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HU ixyH P

KB J?7o

i
iifa

In

•^ Ji.»M&, •im^mt ha.

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ.

ALTEMUS' COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED EDITION

WITH FIRE AND SWORD

A TALE OF THE PAST

BY

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ

TRANSLATED FROM THE POLISH
FIFTH AND RBVISHD EDITION

BY

DR. SAMUEL A. BINION

AuTBOft OF " Amcxbrt Boypt," Btc, awd Translator of " Quo Vadis,"
"Pan Michabl," Btc, Etc.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
M. De LIPMAN

PHILADELPHIA

HENRY ALTEMUS

/<£' 3 7 7c^

BDLLEBK

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

IN UNIFORM STYLE.
lUustratmL

Quo Vadis ; A Tale op the
Time of Nero.

With Fire and Sword ;

A TALE OF the PAST.

Pan Michael;
A historical tale.

HENRY ALTEMUS, Publisher,
Philadelphia.

Copyright 1898 by Henry Altemiia.

INTRODUanON.

AboTe the Marienkirohe, in Cracow, rises two towers of unequal
haght, and crowned with strange cupolas like Oriental turbans.

Before the cathedral opens the old-world market place with its
arches. If you stand in the market-place in the morning, or when
the evening sunlight reddens the citadel of the Wawel, strange
muBic suddenly breaks out OYerhead, sad, sihery ; the clarion- call of a
by-gone age. It re echoes away up in the blue, coming from one
sees not where, and flows in waves of ringing, pathetic melody over
the old capital of the Poles. Then the music suddenly ceases, and
tbere is a stillness, a stillness even more mysterious than the sudden
outburst of sound.

That music is a voice from the past. When the hosts were
gathered against fair Cracow a minstrel in the highest tower of the
cathedral cheered the hearts of the besieged with the martial strains
of his clarion, that resounded with warlike challenge over the city,
while the battle raged around the walls. A bullet from the enemy
cut short his signal and his life ; and ever after, morning and even-
ing, the same melody rings out over the city for a memorial, but now
in piercing sadness, like a dirge, and stops suddenly at the point where
the minstrel fell, breaking off in the middle of a bar.

The life of the Polish nation might well take that broken music
as its symbol : it, too, ended in the middle of a bar, cut off from among
the nations. High up in the citadel, on its rocky eminence above
the town are the crowns and robes and scepters of the kings of
Poland, and all the royal finery of jewels and gold. The trappings
of kings, but no kings to wear them. For the kings of Poland lie
there, in their oold shrines of stone, in the vaults of the fortress;

INTBODUCnON.

and every morning and evening they hear the clarion dirge of the
nation suddenly broken off. And the rest is silence.

In his great epio of Poland, Sienkiewioz has shown us the nation
at the summit of its power — a kingdom — a commonwealth as strong
as any in Europe, which had beaten the Tartars and Swedes, and
before which even the grand dukes of Moscow had more than once
retreated vanquished. Poland stretched from the Black Sea to the
Baltic, across all Europe, and from the Dnieper to the Oder. The
Polish arms had a thousand splendid achievements on their roll of
honor, and were yet destined for signal victories over the Turks,
which should leave all Christendom their debtors.

But the novelist also shows the seeds of the nation's ruin, ready
to grow rank and luxuriant, even at the noontide of glory.

The Slavonic world was divided into three parts : the despotism of
Moscow, beginning a new life under the young dynasty of the
B4)manoffii; the kingdom of. Poland, really an association of powerful
oligarchs, in which the mass of the people had no voice nor freedom ;
and the wild hordes of the Cossacks, where every man was his own
lord among the great rivers that flow into the Black Sea.

To-day the despotism stands alone. It has overshadowed the free
hordes of the Cossacks ; it has overshadowed the kings of Poland,
and driven back the Tartars to the uttermost verge of the ocean.
It has, indeed, overshadowed much more — a sixth part of the whole
world.

Sienkiewicz has shown the elements of disintegration at work
among the Cossack hordes. He has also shown clearly the causes
that ruined Poland : the kinglets rising up around the elective king
with almost royal might, and with ambition too great even for kings.
Then round the magnates Pototskis, Kalinovskis, Yishnyovyetskis,
were the lesser nobles, withstanding them in their turn, as the mag-
nates withstood the king. Then, beneath all, the people, dumb ser&,
down trodden, with no voice in their destinies, and not even the name
of freedom. A kingdom divided against itself and fated to fidl.
The vaulting ambition of the nobles caused their ruin and the ruin
of their country. Foes fix>m without had been powerless in face of
a united land.

0HARLS8 JOHNSTON.

BOOK I.

•• /

• * 1 • »

■» s

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

CHAPTER I.

It was a remarkable year, the year 1647, in which various
portents in the heavens and on the earth foretold calamities
and unusual occurrences.

The chroniclers of those days mention the fact that in the
spring, the locusts swarmed in unprecedented numbers from
the Wild Lands, and destroyed crops and grass; and this of
itself was a prediction of a Tartar incursion. In the summer
a total eclipse of the sun occurred, and shortly aften^'ard a
comet appeared in the sky. In Warsaw, there was even a
grave-mound in the clouds above the city; also a cross of fire.
Thereupon was proclaimed a fast, with giving of alms, for
some people affirmed that a plague was to fall upon the land,
and destroy the human race. At length the winter came, so
mild a winter that the eldest people had never witnessed one
hke it. In the southern districts the waters were not held
by icy fetters, but, swelled by the melting snow every morn-
ing, they overflowed their basins and flooded the banks.
There were copious rainfalls and the steppes became like a
vast slough. In the south, the sun was so warm that, wonder
of wonders, in the province of Bratslav and in the Wild
Lands, a green fleece covered the steppes and expanse in mid-
December. From the bee-hives, there came a buzzing and
humming, and the cattle were lowing in their enclosures.
As the order of nature appeared to be change<l, every one
in Russia, in the expectation of unwonted occurrences, turned
their anxious minds and eyes towards the Wild Lands, from
which direction the danger seemed most threatening.

Meantime nothing unusual occurred on the steppes, and
no battles nor encounters took place, save those that are
always occurring there; of which eagles, hawks, crows, and
wild beasts are the only witnesses.

5

6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

For such was the nature of these lands. The last vestiges
of civilized life disappeared as one went towards the south.
Not far from Chigrin in the direction of the Dnieper, and
from Uman in the direction of the Dniester, and then a great
distance as far as the coast lakes and the sea — steppe fol-
lowed steppe between the tw^o rivers, as if framed by them.
At the bend of the Dnieper, in the Nij^ beyond the rapids,
Cossack life swarmed, but upon the steppes themselves, no
one lived, and only on their borders, were here and there
patches which looked like islands in the midst of the sea. The
country belonged in name to the Commonwealth, but it was
a waste, and the Commonwealth permitted the Tartars to
use it as a pasture-land. As the Cossacks, however, frequently
defended it, the pasture ground was often turned into a bat-
tle-field.

How many battles were fought here, how many men were
killed, has never been recorded. Eagles, hawks, and crows,
alone witnessed these scenes, and whoever heard after the
cawing and flapping of wings, and saw the dense flocks of
birds, as they circled about one particular spot, knew that
corpses and bones lay there unburied. In the long grass man
hunted man, like wolves or antelopes. All might hunt who
wished. The outlaw sought refuge in the wild steppes, the
shepherd completely anned, guarded his flocks, the idught-
errant sought adventures, rol3bers sought plunder, the Cos-
sack sought the Tartar, and the Tartar sought the Cossack.
It happened sometimes that whole bands defended their
flocks against an army of assailants. The steppe was at the
same time both desert and peopled, quiet and threatening,
peaceful, yet full of danger, wild with the \vildemess of
desert lands, and also savages.

Occasionally a great war took place. Then the Tartar
chambuls,* the Cossack regiments, and the Polish of Wal-
lachian banners would sweep over the plains like the waves
of the sea. At night, the howling of wolves responded to
the neighing of horses. The beating of kettle-drums and
the blasts of trumpets resounded as far as the Lake of Ovid,
and on to the sea; and along the dark Kutschman border a
crowd surged like a great river. The frontiers of the Com-
monwealth from Kamenets to the Dnieper were guarded by

> The n&me for Cossack lowlands,
s Cbambttl— a division of Tartar horseman.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. y

military posts and watch towers, and one could easily know
when the road had begun to swarm with people by the count-
less flocks of birds which, terrified at the Chambuls, flew to-
wards the North. But when the Tartar came from the Black
Forest, and forded the Dnieper from Wallachia, the birds fol-
lowed him across the steppes into the southern province.

But this particular winter, the birds did not migrate noisily
to the Commonwealth, as was their wont. It was quieter than
usual on the steppes. At the moment when our story opens,
the sun was just setting, and its red glow illumined the whole
desert region. On the northern border of the steppes along
the River Omelnik, to its mouth, the sharpest eye could not
have delected a living being, nor the slightest motion in the
dark, dry, withered grass of the plains. The sun's bright disk
was half below the horizon; the sky by degrees became darker
and darker, and gloom gradually settled upon the steppes. On
the left bank of the river, upon a tiny elevation, that looked
more like a grave-mound than a hill, were the ruins of a for-
tified military post that had been built by Teodoryk Buchat-
ski, and afterwards destroyed by invaders. The ruins cast a
long shadow. Not far from them gleamed the waters of the
River Omelnik, that from its far distant source wound along
to empty its waters into the Dnieper. But the last gleam of
light was gradually dying out from the earth and sky. From
above, the cry of the cranes alone was to be heard as they
winged their way to the sea; no other sound broke the still-
ness.

Nighi; shrouded the desert, and with its shadows came the
hour when spectral visitors haunt the earth. At such times,
the knights on guard at the post related stories to one an-
other of how at night in the Wild Lands the shades of those
who had been killed, and who had been snatched away in the
midst of their sins, would rise from their death sleep and
dance in circles without hindrance from cross or church. And
when at the hour of midnight the candles began to burn
down, prayers were offered up for the dead. It was said also
that the ghosts of men on horseback scampered across the
waste to overtake wayfarers, wailing and pleading with them
for a sign of the Holy Cross; and that among these were also
vampires who hunted people with bowlings. The practiced
ear could distinguish from afar the howling of the vampire
from that of a wolf. Sometimes whole legions of ghosts ap-
peared and came so near to the post that the sentries gave

8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

the alarm. This was the portent of a great war. The ap-
pearance of single ghosts boded no good, but could not always
be taken as an ill omen, for frequently a living person would
appear before the traveller and disappear like a shadow, con-
sequently it was easy to mistake him for a ghost.

Night fell quickly over the region of the Omelnik, and it
was not surprising that a ghost or a man should appear in
the vicinity of the little military post. The moon, rising from
the other side of the Dnieper, whitened the desert, the
thistles, and the far steppes with its light. At a distance on
the steppes, other nocturnal beings appeared. Little clouds
darkened the moon from time to time, and forms gleamed
out occasionally in the darkness and then were veiled by the
shadows. At times they disappeared entirely and seemed to
vanish in the darkness. Slowly pushing onwards towards the
elevation on which the first sentry was stationed, they crept
quietly, carefully, and slowly, halting every now and then.

There was something in their movements that inspired awe,
as indeed did the whole steppe, which was apparently so
peaceful. From time to time a wind blew from the Dnieper
with a wailing sound as it rustled the withered thistles which
swayed back and forth and trembled as if in fear. At last
the figures disappeared in the shadow of the ruins. In the
pale light of the night only a horseman was seen keeping
guard on the little hill.

At last the rustling of the wind amid the thistles roused
his attention. Moving towards the edge of the mound, he
peered attentively across the steppe. At this moment the
wind became still, the rustling ceased, and there was perfect
silence.

Suddenly a shrill whistle was heard. Discordant voices
began to shout in confusion: "Allah! Allah! Jesus Christ!
Plelp! Murder!" The report of fire-arms was heard; red
flashes leaped in the darkness; the tramp of horses' hoofs was
mingled with the clash of steel. Fresh horsemen appeared as
if they had spining up from the ground of the steppe. It
seemed as if a storm had suddenly swept over the still and
evil-boding wilderness. Then the groans of men were heard
amid the terrible uproar; at length all was quiet; the fight
was over.

A scene had just been enacted that was a matter of com-
mon occurrence in the Wild Lands.

The horsonien fjathered on the height; one of them dis-
mounted, and looked closely at some object on the gi'ound.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. g

Then was heard through the darkness a powerful voice of
command:

"Hallo, there! Strike a light!'*

Presently sparks flew, and a flame sprang up from the dry
reeds and chips which travelers across the Wild Jjands always
carry with them. Then a man stuck his pole with the fire-
pot in the earth, and the bright light made clear the group
of men beneath, who were bending over a form that lay mo-
tionless on the ground.

The men were soldiers, dressed in the red, court-uniform,
with wolf-skin shakos on their heads. One of them, mounted
on a powerful horse, appeared to be the leader. Dismounting
and approaching the prostrate figure, he asked:

"What do you think Sergeant, does he live or not?"

*^Ie lives. Commander,^ but the death-rattle is in his
throat; a noose strangled him."

"What is he?"

"Xot a Tartar, but a man of rank."

"God be praised!"

Saying this, the commander looked more closely at the
dying man.

"He looks like a hetman," he said.

"The horse he was riding is of the best Tartar breed; there^s
not a finer one in the Khan's stables," replied the sergeant.
"Look! There they are holding it."

The commander looked up and his face brightened. Close
by where he stood, two privates held a remarkably fine horse,
which with ears pricked up and nostrils distended, stretched
his neck forward and gazed at his master with terrified eyes.

"But the horse. Commander, will be ours?" asked the ser-
geant.

"Why, you dog-worshipper, would you take a Christian's
horse from him on the steppes?"

"But this is booty; ''

Further conversation was here interrupted by a loud rattle
from the throat of the strangling man.

"Pour gorzalka down his throat!" said the Commander.
'TJnbuckle his belt!"

*T)o we camp here to-night?"

**Ye3. Unsaddle the horses, and light the camp fire."

The soldiers set briskly to woirk. Some of them began to
rob the prostrate man to bring him back to life; others gath-

1 N&miestDik.

lO "WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

ered reeds for the fire; others spread camel and bear skins
on the ground to serve as couches.

The Commander troubled himself no further about the
strangling man, but loosened his belt and stretched himself
out upon a cloak near the fire. He was a young man, slender,
sunburnt, very handsome, with delicate features, and a large
aquiline nose. His eyes had a somewhat overbearing and
defiant expression, but his face gave the impression of hon-
esty. A rather heavy moustache, and a beard whose luxuriant
growth proved that it had long been neglected, added im-
portance to his years.

In the meantime two servants were busy preparing supper.
They laid an already-prepared quarter of mutton on the fire,
then they took from the horses several bustards that had been
shot during the day, some partridges, and an antelope. A ser-
vant took charge of the last and began to skin it. The wood
fire blazed up and threw a great circle of light across the
plain. The choked man began slowly to come back to life.

After a time he opened his bloodshot eyes and gazed about
among the group of strangers, examining their features; then
he attempted to rise. The soldier who had previously con-
versed with the Commander placed his hands under the man's
arms and lifted him up; another put in his hand a halbert
upon which the stranger supported himself with all his
strength. At last, painfully and with a choking voice, he
managed to utter his first word.

"Water!"

They gave him gorzalka, and he drank it greedily; it evi-
dently did him good; for when they took the flask away from
him, he asked in a perfectly clear voice:

"In whose hands am I?"

The Commander got up and approached him.

"In the hands of those who rescued you."

"So you caught me with a lasso?"

"What do you mean? We wield the sword, not the lasso.
You wrong good soldiers with your suspicion. You were en-
trapped by some scoundrels who pretended to be Tartars, and
if you wish to see them, there they lie, slaughtered like
sheep."

Then the Commander pointed towards the dark mass of
bodies that lay at the foot of the hill.

Then the unknown said:

"Now permit me to rest."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. II

They placed a saddle-blanket of soft felt under him, and
he lay upon it still and quiet.

He was a man in the prime of life, of medium stature,
broad-shouldered, of almost gigantic frame, and expressive
features. His head was massive, his complexion was swarthy
and very sunburnt, his eyes were Mack and slightly oblique
like those of a Tartar, and his twisted moustache broadened
at the ends into thick tufts. His strong face betokened pride
and daring; it was both attractive and repulsive, possessing
the dignity of a Hetman with Tartar cunning, kindness, and
ferocity combined.

After he had rested for a time on the saddle-blanket, he
rose, and to the great surprise of all, instead of expressing
his thanks, he walked over and looked at the corpses.

"The coarse brute," growled the Commander.

The stranger looked closely into each face, and nodded his
head, as a man might who had guessed all; then he turned
slowly back towards the commander, feeling his sides as if
looking for his belt into which he evidently wished to thrust
his hands.

This air of importance in a man who had but lately been
saved from the halter, disj/leased the young Commander, who
remarked, not without bitterness:

"One would ask whether you were looking for friends
among those rascals, or whether, perhaps, you wish to say a
prayer for their souls."

"They are unknown to me," he answered, with dignity.

"You are both right and wrong. You are right in think-
ing I was looking for fAends, and you are wrong in thinking
them rascals, for they are the servants of a certain nobleman,
who is my neighbor."

"So you and your neighbor evidently do not drink at the
same spring."

A peculiar smile flitted across the thin lips of the stranger.

**You are mistaken again," he muttered through his teeth.
Then shortly he spoke out:

"But pardon me, sir, for not having sooner expressed my
thanks for the assistance and kind care that has saved me
from a sudden death. Your valor has oflFset my carelessness,
for I had become separated from my people; but my grati-
tude is in proportion to your readiness in coming to my as-
sistance."

Then he extended his hand. But the haughty young Com-

12 WITH FIRE AND 8W0BD.

mander did not rise or respond. He said: "I should first like
to know if I am talking to a nobleman, for even if I did doubt
the fact, it does not become me to accept thanks from one
whose name I do not know/'

*T[ see that you have the true knightly sense of honor, and
you are right. I should have prefaced my discourse and my
thanks with my name. I am Zenobious Abdank, and quarter
the arms of Abdank with a cross. 1 am a nobleman of the
province of Kiev; a landed proprietor, and a colonel of the
Cossack regiment of Prince Dominik Zaslavski.*'

"And I am Yan Skshetuski, lieutenant of the cuirassiers
of his Excellency Prince Yeremy Vishnyovyetski."

*Tou serve under a celebrated warrior. Accept my thanks,
and hand.^^

The Commander hesitated no longer. The heavy cavalry
was accustomed, it is true, to look down on the rest of the
army, but Skshetuski was on the steppes in the Wild liands
where less attention was j^aid to the difference in rank. Be-
sides, he was dealing with a colonel, of which fact he was soon
convinced by the evidence of his own eyes; for, when his men
brought back Pan Abdank's belt and sabre, which they had
taken from him while they were endeavoring to restore him to
consciousness, they handed him at the same time a short
truncheon with a hilt of bone and a head made of horn, such
as Cossack colonels always carry. Beside this. Colonel Ab-
dank's clothing was of fine material, and his conversation gave
evidence of a keen intelligence and a knowledge of the world.

Commander Skshetuski now invited Abdank to join the
company. .

The odor of the roast meat was wafted across from the
wood fire and tickled the palates and the nostrils of the hun-
gry men. An attendant took the roast from the fire, and put-
ting it in an earthen dish served them. They began to eat,
and when a huge sack made of goat-skin and filled with Mol-
davian wine was added to the feast, the conversation waxed
lively.

'^ere^s to our safe return home," said Skshetuski.

"So you are on your way home. From whence, if I may
ask?" said Abdank.

"A long way from here; from the Crimea."

"And what were you doing there? Were you a hostage?**

^Ifo, indeed. Colonel, I was with the Khan himself."

Abdank's curiosity was aroused.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 13

"Oh, indeed, you were in fine company? On what mission
did you go to see the Khan?^'

"I went with a letter from his Excellency Prince Yeremy/'

"He sent you then!"

"What did his Excellency, the Prince, write about to the
Khan?''

The Commander looked his companion sharply in the face.

"Colonel," he said, "you looked closely into the faces of the
knaves who caught you with a lasso; that was your affair; but
what the Prince wrote to the Khan is neither your business
nor mine, but their own/'

"At first," answered Abdank craftily, "I wondered that the
Prince should chose so young a man as an ambassador to
the Khan, but I am no longer astonished, for I see that al-
though young in years, you are old in experience and judg-
ment."

The Commander swallowed the flattering words and curi-
ing the ends of his moustache said: "And now tell me what
you are doing on the Omelnik, and how you happened to
be here alone?"

"I am not alone; I left my men behind. I am on my way
to Kudak, to see Pan Grodzitski, who is in command there,
and to whom Hetman W. gave me letters."

"And why do you not go by water?"

"Because I am obeying orders which I do not see fit to
disobey?"

"It is strange that the Hetman should have given such
an order, and that you should have fallen into such straits?
Had you gone by water such a thing could not have hap-
pened."

"My good sir, the steppes are quiet just now; I have known
them heretofore, and what has happened to me is the result
of the wickedness and envy of men."

"And whom do you suspect."

"It is a long story. An evil neighbor. Commander, has
ruined my property, has driven me from my land, has killed
my son, and as you have seen, has attempted my life."

"And you carry no sabre at your side?"

Over Abdank's powerful face there passed a look of hatred;
his eyes glared, and he said slowly and emphatically:

"Surely I carry one, and with God's help I will seek no
other assistance against my enemies."

The Commander was about to speak, but suddenly a sound

,4 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

of horses' hoofs was heard on the plain, or rather, the hur-
ried pattering of hoofs upon the slippery earth. Then there
appeared one of the Commander's men who was keeping
watch, with word that a company of horse was approaching.

**These must be my men,'' said Abdank, "whom I left
behind beyond Tasmina; not suspecting treachery, I had
promised to wait them here."

In a little while a company of horsemen drew up in a
semi-circle around the hill. By the light of the fire, the
hprses' heads could be distinguished, with, dilated nostrils,
snori^ing from fatigue; and above them the riders, who bend-
ing over, screened their faces with their hands from the
fire, and peered eagerly towards the light.

"Hallo men, who are yau," shouted Abdank.

"Servants of God," replied voices from the darkness.

"Yes, these are my Cossacks," exclaimed Abdank turning
to the Commander. "Come here! Come here!"

Some of the men sprang from their horses and approached
the fire.

"We have made haste, indeed we have, little father. What
happened to you?"

"I was detained. Khvedka, the traitor, was informed of
my coming and waited here with others. He must have
ridden at break-neck speed. They tried to strangle me with
a noose."

"Merciful God! And who is that Pole at your side?"

Then they looked threateningly at Skshetuski, and his
companions.

