me!' Such a haughty fellow, even at the point of death! But didn't I seize him, embrace him? 'Benefactor,' cried I, 'without you the crows would have eaten us already!' I gave orders to bring him back and lead him here; and I almost drove the breath out of the horse to tell you what had happened as quickly as possible. Uf!"

"That is a wonderful man, in whom it is clear as much good as evil resides," said Pan Stanislav. "If such would not-"

But before he had finished, the door opened and the soldiers came in with Kmita.

"You are free," said Volodyovski, at once; "and while we are alive none of us will attack you. What a desperate man you are, not to show us that letter immediately! We would not have disturbed you."

Here he turned to the soldiers: "Withdraw, and every man to horse!"

The soldiers withdrew, and Pan Andrei remained alone in the middle of the room. He had a calm face; but it was gloomy, and he looked at the officers standing before him, not without pride.

"You are free!" repeated Volodyovski; "go whithersoever you please, even to Radzivill, though it is painful to see a man of honorable blood aiding a traitor to his country."

"Reflect well," answered Kmita, "for I say beforehand that I shall go nowhere else but to Radzivill."

"Join us; let the thunderbolt crush that tyrant of Kyedani!" cried Zagloba. "You will be to us a friend and dear comrade; the country, your mother, will forgive your offences against her."

"It is no use," said Kmita, with energy. "God will decide who serves the country better, – you who begin civil war on your own responsibility, or I, serving a lord who alone can save this ill-fated Commonwealth. Go your own way, I will go mine. It is not time to convert you, and the attempt is vain; but I tell you from the depth of my soul that you are ruining the country, – you who stand in the way of its salvation. I do not call you traitors, for I know that your intentions are honorable; but this is the position, – the country is perishing, Radzivill stretches a hand to it, and you thrust swords into that hand, and in blindness make traitors of him and all those who stand by him."

"As God is true!" said Zagloba, "if I had not seen how manfully you went to meet death, I should think that terror had disturbed your mind. To whom have you given oath, – to Radzivill or Yan Kazimir, to Sweden or the Commonwealth? You have lost your wits!"

"I knew that it would be vain to attempt to convert you. Farewell!"

"But wait," said Zagloba; "for here is a question of importance. Tell me, did Radzivill promise that he would spare us when you interceded for us in Kyedani?"

"He did," said Kmita. "You were to remain during the war in Birji."

"Know now your Radzivill, who betrays not only the country, not only the king, but his own servants." When he had said this, Zagloba gave the hetman's letter to Kmita. He took it, and began to run over it with his eyes; and as he read, the blood came to his face, and a blush of shame for his own leader covered his forehead more and more. All at once he crushed the letter in his hand, and threw it on the floor.

"Farewell!" said he. "Better I had perished at your hands!" and he went out of the room.

"Gentlemen," said Pan Yan, after a moment's silence, "an affair with that man is difficult, for he believes in his Radzivill as a Turk in Mohammed. I thought myself, as you do, that he was serving him for profit or ambition, but that is not the case. He is not a bad man, only an erring one."

"If he has had faith in his Mohammed hitherto, I have undermined that faith infernally," said Zagloba. "Did you see how he threw down the letter as soon as he had read it? There will be no small work between them, for that cavalier is ready to spring at the eyes, not only of Radzivill, but the devil. As God is dear to me, if a man had given me a herd of Turkish horses I should not be so well pleased as I am at having saved him from death."

"It is true he owes his life to you," said Billevich; "no one will deny that."

"God be with him!" said Volodyovski; "let us take counsel what to do."

"But what? Mount and take the road; the horses have rested a little," answered Zagloba.

"True, we should go as quickly as possible! Are you going with us?" asked Mirski of the sword-bearer.

"I cannot remain here in peace, I must go. But if you wish to take the road at once, gentlemen, I say sincerely that it is not convenient to tear away now with you. Since that man has left here alive, they will not burn me up immediately, neither will they kill any one; and before such a journey it is necessary to provide one's self with this thing and that. God knows when I shall return. It is necessary to make one arrangement and another, – to secrete the most valuable articles, send my cattle to the neighbors, pack trunks. I have also a little ready money which I would take with me. I shall be ready to-morrow at daybreak; but to go now, in seize-grab fashion, I cannot."

"On our part we cannot wait, for the sword is hanging over our heads," said Volodyovski. "And where do you wish to take refuge?"

"In the wilderness, as you advised. At least, I shall leave the maiden there; for I am not yet old, and my poor sabre may be of use to the country and the king."

"Farewell! God grant us to meet in better times!"

"God reward you, gentlemen, for coming to rescue me. Doubtless we shall see one another in the field."

"Good health!"

"Happy journey!"

They began to take farewell of one another, and then each came to bow down before Panna Billevich.

"You will see my wife and little boys in the wilderness: embrace them for me, and bloom in good health," said Pan Yan.

"Remember at times the soldier, who, though he had no success in your eyes, is always glad to bend the skies for you."

After them others approached, and last Zagloba.

"Receive, charming flower, farewell from an old man too. Embrace Pani Skshetuski and my little stumps. They are boys in a hundred!"

Instead of an answer, Olenka seized his hand, and pressed it in silence to her lips.