"These are good friends," said Abdank. "God be thanked,
I am safe and well. We must proceed on our way at once."

"God be praised! We are ready!"

The late arrivals began to warm their hands over the
fire, for the night though fine was cold. There were about
forty robust and well armed men. They did not look like
Cossack regulars, which surprised Skshetuski, especially as
there was such a large company of them. All this looked
very suspicious to the Comander. If Hetman W. had
really sent Abdank to Kudak, he would have given him a
company of regulars; and again, why should he have ordered
him to make the journey from Chigrin across the steppes
instead of by water? The fact that he would have to ford
all the rivers that flow through the plains to empty into the
Dnieper, would only delay him, and it looked rather as if
Abdank were trying to avoid going to Kudak.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 15

Moreover the young Commander was astonished at Ab-
dank's personality. He remarked at once that the Cossacks,
who were usually on familiar terms with their Colonels,
treated him with unusual respect, as if he were a real hetman.
He must therefore, be a knight of great importance, w'hich
appeared all the more strange to Skshetuski, as he knew the
Ukraine on both sides of the Dnieper, and had never heard
of an Abdank who was especially celebrated. He noticed
also something peculiar in the features of this man, a hidden
power which showed in his face at times, like the gleam from
the flame of a fire, a will of iron, which seemed to indicate
that this man would yield to no other man, nor to any cir-
cumstance. Prince Yeremy had just stich will-power ex-
Eressed in his features. But what was inborn in the Prince
y virtue of his high lineage and his position, mig'ht well
cause remark when found in a man of no known name, who
had lost his way in the desert steppes. Skshetuski pondered
long and deeply. At first it occurred to him that Abdank
might be a powerful outlaw who had sought to escape the
law by fleeing to the steppes; then again he thought that
he might be the captain of a band of robbers, but this did
not seem probable. The apparel and speech of the man indi-
cated some other position in life. The Commander did not
know what to make of it; he kept on guard while Abdank
ordered his horse to be led forward.

"Commander," the latter said, "time is everything for a
man on the road. Allow me to thank you once more for
having rescued me. May God grant that I can repay you
some day with equal service."

"I did not know whom I was rescuing, therefore I deserve
no thanks."

"Thus speaks your modesty, which is equalled only by
your courage. Accept this ring."

The Commander frowned, took a step backward, and
scanned Abdank closely. The latter, however, continued
with an almost paternal earnestness in his voice and bearing:

"See here, I am not giving you the ring for its intrinsic
value, but for its other virtues. While still a youth I was
held captive by the Mussulmans, and I received this ring
from a pilgrim who was just returning from the Holy I^nd.
In this little eye is contained dust from the Holy Sepulchre.
Such a gift should not be spurned though it came from the
hand of an outlaw. You are a young man and a soldier, and

i6

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

if the gray beard who is tottering to the grave does not
even kno\r what awaits him before his last hour, how much
less the youth, who has a long life before him and who
must meet with many an adventure. This ring will guard
and protect you from calamity when the Day of Judgment
comes, and I say to you that this lay is already beginning
to dawn across the Wild Lands."

He paused. There was silence for a moment save for the
crackling of the flames and the snorting of the horses.

From out the distant rushes, came the mournful howls
of the wolves. Suddenly, Abdank repeated, as if speaking
to himself:

"The Day of Judgment is already dawning across the Wild
Lands, and when it comes the world will wonder."

The Commander took the ring mechanically, so astonished
was he at the words of this remarkable man. Abdank, how-
ever stared fixedly into the darkness of the steppe. Then
he turned slowly and mounted his horse. His followers were
already at the foot of the hill.

"To the road! To the road! Farewell, dear soldier," said
he to the Commander. The times are such that one brother
dares not trust another, and that is the reason why you have
not discovered the identity of the man you rescued, for I
did not tell you my name."

"Then you are not Abdank?"

"That is my coat of arms. . . ."

"And your name?"

"Bogdan Zenovi Khmyelnitski."

Then he rode down the hill and his men followed him.
Speedily they were hidden from view by the night and the
mist; but when they had ridden some distance, the wind
bore back the words of a Cossack song:

*' Oh set us free Lord, us wretched slaves,
From hard bondaee,
From out the Moslem's bondage dread,
Into the bright morning.
By stiU waters
Into the joyful Land I
Into the Christian's world.
Hear our prayers, O Lord,
The prayers of the unhappy ;
We poor slaves."

The voices gradually died away and at last were lost in
the wind that whistled among the reeds.

CHAPTER II.

The next morning quite early Skshetuski reached Chigrin,
and put up in the house of Prince Yeremy, where he expected
to stay for some time in order to rest his men and horses
after the long journey from the Crimea. They had been
forced to make this journey by land, owing to the rise of the
Dnieper, and to its unusually strong current, for no boat
could make headway against the stream this winter. Skshe-
tuski himself was glad to rest awhile, and then he went to
see the former Commissary of the Commonwealth, Pftn Zats-
vilikhovski, a brave soldier, who although not in the service
of the Prince, was his trusty friend. The Commander de-
sired to ask him if he had any communications from Lubni.
The Prince had sent no special instructions, but had only
sent word that Skshetuski, if the Khan's answer were favor-
able, should proceed slowly on his journey, so as to spare
the horses and men. The Prince's business with the Khan
was as follows: It concerned the punishment of some Tartar
Murzaswhohad invaded his territory beyond the Dnieper, and
whom he had already severely punished. The Khan had given
a favorable reply to the prince's letter. lie had promised to
sendasepecial embassy in April to punish the disobedient, and
in order to keep on good terms with such a renowned war-
rior, he had sent the prince, by Skshetuski, a thoroughbred
horse anl a sable cap. Skshetuski who had fulfilled his
mission well, a mission that in itself was a proof of the high
esteem in which he was held by the prince, was delighted
to be allowed to stop in Chigrin, instead of having to hurry
homeward; but the old Zatsvilikhovski was very much wor-
ried over certain things that had been taking place in Chi-
grin for some time past. They went together, therefore, to
Dopula, a Wallaehian, who- kept a wine-shop in the town.
Here they found, although it was quite early, a crowd of
nobles. It was a market-day, and on this particular day, a
drove of cattle had been driven into Chigrin which were
on their way to the camp of the royal army; and this had
1 17

ig WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

brought a crowd of people to the place. The nobles were
wont to gather in the market-place in the so-called Bell-
corner, near Dopula's. Here were assembled tenants of Kon-
yetspolski, officials of Chigrin, proprietors of neighboring
estates, those that rented and those that owned them, inde-
pendent nobles, land-stewards, a few Cossack elders, and
many more of lower rank, some living on their own property,
and some on that of others.

These various groups all sat upon benches ranged about
oaken tables conversing in loud tones. The subject that
seemed to interest them all was the flight of Bogdan Zenovi
Khmyelnitski. This w^s the most important event that had
happened in town. Skshetuski took his place in a comer
with Zatsvilikhovski, and began to inquire of him what kind
of phoenix this Bogdan Zenovi Khmyelnitski was, of whom
everyone was speaking.

"Don't you know?" answered the old soldier. "He is the
Secretary of the Zaporojian army, the heir of Subota," and
he added softly; "My friend — we have long known each
other. We were companions-in-arms in many a battle, in
which he distinguished himself, especially under Tsetsora.
Such an accomplished soldier of wide military experience is
not to be found in the whole Commonwealth. One dare not
speak it aloud, but he has the head of a Hetman; a man of
gigantic intellect and great understanding. The Cossacks
obey him better than they do their own Koshovs and Ata-
mans; a man not without his good qualities, but proud, rest-
less, and when he hates — he can be terrible."

"What has happened to force him to flee from Chigrin?"

"Disputes with the starosta Chaplinski; but these were
trifles. It is nothing unusual for one noble to break up
another's domestic arrangements merely out of spite; he is
not the only one who has done it, and the starosta is not
the only one who has suffered. They say that he seduced a
wife of the starosta. The starosta had carried' off his sweet-
heart and married her, and in revenge Bogdan Zenovi Khmy-
elnitski, they say, seduced her, and this is probably true, for,
as a rule, women are giddy; but these are only pretenses
behind which more serious matters lie hidden. See, this is
how it was. In Cherkass there lived an old Cossack Colonel,
Barabash, a friend of mine. He had a privilege and writings
from the King, which, it was rumored, incited the Cossacks
to rebel against the nobility. But as he is a benevolent, good

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j^

man, he kept them to himself, and said nothing about them.
Rhmyelnitski invited Barabash to dinner at his house here
in Chigrin, and during his absence, he sent some of his
people to Barabash's country seat, who took his letters and
documents from his wife, and went off with them. May God
forbid that they should stir up another such rebellion as
that of Ostranitsa; for I repeat, he is a terrible man, and has
disappeared and is hiding, God only knows where.^'

Then Skshetuski answered.

"He is a fox; he has led me on slippery ground. He told
me that he was a Cossack Colonel under Prince Zaslavski.
I found him last night in the steppes, and rescued him from
the halter."

ZatsvilikhoYski put both hands to his head.

"In Qod^s name what do you say? That cannot be!"

"It is not only possible, it is a fact. He told me that he
was a Colonel under Prince Zaslavski, and that he was sent
on a mission by the great Hetman to Pan Grodzitski at
Kudak. But I did not believe him as he did not travel by
water, but sneaked through the steppes. Oh, he is crafty."

"Like Ulysses? Where did you meet him?''

"Beside the Omelnik, on the right bank of the Dnieper.
He was apparently riding towards Sich. He wanted to avoid
Kudak. Now I understand."

'^ere there many with him?"

"About forty, but they came too late. If my men had
not been on the spot, the starosta's people would have
strangled him."

"Stop, this is a serious matter. The servants of the star-
osta dia you say?"

"So he informed me."

*T5ow could the starosta know where to find him when
all the people in the town are racking their brains to discover
where he is hiding."

"I am sure I don't know, perhaps Khmyelnitski was lying,
and pretended that the common robbers were servants of the
starosta in order to make out a better case."

"Impossible, but it is a curious affair. You know that we
have letters from the Hetman commanding us to arrest
Khmyelnitski and to detain him in prison."

Ere the commander could reply a noble stalked into the
room with a great clatter. He banged the door several times,
looked boldly into the room, and called out: "My regards,
gentlemen/'

20 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

He was a man of forty years, of short stature, with an
overbearing look, and eyes that stood out like plums in his
head and were never still; apparently a very excitable, ner-
vous, easily-provoked man.

"Begards, gentlemen," he repeated, more loudly and with
greater emphasis, as no one answered him.

"Kegards! Regards!" was echoed by several voices.

It was Pan Chaplinski, vice-starosta of Ohigrin, the trusted
servant of the young standard-bearer Konyetspolski. He
was not popular in Chigrin, for he was a brawler and a bully,
and revengeful, but he had considerable influence, so it was
politic to be on good terms with him.

Zatsvilikhovski was the only one whom he respected and
esteemed, as indeed did every one, because of his dignity,
virtue, and valor. As soon as he spied him Chaplinski walked
across the room to where he sat, and bowing somewhat stiffly
to Skshetuski, he sat down beside him with his glass and
mead.

"Starosta," said Zatsvilikhovski: "Do you know what has
become of Khmyelnitski?"

"He has been hanged, as sure as my name is Chaplinski!
And if he is not hanged yet, he certainly will be. Now that
he has the Hetman's letters, I only wish that I could get
my hands upon him."

With these words he brought his clenched fist down upon
the table with such force that the glasses splashed over.

"Don't forget the wine, good sir," said Skshetuski.

Zatsvilikhovski interrupted him. "How can you hope to
catch him? He has fled, and not a soul knows where he is
hiding!"

"No one knows? I know as sure as my name is Chap-
linski. You know Khvedka. Well Khvedka is in his ser-
vice, but he is in mine also. He will turn Judas to Khmyel-
ntiski, tho^e is much to tell. Khvedka has become intimate
with Khmyelnitski's men. He is a shrewd fellow. He knows
every move and has undertaken to bring me Khmyelnitski
dead or alive, and he has gone across the steppes ahead of
him, and knows where he expects to stop, and will await
him there. Yes, he is a damned rascal.'' Here he banged
the table again.

"Don't spill the wine," repeated Skshetuski emphatically.
He felt a strong antipathy for this vice-starosta from the
first moment that he saw him.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 21

The noble colored, blinked his bulging eyes, and looked
insultingly at Skshetuski. As he remarked, however, that he
wore the colors of Vishnyovyetski he restrained himself;
for although Konyetspolski was at the time at enmity with
the Prince Vishnyovyetski, Chigrin was too near Lubni for
it to be safe to insult the Prince's colors. Then the Prince
had so picked his men that one would think twice before
entering into a quarrel with one of them.

"So Khvedka has undertaken to bring Khmyelnitski to
you?'' queried Zatsvilikhovski.

"Yes, and he will bring him, as sure as I am Chaplinski.^'

"And I say that he will not bring him — Khmyelnitski has
eluded his would-be captors, and is on his way to Sich, and
the Governor of Cracow must be notified of the fact to-day.
Khmyelnitski is not to be played with. In short, he has
more brain, a stouter arm, and better luck than you, who are
far too hasty. Khmyelnitski has continued his journey un-
injured, I repeat, and if you do not believe me, I will produce
the man who saw him only yesterday — on the steppes, and
who bid him Good-bye."

"That is impossible, impossible," cried Chaplinski, clutch-
ing at his hair with one hand.

"Moreover," continued Zatsvilikhovski, "this cavalier with
us rescued him himself, and cut down your servants, for
which, however, he is not guilty, in spite of letters from the
Hetman; for he was on his way back from the Crimea on
a special mission, and knew nothing of the letters. Coming
upon a man upon the steppes who had been set upon by
villains he went to his assistance. I am telling you about
Khmyelnitski's escape in good time, for he might hunt you
up at 3'our country-place and that might not be an unmixed
pleasure for you."

Upon this he began to quarrel with him and sputtered
"Phew! to the devil with you!"

Zatsvilikhovski did not love Chaplinski.

('haplinski sprang from his seat speechless with rage; his
face was purple, and his eyes seemed to be starting from his
head. He stood thus before Skshetuski, and uttered dis-
jointed sentences.

"How — what — ^you? In spite of the Ilet man's letter! I
wiU— I will—."

Skshetuski did not stir, he merely leaned his elbow on the
table, and stared at the stammering Chaplinski as a hawk
might look at a sparow in a net.

22 ^/rff FIRE AND 8W0RD,

"Why do you hang on to me like a can on a dog's tail?"
he inquired.

•'I will take you to court — ^you, in spite of the letters — the
Cossacks will — "

He shouted so loudly that every ooie in the room stopped
talking to listen. The people present turned their attention
to Chaplinski. He was always seeking a quarrel, that was
his nature. He made trouble with every one he met, but
that he should quarrel with Zatsvilikhovski, the only man
whom he respected, and with a soldier who wore Vishny-
ovyetski's colors was incredible.

"Keep quiet," said the old officer, "this gentleman is my
guest."

"I will — I will take you to court — to jail," screamed Chap-
linski, caring for nobody.

Skshetuski now stod up his full height, but did not draw
his sabre; he grasped it, however, in the middle, and put the
cross hilt tight under Chaplinski's nose.

"Just smell that," he said coolly.

"Damn you — here servants^" cried Chaplinski, and tried
to seize the hilt.

But he was not quick enough to draw the sword. The
young commander twisted him round, seized him by the collar
with one hand, and by the trousers below^ the belt with the
other, an J in spite of his struggles, lifted him bodily, and
carried him across the room between the benches to the door,
calling out:

"Brothers, make room for this horned beast, for he will
hurt."

When he reached the door, he pushed Chaplinski against
it, opened it, and then threw the vice-starosta out into the
street.

Then he returned quietly and sat down beside Zatsvilik-
hovski as before.

An absolute silence reigned in the room for a few minutes,
The strength which Skshetuski had displayed won the respect
of the nobles present. In a little while, however, the whole
room shook with laughter.

"Long live Vishnyovyetski's man?" cried all.

"He has fainted, he has fainted and is covered with blood,"
cried others, who out of curiosity peeped through the door,
to see what Chaplinski was going to do.

"His servants are lifting him up."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 23

Only a small part of the partisans of the vice-starosta were
silent, and as they had not courage to ta^ce his part, they
simply scowled at Skshetuski.

"To speak the truth to him causes this hound to snap at
one's heels/' said Zatsvilikhovski.

"He is a cur, not a hound!" said a stout noble as he ap-
proached. He had a cataract in one eye, and a hole in his
forehead, iihe size of a dollar, through which the naked bone
showed. "He is a cur, not a true hound. Allow me," said
he, turning to Skshetuski, "to offer you my regards. I am
Zagloba, my escutcheon is a star in the forehead, as anyone
may easily tell by this hole, which was made by the bullet of
a robber, when I was on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to do
penance for the sins of my youth."

"Give us peace!" said Zatsvilikhovski. "Once before, you
told us that some one had struck you on the forehead with a
glass at Radom."

"A robber's bullet, as sure as I live. The Radom affair is
another matter."

"You may perhaps have made a vow to go to the Holy
Land, but you have never been there, that is certain."

"I did not reach there, for I received my crown of martyr-
dom in Oalatz. If I lie, I am an arch-dog, and no noble-
man."

"Yes, and a dog that can bark."

*lf I am a rogue, I will be an open one. My regards to
you. Commander."

Meantime, others drew near to make the acquaintance of
Skshetuski, and to assure him of their friendship, as they did
not like Chaplinski, and were pleased to see him disgraced.
It is strange and hardly credible at this day that the entire
nobility in the neighborhood of Chigrin, as also the smaller
landed proprietors and farmers, and even those serving the
Konyetspolskis, all knowing the enmity between Chaplinski
and Khmyelnitski, took the part of the latter. Khmyelnitski
was known as a distinguished soldier, who had won well-
earned laurels in many wars. It was also known that the King
himself was on intimate terms with him and prized his opin-
ions very highly. The whole quarrel was looked upon as an
ordinary contention between two nobles, such as happen by
the thousand, especially in Russian lands. They, therefore,
sided with the one most popular, little dreaming of the ter-
rible results that would follow. It was not until later that

24 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

their hearts were filled with hatred against Khmyelnitski, as
were also the hearts of the nobles and clergy of both rituals.

Men stepped up to Skshetuski with glasses in their hand
and said:

"Drink, brother! Drink with me/^

"Drink with me also?" "Long live Vishnyovyetski/' "So
young, and already a lieutenant of the Prince." "Long live
Prince Yeremy, the Hetman of Hetmans. We will go with
Prince Yeremy to the end of the world. Against Turks and
Tartars, and to Constantinople. Long live our gracious Lord
and King, Vladislav the Fourth." The one who shouted the
loudest was Pan Zagloba. He seemed ready to out-drink and
out-talk a whole regiment.

"Sirs," he shouted, so that the window-panes rattled, "I
have already sued the Sultan on account of the assault made
upon me in Galatz."

*'Do not blow so much about yourself, you might get lock-
jaw."

"In what way, good sir? Quaiuor articuli judicii cas-
trensis : stuprum, incendium, latrocinium et vis armata alienis
aedibus illata. Was not that vis armatat"

"You cluck like a woodcock."

"I will go before the highest court."

"Oh keep quiet."

"I will obtain judgment. I will show him up as a rascal,
and then war — even with infamy."

"Here's to your health, gentlemen."

Skshetuski broke out laughing with the others, for the wine
had begun to take effect upon him. But the noble continued
like a woodcock delighted with its own voice. By s^ood chance
his speech was interrupted by another noble, who approached
and pulled him by the sleeve, and said with a singing Lithu-
anian accent:

"Introduce me also, Pan Zagloba, to Pan Skshetuski.*'

"Oh, certainly, with pleasure."

"Lieutenant, this is Pan Povsinoga."

"Podbipyenta," corrected the noble.

"It^s all the same, of the coat of arms of Zervipludri."

"Zervicaptur," corrected the noble again.

"If 8 all the same, from Psikishki." (Dog's entrails.)

"From Myshikishki," said the nobleman.

"It's all the same, nescio whether I prefer mouse or dog
entrails, but I am sure that I would not like to live in either,

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 25

for to dwell therein is not easy, and to go out is not polite?
Sir,'' he continued to Pan Skshetuski, pointing at the Lithu-
anian— "for a week I have been drinking at the expense of
this noble, who carries a sword at his belt as heavy as his
money belt, and a money belt that is as heavy as his wit. But
if I have ever drunk at the expense of a more original fellow
than this, you may call me as big a fool as this man who pays
for my wine."

"He is out with him now," cried laughingly the assembled
nobles.

But the Lithuanian did not get angry. He only waved his
hand, smiled pleasantly, and answered:

"You should give us peace, it does not sound well."
Skshetuski looked with interest at the stranger who in
truth deserved the appellation of an original fellow. In the
first place he was so tall, that his head nearly struck the ceil-
ing, and his extraordinary leanness, made him appear still
taller. His broad shoulders and sinuous neck betokened great
strength, but he was only skin and bone. His stomach had
so sunk in beneath his chest that one might have thought he
was starving, although he was comfortably dressed in a gray
coat of Freiburg cloth, with tight sleeves, and a pair of Swed-
ish high boots, which were just coming into fashion in
Litnuania. A broad and well-wadded belt of elk skin for
want of support fell to his hips, and from it hung a Crusader^s
sword, so long that it reached almost to the arm pit of this
gigantic man.

But whoever the sword might scare, would soon be reas-
sured by the countenance of its possessor; a face as lean as the
entire whole person, adorned with drooping eyebrows and an
equally drooping hemp-colored moustache, but with an hon-
est open expression, like that of a child. The drooping brows
and moustache gave the face a distressed and sad, and at the
same time a comical expression. He looked like a man whom
people would take anvantage of, but he pleased Skshetuski
because of his honest face and his perfect soldierly self-con-
trol,

"Lieutenant," said he, "you are in the service of Prince
Vishnyovyetski ?"
"At your service."

The Lithuanian folded his hands as if in prayer and raised
his eyes heavenward. "Ah, what a warrior he is, what a
knight, what a leaderl''

26 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"God grant the Commonwealth many such."

"Yes, indeed! Is it possible for me to enter into his ser-
vice?"

"He would gladly receive you."

At this point Zagloba joined in the conversation.

"The Prince would then have two spits in his kitchen; one
would be yourself, and the other your sword. Or, he would
employ you as hangman, and would hang the criminals round
your neck. Or he will use you as an executioner, or will give
orders for the robbers to be hanged on you, or use you as a
yard-stick for measuring cloth. Pshaw! As a man and a
Catholic, you are not ashamed to be as long as a serpent, or a
Pagan lance?"

"It is disgusting to hear it," said the Lithuanian patiently.

"May I ask your name," said Skshetuski, "for when you
spoke, Pan Zagloba interrupted us so with his shouting, that
I was really unable to catch it."

"Podbipyenta."

"Povsinoga," interrupted Zagloba.

"Zervicaptur of Myshikishki."

"Now you have it straight. I drink his wine, but FU be
hanged if those are not infidel names."

"Is it long since you left Lithuania?" asked the lieutenant.

"I have been in Chigrin just two weeks. When I heard
through Pan ZatsvilikovsKi that you were to pass through
Chigrin, I waited in order to present my petition to the Prince
with your recommendation."

"May I ask you out of curiosity why you wear such an
executioner's sword at your side?"

"This is no executioner's sword, Lieutenant, this is a cru-
sader's sword. I carry it because it is a trophy of war and
an heirloom of our family. It did good service at Khoinits
in Lithuanian hands and that is why I wear it."

"But it is a frightful weapon and must be tremendously
heavy, you must use both hands to it."

"It can be wielded with both hands or one."

"Let me look at it?"

The Lithuanian took the sword off and handed it to Skshet-
uski, but Skshetuski 's hand gave way at its weight. He could
neither handle it, nor strike a blow with it with one hand. He
could swing it with both hands, but it was still very heavy.
Skshetuski felt a little ashamed, and turning to those present,
he said: "Now, gentlemen, which of you can describe a cross
with this sword?"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 27

**We have all tried it," answered several voices, '%\xt the
commissary Pan Zatsvilikoyski alone can lift it, and he cannot
make a cross with it."

"And you, sir," said Skshetuski, turning to the Lithuanian.

The noble lifted the sword as if it were a slender cane, and
whirled it about with the greatest ease, until the room was
filled with a swishing sound and a light breeze swept over the
faces of those who stood about.

"God be with you," said Skshetuski. "You may be sure of
a place in the Prince's service."

"God knows how I desire it, the sword will not get rusty
in his service."

"But how about your wits?" said Zagloba. "You cannot
manage so well about them?"

Zatsvilikovski now arose and got ready to leave the room
with the lieutenant, when a man with snow white hair en-
tered the room and seeing Zatsvilikhovski called out:

"Colonel, I have come here expressly to see you." It was
Barabash, the Cossack Colonel.

"Let us go to my quarters?" said Zatsvilikhovski, "the room
here is so full of smoke that one can hardly see."

They passed out together and Skshetuski with them. Ai
they crossed the threshold, Barabash asked:

"Is there any news of Khmyelnitski?"

"He has fled to Sich. This oflScer met him on the steppes."

"Then he did not go by water? I sent a courier to arrest
him at Kudak, but as it is, this was of no use."

Then Barabash covered his eyes with his hands and re-
peated several times:

"Ay, Christ' save us! Christ save us!"

'^hat do you fear?"

^T)o you not know what he obtained from me through
treachery? Do you know what it means if .such documents
are published in Sich? Help us, oh Christ? Unless the King
makes war on the Musulmans, this will be a spark in a pow-
der magazine."

"Do you predict a rebellion?"

"I do not predict one, I see one, and Khmyelnitski is a
better man than Nalevayki and Loboda."

'*Who will follow his lead?"

"Who? All the Zaporojians, registered regiments. The
townspeople; the peasants; the small land-owners and I know
not who besides."

28' ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD,

Here Barabash pointed to the market-place and to the peo-
ple trading there. The whole square was packed with gray
oxen which were being driven to Korsun for the soldiers, and
with the oxen were a great number of herdsmen, who spent
their whole lives in the steppes and deserts, absolutely savage
men, having no religion {^'Religionis nullius^^ as Voyevoda
Kiesel said) of any kind. They looked more like desperados
than like shepherds, fearful and terrible, clothed in a variety
of lakhmans. Most of them were clad in sheepskin coats, with
hair upon the outside, which hung loosely from their shoul-
ders, so that although it was winter time, one could see the
bare chest, tanned by the winds of the steppes. They were
all armed, but with the most diverse weapons; some had bows
and quivers slung across their backs; others bore muskets, or
squealers as the Cossacks called them; some carried Tartar
swords, others carried scythes, and still others had only a stick
with a horse's jaw bone fastened to one end of it. Among
them mingled the no less savage, but better armed men from
the Nij, who were taking dried fish, game, and mutton-tal-
low to sell in the camp. Farther on were ox-drivers with salt
to sell, bee-hunters from the steppes and forests, bee-farmers
with honey, settlers with pitch and tar, peasants with teams,
Cossack regulars; Tartars from Byalogrod, and God knows
who besides. Loiterers and Siromakhs from the ends of the
earth. The town was full of drunken men, who all had quar-
ters in Chigrin, and who indulged in carousals before they
sought their beds. A huge fire had been built in the market-
place, and here and there a barrel of pitch was burning. On
every side was noise and tumult. The piercing notes of the
Tartar fifes, and the roll of drums mingled with the bellowing
of the oxen, and the softer notes of lyres, to which blind
minstrels sang the then popular song.

" Oh bright falcon.
My own true brother,
Thou soarest so high,
Thou seest so far,'*^

Mingled with the song, sounded the wild shouts of Cos-
sacks who were dancing the tropak in the market-place, com-
pletely drunk, and smeared from head to foot with tar. Hu,
ha-hu, ha! — it was all so wild and mad. Zatsvilikhovski
needed only a glance to convince him that Barabash was right,
that it needed but the slightest breath to set free those un-
bridled elements only too ready to plunder and accustomed

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 29

to war with which the whole Ukraine was filled, and just be-
hind these masses stood Sich and the Zaporojians, that had
only recently been bridled and kept under according to
MasloY Stav, but who were restlessly champing the bit, re-
membering their old prerogatives and hating commissaries,
but representing an organized force. And this force had the
sympathy of the unnumbered masses of the peasantry behind
it, less patient of control here than in other portions of the
Commonwealth because in their vicinity was Chertomelik,
where lawlessness, murder, and robbery prevailed. The stand-
ard-bearer, who was a Russian and a zealous advocate of
Eastern Rites, fell into sad reflections.

He was an old man and he well remembered the times of
Nalevayka, Loboda, and Kremski; he knew the Ukraine rob-
ber ways perhaps better than any one in Russia, and at the
same time, he knew also Khmyelnitski, and knew that this
man was worth twenty times as much as Loboda, and Nale-
vayka. He appreciated, therefore, the danger implied by his
flight to Sich, especially on account of the letters from tlie
King, of which Pan Barabash had spoken, which, as he said,
were full of promises to the Cossacks, and invited them to
rebel.

"Colonel of the Circassians,** said he to Barabash, "you
ought to ride to Sich, to weaken Khmyelnitski's influence and
pacify the people.*'

"Ensign," answered Barabash, "I will tell you this much,
that at the earliest rumor of Khmyelnitski's flight with tlic
documents, half of my Circassians followed him this niglit.
My hour is past — the grave awaits me, not the field-marshaFs
baton."

In fact Barabash was a valiant soldier, but an old man
and without influence.

Meantime, they had arrived at Zatsvilikhovski's quarters.
The old officer had regained the composure that was natural
to his gentle disposition, and as they sat down to half a pot
of mead, he said cheerfully:

"All these things are but trifles, if, as it is said, war against
the Mussulmans is preparing. And it certainly must be so,
for although the Commonwealth does not desire war, and the
Diet has opposed him, the King can yet assert his will. This
fire can be employed against the Turks, and in any event, we
have time upon our side. I will go myself to the Governor in
Cracow, will inform him how matters stand, and will beg him,

30 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

as he is nearest to us, to come to our aid with his forces.
Whether I shall succeed, I know not, for though he is a brave
lord, and a warrior, he is over-confident in himself, and his
army. You, Colonel, hold the Circassians in check; and you,
lieutenant, warn the Prince, when you reach Lubni to keep
special watch on Sich. Should they begin operations I repeat
we still have time. There are not many people in Sich just
now; they are out fishing and hunting, or in the villages
round about the Ukraine. Before they gather together, the
waters of the Dnieper may be considerably swollen. In ad-
dition to this the name of the Prince is feared, and if they
find out that he has his eye upon Chertomelik they will prob-
ably keep quiet.''

"I could, if it were necessary, start from Chigrin in a
couple of days," said the lieutenant.

"That's good. Two or three days make no difference. And
you. Colonel of the Circassians, send couriers to inform Prince
Dominik, and the Royal Standard-Bearer, but I see that you
are already asleep."

In fact Barabash had folded his hands across his stomach
and was fast asleep. Presently, he even began to snore. When
the Cossack Colonel was not eating or drinking (which he
loved above everything) he was sleeping.

"See here," said Zatsvilikhovski, softly to the lieutenant,
"With the assistance of an old man like this, the statesman
at Warsaw expect to hold the Cossacks in check. May God
help them! They even trust Khmyelnitski himself, and the
Chancellor has entered into negotiations with him; he will
most likely find his confidence betrayed."

The lieutenant sighed to show his sympathy. Barabash
only snored louder, and murmured in his sleep:

"Save us, Oh Christ! Save us!"

"When do you expect to leave Chigrin?" asked the ensign.

"I must wait two days for Chaplinski, who will certainly
want to call me out to wipe out the indignity he has suf-
fered."

"He will never do that. He would sooner send his ser-
vants against you, if you did not wear the Prince's colors — ^but
it is a bad business to quarrel with the Prince, even for the
servants of the Konyetspolski."

"I shall send him word that I await him and shall leave the
town in two or three days. I do not fear an ambush while I
have a sword at my side, and a handful of men."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 3,

With these words the lieutenant took his leave of the old
ensign and departed.

There was such a bright glow in the sky above the town
from the great fires in the market-place, that one might have
imagined that the whole of Chigrin was in flames, especially
as the noise and shouts grew louder as night approached.
The Jews dared not venture from their houses. From every
comer crowds of herders howled their melancholy songs of
the steppes, while savage Zaporojians danced about the fires,
throwing their caps in the air, firing off their guns and drink-
ing gorzalka by the quart. Here and there arose a fight
which was quelled by the starosta's men. The lieutenant
was forced to beat his way through the crowd with the handle
of his sabre, and hearing the noisy Cossacks, it seemed to him
at times as if the rebellion had already broken out. He fan-
cied also that he could hear subdued curses. The words of
Barabash still rang in his ears: "Christ save us! Christ
save us!" and his heart beat faster.

Meanwhile the songs of the herders grew louder in the
town and the Zaporojians continued to fire and fill themselves
with gorzalka.

The noise of the firing and the wild "U-ha!— U-ha!" still
echoed in his ears as he lay down to sleep in his quarters.

CHAPTER III.

A few days later, the Lieutenant and his retinue were
marching with quick pace towards Lubni. When they had
forded the Dnieper, they marched along the broad highway
across the steppes which connects Chigrin with Lubni, wind-
ing through Juki, Semimogil and Khorol. Similar roads led
from the capital of the Prince's territory to Kiev. In earlier
times, before the battle which Hetman Jolkyevski fought
against Solonitza, there were no roads at all; one had to travel
from Lubni to Kiev across the steppes and over the desert;
the way to Chigrin was by water, and on returning one passed
through Khorol. Taking it all together, the country beyond
the Dnieper, the former land of the Polovyets, was a desert,
scarcely more populous than the Wild Lands, often infested
by Tartars, and without protection from the bands of Zaporo-
jians.

On the banks of the Sula, rose immense forests, teeming
with life, seldom traversed by the foot of man. At certain
places on the slopes of the Sula, and Ruda, Sleporod, Koro-
vaya, Orjavtsa, Pshol, and other greater and smaller rivers
and streams, marshes had formed. These were partly over-
grown with thick brush, and forests, and partly open land re-
sembling a meadow. In these woods and morasses, animal?,
of all descriptions found a convenient hiding-place. In tlie
darkest depths of the forests roamed an immense number of
aurochs,* bears, and wild-boars, and also an incalculable
number of wolves, lynxes, martens, herds of deer, and red
antelopes. In the swamps and pools, beavers built their dams;
and the saying was current among Zaporojians, that among
these beavers, there were some a century old, and snow-white
with age.

On the high dry steppes, roamed herds of wild horses with
shaggy heads and blood-shot eyes. The rivers teemed with •
fish, and water-fowl. It was a wonderful country, half-asleep,

1 LiteraUy the " bearded Tura " (Aurochs.)
32

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

33

but full of traces of previous human habitation. Everywhere
might be seen the ruins of former dwellings. Lubni and
Khorol themselves had risen from such ashes; everywhere
were grave-mounds, new and old overgrown with shrubs and
trees. And here as in the Wild Lands, ghosts and vampires
appeared at night. Old Zaporojians recounted to one another,
as they sat around their fires, the wonderful things that hap-
pened in those forest depths, where even now the howling of
strange animals could be heard. Weird noises, htlf-human
and half-brute, as if the terrible cries of battle mingled with
those of the chase. From rivers and lakes came muffled
sounds as of the ringing of bells from cities that lay sub-
merged beneath their waters. It was not a . hospitable, ac-
cessible country, for in some places it was too wet and soggy,
in others there was lack of water, and the land wa3 parched
and dry; moreover, it was not safe for human habitation, for
when colonists settled there for agriculture they were soon
swept away by Tartar invasions. These Zaporojians were the
only people who visited the country in order to trap beaver,
and to kill game, and catch fish. For in times of peace the
majority of the people at Sich and Nij, spent most of their
time in hunting, or as it was called in doing business on all
the rivers, in all the rivers, forests, marshes, and glens; beaver-
hunting in spots whose whereabouts were known to very few.
But settled life still sought to find an abiding-place in this
country, like plants which endeavor to take root in the soil
wherever they can, and which, though frequently torn up,
spring up again in unexpected places.

On these desert places arose cities, settlements, colonies,
villages, and farms. The soil was in many places fertile, and
freedom allured. But it was not until the country came into
the possession of the Princes Vishnyovyetski that life began
to flourish there. Prince Michael after his marriage with a
Mohilovian lady, began to cultivate his territory beyond the
Dnieper. He attracted people thither, settled the desert
places, gave exemption from military services for thirty years,
built moi asteries, introduced his princely authority. Even
the settlers who had come into the country at some early
period, and thought that they were on their own ground, were
glad to join the ranks of the Prince's tenants, for by so doing
they put themselves under the protection of a mighty power
that could shield and defend them from the Tartars and from
the swarms of the even more dangerous Nijovs (lowlanders).

34 ^JTE FIRE AND SWORD.

But real activity only flourished under the iron rule of young
Prince Yeremy. His territory began immediately outside
Chigrin and extended far away to the confines of Konotop and
Komni. These were not all his princely possessions, but,
starting from the province of San Domirski his territory ex-
tended to the provinces of Volhynia, Russia, and Kiev; but
his domain beyond the Dnieper was the eye in the head of
the victor of Puty^'la.

Long did the Tartar lurk on the borders of the Orla, and
the Vorskla, and sniffed like a wolf before he ventured to
urge his horses northwards. The Nijovs dared make no
trouble. The restless bands on the territory became subjects;
while bands of marauders who had long lived by violence and
raids, w^ere now held in check by the military outposts on the
borders of the territory, and like chained dogs, showed their
teeth threateningly to passers-by.

Thus development and a flourishing condition of things
came to pass. Roads were made on the traces of the old
highways; rivers w^ere dammed by Tartar slaves, or by the
Nijovs who had been captured with weapons in their hands in
acts of violence. Where once the night wind had blustered
through the reeds, where wolves and vampires had howled,
now^ mill-wheels sounded. Beside the wind-mills more than
four hundred mill-wheels ground grain beyond the Dnieper.
Forty thousand tenants poured their tributes into the coffers
of the Prince; the forest swarmed with apiaries, and on their
borders there rose new villages, hamlets, and farm-houses.
On the steppes side by side with wild horses, there grazed
domestic cattle and horses. The needless monotony of the
steppes and forest was broken by the smoke from cottage
chimneys and by the gilded spires of the churches and chapels.
The waste had been transformed into a populous country.

The Commander therefore,, rode on gayly, leisurely, as
though he were travelling over his own lands, and found se-
cure resting-places along the road. It was the beginning of
January, 1648, but the unusual and remarkably mild winter
brought but little suffering. The breath of spring was in
the air; over the earth gleamed many little puddles caused by
the thaw; the fields were clothed with green; the sun's rays
were so powerful that at mid-day furs were as burdensome as
they are in summer. The Commander's suite had been con-
siderably augmented, for, in Chigrin, it was joined by a Wal-
lachian embassy which the Hospodar had sent to Lubni in

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 35

the person of Pan Eozvan-Ursu. An escort accompanied the
embassy, together with wagons and servants; travelling with
the Lieutenant also was our friend Pan Longin Podbip-
yenta, of the House of Torn-Cowl, with his long sword at his
side, and followed by some sen^ants.

The bright sun, the clear weather and the breath of ap-
proaching spring filled all hearts with gladness; the Lieu-
tenant was all the more happy for he was returning from a
long journey to the roof of the prince which was also his own,
and, as he had fulfilled his mission . well, he was sure of a
hearty welcome.

But he had other grounds for his gladness.

Besides the favor of the prince whom the lieutenant loved
with all his heart, there was in Lubni a certain pair of black
eyes as sweet as honey. These eyes belonged to Anusia Bor-
zobahata Khrasyenska, lady in waiting to Princess Grizelda;
the most beautiful of all the ladies of the princely household.
She was a great flirt, whom every man in Lubni sighed for,
but who appeared to care for no one in particular. Princess
Grizelda maintained a strict propriety and a rigid austerity in
her court, but this, however, did not deter the young people
from exchanging loving glances and ardent sighs. Pan
Skshetuski in common with others, directed many gleaming
glances toward the dark-eyed beauty, and sometimes when he
was alone in his quarters, he would take up his lute and sing:

" Thou art the fairest of the fair ; "

or

" The Tartar makes captives of people.
But thou makest captives of hearts."

t;

But as he was a joyous man, and a thorough-going soldier,
entirely devoted to his profession, he did not take it very
seriously to heart that Anna smiled upon Pan Vykhovts of
the Wallachian cavalry, or upon Pan Vurtsel, of the artillery,
or upon Pan Volodiyovski of the dragoons, as well as upon
himself, and that she even smiled upon Pan Baronovski of the
huzzars, although he had gray hair and lisped, because a mus-
ket-ball had smashed the roof of his mouth. Our Lieutenant
had even crossed swords once with Pan Volodiyovski on
Anusia's account. But if he was forced to remain too long in
Lubni without any war against the Tartars, life became
tedious to him, even in Anusia's presence, and if he was called
to the front, he went gladly without sorrow or regret.

36 ^^I'B FIRE AND SWORD.

At the same time he was always glad to come home again,
and as he was now returning from the Crimea after bringing
his mission to a satisfactory conclusion, he hummed joyfully
to himself as he galloped alongside of Pan Longin, who be-
strode an enormous Livonian mare, and maintained his usual
thoughtful and serious expression. The wagons of the em-
bassy, and of the escort, remained some distance in the rear.

"The ambassador is sleeping like a log in his carriage,"
said the lieutenant. "He chattered to me about Wallachia
until he grew weary. I listened to him out of curiosity. It
is a rich country — nothing else — excellent climate, gold wines,
tropical fruits, and cattle without number. I thought to my-
self: Our prince is a descendant from a Mohilovian, and has
just as good a right to wear the crown of the Hospodars as
any one else. Prince Michael had made good his title to it.
Wallachia is not new to our master, he has already beaten the
Turks, the Tartars, the Wallachians, and the Transylvanians
on its soil ."

"But the people there are not so hardy as we are, so Pan
Zagloba told me in Chigrin," said Longin, "and if I did not
believe what he said there is a confirmation of the fact in
the prayer-book."

"What, in the prayer-book?"

"I have one here, and I can show it to you. I always carry
one with me."

Saying, he unfastened the straps of his saddle-bag and took
out a small book, neatly bound in calf, and kissing it piously,
he turned a dozen pages and said: "Read."

Skshetuski began: "We flee to thee for refuge, Holy
Mother of God," — Where is there anything about the Wal-
lachians? What are you talking about? This is an anti-
phone."

"Bead on."

" That we may be worthy of the promises of the Lord

through Christ, Amen."

"Well, now come to the question."

Skshetuski read on: Question: "Why do they call the
Wallachian cavalry light cavalry?" Answer: "Because it runs
away lightly. H'm! true!" "Well, indeed, but there is a
strange mixture of subjects in this prayer-book."

"Yes, because this is a military book where the prayers are
interspersed with various military instructions, wherein you
can get information of all nations, and can find out which

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 37

are good and which are bad. As for the Wallachians, it is
evident that they are cowardly servants, and above all, great
traitors."

"That they are traitors is certain. That was proven by the
adventures of Prince Michael. And, to tell the truth, I have
also heard that the Wallachian is by nature a bad soldier, al-
though the Prince has an extraordinary fine Wallachian regi-
ment commanded by Pan Bikhovyets. But I am not positive
if in the whole regiment are to be found twenty Wallachians."

"What think you lieutenant? Has the prince many men
under arms?"

"There may be eight thousand, not counting the Cossacks
who are in quarters. But Zatsvilikhovski told me that fresh
troops had been called out."

"Then will God give a war under the Prince?"

**lt is said that great preparations are being made for a
war with the Turks; that the King is to advance with the en-
tire force of the Commonwealth. I know that the gifts to
the Tartars have been kept back, and that they dare not stir
for fear of consequences. While I was in the Crimea, I heard
of it, and it was doubtless on this account that I was so well
received; for the report is current that if the King marches
forth with the Hetmans, the Prince will attack the Crimea
and make an end of the Tartars. One thing is certain, no
one else would be intrusted with such an undertaking.

Pan Longin raised his hands and eyes towards heaven.

"Grant, gracious God, such a holy war to the honor of
Christendom and our people; and grant to me, a sinner, that
I may fulfil my vow, that I may find happiness in battle, or
meet an honorable death."

"Then you have made a vow upon this war?"

"To such a noble knight as yourself I will lay bare all the
secrets of my soul although T have much to tell; but if you
will lend me your ear, I will begin. Incipiam, you know my
coat-of-arms is Cowl-Trencher, which arises from the fol-
lowing story: 'When my ancestor, Stoveiko Podbipyenta saw
near Grunwald three knights in Monkish garb riding towards
him, he charged them, and with one stroke cut off their
heads and this fact is related by all the chroniclers with much
praise for my ancestors.' "

"Your ancestor's hand was no lighter than your own, and
he was rightly given the name Cowl-Trencher."

"The King gave him a coat-of-arms on which were three

38 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

goats' heads on a field argent, as a remembrance of those
knights for similar heads were graven on their shields. This
coat-of-arms together with the sword which I carry, was bc-
queatlied by my ancestor Podbipyenta to his heirs, with the
wish that they might maintain the glory of the race and of the
sword."

"Certainly, you come of noble stock!*'

Here Longin began to sigh pitifully; and as soon as he
seemed to feel more cheerful, he continued:

"I am the last of my race. I made a vow in Troki to the
Most Holy Virgin, that I would live in chastity, and would
not enter the married state until I had, with this sword, cut
off three heads at one blow, like my ancestor Stovieko Podbip-
yenta. 0, gracious Heaven, Thou seest that I have done all
that was in my power! I have kept my vow of chastity to this
day; I have bid my yearning heart be still; I have sought war;
I have had no luck. . . ."

The lieutenant laughed under his moustache.

"You have not cut off the three heads ?'*

"Why, I have not had the opportunity. I have had no
luck. Two I have had the chance at, but never three. One
can hardly beg enemies to place themselves in a line to be
cut down. God only knows my sorrow. The strength is in
my bones. Fortune is there, but youth is gone. I shall soon
be forty-five years old; my heart pines for love; my race is
dying out, and the three heads have not yet come! ....
that is the kind of Cowl-Trencher I am! the laughing stock of
men, as Zagloba rightly says, but I bear everything with pa-
tience, and offer myself to the Lord Jesus."

The Lithuanian sighed so heavily that even the mare, evi-
dently from sympathy with her master, also began to sigh
and to snort piteously.

"I can tell you one thing," said the lieutenant, "if you find
no apportunity under Prince Yeremy, you will find one no-
where."

"God grant it!" answered Longin. "That is why I am seek-
ing the Prince's favor."

The conversation was interrupted by the unusual sound of
flapping wings. As we have already said, this winter the birds
did not migrate; the rivers were not frozen, and consequently
there was an extraordinary number, especially of aquatic
birds, in the marshes. Just as the Lieutenant and Longin
were approaching the bank of the Kahamlik, they suddenly

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 39

saw above their heads a whole flock of cranes flying so low
that one could have thrown a stick at them. They made loud
noises as they flew, and instead of alighting among the reeds
they unexpectedly rose higher into the air.

"They fly as if they were pursued," said Skshetuski.

"Ha! Did you see that?" said Pan Longin, pointing to a
white bird who darted through the air in a diagonal line and
sought to overtake the cranes.

"A falcon! a falcon! lie won't let them alight," cried the
commander. "The ambassador has falcons. He must have
let one loose!"

Just then the ambassador came up to them, riding at quick
pace on his black Anatolian horse, and following him were
some of the servants' conveyances.

"Pan Commander, I invite you to enjoy some sport," he
said.

"Is that your Excellency's falcon?"

"Yes; a fine one, you shall see. ..."

They galloped on three abreast. The Wallachian falconer
followed with the hoop. He fixed his eyes sharply on the
bird, shouted with all his might, and incited the falcon to the
fray. The powerful bird had meanwhile forced the cranes
to rise in the air. Then, with lightning swiftness, he rose
higher himself and hung suspended above them. The cranes
formed in an immense circle, and rustled their wings like a
wind storm. A threatening sound filled the air. The birds
stretched out their necks, turning their beaks upward, like
spears and awaited the attack.

The falcon circled above them. Now he would sink a little;
then he would rise in the air as if he were hesitating about
swooping do\^Ti on the hundred sharp beaks that awaited him.
His feathers gleamed in the sunlight and looked as bright as
the sun itself in the unclouded blue of the sky. x\ll at once,
instead of swooping down upon the cranes, he darted off like
an arrow into space, and disappeared among the trees and
reeds.

Skshetuski was the first to rush on in search for him; the
Ambassador and Tx)ngin followed his lead.

At the bend of the road the Lieutenant suddenly reined in
his horse. A strange sight met his eye. In the middle of the
highway lay an overturned carriage with a broken axle. The
horses, harnessed, were held by iwo Cossack })oys: no coach-
man was in sight. He had evidently ridden off to look for

40 WITE FIRE AND SWORD.

assistance. Standing by the carriage were two women: one
dressed in a fox-skin cloak and a fox-skin cap with a round
brim. Her face was coarse and masculine. The other was a
young lady with regular, clear-cut features. Upon the shoul-
der of this yoimg girl was perched a falcon; his wings were
spread over her breast and he was stroking her with his beak.

The lieutenant pulled up his horse so suddenly that its
hoo-fs dug deep into the sand on the highway. Then he put
his hand up to his cap, but did not know in his embarrass-
ment what he ought to say; — whether he should salute the
ladies, or ask about the falcon. The secret of his embarrass-
ment was this, that beneath the marten-cap two eyes looked
out — eyes beside which even those of Anusia Borzobahata
would lose their lustre, as a candle would be dimmed by the
light of a torch. Above these eyes were dark, silky brows,
like two delicate bows. Tlie blushing cheeks bloomed like
the fairest flower; and between the rosy, half-open lips peeped
teeth like pearls, while from under the cap she wore floated
luxuriant black tresses. "Is that Juno herself, or some other
divinity," thought the lieutenant, as he gazed at the slender,
well-formed figure, at the fair, swelling bosom, and at the
white falcon perched on her shoulder. Our lieutenant stood
there with his cap off, and stared as at a fairy scene; but his
eyes gleamed, and his heart thumped in his breast. He was
about to say, "If thou art mortal and not a goddess. . . ."
but just at that moment up came the Ambassador and Pan
Longin, and with them the falconer with his hoop.
When the "goddess" saw this, she held out her hand to the
falcon, which stepped down from her arm to perch on her
hand, putting one foot before the other. The lieutenant
wanted to get ahead of the falconer and take the bird off her
hand, when suddenly a strange omen occurred. The falcon
left one foot on the hand of the girl, and, with the other, he
clutched the Lieutenant's hand; and instead of stepping on
to it, he began to scream for joy and to drag the two hands
together with such force that they touched each other. The
lieutenant felt a cold chill come over him and the falcon
would not let himself be taken until the falconer had drawn
the hood over his head. Then the old lady began to speak.

"Sir knight," she said, "whoever you be, you will not re-
fuse your protection to two women who have been left with-
out assistance on their journey and who do not know what to
do. It is not more than three^ miles to our home, but the

s A Russian mUe is eqniyalent to nearly five American miles.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 41

axle of our carriage is broken, and there is nothing for us
but to stay all night o»n the open plains. I have sent the
coachman to my sons to ask them to send us a carriage; but
before he reaches them and returns to us, it will be dark, and
we are afraid to stay in this dreadful place, for there are
grave-mounds close by.

The old lady spoke rapidly, and in such a coarse voice that
the lieutenant was surprised; but he answered politely:

"Could you imagine that we could leave you and your beau-
tiful daughter without protection? We are journeying to
Liubni; where we are soldiers in the service of His Excellency,
Prince Yeremy and we have our own route, it is true; but
even so, we would willingly take the same road as you do
if our company is agreeable to you. As for the carriage, we
have none, for my companions and I pursue our journey
soldier fashion, on horseback; but the ambassador has one,
and I know that as a courteous knight, he will willingly place
it at your disposal.'^

The ambassador raised his high sable shako, for knowing
Polish, he understood the conversation. He then greeted
the ladies as a polite boyar, and ordered the falconer to bring
up the carriages that had remained some distance behind.

Meanwhile the lieutenant looked at the young lady who
became abashed at his searching glances, and cast her eyes
down to the ground. Thfe old lady with the Cossack features
continued however:

"May God Almighty reward you for this aid; and as it is
still a long way to Lubni, let me beg you' not to despise my
roof and that of my sons, beneath which we will gladly wel-
come you. We are from Rozloga-Siromakhi. 1 am the
widow of Prince Kurtsevich, and this is not my daughter,
but the daughter of the elder Kurtsevich, a brother of my
husband, who entrusted his orphan to our care. My sons
are now at home. I am returning home from Circassia, where
I have been to make a vow to the Holy Immaculate. On our
way home this accident has happened to us; and if you gentle-
men had not been so polite, we should have been obliged to
stay here all night."

The princess would have continued talking; but in the
distance were seen the carriages of the ambassador approach-
ing, accompanied by Skshetuski^s soldiers.

"Then you are the widow of Prince Vasil Kurtsevich?"
asked the lieutenant.

42 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"No," said the princess sharj)ly, and even angrily. "I am
the widow of Constantine, and this is Vasil's daughter,
Helena," she said, pointing to the young lady.

"We hear a great deal about Prince Vasil in Lubni. He
was a brave soldier and the intimate and confidant of the de-
parted Prince Michael."

"I have never been in Lubni," said Pani Kurtsevich
pointedly, "and as to his valor I know nothing; as to his
later conduct, that hardly bears remembering, as everyone
knows about it."

At these words, Helena's head sank on her breast like a
broken flower, and the lieutenant answered sharply:

"You should not say that. On account of a frightful
error in human justice, which sentenced him to forfeit his
life and property. Prince Vasil was obliged to save himself
by flight; but later on his innocence was established, and he
was reinstated in public opinion as a man of honor; and all
the more honor is due him in proportion to the injustice that
was done him."

The princess looked keenly at the lieutenant; and upon her
unpleasant coarse features, anger was plainly visible, but
Skshetuski, although a young man, had so much knightly
dignity and self-possession that Sfhe dared not answer him.
She turned instead to her neice Helena.

"It is not right that you should' hear this. Come here,
and see that the baggage is put into the carriage, in which
through the pirmission of these gentlemen, we are to con-
tinue our journey."

"Permit me to assist you, young lady," said the lieutenant.

They walked together to the carriage, but no sooner did
they stand opposite to each other on either side of the door
than the silken lashes of the young princess were raised and
her glance fell upon that of the lieutenant like a bright
warm sun ray.

"How can I thank you," she said with a voice which seemed
like the sweetest music to Skshetuski, like the tones of a lute,
or of a flute. "How can I thank you for having stood up
for my father's honor — for condemning the injustice that
was done him by his nearest relatives."

"Fair lady," answered the lieutenant, who felt his heart
melting like snow in spring, "God forgive me if for such
thanks I would not go through fire or even spill my blood.
But where the pleasure in doing is so great, the merit is

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 43

small, and for such a trifle it does not become me to accept
the payment of thanks from your mouth/^

"If you value them lightly I cannot, as a poor orphan,
show my gratitude in any other way/'

"1 do not undervalue them, but I would wish to deserve
such a great favor by a long, faithful, knightly service; and
I beg only that you will grant me such a service/'

At these words, the young princess blushed like a crim-
son rose, and appeared embarrassed, but she suddenly paled,
and placing her hands before her face, said in a tearful voice:

''This service would bring you only misfortune/'

The lieutenant leaned across the door of the carriage, and
said softly and tenderiy:

"Let it bring what God will; I would still fall at your feet,
and pray for it!"

"It is not possible, knight, that you who have only just
seen me, should wish joyfully to undertake this service/'

"I had scarcely beheld you when I seemed to forget my
own existence completely; and I felt that a hitherto free
soldier would now be forced to become a slave; but it seems
to be the will of God. Love is like the arrow that unex-
pectedly strikes the breast; and I, too, feel its power, although
I would not have believed it yesterday had any one fore-
told it/'

"If you would not believe it yesterday, how can you be-
lieve it to-day?"

"Time will prove it better than 1 can, and you can judge
of my sincerity at this moment not only by my words, but
by my face/'

The silken lashes were again raised and the princess's
eyes met the manly noble features of the young soldier; and
such an enraptured expression was in his eyes that a deep
blush overspread her face; but her gaze did not falter and
he drank in all the sweetness of those wonderful eyes. As
though they had just met on the highway of the steppes,
they looked at one another like two beings in whom love had
simultaneously awakened; two beings that were made for
each other and whose souls flew to meet one another like
doves.

The shrill voice of the Princess Constantine calling the
girl, put an end to this moment of rapture. The carriages
had arrived, the servants began to transfer the baggage, and
it was not long before all was in readiness.

44 ^iTH FIRE AND SWORD.

His Excellency, Pan Rozvan-Ursu, as a courteous Boyar,
had given up his own carriage to the ladies, the lieutenant
mounted his horse, and all continued the journey.

Day was already dying. The waters of the Kahamlik lis-
tened in the golden light — from the setting sun and the
purple twilight. Light clouds, changing gradually to crim-
son, pile' themselves high in the sky, lingered there awhile
as though weary of wandering and as if they were sleeping
in some strange cradle. Skshetuski rode alongside the
young princess in silence; for he felt as if he could not" con-
tinue their recent talk before strangers; and mere empty
words were impossible to him now. In his heart was rapture;
but his head buzzed as if from wine.

The whole caravan moved briskly along. The silence was
broken only by the snorting of the horses, or by the clank
of the stirrups. In the rear the soldiers struck up a Wal-
lachian strain, but they did not keep it up; and then Lon-
gin sang through his nose a pious chant:

" From Heaven I have commanded
That everlasting light may shine ;
Also in thickest clouds of night,
Have I the world enwrapped."

The night had fallen. The stars twinkled in the heavens;
and above the damp meadows a white mist rose like a bound-
less sea.

They had come to the forest, but had scarcely ridden a
few furlongs when the sound of horses' hoofs was heard
approaching, and five horsemen appeared before the caravan.
They were the young princes who had been informed by the
coachman of the accident that had happened to their mother,
and were hastening to meet her with a carriage and four
horses.

"Is it vou, my little sons?'* cried the old princess,

The horsemen rode up beside the carriage.

"We, mother!"

"Remain there! Thanks to these gentlemen, I am no
longer in need of assistance. Let me present my sons to
your Excellency — Simeon, Yur, Andrejey, and Nikolay — and
who is the fifth," she exclaimed, looking more closely. "Why!
if my old eyes do not deceive me, it is Bohun. Eh!"

The young princess suddenly leaned back into the depths
of the carriage.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 45

"At your service, Princess; and yours, Panna Helena," said
the fifth horseman.

"Bohun," said the elder lady, "have you just come from
your regiment, you hawk, and with your theorbo? Welcome!
welcome! — Well, little sons, I have already invited these
gentlemen to stay over night at Rosloga, and now do your
share of courtesy. When guests are in the house God is in
the house. You are very welcome to our house, gentlemen!"

The Bulyhovs took off their hats saying:

"We humbly invite you, sirs, to ur modest home."

"They have already promised me; his Excellency, the am-
bassador, and the lieutenant; we shall entertain noble
knights, but I do not know if the gentlemen who are accus-
tomed to court life will be able to enjoy our simple fare."

'*We are accustomed to soldier's fare, not to courtly dishes,"
said Skshetuski.

And Pan Rozvan-Ursu added:

"And I have enjoyed hospitality in the country-houses of
the nobility; and I know that often the court dishes could
not be compared with them."

The carriages proceeded on their journey and the old prin-
cess continued:

"Our best days have long since passed. In Volhynia and
Lithuania there are Kurtseviches who keep up state and live
like gentlemen; but they will have nothing to do with their
poor relations. May God punish them for it. With us you
will 'find Cossack poverty that you will be graciously pleased
to excuse, and must accept our hospitality, as it is offered,
with good heart. My five sons and myself own a little ham-
let and a few farms, and this young lady is under our care."

These words astonished the lieutenant, for he had heard
in Lubni that Rosloga was a magnificent property, and
besides that that it had belonged to Prince Vasil, Princess
Helena's father. However, it did not seem just the thing
to ask how it had come into the hands of Constantine and
his widow.

"You say you have five sons," said Pan Rozvan.

"I had five, like young lions — " answered the princess;
*T)ut the eyes of the eldest were burned out with torches by
the heathens in Byalogrod. He lost his mind in conse-
quence. When my other sons go to war I stay at home alone
with him and my niece here, who gives me more trouble
than pleasure."

46 WITH FIRE .-ND SWORD.

The contemptuous manner in which the old princess spoke
of her niece was so evident tliat it did not escape the watch-
fulness of the lieutenant. His anger rose, and he was on
the verge of uttering an ugly oath; but the words died on
his lips as he looked at the young princess, and saw by the
moonlight, that her eyes were wet with tears.

"What is the matter? Why do you cry?" he asked softly.

The young princess was silent.

"I cannot see you shed tears,'' said Skshetuski, bending
towards her; and as he saw that the old princess was in
conversation with the Pan Rozvan, and had her head turned
away, he added: "For God's sake, speak even one word. God
is my witness that I would sacrifice blood and health to
comfori: you."

Suddenly he felt that one of the horsemen had come up
so close to him that the flanks of their horses touched.

Conversation with the young lady w-as interrupted. Skshe-
tuski turned his head in surprise and in anger toward the
audacious intruder.

In the moonlight he saw two eyes staring at him boldly,
defiantly, and scornfully. The dreadful eyes gleamed like
those of a wolf in a dark forest.

"What the devil is it?" thought the lieutenant. "A demon,
or what?" and then he asked, looking at those fiery eyes:

"Why dost thou jostle me so? Why dost thou fasten
thine eyes on me?"

The horseman answered nothing, but continued to stare
fiexdly and boldly.

"Jf it is too dark for thee to see, I will strike a light; and
if the highway is too narrow, then be off into the steppes,"
said the lieutenant, in a louder tone.

"And thou, knave, see that thou comest away from that
carriage before we are out of the steppes!" answered the
horseman.

The lieutenant who was a man of action, instead of reply-
ing, gave his opponent's horse such a dig in the ribs with
his foot that the poor creature groaned, and with one bound,
landed on the extreme edge of the highway.

His rider pulled him up suddenly; and for an instant it
looked as if he were going to attack the lieutenant; but all
at once, the shrill, commanding tone of the old princess
called out: •

"Bohun, what is the matter with you?"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 47

These words had a magic effect. The horseman turned his
horse's head and, crossing to the other side of the carriage,
rode beside the old lady who proceeded.

"What ails you, eh? Mind, you are not in Pereyaslav, nor
in Crimea; but in Rozloga. Remember that, and now ride
ahead and guide the carriages, for we are coming to the ravine
and it is dark there. Hurry Siromakh!''

Skshetuski was as much surprised as annoyed. This Bohun
evidently sought an opportunity to insult him, but what rea-
son had he to do so? Why this unexpected attack? Then it
suddenly occurred to him that the Princess Helena was the
cause of the contention; and this idea was confirmed when he
looked in her face and noticed, in spite of the darkness, that
it was colorless, and that her features expressed dismay.

Meanwhile Bohun had ridden quite a distance ahead as the
princess had commanded him. Now she looked after him,
and speaking half to herself and half to the lieutenant, said:

"That is a mad fellow, a perfect devil of a Cossack."

"He does not seem to be quite right in the head," said
Skshetuski, disdainfully. "Is he a Cossack in your sons' ser-
vice?" The old Princess threw herself back in her carriage.

"Wliat do you say? That is Lieutenant-Colonel Bohun, the
celebrated knight, and friend of my sons, and to me a sixth
son. It cannot be possible that you have not heard his name.
He is known far and wide."

In truth Skshetuski knew his name well. Among the
names of the various Cossack C^olonels and atamans, that of
Bohun was on every lip, on both sides of the Dnieper. Blind
beggars sang songs about Bohun at all the fairs and in the
wine shops. Whence he came and who he wap, no one knew.
One thing was certain, — ^the steppes were his cradle; and the
Dnieper, the Perogen and the ('hertomelik with its labyrinth
of sharp bends, with its bays, rocks, islands, ravines, and reedy
marshes, were his playground. From infancy he had grown
up in the most intimate agsociation and brotherhood with this
wild world.

In times of peace, he went with the rest fishing and hunt-
ing, glided in and out among the bends of the Dnieper; waded
through marsh and reeds along with crowds of half-naked
companions, or spent whole months in the depths of the for-
est. His schools were raids to the Wild Lands, among the
Tartar herds of cattle and horses, .setting traps, fighting, ex-
peditions among the nomadic tribes on the coast; expeditions

^8 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

to Byalogrod, Wallachia, or else by boat to the Black Sea.
He kifew no days but on horseback, no nights but by the
watch-fires on the steppes. From childhood he was the idol
of all Nij; he early became a leader, and it was not long before
he surpassed all in daring. He was ready to ride to Bakhch
Serai with a hundred men, and to make a conflagration under
the very eyes of the Khan. He laid camps and villages in
ashes, slaughtered the inhabitants, and ordered the Murzas
to be torn asunder by horses. He raged like a hurricane and
ravaged like death; on the water he fell like a madman on
the Turkish galleys; he ventured into the deepest depths of
the forest; he crept as they used to say, into the jaws of the
lion. Many of the expeditions that he undertook were sheer
folly. Others less bold, less venturesome, had found their
death by being impaled in Stambul, or perished ?.t the oars
of Turkish galleys. He always came back safe and with rich
booty. It was said, that he had enormous treasure<i and had
hidden them in secret places on the Dnieper, But at times
he was seen stamping with muddy boots on gold embroidered
draperies, placing cushions under his horse's hoofs; or clothed
in damask soiling himself with tar, on purpose to show his
Cossack disdain for gorgeous clothing and furniture. He
abided long in no one place; his acts were governed by his
moods. At times when he was in Chigrin, Cherkass, or
Pereyaslav, he would riot with the other Zaporojians; at
others he w-ould live like a mink, spoke to no one and fled
into the steppes. At times he surrounded himself with blind
wandering minstrels whose music and songs he listened to all
day long and whom he loaded with gold. With the nobility
he could be a courtly knight, with the Cossacks, the wildest
of Cossacks, among knights, a knight, among robbers, a
robber. Many thought him crazy for he had an unbridled,
wild spirit. Why he lived in the world, what he wanted,
what he was striving for, whom he served, — ^he knew not him-
self. He served the steppes, the tempests, war, love, and his
own fancy. It was this temperament, which distinguished
him from other boors and assassins and from the ordinary
herd of robbers who had only plunder as their object and who
cared not whether they plundered Tartars or their owa
brothers. Bohun indulged in plunder, but war was dearer to
him than booty. He loved danger for its own sake; he paid
for songs with gold; he sought fame; and was careless about
the rest. Of all leaders he best personified Cossack knight-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^g

hood and so songs chose him for their darhng and his name
was famous throughout the Ukraine. Lately he had become
lieutenant-colonel of the Pereyaslav regiment, but he now
exercised the authority of colonel, for the old Loboda held his
baton with a feeble hand.

Skshetuski knew well therefore, who Bohun was, and when
he asked the old princess, if he was a Cossack in the service
of her sons, he did so with intentional contempt, for he saw
in him an enemy, and in spite of the fame of this robber
leader, the blood of the lieutenant boiled at the thought that
a Cossack should dare to pick a quarrel with him so boldly.
He judged also that as it had already begun it would not soon
come to an end, but Skshetuski was a man tough as steel,
full of confidence in himself, a man who gave way to nothing
or to no one, who sought danger almost eagerly. He would
have preferred to have pursued Bohun at once, but he con-
tinued to ride beside the princess. Moreover the carriages
had already passed the ravine, and in the distance could be
seen the lights of Bozloga.

CHAPTER IV.

The family of Kurtsevich-Bulyhov was of an old princely
stock which bore the coat-of-arms of Kureli; it claimed to
come from Koryat, but it was said that it really originated in
Ruryk. Of the two principal lines of descent one belonged in
Lithuania, the other in Volhynia. Prince Vasil of the nu-
merous descendants of the Volhynian line, had settled in the
country beyond the Dnieper. Because he was poor and did
not wish to remain in the neighborhood of his rich relations,
he enlisted in the service of Prince Michael Vishnyovyetski,
the father of the celebrated Yeremy.

He had covered himself with glory and had done the Prince
knightly service. As a reward he was given Red (Krasne)-
Rozloga, which later on account of the enormous number of
wolves who congregated there, was called WolPs-Rozloga, and
here he settled permanently. In the year 1629 he entered the
Romish church, and married Panna Rahozia, the daughter of
a noble house that took its origin in Wallachia. From this
imion a year later a daughter, Helena, was born to the young
couple, but the mother died at her birth. Prince Vasil gave
no thought to a second marriage, but devoted himself en-
tirely to cultivating his land and to the education of his only
daughter. He was a man of a noble character and unusual
virtue. Having accumulated in a short time a moderate for-
tune, he thought of his elder brother, Constantine, who had
remained behind in Volhynia in poverty, forsaken by his
rich relations and obliged to go into service on various estates.
He invited him to Rozloga with his wife and his five sons and
shared with them all he had. The two Kurtseviches lived in
peace until the end of the year 1634, when Vasil went to
Smolensk with King Vladislav. There occurred the mis-
fortune that preceded his ruin. In the King's camp a letter
was intercepted which had been written to Shehin. It was
signed with the name of the prince and sealed with the coat
of arms of Kurch. Such evident proof of treachery on the
part of the knight who had hitherto enjoyed an untainted

50

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 51

reputation struck every one with astonishment and horror.
In vain did Vasil call God to witness that neither the letter
nor the signature of the letter was his, — the coat of arms on
the seal banished every doubt, and no one would believe in
the loss of his seal by which the prince sought to clear him-
self, and so the unfortunate prince who was attainted for the
crime of pro crimine perduelionis was forced to save himself
by flight. He arrived by night at Eozloga, made his brother
Constantine swear by all the saints that he would take care
of his daughter as her own father — and disappeared forever.
It was said, he had once written a letter to Prince Yeremy
from Bar with the request that he would not deprive his
daughter Helena of the last morsel of bread, and would allow
her to remain quietly in Rozloga in the care of Constantine —
then he completely vanished. Reports were spread imme-
diately that he had died; it was also said that he had gone over
to the emperor and had fallen in war in Germany; but who
could tell for certain anything about him? He must have
perished for no further inquiries came from him about his
daughter. All mention of him ceased and he was only re-
membered once more when his innocence was established. A
certain Kuptsevich from Vitebsk confessed on his dying bed
that he had written the letter to Shehin and had sealed it
with the seal that he had found in the camp. At this testi-
mony all hearts were filled with sorrow and regret. The sen-
tence was annulled, the name of Prince Vasil was reinstated
with honor, but for him, consolation for his wrongs came too
late. As far as Rozloga was concerned it had never occurred
to Prince Yeremy to take it from him, for the Vishnyovyet-
skis who knew Vasil better than most people had never been
quite convinced of his guilt. He might even have remained,
and under their mighty protection, might have mocked at
the sentence. When he went away it was simply because he
could not endure the disgrace.

Thus Helena had grown up peacefully at Rozloga under
the sheltering care of her uncle. It was not until his death
that life became hard for her. Constantine's wife, who had
come from a family of doubtful origin, was a rough, pas-
sionate, energetic woman, whom her husband alone had been
able to restrain. After his death, she had taken the manage-
ment of Rozloga into her iron hands. The servants trembled
before her; the household avoided her like fire, and she even
made her presence unpleasantly felt in the neighborhood. In

52 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

the third year of her rule, twice did she invade the Sivinsks
at Brovark with warlike intent; she herself dressed in man's
clothing, and led her servants and Cossacks on horseback.
Once after one of Prince Yeremy's regiments had scattered
a band of Tartars who had been committing depredations in
Siedm Mogil, the princess at the head of her people cut down
to the last man all that remained after they had fled to Roz-
loga. She had planted herself in Rozloga for good and
began to regard it as her own and her sons' property. She
loved her sons as the wolf loves her young, but as she herself
was boorish it did not occur to her to give them a decent
bringing up. A monk of the Greek church whom she had
brought from Kiev taught them to read and write — ^that was
all their instruction; and yet Lubni was close by, and the
court of the prince, at which the young princes might have
learned courtly manners, have obtained experience in gov-
ernment affairs; have undertaken some kind of business, or
if they wished to go into military service, might have acquired
military knowledge. The old princess, however, had her
reasons for not going to Lubni.

How easy it would be for Prince Yeremy to remember to
whom Rozloga really belonged, how easily might he inquire
into her guardianship of Helena, or even, in memory of Vasil,
undertake the guardianship himself! In that case she would
have been obliged to leave Rozloga. She preferred therefore
that everyone in Lubni should forget her, and that there were
Kurtsevichis in the world; so for this reason the young
princes were brought up like half savages and more like Cos-
sacks than noblemen. When they were still lads they took
part in the disputes of the old princess in the warlike excur-
sions against the Sivinskis and the Tartar hordes. They
themselves had a natural dislike to books and writing, and
would rather shoot the whole day with their bows, or prac-
tice exercising with spears or swords, or in casting with slings.
They took not the slightest interest in the management of
the lands, for the mother would not let it go out of her own
hands. It was really sad to see these descendants of a re-
nowned race, in whose veins ran princely blood, but whose
manners were rough and indelicate, and whose tastes and
hard hearts recalled the wild steppes. They grew up mean-
while like young oaks, but as they themselves knew that they
were uncultivated men, they were ashamed to mix with the
nobility; and thus, they preferred the comradeship of the

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 53

wild Cossack bands. They early came into relations with Nij,
where they were looked upon as comrades; sometimes they
spent a whole six months in Sich; they went on ^'business"
with the Cossacks, took part in their expeditions against the
Turks and the Tartars, and these finally became their prin-
cipal and favorite occupations. The mother was not dis-
pleased with this for they often brought home rich booty.
On one of these expeditions the eldest, Vasil, fell into the
hands of the Infidels; his brothers freed him with the as-
sistance of Bohun and his Zaporojians, but not before his
eyes had been put out. From that time on, he was obliged to
sit at home, and though he had formerly been the wildest of
all, he was now very gentle, and became absorbed in religious
meditation and reflection. The younger sons carried on their
warlike enterprises until they finally received the nickname
of the Cossack Princes. Indeed it was only necessary to cast
a glance at Rozloga Siromakh in order to guess what kind
of people occupied it. As the ambassadoi and Skshetuski
passed through the gates they did not eee a gentleman's castle,
but a roomy barrack constructed of enormous beams of oak
with narrow windows like loopholes. The servants' quarters
and those of the Cossacks, the stables, the granaries, and the
store-houses joined on to the dwelling-house and formed an
irregular building consisting of higher and lower portions,
outwardly so mean and poor-looking that if one had not per-
ceived light through the windows, one would hardly have
believed it to be a human habitation. In the court yard be-
fore the house were two wells with cranes, and the gate-post
had a ring at the top of it to which was chained a tame bear.
A massive gate also made of oak-beams, formed the entrance
to the court yard, which was entirely surrounded by a moat
and palisade.

It was evidently a fortified place, protected against incur-
sions and attacks. It reminded one in all particulars of the
border forts of the Cossacks, and although the greater num-
ber of the mansions of the nobility in the border-lands had
very much the same outward appearance, one felt here, more
than elsewhere, that this was a robber's den. The servants
who came to meet the guests with lighted torches looked
more like robbers than domestic servants. The husre dogs in
the yard dragged at their chains as if they would break loose
and jump on the newcomers. The sound of neighing horses
was heard from the stable. The young Bulyhovs in concert

54

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

with their mother, began to scold the servants, to give orders,
and to swear. In the midst of this confusion the guests
stepped into the house. Rozvan-Ursu who had already seen
the savagery and the miserable condition of the houses felt
almost regret to think that he had consented to stay over
night at this place. But he was fairly dazed at the sight that
met his eyes. The interior of the house did not fulfil the
promise of the miserable outward appearance. One stepped
first into a roomy vestibule, whose walls were almost entirely
covered with shields and skins of wild animals.

In two enormous fireplaces, huge logs of wood were burn-
ing, and by their bright light one saw rows of shining armor,
Turkish shields in which here and there were precious stones,
shirts df chain-armor with gold buttons at the fastenings,
cuirasses, breast-plates, gorgets, steel-armor of great value,
Polish and Turkish helmets, and visors overlaid with silver.
On the opposite wall hung shields of a kind no longer used;
beside them Polish lances and oriental spears; broadswords
innumerable, from simple swords to scimitars and yatagans
which, with their gay colored hilts sparkled in the firelight
like stars. In the comers hung rolls of fox, wolf, bear, mar-
ten, and ermine skins, the prizes of the chase of the young
princes. Lower down along the wall slept in their hoops
hawks, falcons, and huge vultures, which brought from the
farther eastern steppes, were used in wolf-hunting.

From this room the guests went into a large hall; here also
a bright fire burned on the hearth, above which was a mantel-
piece. In this room still greater magnificence was displayed
than in the vestibule. The bare wood of the walls was hung
with Turkish draperies; upon the floor were spread valuable
Oriental rugs. In the middle of the room stood a long table
on crossed legs. This was made of rough planks, but upon
it stood cups entirely gilt, and of Venetian cut glass. Along-
side the walls were smaller tables, chests of drawers and clos-
ets, and upon these stood chests and cases packed full of
bronzes, brass candlesticks, and clocks, which in their time,
the Turks had stolen from the Venetians, and the Cossacks
again from the Turks. The whole room was packed with a
quantity of beautiful objects that, as far as one could see,
could be but little appreciated by the hostess. Everywhere
this luxury was mingled with the greatest simplicity such as
belongs to the steppes. The costly Turkish cabinets, ebony,
and mother-of-pearl stood beside rough, unpolished cup-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^

boards; simple wooden chairs were placed beside luxurious
sofas covered with rugs. The cushions which, in Oriental
fashion^ lay upon the sofas, were covered v/ith gold embroid-
ery, and silk, but were seldom tilled with feathers, but more
frequently with hay or pea-shucks. The costly draperies and
the gorgeous articles constituted so-called "Turkish and Tar-
tar goods" which had been bought in part from the Cossacks,
in many wars in the time of old Prince Vasil, and in part
had been brought home as booty from the expeditions against
the Nijovs, by the young Bulyhovs, who preferred to make
expedition to the Black Sea in boats, to bringing a wife home
or looking after the affairs of the estate.

All this did not surprise Skshetuski. He knew the homes
in the border lands; but the Wallachian Boyar was surprised
to see that in the midst of all this splendor the Kurtsevichis
walked about in calf-skin boots and in sheep-skin coats that
were not much better than those worn by the servants. But
Longin Podbipyenta who had been accustomed to other kinds
of establishments in Lithuania was also surprised.

The young princes meanwhile, received the guests kindly,
and with the greatest empressment, but they did it in such
a clumsy manner, owing to their want of polish, that the
lieutenant could hardly keep from laughing.

The eldest, Simeon, said:

"Be welcome! We thank you for your kindness. Look
npon our house as your home. Make yourselves at home.
We greet you humbly on our threshold of the Nij."

And although in the tones of his voice, no humility was
expressed, or even a pretence of it as though he were receiv-
ing superiors, yet he bowed himself Cossack-fashion to the
girdle, and his younger brothers followed his example believ-
ing that hospitality demanded it, and said:

"At your service, worthy sirs, at your service."

Meanwhile the princess had pulled Bohun by the sleeve
and led him out of the room.

"Listen, Bohun," she said hastily, "I have not long to talk
to yen; I saw that you showed your teeth at that young
nobleman and are seeking a quarrel with him."

"Mother," answered the Cossack, kissing the old lady's
hand, "the world is wide, let him go his way, I will go mine.
I never knew him, never heard him before, but let him keep
away from the princess, or, as true as I live, I will flash my
sword in his eyes."

-5 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"Why you are crazy, crazy! Where is your head, little
Cossack? What is the matter with you? Do you want to
ruin us and yourself? He is one of Vishnyovyetski's soldiers,
a lieutenant, a man of standing, for he was sent by the prince
as an ambassador to the Khan. If a hair of his head is in-
jured under our roof, do you know what will happen? The
Voyevoda will then turn his eyes upon Rozloga, will avenge
him, will hunt us all to the four winds, and will take Helena
to Lubni — ^and what then? Do you want to have a quarrel
with him too? Do you want to attack Lubni? Try it, if you
wish to be impaled, little spoilt Cossack! .... If the noble-
man likes the girl or not, he will depart as he has come, and
that is the end of it. Calm yourself and, if you will not do so,
see to it that you get out of here to whence you came or you
will bring misfortune upon us!"

The Cossack bit his moustache and groaned; but he under-
stood that the princess was right.

"They are going away to-morrow, mother," he said, "and
I will calm myself, but do not let my black-eyed girl talk to
him."

"What's the matter with you? Do you want them to think
that I'm keeping her a prisoner? She will entertain them, I
wish it. You can not rule here in the house, you are not the
master!"

"Do not be angry, princess; if it cannot be otherwise, I
will show them a face as sweet as Turkish dainties. I will
gnash my teeth, but I will not grasp my sword even if I should
be torn with anger, and if my soul should dissolve with a
thousand sighs, let your will be done."

"That's right, well said, falcon. Take your theorbo, play,
sing, and you will feel better in your mind, and now go to
the guests."

They returned to the reception room where the young
princes, not knowing how to entertain their guests, were con-
tinually biddinr^ them welcome and bending low before them.
As they approached Skshetuski looked sternly and proudly
into Bohun's eyes, but he foimd in them no provocation nor
challenge. The face of the young Cossack chief beamed with
polite gayety, and he dissimulated so well that the most prac-
ticed eye might have been deceived. The lieutenant looked
at him sharply for in the darkness he had not been able to
distinguish his features. Now he saw a straight figure, slender
as a poplar, with mobile features, a luxuriant black moustache

'WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 57

that hong down in two ends; gayety shone on his face through
the Ukrainian melancholy like the sun through a mist. Upon
his high forehead fell a shock of bl&ck hair^ like a little mane,
several strands of which were plaited and hung down like a
row of teeth over the strong eyebrows. The aquiline nose, the
broad nostrils and the white teeth which showed at every
smile, gave his face something the expression of a bird of
prey; but taken altogether he was a type of the dashing, de-
fiant beauty of the Ukraine. His gorgeous attire especially,
distinguished this horseman of the steppes from the princes
who were clad in skins. Bohim wore a silver-brocaded coat
and a red waist-coat. That was the color which all the Cos-
sacks of Pereyaslav wore. Around his waist was a crape
girdle from which a richly mounted sword hung by silver
cords. But the sword itself as well as his apparel were
eclipsed by the richness of the Turkish scimitar which he
wore at his girdle, the handle of which was so thickly set
with gems that it fairly sparkled. In this costume he could
easily have been mistaken for a lord of high birth, not for a
Cossack, and the more so as his easy and courtly manners gave
no hint of his low origin. He stepped up to Longin, list-
ened to his story of his ancestor, and of the killing of the
three crusaders. Then he turned to the lieutenant and, as if
nothing had happened between them, asked with perfect free-
dom:

^TTouVe returned from the Crimea, I hear?"

**From the Crimea!" answered the lieutenant dryly.

"I have also been there, and if I did not get as far as
Bakch-Serai, I hope to go there some day, if those joyful
reports are true."

"What reports do you mean?"

"They say, that if our gracious King should begin war
with the Turks, Vishnyovyetski will devastate the Crimea
with fire and sword, and these reports have spread great joy
over the whole Ukraine and Nij, for unless we fight in Bakhch
Serai under such a leader, we shall fight under no one."

"Oh, we will revel as true of God is in Heaven," answered
the Kurtsevich.

The lieutenant was astonished at the respect with which
the Cossack spoke of the prince. He smiled therefore and
said in a somewhat gentler tone:

*T see that the expeditions against the Nijovs that have
covered you with fame, still do not satisfy you."

58 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"A little war, little fame, great war, great fame. Konas-
chevitz did not kill Sohaydatz on the boats but at Khotsim."

At that moment the door opened and Vasil, the eldest Kurt-
sevich walked slowly into the room, Helena leading him by
the hand. He was a man of middle age, pale and thin, with a
sad, ascetic expression that reminded one of the pictures of
Byzantine saints. His long hair which from sorrow and suf-
fering had grown gray, fell down upon his shoulders and, in
place of eyes, were two red hollows. In his hand he held a
brass crucifix with which he blessed the room and all present.

"In the name of God, the Father, in the name of the Re-
deemer, and of the Holy Virgin," said he, "if you are apostles
and bring good news, welcome to this Christian threshold,
Amen!''

"Pardon him, worthy sirs," murmured the young princes,
*1ie has lost his mind."

Vasil, however, continued his blessing and said:

"As it is written in the Acts of the Apostles, *those who
shed their blood for the faith will be saved, but those who
seek for earthly possesssions, for prizes or booty, shall be
damned.' Let us pray!'' "Woe unto you brothers, woe unto
me, for we have made war for the sake of spoil, God be mer-
ciful to us, poor sinners, God be merciful — ^and you men
come here from afar, what news do you bring? Are you
aspostles ?"

He was silent and appeared to wait an answer. The lieu-
tenant answered, therefore, after a pause:

"We are very far removed from such a high position; we
are only soldiers, and are ready to die for the faith."

"Then you will be saved,'' answered the blind man, "but
for us the hour of redemption is not yet at hand. Woe unto
you, brothers, woe unto me!"

The last words he spoke almost groaning, and upon hi?
face was pictured such boundless despair that the guests did
not know what to do. Helena had meanwhile seated him
on a chair, and she herrself hastened into the hall and re-
turned in a few minutes with a lute in her hand. Soft tones
filled the air and to the sound of the lute, the maiden sang
a hymn.

To thee, O, Lord, in heaven^ height,
I raise my prayer by day and dignt,
O pity take, Have mercy on a sinner's woe,
And dry mine eyes, tho' salt tears flow !

The blind man leaned his head back and listened to the

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, ^g

words of the song which appeared to soothe him like a heal-
ing balm. Then by degrees the traces of sorrow and despair
disappeared from his features; finally his head sank upon his
breast and he remained thus, as if in a half sleep pr stupor.

"Do not interrupt the music, for that will quiet him en-
tirely,^' said the princess gently. "You see his mental pecu-
liarity consists in this; that he is always expecting the
apostles and as soon as anyone comes into the house, he goes
to meet them and asks them if they are not the apostles.''

Helena sang meanwhile:

" Gaide, O, Gracious God, my Path I
Like a Wanderer in the Wild.
Like a ship upon strange seas
I am lost and alone.*'

Her sweet voice became stronger and, with the lute in her
hand, her eyes raised to heaven, she was so enchantingly
beautiful that the lieutenant could not take his eyes off her.
He continued to gaze upon her and for some moments for-
got everything else.

He was aroused from his enchantment by the words of the
old princess.

"That will do! He won't wake soon; and now I invite the
gentlemen to supper."

"We invite you to bread and salt," said the young Buly-
hovs.

Pan Eosvan, as a polished cavalier, offered his arm to the
old princess. When Skshetuski saw this, he went to Panna
Helena. His heart became soft as wax, when he felt her
hand upon his arm and his eyes sparkled as he said:

''The angels in heaven do not sing more sweetly than you
do."

"Thou sinnest. 0 knight, comparing my voice to that of
the angels," answered Helena.

"I do not know if it is a sin, but I know I would willingly
let my eyes be put out if I could listen to thy singing until
my death. But what am I saying! If I were blind I could not
see thee, and that would be a torment unbearable.'^

"Oh, do not say that, Sir. To-morrow thou wilt go from
here and thou wilt forget me."

"Oh, that could not be, for I have learned to love thee so
well that in my whole life, I will never love anyone else; I
will never forget thee."

The cheeks of the young girl flushed scarlet; her breast

5o ^JTH FIRE AND SWORD.

heaved strongly; she wished to reply but her lips only trem-
bled.

Skshetuski therefore continued:

"You, thou wilt forget me beside that handsome Cossack
who will accompany thy song on the balabayka."

"Never, never,^' whispered the maiden, **but beware of
him, for he is a terrible man/'

"\VTiat do I care for one Cossack! If the whole of Sich
were at his back I would dare all for thee! To me thou art
a priceless jewel; thou art my world! Oh, if I only knew that
I were loved in return."

A soft "Yes!" sounded like the music of paradise in Skshe-
tuski's ears and it seemed to him as if ten hearts were beating
in his breast. Everything grew bright before his eyes as
if sunbeams had fallen upon the earth. He felt an unusual
strength as if wings had grown on him. During the supper,
Bohun's glance repeatedly sought him and his face was
changed and very pale. But the lieutenant, who possessed
Helena's love, did not trouble himself about his rival. "Let
him go to the devil," he thought to himself. "If he comes
across my path, I will crush him," and then his thoughts
turned to another direction.

He felt that Helena sat so near him that his arm almost
touched hers; he saw the blush that would not fade from
her face and which seemed to give forth heat; he saw her
breast heaving like ^^^aves and her eyes that were now cast
to the ground and shaded by the lashes; then again raised
and beaming like two stars. For Helena, although sup-
pressed by the princess, although living as an orphan, in
sorrow and care, was a Ukraine maiden with fiery blood in
her veins. As she now felt the first warm rays of love, she
bloomed out like a rose and awoke to a new, hitherto un-
known life. In her features shone happiness and courage
which struggled with maidenly modesty and painted upon
her cheeks those beautiful rosy colors. Skshetuski could
hardly contain himself for joy. He drank to excess, but
the mead could not hurt him for he was already intoxicated
with love. He no longer saw anyone at the table besides
his Love; he did not notice that Bohun was growing very
pale; that he clutched the handle of his scimitar more and
more convulsively; he did not hear how Ix)ngin, for the
third time, related the history of his ancestor, and how the
Kurtsevich told of their expeditions after Turkish property.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 6l

All of them except Bohun drank deeply and the chief ex-
ample was given by the old princess who raised her glass to
drink now to the health of her guests, now to the health of
the gracious prince, then to the health of Hospodar Lupnic.
They talked a good deal about the blind Vasil; of his knightly
deeds in the olden time; of his misfortunes and of his present
mental condition, which the eldest Simeon explained thus:
"Think of it, gentlemen, if the smallest splinter in your
eye would prevent you seeing, how much more would a con-
siderable piece of pitch getting into his brain make him
crazy."

"It is a very delicate organ," remarked Pan Longin.

Suddenly the old princess noticed Bohun's face.

"What ails you, falcon?"

"I have a pain at my heart, mother," he said gloomily,
''but the word of a Cossack is not spoken to the winds; I
will bear it."

"Bear it, my son! be enduring!"

The supper was over — -but they continued pouring fresh
mead into the cups. Some Cossack boys entered the rooms,
whom they had invited to dance in order to amuse the guests.
The sounds of balabaykas and of drums were heard and the
sleepy boys were obliged to dance. Then the young Buly-
hovs began to turn about. The old pijlncess placed her hands
akimbo and stepping upon the floor began to stamp and
posture and sing and when Skshetusky saw this, he ventured
a dance with Helena. As he placed his arm round her, he
felt as if he was clasping a portion of Heaven to his breast.
As they whirled round in the dance, her long braids flew
about his neck as if she would tie him to her forever. He
could not resist the temptation and, when he thought no
one was looking, he bent down and kissed her sweet mouth
with fervor.

Late at night, when he was alone with Longin in a room,
where they had prepared two beds, instead of going to sleep,
he sat upon t' e edge of his bed, and said:

"You will ride to Lubni with another man to-morrow."

Podbipyenta, who had just ended his paters, opened his
eyes wide, and asked:

"How is that? Are you going to stay here.^'

'*Not I, but my heart remains here and only the sweet
memory will go with me. You will see a great change in me;
for from longing I can hardly draw breath."

"So you have fallen in love with the young princess/^

62 WITH FIRE AND HWORD,

"So it is, as sure as I am alive here before you. Sleep
flees my eyelids, and I would like to sigh unceasingly and
to dissolve in steam entirely. I tell you this because you
have a sensitive and loving heart and so will understand my
torment.*'

Pan Longin began himself to sigh as a token that he un-
derstood the torments of love. After a while, he asked in a
plaintive tone.

"Perhaps you have made a vow of chastity?"

"Your question is not sensible, for if we all took such vows
the human race would die out."

The entrance of a servant interrupted the conversation.
He was an old Tartar with piercing black eyes and a face
that was as wrinkled as a dried apple. As he entered, he
cast a meaning look at Skshetuski and asked:

"Do the gentlemen need anything further? Perhaps a
glass of mead for a pillow!"

"We need nothing."

The Tartar approached Skshetuski and whispered:

"I have a word for you from the young lady."

"Then be my Pandar," cried the lieutenant joyfully. "You
may speak in the presence of this gentleman for 1 have con-
fided my secret to him."

The Tartar drew a piece of ribbon from his sleeve.

"The young lady sends the honored gentleman this scarf
and says that she loves him with her whole soul."

The lieutenant seized the scarf and began to kiss it in
his enchantment and to press it to his breast and, as he got
a little calmer, he asked:

"What did she tell you to say?"

"That she loves you, honored sir, with all her soul."

"Here, take this dollar as a present. She says then that
she loves me?"

"It is so!"

"Here is another dollar for you. May God bless her for
I love her best of all. Tell her — or wait — I will write to her
myself. Bring me ink, pen, and paper."

"What?" asked the Tartar.

"Ink, pen and paper."

"There isn't such a thing in the house. In the time of
Prince Vasil there was some — ^and then — ^when the young
princess learned to write from the monk, — ^but that is a
long time ago."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 6^

Skshetuski snapped his fingers. "Pan Podbipyenta, have
you not pen and ink?''

The Lithuanian shrugged his shoulders and looked up
into the f y.

"The devil," said Skshetuski, "then 1 am in a fix."

The Tartar had meanwhile crouched before the fire.

"What is the use of writing," he said, as he raked the
coals, "the young lady has gone to sleep and what your
Highness wishes to write to her you can say to-morrow."

"If that's so, it's another matter, you are, I see a faithful
servant to the young lady. There's a third dollar for you.
How long have you been in her service?"

"Alas, it is fourteen years since Count Vasil took me
prisoner. From that time I have served him faithfully, and
when he went away into banishment he left his child with
Constantine, but he said to me, 'Chekhly you will not leave
my girl, will you, but will take care of her as the eye in
your head.' La Allah ilia Allah!"

"And you have done so?"

"I have done it and will continue to do it."

"See here, how do matters appear to you; how is the
young lady treated here?"

"They do not treat her very well; they wish to give her
to Bohun, and he is an infernal hound."

"Nothing will come of it, someone will be found who will
take her away."

"Yes," said the old man, as he stirred the glowing ashes,
"they want to gfsve her to Bohun, but he may take and carry
her away as the wolf does the lamb and leave them in pos-
session of Roz'oga — for Rozloga belongs to her, not to them
— to the Prince Vasil. Bohun will also willingly do that,
for he has in his hiding-places more gold and silver than
there is sand in Rozloga. But she hates him since the day,
when, in her presence, he beat a man's brains out with his
pole axe. Blood fell between them and hatred grew out of
it. La Allah!"

The lieutenant could not close his eyes the whole night
long. He walked up and down the room, gazed at the
moon, and made several resolutions. Now he understood
the Bulyhov's game. If a nobleman from the vicinity should
marry the young princess he would demand Rozloga as her
fortune and would have a right to it for it belonged to her.
Perhaps he would demand an account of their guardianship.

64 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

That was why the Bulyhovs who had grown up entirely in
a Cossack country had resolved to give the girl to a Cossack.
When Skshetuski thought of this, he clenched his fist and
felt for the sword at his side. He determined also to crush
this intrigue and felt the power in him to do it. In the first
place Prince Yeremy ought to be the guardian of Helena
because Rozloga was a gift from the Vishnyovyetski to the
old Vasil and secondly because Vasil himself had written
from Bar to the Prince begging him to be her guardian.
Only the urgency of public business, of war, and great under-
takings had prevented the voyevoda from interesting himself
in the guardianship. But, it would be sufficient to remind
him by a word, in order that justice might be done. Dawn
was already gray when Pan Skshetuski threw himself upon
his bed. He slept soundly and awoke in the morning with a
firm resolve. They dressed themselves quickly, he and
Longin for the carriage was already waiting for them, and
Skshetuski's soldiers were already mounted and ready for
the march. In the reception room the ambassador in com-
pany with the old princess and her sons was strengthening
himself with a little soup, but Bohun was not there; no one
knew whether he still slept or had gone away.

After he had refreshed himself, Skshetuski said,

"Lady, time flies; we must soon mount our horses; before
we express our gratitude to you for your hospitality, there
is an important matter about which I would like to say a
word to you and to your sons in private.*'

In the features of the princess lively astonishment was
depicted; she looked first at her sons, then at the ambassador
and Pan Longin as if she would read from their faces what
it was all about and with a certain uneasiness in her voice,
she said:

"I am at your service. Sir.''

The ambassador wanted to retire, but she would not hear
of it. Instead of that, she led the way into the vestibule
with its hangings and armor. The young princes rose and
followed their mother and after them came Skshetuski. She
went up to him and asked:

"What do you wish to talk to me about?'*

The lieutenant fixed an almost stem look upon her and
said:

'Tardon me, gracious lady, and you, young princes, that,
contrary to custom and good manners, I have undertaken

WITB PIRE AKD SWORD. 65

to put this matter before you instead of intrusting it to a
confidential messenger^ but it oannot be done otherwise and,
as no one can fight against fate, I will set before you without
further delay my humble prayer that you as her guardians
will give me the Princess Helena as my wife."

If at this moment, in the middle of winter, a stroke of
lightning had struck the courtyard in Rozloga it would not
have produced such an efFect upon the princess and her son^
as these words of the lieutenant. For a time, they looked
in astonishment at the speaker who stood before them, erect
as a statue, calm and proud, as if he had no intention of
begging, but rather of commanding; but they could find no
words to reply. Instead the princess began to ask

"What! she— Helena?"

^^es, gracious Princess, and that is my unalterable inten-
tion."

A short silence followed.

"I am awaiting your answer, Princess."

"Pardon me, worthy sir," answered the princess, after she
had calmed down a little, but her voice was dry and harsh.
"It is no slight honor for us to receive this request from
such a cavalier, but nothing can come of it, for IVe already
promised Helena to another."

"Consider, gracious Princess, as a careful guardian, if that
is not against the wish of the young lady, and if I am not
better than he to whom you have promised her."

"Good sir, who is best, is for me to judge; you may be
the best; that makes no difference to us, we do not know
you."

The lieutenant stood more proudly erect and his glances
were like sharp knives and cold as steel,

"But I know you, you traitors," he thundered, "you want
to give a relation of yours to a peasant, only in order that
he may leave you in unlawful possession."

"You yourself are a traitor," cried the princess, "is that
how you thank us for our hospitality, is that the gratitude
that dwells in your heart. 0 viper, who are you, whence do
you come?"

The young Kurtseviches began to snap their fingers and
glance at the weapons on the walls.

The lieutenant, however cried out,

'Ton heathens, you have stolen the property of an orphan,
but it will bring you no blessing; only one day more and the
prince will hear of it."
4

66 WtfB Pins AKD SWORD.

At these words, the princess darted into the back of the
room, seized a javelin and made for the lieutenant. The
young princes also seized whatever they could lay hold of,
one a aword, another a spear, or knife, surrounded the lieu-
tenant in a ficmicircle and sniffed like a pack of raging
wolves.

"You will go and tell the prince?" screamed the princess.
'"How do you know you will get away from here alive? How
do you know this is not your last hour?"

Skshetnski crossed his hands upon his breast and did not
move an eyelash.

"As the envoy of the prince, I am on my way back from
the Crimea. If one drop of my blood is spilt here, within
three days this house will be in ashes; and you will all rot
in the dungeons at Lubni. Is there a power in the world
that can protect you? Do not threaten for I do not fear
you!'^

"We shall perish, but you will perish first."

"Well, strike, here's my breast!"

The young princes with their mother at their head, held
their weapons pointed towards the lieutenant's breast, but it
seemed as if invisible chains held their hands in bonds,
lireathing heavily and grinding their teeth, they rose in im-
potent rage, but not one of them dared to strike. The
dreaded name of Vishnyovyetski had made them powerless.
The lieutenant was master of the situation.

The helpless anger of the princess exhausted herself in a
torrent of abuse.

"Braggart! miserable vagabond! good-for-nothing! princely
blood do you wish? nothing will come of it, we will give her
to any one, but not to you, and the prince himself cannot
oblige us to do so."

Skshetuski answered: "This is not the time for me to
prove my nobility to you, but I believe that your family
would be glad to bear sword and shield after me. Besides
if the peasant is good enough for you, I am better; as for
my property, it can well be compared with yours, and if
you say that you will not give Helena to me, hear what I
have to say. I would also let you remain in Rozloga and
would demand no account of your guardianship."

"Do not give away what is not yours."

"I am not giving anything, I am only giving my promise
for the future and confirm it with the word of a knight.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 67

Choose therefore; either you will give an account to the
prince and leave Rozloga, or you will give me the girl and
retain the property ..."

The javelin slowly slipped from the hands of the princess
and fell noisily to the ground.

"Choose," repeated Skshetuski, "either peace or war."

"It is lucky," said Princess Kurtsevich, already in a milder
tone, "that Bohun has ridden out with the falcon and does not
see you, for he suspected you already yesterday. If he were
here it would not end without bloodshed."

"And I do not carry my sword only that it may weigh down
my belt."

"Consider whether you think it polite for a cavalier who
has come into a house in friendship to overpower people like
this, and to carry oif a girl by force, exactly as if she were a
Turkish slave."

"I think it is very appropriate since she is to be sold
against her will to a peasant."

"Do not speak so of Bohun; for even though he does not
know his parentage he is still a famous warrior and a brave
knight, and we have known him from childhood and consider
him as one of our own blood. To rob him of the girl or to
stab him to death would be about the same thing to him."

"Gracious Princess, time presses; 1 must go on my journey.
Pardon me if I repeat once more: Make your choice."

The countess turned to her sons:

"What do you say, my sons, to the humble request of this
cavalier?

The Bulyhovs looked at one another and nudged each
other but were silent.

Finally Simeon growled:

'If you bid us fight, mother, we will fight; if you bid us
give him the girl, we will give her to him."

"To fight is bad and to give is bad."

She then turned to Skshetuski:

'*You have driven us so to the wall that we can hardly
breathe. Bohun is a mad fellow who dares anything. Who
will defend us from his vengeance? He himself will be
ruined through the prince, but before that occurs he will
destroy us. What shall we do?"

"That is for you to decide."

The princess was silent for a moment.

"Listen, worthy cavalier, absolute secrecy must be pre-

68 W/rff FIRE AND SWORD.

served. We will send Bohnn to Pereyaslav and we ourselves
will drive to Lubni with Helena. You will entreat the prince
to send a guard to Rozloga. Bohun has in the vicinity one
hundred and fifty men, some of whom are here. One could
not easily take Helena away, for he would try to get her
back alive or dead. It cannot be otherwise. Go therefore.
Betray our secret to no one and expect us.^'

"In order that you may betray me?"

"We would if that were only possible! But we cannot do
so as you see yourself. Give us your word that you will pre-
serve our secret till that time."

"I give my word — do you give me the girl?"

"We cannot do otherwise — even if Bohun should injure
us."

"Tut, tut! gentlemen," said the lieutenant buddenly, turn-
ing to the young princes, "here are four of you, like oaks,
and you fear one Oossack and want to destroy him through
treachery! Although I thank you, I must say that this is
not worthy of honorable noblemen."

"Do not mix yourself up in this affair," cried the princess.
"This is not your business. What shall we do? How many
soldiers have you to pit against one hundred and fifty men?
Would you protect Helena when he comes to take her away
by force? That is not your business. You go to Lubni, and
whatever we do, let us alone, if we only bring Helena to you."

"Do as you will, but one thing I must say, if any evil hap-
pens to the girl — then woe to you!"

"Do not talk thus and drive us to desperation."

"Yes, you did wish to use force and even now when you
are trying to sell her in exchange for Rozloga, it does not
occur to you to ask her if she is favorably disposed towards
my person."

"We will do so in your presence," said the old princess,
suppressing the anger which began to rise anew in her breast,
for she discerned perfectly the contempt that expressed itself
in the words of the lieutenant.

Simeon went to fetch Helena, and in a few moments ap'
peared with her in the hall.

Amid the ebullitions of rage and the threatenings which
appeared still to rumble in the air like the echo of a passing
storm; in the midst of those knitted brows, fierce looks, and
unfriendly faces, her beautiful countenance beamed like the
sun after a storm.

WITH FIRE Al^D SWOUD. 6g

'TToung lady!" said the princess sullenly, pointing to
Skshetuski, "if you have no objection there is your future
husband."

Helena grew pale as the wall. She screamed and covered
her eyes with her hands. Then she suddenly stretched out
her hands to Skshetuski and whispered rapturously:

'Is it true?"

An hour later the ambassador's train and that of the lieu-
tenant were slowly wending their way along the forest high-
way in the direction of Lubni. Skshetuski and Longin rode
at the head of the cavalcade. Behind them came the long
file of carriages belonging to the ambassador. The lieutenant
was absorbed in thought, when, suddenly, there came to his
ears snatches of the song:

** Alas ! Alas I how sore my heart."

In the depth of the forest, on a narrow footpath, Bohun
appeared. His horse was completely covered with dust and
mud. The Cossack had evidently, as was his custom been
wandering about on the steppes, and in the forest, in order
to breathe in the air, to forget the world and the sorrow that
gnawed at his heart — to numb his pain.

He was now just on his way to Rozloga.

When Skshetuski saw the splendid knightly figure, that
appeared and vanished, he could not help murmuring to
himself,

"What a fortunate thing it was that he clove a man's skull
in her presence."

Suddenly he had a feeling of compunction. It seemed to
him as if he felt sorry for Bohun, more particularly, because
he was bound by his word to the princess and could not im-
mediatel}' — on the spot — ride after him and say:

"We both love the same girl! One of us is superfluous in
the world. Unsheath Cossack, villain!"

CHAPTER V.

Skshetuski did not find the prince at home when he
reached LuLni. He had gone to attend a christening at the
house of one of his old retainers, Pan Suifchynski at Siench,
and with him went the princess, the two princesses Zbaraska,
and many people of the Court. Word was sent to Siench of
the return of the lieutenant from the Crimea, and also of the
arrival of the ambassador.

Meantime Skshetuski was received with joy by his friends
after his long journey, and especially by Volodiyovski who,
since his last duel with the lieutenant, had become his
warmest friend. This knight was distinguished for one pecu-
liarity; that he was always in love. After he had become
convinced of Anusia Borzobahata's faithlessness, he had
turned his sensitive heart over to Angelica Lenzka, also a
lady in waiting, and when she a month ago, married Stanish-
evski, Pan Michael began to comfort himself by paying at-
tentions to the elder Princess Zbaraska, Anna, the niece of
Prince Vishnyovyetski.

He knew very well that he lifted his eyes too high and
that he could not flatter himself with the smallelst hope,
especially as several suitors had pretended to the hand of the
princess; among them Bodzynski, and Lassota who, in the
name of Pan Pshiyemski and of the Voyevoda of Lench were
suing for her hand.

The unlucky Pan Michael related his new sorrow to the
lieutenant and initiated him into all the occurrences and
secrets of the court. Skshetuski, however, listened with di-
vided attention; for his mind and his heart were occupied
with other matters. H that restlessness of the soul which is
inseparable from love, even the happiest love, had not tor-
'tured him, Skshetuski would have felt happy after such a
long absence on returning to Lubni; for here he was sur-
rounded with friendly faces and the noises of military life
which was his favorite music. Now Lubni, although the
fortified residence of the prince might be compared favor-
70

WITH FIRE AyD SWORD. ji

ably as regards magnificence with any of tJie courts of the
petty kings. It was different from tiie others only in that
a strict military discipline, as in camp, was observed. Anyone
who did not understand the manners and regulations of the
place might imagine, even if he came here in time of peace,
that some kind of military expedition was in preparation.
The soldiers here took precedence of the courtiers, steel
above gold, the sound of the bugle above the sound of revels
and enjoyment. Everywhere perfect order reigned, and le-
raarkable discipline; ev^y where officers swarmed, belonging
to the different regiments: Cuirassiers, cavalry, heavy dra-
goons, Cossacks, Tartars, and Wallachs, among whom were
not only representatives of the entire country of the Dnieper,
but also volunteer recruits of the nobility from all parts of
the Commonwealth. Whoever wished to educate himself in
a truly knightly school, came to Lubni. Nobody was want-
ing there. Consequently, besides natives of Russia, there
were a number of Masurs, Lithuanians, natives of Little Po-
land, and even Prussians. The foot soldiers and the artillery,
the so-called "fiery people,'' consisted principally of picked
Germans who had enlisted for high pay. The dragoons were
principally natives. The Lithuanians had entered the Tar-
tar regiments; the Poles chose by preference to enlist in the
cuirassier regiments. The prince did not let the knighthood
remain idle, consequently there was constant stir in the
camp. Certain regiments went to relieve others at the posts
and border garrisons; others came to the capital; whole
days were taken up in mustering and drilling. At times,
even when the Tartars were quiet, the prince would under-
take distant military expeditions into the limitless steppes
and deserts, in order to accustom the soldiers to the march,
to go to places that had never yet been visited, and to carry
the fame of his name in all directions. The previous au-
tumn he had followed the left bank of the Dnieper as far
as Kudak where Pan Grodzitski, who was Governor, received
him like a sovereign; then he followed the Porog until he
came to Chortitza and there upon the meadows of Kushkas
he had caused to be erected an enormous pile of stones as a
memorial, and also as a token that, as yet, no lord had
travelled this road to such a distance.

Pan Boguslav Mashkievich, a p:ood, though young soldier,
and at the same time a man of learning, who described this
journey, as also other expeditions of the prince, told Skshe-

72 y^lTH FIRE AND SWORD.

tuski wonderful stories about it. Volodiyovski confirmed
everything lie said for he also had been on this expedition.
They also had seen the rapids and wondered at them; espe-
cially at the dreadful Nyenasytsov which yearly, like the
fabulous Scylla and Charybdis, swallowed up many human
victims. They had then turned towards the East to the burnt
up steppes, wlxcre the cavalry could make no progress on
account of the stubs and the horses were obliged to have their
feet wrapepd in leather. There were in that direction a
quantity of otter, moles, gigantic snakes, ten yards long and
as thick as a man's arm. Upon the way, to perpetuate the
memory of the affair, they had carved the princely coat of
arms on a solitary oak, and finally they arrived at such for-
saken deserts that they couldn't find the slightest vestige
of any human habitation.

"I thought,^' said the learned Pan Mashkievich, "that like
Ulysses we would also at last arrive in Hades.''

To which Pan Michael answered:

"The men of Zamoyski's squadron, who were in the van,
swear that they saw the boundary where the terrestial orb
ends."

The lieutenant thereupon related to his companions stories
of the Crimea, where he had passed almost half a year, wait-
ing for the Khan's answer; of the towns there which remain
from the earliest times; of the Tartars; of their military
prowess, and finally of the terror which took possession of
them when they heard of the great military expedition
against the Crimea in which all the military powers of the
Commonwealth were to take part.

With such conversation they passed their evenings and
awaited the return of the prince. The lieutenant introduced
Longin Podbipyenta to his friends; his kindly disposition
won all hearts, and his superhuman strength in sword exer-
cises won him universal respect. He told one and all about
his ancestor, and about the three decapitated knights, but
he remained silent about his vow, for he did not wish to
lay himself open to ridicule. A special friendship sprang
up between himself and Pan Michael as they both had such
soft hearts. Before many days had passed, they were taking
long walks together upon the ramparts and sighing — one
to the star that seemed so high above him that he could not
reach it, that is, the Princess Anna — the other to the un-
known from whom he was divided by the three heads of
his vow.

WITE FIRE AND SWORD,

73

Volodiyovski tried to persuade Longin to enter the dra-
goons; the Lithuanian however remained firm in his decision
to enter the Cuirassiers, in order to serve under Skshetuski;
for he had heard with delight in Lubni that he was con-
sidered by all a knight without blemish, and one of the
prince's best officers. And just now a vacancy had occured
in Lieutenant Skshetuski's regiment as Pan Zakshevski,
nicknamed "Miserere mei," had been dangerously and hope-
lessly ill for two weeks, in consequence of the damp weather
which had caused all his wounds to open afresh. Added to
the love-sorrows of the lieutenant was now the threatened
loss of his old comrade and trusty friend. For hours he re-
mained daily at his bed, comforting him as well as he could,
and cheering him with the hope that they would yet make
many an expedition together.

But the old soldier needed no comfort; he awaited death
joyfully on his hard pallet that was covered with horses'
hides. He looked at the crucifix that hung over his cot with
an almost childlike smile; but to Skshetuski he said:

"Miserere mei! lieutenant, I am going to my heavenly
rest. My body is so torn with holes that I fear that St.
Peter who is God's steward and has to keep account of the
order in Heaven will not let me into Paradise in such a
tattered garment; but I will say to him, 'Holy little Peter,
I conjure you by the ear of Mai eh us, do not disgrace me so;
it was the heathen that put my bodily garment in such a
condition . . . '

"Miserere mei, and should there be an expedition led by
St. Michael against the powers of Hell, the old Zakshevski
can yet be of some service. ..."

The lieutenant, although as a soldier he had so often gazed
into the eye of death and had even been the cause of death
himself, could not keep back his tears when he heard the
old man talking, as if his departure were no more than a
bright sunset.

But one morning, the bells in all the churches of Lubni
tolled to announce the death of Zakshevski. On this day, the
prince arrived from Siench, and with him Pan Bodzinski and
Pan Lassota and the whole court and a number of the no-
bility, in several dozen carriages; for the journey to Pan
Suffchynski was a long one. The prince arranged a splendid
funeral to honor the dead soldier, and to show how much
he loved a true knight. Consequently all the regiments sta-

74 ^777/ FIRE AM) fsWORD.

tionc'd in Lul)ni took part in the funeral procession. From
the riiiiipaits salutes vcre fired from cannon and smaller
arms: tlie cavalry marched from the castle to the parish
cliurch of the town, in order of hattle, but with crepe on
their flags. The infantry followed with their muskets re-
versed. The prince himself took the lead in mourning ap-
parel, riding behind the coflBn which was borne in a gilded
carriage drawn by eight milk-white horses, whose manes
and tails had ben dyed red, and who bore a bunch of black
ostrich plumes on their heads. In front of the hearse walked
a division of janissaries, who were the body-guard of the
prince, and immediately behind the hearse rode pages in
Spanish dress, mounted on powerful horses, then came the
high court officials, the unattachd courtiers, the household
and finally the Haiduks and Pajuks (Turkish servants.) The
mourning procession halted at the door of the church, where
the priest Yaskolski greeted the coffin with a speech begin-
ning with these words: "Whither hastenest thou, Zakshev-
ski?" Then several of his comrades spoke in his praise,
among them, Skshetuski, as his superior officer and friend.
The coffin was then carried into the church and, the most
eloquent orator of all, the Jesuit Mukhovietski, spoke with
such fervor and impressive earnestness that the prince him-
self was moved to tears. He was indeed a man of exceed-
ingly tender heart and a true father to his soldiers. He main-
tained a rigid discipline; but in point of generosit)% kindly
treatment of his men, and care for them, and not only for
them but also for their children and wives, no one could
be compared with him. Towards rebels, he was terrible and
pitiless, but was a true l)enofactor not only to the nobility
l)ut to all his people. In '46, when the locu«^ts had destroyed
the crops, he remitted all the rents of his tenantry for a
whole year and commanded his subjects to give out grain
from their stores; and after the great fire in Khorol, he main-
tained all the citizens for two months at his own charge. The
farmers and vice-starosts on the estates trembled lest the
slightest rumor should come to the ear of the prince of any
ill-treatment or wrong that should happen to the peasants.
He exercised such a watchfulness over orphans that in the
Dnieper country they received the nickname of "The Prince's
children." They were the special care of Princess Grizela,
and Father Mukhovietski was her firm ally. Therefore, all
through the prince's territory, order, prosperity, justice, and

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

75

peace reigned; but also, terror; for at the least sign of re-
bellion the prince's anger and punishment were unbounded,
so closely allied in his nature were broadmindedness and
severity. In those days and in those countries, it was only
this severity that could diffuse and establish civilization and,
with its help, towns and villages arose; the former could get
the upper hand of the robber haydamak, the merchant could
peacefully sell his wares, the bells could call the faithful
peacefully to prayer. Only by its help could the enemy be
prevented from crossing the borders, and could the multi-
tude of robber-bands be destroyed or turned into disciplined
soldiers; only by its help could the desert lands be made to
flourish.

The wild territory and the wild inhabitants required just
such a hand as that of the prince; for, in the Dnieper dis-
trict, the most restless elements came from the Ukraine; col-
onists enticed thither by the fruitfulness of the soil; runaway
peasants from all parts of the Commonwealth; criminals who
had escaped from prison; in a word, as Livy says: ^*Pastorum
convenarumque plcbs transfuga ex suispopulis.' To hold
these elements in bounds, to transform them into peaceful
settlers and to enchain them in the fetters of civilized life,
a lion was needed at whose roar all trembled.

Pan Longin Podbipyenta who saw the prince, for the first
time in his life at the funeral could hardly believe his own
eyes, for he had heard so much of his fame that he had
imagined he must be a giant, who overtopped the rest of
men by a head at least. But in fact, the prince was almost
undersized and rather thin. lie was still young, only in his
thirty-sixth year, but his face bore traces of the hardships
of war, for although in Jjubni he lived as a veritable king;
during his numerous military expeditions, he partook of the
hardships of the simplest com])anion, eat black bread, and
slept upon the ground on a felt rug, and, as he spent the
greater part of his time in camp, the traces of his hardships
were visible in his features. But his face, at first glance g?\e
evidence of an extraordinary man. It portrayed an unyield-
ing iron will and a majesty before which everyone involun-
arily bowed his head. One could see that this man under-
stood his power and his greatness and if to-morrow a crown
should be set on his head, he would neither be astonished nor
feel oppressed by its weight. His eyes were large, peaceful,
almost gentle, and yet fire seemed to sleep in their depths.

76 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

One felt that it would go hard with him who should awaken
that fire. No one could enter the flash of that glance; even
ambassadors, experienced courtiers, when they came in Yere-
my's presence, were confused and knew not how to begin
their speech. He was really in this country of the Dnieper
a true king. From his office, privileges and grants were sent
abroad, headed: "We, by the grace of God, Prince and Hos-
podar, etc." He considered very few lords his equals, princes
of the blood of the old rulers were marshals at his court, such
a one was in his time the father of Helena, Vasil Bulyhov
Kurtsevich, whose race, as told before took its origin in
Koryat and, in truth, went back as far as Ruryk.

There was something about Prince Yeremy that, in spite of
his natural benevolence, kept men at a distance. He loved
his soldiers and treated them familiarly — but no one dared
to treat him with it. And yet if he had commanded his offi-
cers to plunge on horseback into the Dnieper — ^they would
have done it without hesitating.

From his Wallachian mother, he had inheritea his fair
waxen complexion like iron at white heat; and hair black as
the wings of a crow, which was shaven all over his head except
above his brow, where it hung down in luxuriant locks. It
was cut straight across the forehead which it half covered.
He wore the Polish dress, but paid little attention to his ap-
parel, and only on great occasions wore costly garments; but
then, he glittered all over from head to foot in gold and
precious stones. Pan Longin happened a few days later to be
present on such an occasion when the prince was giving aud-
ience to Eozvan-Ursu. The ambassadors were always re-
ceived in the Elue Hall, so called, because on the ceiling was
the firmament set with stars, painted by the brush of the
Dantzig artist. Helm. The prince took his seat under
a baldachin of velvet and ermine, upon a raised seat similar
to a throne, whose footstool was covered with gilded work.
Behind the prince stood the priest Mukhovietski, the Secre-
tary, the marshal, .Count Voronich, Pan Loguslav, Mashkie-
vich; then came the pages, and twelve attendants in Spanish
garb carrying their halberds.

The background of the hall was filled with knights in glit-
tering apparel and jewelry. Pan Rozvan entreated in the
name of the hospodar that the prince, through his influence
and the terror of his name, might carry cut in the Khan's
dominions the ordinance against the Tartars of Budziak, that

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jj

they should no longer be allowed to attack Wallachia, for
they had been in the habit of perpetrating frightful damage
and destruction each year. Thereupon the prince answered in
excellent Latin, that the Budziaks had no great respect for
the Elhan's authority, but that when Chausa Murza the am-
bassador of the Khan should arrive, as he expected, in April,
he would, through him, make representations to the Khan
regarding the Wallachian outrages. Pan Skshetuski had al-
ready given the prince a full report of his journey and his
embassy as well as all that he had heard about Khmyelnitski
and his flight to Sich. The prince determined to send some
regiments to Kudak, but he did not attach much importance
to this matter. As peace reigned and nothing seemed to
threaten the power of the Dnieper regions, all kinds of fes-
tivities and entertainments took place in Lubni both in honor
of the presence of the Ambassador Rozvan as well as because
Pan Bodzynski and Lassota had with due ceremony in the
name of the Voyevoda's son Pshiyemski made a formal re-
quest for the hand of the elder princess Anna and had re-
ceived a favorable answer from the prince and the Princess
Qrizelda.

Only little Volodiyovski suffered on that account no slight
pain; and when Skshetuski sought to console him, he an-
swered:

"It is all very well for you to talk; if you only wish it, you
know Anna Borzobahata will not refuse you. She has
thought frequently of you "while you were away. At first I
thought she pretended to like you in order to excite Bykho-
viets' jealousy, but I see she was only quietly hanging him
on the hook and feels a lively affection for you alone."

"What is Anna to me! Turn to her, I don't forbid, but
give up thinking about Princess Anna. It is exactly like
trying to cover a phoenix's nest with a cap."

"I know well that she is a phoenix and therefore, I shall
certainly die for sorrow."

^TTou will live and soon fall in love again, but not with
Princess Barbara, for the son of some other Voyevoda will
carry her off from under your nose."

"Is the heart a slave that can be commanded? Can you
hinder your eyes from admiring such a wonderful being as
Princess Barbara, the sight of whom is enough to move even
wild animals."

*T)evil, you have a covering," cried Skshetuski, "I see that

ji WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

you do not need me to comfort you, but I repeat, return to
Anusia, I will not stand in your way."

Anusia, however, gave no thought to Volodiyovski. Skshet-
uski^s indifference on the contrary provoked her, made her
curious, and annoyed her. After being away so long, he
hardly glanced at her. In the evenings when the prince with
the distinguished officers and courtiers came into the prince's
sitting room, to pass the time in conversation, Anusia would
look around the shoulders of her mistress (for the princess
was tall and Anusia was short), her black eyes fixed inquir-
ingly upon the face of the lieutenant, trying to solve this
riddle. But Skshetuski's eyes, like his thoughts, were wan-
dering, and if his eyes chanced to fall on Anusia, they were
absorbed in thought and glassy, as though he hardly saw
her, — her to whom he once sang:

" The Tartar makes captives of people,
But thou makest captives of hearts ! "

"What has happened to him," the spoiled darling of the
whole court asked herself, and stamping her little foot upon
the groimd she doteiinined that she would get to the bottom
of the matter. She did not really love Skshetuski, but she
was so accustomed to homage that she could not endure that
any one should not notice her, and for very pique she was
ready to fall in love with the daring fellow.

One day when she was taking a skein of thread to the
Princess she met Skshetuski, who was just coming out of
the bedroom of the prince. She ran up against his breast like
a storm and then suddenly recoiled and said:

"Ah! What a fright 1 had! Good morning, sir!"

"Good day, Panna Anna! Have I done something mon-
strous to frighten Panna Anna?''

The girl stood tliere with her eyes cast down, twisting the
end of her long braid with the fingers of her empty hand,
resting first on one foot and then on the other, and answered
with a smile as though confused:

"Oh, no, not that — ^not at all — as T love my Mother."

Then all at once, she looked up at the lieutenant and im-
mediately let her eyes fall again.

"Are you angry with me?"

"T, as if Panna Anna cared for my anger!"

"Why no, in truth, not. Why should I care! Or do you
think perhaps I am going to cry? Pan Bikhovyets is more
polite."

WITH FIRE AND ISWOliD. yg

"Well, there is nothing for it then but to give place to
Pan Bikhovyets and to disappear from Panna Anna's sight."

"Do I detain you?"

Then Anusia placed herself right in his way.

'*You have just come back from the Crimea?" she said.

"From the Crimea?"

"And what did you bring back from the Crimea?"

"I brought Pan Podbipycnta back with me. You have
seen him? He is an amiable and stately cavalier."

"He might easily be more amiable than you. Why did he
come here?"

"In order that Panna Anna might have some one on whom
she might try her power. But I would advise you to set
about it carefully, for I know a secret about this gentleman
that makes him invulnerable. . . Even Panna Anna will not
be able to do anything with him."

"Why is he invulnerable?"

"Because he cannot marry."

"What does that matter to me? Why can he not marry?"

Skshetuski leaned over the maiden's ear, but said very
loudly and impressively:

"Because he has taken a vow of chastity."

"You idiot!" said Anna, and disappeared in a moment like
a frightened bird.

But that very evening she observed Pan Longin attentively
for the first time. There were many guests assembled on
this day, for the princess was giving a farewell dinner to Pan
Bodzynski. Our Lithuanian, carefully dressed in a white
satin coat, and a dark blue velvet waistcoat looked very state-
ly, and more so, as, instead of his cowl-shearing sword he wore
a light scimitar in a golden sheath at his side.

Anna's little eyes were aimed at Longin somewhat inten-
tionally to annoy Skshetuski. The lieutenant, however,
would have paid no attention if Yolodiyovski had not nudged
him and said:

"May I fall into the hands of the heathen if Anna is not
beginning a flirtation with that Lithuanian hop-pole."

"Tell him that."

"Certainly I will tell him. They would make a capital
pair. He could wear her as the clasp of his coat, such is the
proportion between them."

"Or instead of a tassel on his cap."

Yolodiyovski stepped up to the Lithuanian:

8o WITE FIRE AND SWORD.

"You have not been here long/' said he, *T)ut I see that
you are a lady-killer."

"What is it? little brother."

"You have caught the most beautiful lady in waiting in
the whole court."

"But, Sir," said Podbipyenta, folding his hands; "what
do you mean?"

"Just look at Panna Anna Borzobahata whom we are all
in love with. How she is shooting at you with her little eyes!
But, beware that she does not lead you a dance, as she has
led many of us already."

Volodiyovski turned away and went off, heaving Longin to
his astonishment. He did not dare to look over in the direc-
tion where Anusia was. It was not for some time that he
glanced over there, but he was fairly frightened.

From behind the shoulders of Princess Grizelda, looked
two bright eyes, full of curiosity and interest. Get behind
me Satan! thouc^ht the Lithuanian and fled, blushing like a
school-boy, to the other end of the room.

But the temptation was too great. "The little minx who
looked around the shoulders of the princess, was so attractive
and her little eyes shone so brightly that Pan Longin felt
drawn somewhat in that direction, if to see her only once
more. Then he thought of his vow; his ancestor, Stoveyko
Podbipyenta; the three trunkless heads stood before his eyes,
and a terror seized him. He crossed himself and did not look
in her direction once again that evening. The following
morning, however, he betook himself to Skshetuski's quarters.

"Lieutenant, are we soon going to march? What have you
heard about the war?"

"Are you in such haste? Have patience until you get your
commission."

Pan Podbipyenta had in fact not yet replaced the late
Zakshevski. He had to wait until three months had elapsed
and that would not be until the first of April, but he was
really anxious to know, so he asked the lieutenant again:

"And has not his Excellency, the prince, said anything
about this matter?"

"Not a word. The king will never, until he dies, give up
the idea of this war; but the Commonwealth does not wish it."

"And in Chigrin they say a Cossack rebellion is threat-
ened."

"It is easy to see that your vow bothers you a (;ood deal.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, g.

As far as the rebellion is concerned, you may as well know
that it will not take place till spring. Even if winter is mild,
winter is still winter. It is only February fifteenth, any day
we may have frost and the Cossack will never take the field
unless he can throw up earth-works to protect himself; for,
behind the earth-works, he can fight splendidly, but in the
open field, he cannot hold his own.^^

"So then we shall have to wait for the Cossacks!"

"Consider besides, that even if during the rebellion you
should find your three heads, it is still a question whether
you are free from your vow; for it is one thing to kill Cru-
saders or Turks, and another to kill — how shall 1 say it — ^your
own — ^the children of the same mother."

"That's a knotty point. That is desperate. Father Muk-
hovyetski must solve these doubts for me; otherwise we shall
not have a moment's peace."

"Certainly he will solve them, for he is a learned and pious
man; but certainly he will not say otherwise. Civil war, that
it a war between brothers."

"And if a foreign power should come to the assistance of
the rebels!"

"Then you might have the field, but for the present, I can
only advise you one thing — wait and be patient."

Skshetuski could not, however, follow this advice himself.
His longing increased more and more. The court festivities
and the faces that he formerly looked at with pleasure were
now wearisome to him. Pan Bodzynski and Pan Lassota and
Pan Rozvan-Ursu had at length gone away, and after their
departure, everything was very quiet. Life began to flow
along monotonously. The prince was occupied with making
an inventory of his enormous possessions and shut himself up
every morning with his commissioners who had come together
from the whole of Russia and from the Sandonmirski terri-
tory— so that even the military exercises now seldom could
take place. The brilliant military festivities, at which the
future war was discussed, were very distasteful to Skshetuski.
Therefore he took his gun and escaped to the Solonits, where
long years before Zolievski had so thoroughly beaten Nale-
vayka, Loboda, and Krenpski. The traces of that battle were
already extinct in the memory of man, as well as the scene of
the battle. From time to time, however, the earth threw up
whitened bones and on the other side of the water, Cossack
earthworks rose behind which Loboda's Zaporojians and Nale-

82 W/TH FIRE AND SWORD.

vayka's freebooters defended themselves so desperately; but
now, on the intrenchment grew luxuriant brush. Thither
Skshetuski went to seek refuge from the stir of the court
life and instead of shooting birds, he gave himself up to medi-
tation. There, before the eyes of his soul, stood the form of
his beloved, brought there by remembrance and by the wish
of his heart. There, amid the mists, the rustling of the reeds,
and the melancholy of the surroundings, he found an allevia-
tion for his longings.

Soon, however, rains that announced the spring, began to
pour down. The Solonits changed to a swamp; one dared
not to put his head out of doors and the lieutenant was de-
prived of the consolation of his wanderings. His restless-
ness increased meanwhile and not without cause. He had
hoped in the beginning that the Princess Kurtsevich and
Helena, as soon as the princess was able to send Bohun away,
would come to Lubni; now, however, this hope was extin-
guished. The wet weather had destroyed the roads; the
steppes on both sides of the Suly for several miles were an
enormous swamp that could only be crossed by wading, until
the warm spring sun had absorbed the water and the damp-
ness. All this time, Helena was obliged to remain in the
care of those whom Skshetuski did not trust, in a veritable
wolf's den, among uncultivated, wild people, whose feelings
w^re hostile to Skshetuski. For their own good indeed they
were obliged to keep their word — and they had no other
way — but who could say what they might plan, what they
might dare, especially as that terrible Cossack chief, whom
they evidently loved and at the same time feared, was in
their neighborhood. It would not be difficult for him to
o])lige them to give him the girl. Such cases were not rare.

Years before, Loboda, the comrade of the unfortunate
Nalevayka had obliged Panna Poplinska to give him her
ward as a wife, although the girl was of noble birth and hated
the rebel leader with her whole heart. And if it were true
that Bohun possessed such immense treasures, he could pay
them not only for the girl, but also for the loss of Rozloga,
and what then? Then thought Skshetuski — they will inform
me contemptuously that "The hunt is over" and they them-
selves will hide in the Lithuanian or Mazurian deserts where
even the mighty hand of the prince could not reach them.

Skshetuski shuddered at this thought as if he had a fever;
raged like a wolf at his chain; regretted that he had given his

WITB FIRE AND SWORD. gj

knightly word to the princess — and knew not what he should
do. And he was a man who did not easily let chance lead
him hy the beard. In his nature he had great enterprise and
energy. He did not wait for what fate might have in store;
he preferred to take fate by the neck and oblige it to bring
him fortune. Therefore it was harder for him than for an-
other to sit in Lubni with his hands folded.

He resolved therefore to act. He had a serving boy, Jend-
zian, an impoverished noble Podlasian.* He was only sixteen,
but he was a rascal who could not be surpassed by any old
fox. Skshetuski resolved to send him to Helena and obtain
at once information about her. February had come to an end ;
the rains were over. March appeared to promise milder
weather and the roads were somewhat improved. Jendzian
set out, therefore, on his way. Skshetuski provided him with
a letter, with paper, pen, and a bottle of ink, which he com-
manded him to treasure as the eye in his head; for he re-
membered that these things were not to be had in Rozloga.
He also warned the boy not to say from whom he came, but
to say that he was travelling to Ohigrin and to carefully note
all that he saw; and especially to get exact information about
Bohun, where he was, and what he was doing. Jendzian did
not need to have the instructions repeated; but, setting his
cap on one side of his head, whirled his whip in the air, and
rode off.

Skshetuski had now passed weary days of expectrtion. In
order to kill time, he took up fencing with Pan Volodiyovski,
rt'ho was a great master of the art; or threw javelins at a
mark. An event took place in liubni by which the lieutenant
nearly lost his life. One day a bear broke loose from his
chain, wounded two of the sta])lcnipn of the court, frightened
the Commissioner Khlebovski's hor^e, and sprang on the
lieutenant as he was coming out of the armory on his way
to see the prince, without his sword at his side, and only a
light pole-axe, with a brass head in his hand. The lieutenant
would assuredly have been killed if Longin, who saw every-
thing from the armory window, had not seized his Cowl-
Trencher and hastened to his assistance. Pan Longin showed
himself a worthy descendant of his ancestor, Stoveyka. Be-
fore the eyes of the whole household, with one stroke of his
sword, he cut off the bear's snout, as well as his paws. This

* A four-foote'l rogue.

§4 ^J'l'B f*H^B A^I> SWORD,

proof of extraordinary strength astonished the prince who
was looking out of a window, lie conducted Pan Longin to
the room of the princess where Anna Borzobahata fascinated
him so with her Uttle eyes that the following day, he did
not let himself be seen, in order by earnest prayer to resist
all temptation.

Meanwhile, ten days had elapsed, and Jendzian had not
yet returned. Skshetuski began to grow thin from suspense
and to look so ill that even Anusia sent a messenger to ask
what ailed him — ^and Carboni, the Court doctor prescribed
him some kind of draught against melancholy. But he needed
something more than this potion. Day uid night he thought
of his princess — and felt more than ever that it was not a
passing emotion that had taken possession of him, but a great
love which must ])e satisfied, or it would break his heart like a
fragile vessel. His joy therefore could easily be imagined
when one day, Jendzian stepped into his quarters, covered
with mud, weary and bedraggled, but Ath good news written
on his brow. The lieutenant sprang out of bed, ran to meet
him, seized him by the arm and shouted:

"Have you a letter?"

"1 have, sir! Here it is."

The lieutenant snatched it quickly from his hand and
began to read; he had long doubted whether, even if things
were favorable, Jendzian would bring him a letter, for he
was not certain that Helena could write. Women in the bor-
der lands were not learned, and Helena, besides, had grown
up among uneducated people. But her father had evidently
taught her this art, for she had written a long letter, cover-
ing four pages of the paper. The poor little woman could
not indeed express herself with rhetorical grace, but she wrote
from her heart as follows:

"I will never forget thee, but you may soon forget me, for
I hear that there are flirts among you. But if thou hast sent
thy boy so many miles on purpose, 1 see that I am dear to
thee as thou art to me, for which I thank thee gratefully.
Do not think. Sir, that it is contrary to modesty if I write to
thee of my love; but is it not better to speak the truth than
to lie, or to conceal it, if one has anything else in their heart?
I also asked Jendzian what is doing in Lubni and what are
the manners of the great court, and when he told me of the
beauty and the graceful manners of the young ladies there,
I cried for sadness."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. g^

Here the lieutenant interrupted his reading and asked
Jendzian:

"WTiat did you tell her, you idiot?"

**Everything good, sir — " answered Jendzian.

The lieutenant read on:

" How shall I, a simple maiden, compare my-
self with them; but the boy told me, that thou dost not look
at any of them. . . . ''

"You said well!'' remarked the lieutenant.

Jendzian did not know what Skshetuski was talking about,
for he read the letter to himself; but he looked very knowing
and cleared his throat meaningly. Skshetuski continued to
read:

" So I was immediately comforted and prayed

God to continue to keep thee in such an affectionate dis-
position towards me and to bless us both, Amen. I have
longed for thee as for my mother; for, for me, an orphan, the

world is sad, but not for thee God looks in my heart

and sees that it is pure and thou wilt pardon my lack of
education "

Then the pretty little princess told him that she was going
to Lubni with her aunt as soon as the roads became passable
and that ^he Princess herself wished to hurry the journey, as
news of a Cossack rebellion had come from Chigrin. She
was waiting only the return of the young princes who had
driven to Boguslav to the horse-fair.

"You are a real magician," continued Helena, "to have
won my aunt over."

The lieutenant smiled when he remembered by what means
he had won her aunt. The letter closed with the assurance of
stedfast, faithful love, such as a betrothed owes to her future
husband. The whole letter revealed a pure, true heart; and
the lieutenant read this dear letter several times from begin-
ning to end and he repeated in his soul, "My darling girl!
May God forsake me if I ever fail you."

Now he began to question Jendzian about everything. The
sly fellow gave him an exact account of his journey? They
had received him well. The old princess had inquired about
the lieutenant and after she learned that he was a distin-
guished knight and the confidant of the prince and, besides
that, a man of means, she appeared satisfied.

"She also asked me," said Jendzian, "if the lieutenant
when he promised anything, was sure always to keep his

86 W/TH FIRE AND SWORD,

word; and I answered her, 'Gracious Lady, if the little Wal-
lach pony upon which I rode here were promised me I should
be sure that he would not escape me. . . . *'

"You're a rascal," said the lieutenant, "but as you did me
such pfood service, you shall have him. You did not conceal
your identity then, but said who sent you?"

"I said so because I saw that I might venture to do it and
they received me all the more kindly, especially the young
lady, who is so beautiful that she has not her superior in the
whole world; and when she heard that I had come from your
Honor, she did not know what she could do for me. If it had
not been a fast day, she would have loaded me with every-
thing as in Heaven. She wept with joy as she read your Ex-
cellency's letter."

The lieutenant was silent from joy, and presently, he asked
again:

"Did you hear nothing about Bohun?"

"It did not appear wise to ask the young lady or the old
Princess anything about him, but I made friends with old
Chekhly. lie is a heathen, but yet a faithful servant of the
yonng lady. Ho told me that they had all grumbled at first
about your Excellency, but afterwards they appeared to be
satisfied; and the reason was that they learned that all that
had been told about Bobun's treasures was a fable."

"And how did they become convinced of this?"

"See here, your Excellency, this is how it was: They had
a feud with the Sivinskis to whom they had bound them-
selves to make a payment. When the money was due, they
said to Bohun: "Lend us some money!' He answered how-
ever, 'Turkish property' I have a certain amount of, but treavS-
ure I have none; for what I once possessed, I have run
through.* As they heard this he seemed to decrease in value
in their sight — and they turned their love over to you."

"1 have nothing to say, but that vou made all the inquiries
T wanted."

"Aiy lord, if I had inquired after one thing and not after
another, you would have said to me with justice; 'The horso
thou mayst have, but the saddle I shall keep back!' What
would mv master do with a horse without a saddle?"

"Well,* well, take the saddle too."

"I thank my master most humbly. They sent Bohum im-
mediately to Pereyasilav. AVhen I learned that, I thought to
myself, 'Why should I not go to Pereyaslav?' If my master
is satisfied with me, I shall more readily receive my colors. ."

WifB PI RE AKD SftrOfti). gj

"You shall have them at the next quarter. So you went
to Pereyaslav?"

"I did, but I did not find.Bohun there. The old Colonel
Loboda is ill. They say he will not last long and Bohun
will become Colonel. . . But there is something strange going
on there. Of all his Semenovs, it is said that only a handful
remain under his colors — the rest of them, they say, have
gone over to Bohun, or have fled to Sich and that, gracious
sir, is a serious matter. There must be a rebellion under
consideration there. I absolutely insisted upon learning
something about Bohun, but all they could tell me was that
he had gone over to the Russian bank of the Dnieper*, so I
think if that is the case, our young lady is safe from him.
And then I came home."

"You have done well. Did you have any adventures on
your journey?"

"No, gracious sir, but I am frightfully hungry."

Jendzian went out and the lieutenant who was left alone
began to read over Helena's letter and to press those charac-
ters that were not as graceful as the hand which had formed
them, to his lips. His heart was full of hope and he thought
to himself: 'The roads /ill soon be dry if God gives us fine
weather. The Kurtseviches then, who have now found out
that Bohun is a beggar, will not care to betray me. I will
leave them Rozloga and give them some of my own property,
if I can only attain that beloved star. . . "

He dressed himself and went, with beaming face and joyful
heart, into the chapel, to give humble thanks to God for the
good news.

The right Bide of the Dnieper is called Russian ; and the lof^, Tartar.

CHAPTER VI.

Over the whole Ukraine and the country beyond the
Dneiper, miitterings were heard as of an approaching
tempest. Strange reports and tidings flew from village to
village, from farm to farm, like those plants which 'Wie wind
in Autumn carries across the steppes and which the peaaants
call perekotypol. In the towns there were rumors of an ap-
proaching great war, although no one knew who would lead
it, or against whom it would be undertaken. Something
must come however. The faces of men became anxious; the
farmer went reluctantly to plough his fields, although an
early, peaceful warm spring had come, and over the breadth of
the steppes the larks were singing. In the evenings, the men
in the villages gathered in crowds; stopped in the middle of
the road and gossiped in low tones about terrible rumors.
The blind beggars who travelled with lyres and songs were
eagerly asked for news. To many it seemed as if they saw
a glow in the heavens at night, and as if the moon rose more
red than usual behind the forests. Calamities were prophe-
sied, and the death of the king; and it was all the more won-
derful as, in this part of the country, which, from time im-
memorial, had been accustomed to unrest, wars, invasions, or
fear did not easily find an entrance. There must therefore
be evil omens in the air, as the alarm was universal.

It was all the more oppressive, all the more terrifying, as
no one could point out the danger. But among the signs of
threatening danger, two, especially, seemed to be of prime
importance. First, an unheard-of crowd of travelling, blind
singers were seen in every village and town; and among them
were strangers, unknown forms, and it was whispered that
they were pretended beggars. They travelled everywhere
and prophesied mysteriously that the day of judgment and of
divine wrath was at hand. Then, the Nijovs began to drink
as if to excess.

The second sign was even more orninous. Sieh, which was
enclosed in narrow boundaries could not support all its inha-
88

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gg

bitants; warlike expeditions did not always take plaee and in
their absence the steppes did not give bread to the Cossacks.
Consequently a great number of the Nijovs scattered abroad
in times of peace in the inhabited districts. Numbers of
them were in the Ukraine. Yes, even in the whole of Russia.
Some of them jodned the following of the Starosta, others
dispensed vodka in the street; others occupied themselves in
the villages and small towns with commerce and professions.
In almost every village^ ther*> stood not far from the other
dwellings a cabin, in which lived a Zaporojian. Some of
them had a wife and kept house in these cabins, and such a
Zaporojian, one who was generally capable, was in some re-
spects a benefit to the villages in which he lived. There
were no better smitns, wheelwrightes, tanners, wax-bleacliers,
fishermen, and sportmen than they. The (^^ossack under-
stood everything, could make anything; he could build a
house, and could sew a saddle. Usually, however, the Cos-
sacks were not permanent settlers, for they always lived for
the moment. Whoever desired to execute the law with the
might of arms; to attack his neighbors, or, fearing their at-
tack, wished to defend himself, such a one needed only to
shout and the Cossacks came flying to him like crows to their
prey. The nobility, those landed proprietors who were con-
tinually at feud with one another, made use of them. When
the Cossacks had no such services to perform, they remained
quietly in the villages and earned with the severest toil, and
by the sweat of their brow, their daily bread.

This lasted sometimes for a year, two years, until suddenly
news would be spread of some great military expedition,
either between an Ottonman against the Tartars or against
the Poles, or by the petty lords of Poland against Wallachia
— and, quick as a flash, these smiths, wheelwrights, tanners
and wax-bleachers, cast aside their quiet occupations and
began first of all to drink unto death in all the wineshops of
the Ukraine.

When they had drunk up all their money, they drank on
credit, "not on what it is but on what it will be." The
future booty would pay for the revel. This happened so
regularly that, in later times, people who knew the Ukraine
well were accustomed to say "Aha! the wine shops are packed
full of Nijovs; something must be preparing in the Ukraine."

And then the starostas would strengthen the fortifications
of their castles and watch all signs carefully; the lords

90

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

gathered together their retainers; the nobility sent their wives
and children into the towns.

This spring the Cossacks began to drink harder than ever;
to dissipate blindly every hard-earned possession; and this
not only in one district, in one province, but in the whole
length and breadth of Bussia.

So there really was something on foot, although the Nijovs
did not know what it was. Men began to speak of Khmyel-
nitski; of his flight to Sich; of the people from Cherkass;
Boguslav, Korsun and other towns that had gone over to him
— they also told other stories. For many years rumors had
been spread of a great war with the heathen, which the King
favored in order to provide booty for his good Cossacks but
which the Poles did not desire — and now all these rumors
were mixed up in people's heads and caused excitement and
the expectation of something unusual.

This alarm had also pierced through the walls of Lubni.
It was impossible to shut one's eyes and ears to all these signs;
and Prince Yeremiy, especially, was the last man to do such
a thing. In his dominions, it is true, the restlessness did not
go beyond bounds. Fear held everyone in check; but after a
time news came from the Ukraine that here and there the
peasants were beginning to raise opposition to the nobility;
that they were killing the Jews; that they were seeking earn-
estly to enlist in the war against the heathen; and that the
number of deserters to Sicli was growing daily.

The Prince therefore sent out messengers; to Pan Krak-
ovski; to Pan Kalinovski; to Loboda in Percy aslav; and he
even recalled the herds from the steppes, and his forces from
his outposts.

All this time quieting news was coming in. The chief
hetman told the prince all that the knew about Khymelnit-
ski; but did not believe that any storm could result. The
Grand Hetman wrote: "The people riot every Spring like
swarms of bees." The old standard-bearer Zatsvilikhovski
alone conjured the prince in a letter not to take matters too
lightly. A great storm was brewing in the direction of the
Wild Lands. He announced that Khymelnitski has hast-
ened from Sich to the Crimea to beg the Khan for assist-
ance." And as friends from Sich have told me — he wrote,
"that there the Koshov commander has gathered together
from all the rivers and hiding places, infantry and cavalry,
without saying a word to anyone about it, and the reason he

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gi

does it, in my belief, is that this Ftorm is going to break on
us in all its fury; and if the Tartars are called in to assist, may
God grant that it does not bring destruction to all the ter-
ritory of Russia,"

The Prince trusted Zatsvilikhovski even more than the
Iletmans. He knew well that in. the whole of Russia no one
knew the Cossacks and their ways so well as he did. He re-
solved therefore to gather together as many soldiers as he
could and at the same time to learn the truth.

One morning he sent for Colonel Bikhovyets, the com-
mander of the Wallach regiment, and said to him:

"You will go in my name as ambassador to Sich to the
Attaman of Koshovs and take him this letter with my
princely seal. In order, however, that you may know what
course you must take, I will tell you this much: the letter is
a pretext, and the whole responeibility of the embassy de-
pends on your adroitness; you must observe everything that
is going on there; how many men they have caJled to arms
and how many they are still calling. One thing I specially
command you, to obtain the confidence of 3ome of the people
and find out everything about Khmyelnitski, where he is, and
if it is true that he has gone to the Crimea to ask for assist-
ance from the Tartars, do you understand?^'

"As though it were written on my hand."

"You will go by way of Chigrin. Do not stay anywhere
longer than one night; as soon as you reach Chigrin, go to
the standard-bearer Zatsvilikhovski and ask him to give you
letttTs to his friends in Sich which you will give to them
privately. They will tell you everything. From Chigrin
you will go to Kudak by boat. Salute Pan Grodzitski for me
and hand him this letter. He will see to it that you get
through the Porog and will send the necessary escort with
you. Do not stop in Sich. Ix)ok, listen, and return, if you
are alive; for this is no easy expedition."

"Your Highness is the ruler of my life. How many men
shall I take with me?"

"You wiW take forty men. To-day, towards evening, you
will set out. Before that time, come to me again for in-
structions. I am intrusting you with an important mission."

Pan Bikhoveyets went out full of joy. In the ante-room,
he met Skshetuski with some artillery officers.

"Mliat's up?" they asked him.

"I am going away to-day."

92 WITH FIRE AND SWOED.

"Where to! Where to?"

"To Chigrin, and from there elsewhere."

"Then come with me/' said Skshetuski, and he led him
into his quarters^ and began to beg him to let him take his
place on this mission.

"As true as you're my friend," he said, "ask what you
will, a Turkish horse, a Spanish horse; you shall have it.
Nothing would be too costly if I could only get in your
place; for my soul longs intensely for those countries. Do
you want money? You have it if you will let me go. It
cannot bring fame, for, if there is to be war, it will come in
the meantime, and you may leave your life on the field. I
know also that Anusia loves you as much as others — if you
go away, they will lure her away from you."

This last argument weighed more with Bikhovyets than
any of the others, but he withstood it, nevertheless. What
would the Prince say if he should withdraw; would he be
angry? Was not such a commission a special mark of the
Prince's favor?

When Skshetuski heard this, he hastened to the prince
and had himself at once announced by a page. The page re-
turned with the command for the lieutenant to enter.

Skshetuski's heart thumped like a hammer for fear he
should receive a curt "no," in reply; and then there would
have been nothing for him to do but to give up everything.

"Well, what have you to say to me?" began the Prince as
he received the lieutenant.

Skshetuski made a low bow.

"My Prince! I came here to beg in all humanity that you
would entrust me with the embassy to Sich. Bikhovyets
would probably withdraw, for he's my friend; and my very
life depends on this matter. Bikhovyets fears only that your
Prince's Highness might be annoyed with him."

"By God," said the Prince, "I would rather have sent you
than anyone; but I thought you would not wish to go, as
you had so recently returned from such a long journey."

"My Prince, if I were sent there every day, I would will-
ingly go to that region."

The Prince looked at him earnestly with his black eyes and
presently asked:

"What have you over there?"

The Lieutenant stood embarrassed as if he were guilty and
could not endure the searching glance.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 93

*T see that I must tell the truth/' he hegan, "for no secret
can withstand your Highness's penetration, but I do not
know if I shall obtain a favorable hearing from your High-
ness."

And then he went on to tell how he had made the ac-
quaintance of Prince Vasil's daughter; had learned to love
her, and how he now yearned to see her, and on his return
from Sich would bring her back to Lubni with him, to save
her from the Cossack rebellion and from Bohun's persistent
attentions. But about the old Princess's machinations he
was silent, for his word bound him; but he entreated the
Prince so earnestly to entrust him with the mission that he
had given to Bikhovyets that the Prince said:

"I would like you to go in any case and would also give
you an escort, and as you have already arranged everything
so cleverly in combining your own love affairs with this un-
dertaking, I suppose I must do this for you?"

Then he clapped his hands and commanded the page to
call Bikhovyets.

The lieutenant kissed the prince's hand for joy. Prince
Yeremy, however, placed both hands on Skshetuski's head
and advised him to be calm. He loved him as a valiant sol-
dier and officer on whom he could always depend. Besides
this, there existed between them the union which arises be-
tween an inferior who trusts those above him with his whole
soul and the superior who appreciates that feeling. A crowd
of courtiers surrounded the prince who served him and flat-
tered him for their own interests; but the penetrating eye of
Prince Yeremy judged well what he might expect from such.
He knew that Skshetuski was genuine — he valued him there-
fore and was grateful to him for his devotion. He also hoard
with pleasure, that his favorite loved the daughter of Prince
Vasil, the old servant of the Vishnovyetskis whose memory
was all the more dear to the Prince from the fact that it had
such sad associations.

"It is not from ingratitude to Prince Vasil," said the prince,
that I have neglected to inquire for his daughter. But as her
guardians never came to Lubni, and as I heard no complaints
against them, I took it for granted they were good people. As
you have brought her to my remembrance, I will think of her
as of a blood relation."

Skshetuski, hearing this, was lost in admiration of the
kindness of the prince, who seemed to reproach himself that

94 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

among his manifold affairs, he had not interested himself in
the fate of the child of his old soldier and courtier.

Meanwhile Bikhovyets had entered.

"Listen," said the prince, "I gave you my orders: if you
want to go, you may do so, but, if you will oblige me, give up
your mission to Skshetuski. He has very particular reasons
for asking this, and I will think of some other recompense."

"My Prince " answered Bikhovyets, "it is a great favor of
your Highness, who may command what he will, to allow me
to make a choice; and I were not worthy of this hoiior — did I
not accept your wishes with a grateful heart."

"Thank your friend," said the prince, "and you," turning
to Skshetuski, "prepare for the road."

Skshetuski fervently thanked Bikhovyets and in a few
hours he was ready. He could not have stayed much longer
in Lubni; and this expedition accorded with all his wishes
First, he would see Helena, and then he must be separated
from her for a long time; but just so much time was neces-
sary, for the roads were almost impassible on account of the
great rains.

Until they were in better condition, the princess could not
come to Lubni with Helena. Skshetuski would have had,
therefore, to wait in Lubni or in Rozloga, which latter was
contrary to his agreement with the princess — and what was
still worse, would awaken Bohun's suspicions. It was certa'n
that Helena would not be safe from his attentions until she
reached Lubni. Therefore, as she had to remain ome time
longer in Kozloga, Skshetuski judged it best to leave Rozloga,
and on his return, to take her away under the protection of
the prince's soldiers. The lieutenant had weighed all these
things and this haj?teiied his journey. After he had arranged
his own affairs; received his letters and instructions from the
prince, and the money for the expedition from the treasurer,
he set out on his journey long before night-fall, taking with
him Jendzian and forty Semenovs from the prince's Cossack
regiment.

CHAPTER VII.

It was already the latter half of March. The grass grew
luxuriantly; the buttercups were in flower, and life was awak-
ening in the steppes. As the lieutenant the following morn-
ing rode at the head of his men, it seemed as if he were on
an ocean whose waves were swaying the undulating wind-
blown grass of the steppes.

In all directions sounded the joyful voices of spring and
of happiness: The calls and clucking and twittering of birds.,
whistling, flapping of wings, the joyous humming of insects.
The sounds of the steppes were like a lyre played by the hand
of God. Above the heads of the horsemen flew hawks who
seemed to be fixed immovably in the blue sky, like suspended
crosses; triangular flights of wild geese; strings of cranes; and
on the earth, herds of wild horses, moving here and there.
liook there! a herd of horses of the steppes; see how they
beat back the grass with their breasts! they rush by like a
storm; and then suddenly stand still like statues, and sur-
round the riders in a semicircle; their manes floating in the
wind, their nostrils distended; their eyes wide open in aston-
ishment as if they would drive away the unwelcome guests.
But in a moment — they take to flight and disappear as quickly
as they came. Only the grass rustles, only the flowers gleam!
The tramping of hoofs is silent; one hears nothing now but
the cries of birds. Gaiety and joy seem paramount and yet •
there is a sad strain through all the gladness of this land; in-
habited, and yet so desolate — so limitless, so immense! No

horse can traverse it; no thought can span it One

must learn to love this sadness, this wilderness, these steppes;
and with yearning soul cleave to them, rest on their grave-
mounds; listen to their voices, and answer.

It was morning; heavy dewdrops glistened on the herbs
and meadows; a refreshing morning wind swept over the
ground which after a heavy rain was full of large puddles,
that looked like little lakes, in the sunlight. The lieutenant's
train moved slowly forward; for they could not hurry, as the

95

96 '^If^ f'iR^ ^^^ SWORD.

horses often sank up to their knees in the soft earth; but
Skshetuski gave them little time to rest on the high mounds,
for he was hastening forward at once to a welcome and to a
farewell. On the second day at noon, just as he was riding
out of a wood, he saw in the distance the wind-mills of Eoz-
loga scattered about the surrounding hills. His heart beat
like a hammer. No one there expected him; no one knew
that he was coming; what would she say when she saw him?
And there already were the cabins of their neighbors almost
hidden in the young cherry orchards. Then the straggling
village of the serfs; and farther in the distance the crane of
the well in the courtyard of the castle. The lieutenant put
spurs to his horse and rode on at a gallop, his attendants fol-
lowing him. In this manner, they passed through the vil-
lage with noise and clatter. Here and there a peasant stepped
out of his cabin, looked after them and, crossing himself, said,
"Are those devils or not, Tartars or not Tartars?** The mud
splashed from their horses* hoofs so that one could hardly see
who the riders were. Meanwhile they had reached the court-
yard of Rozloga and had come to a halt before the open gate.

"Hey, there! open the gate, whoever is there!**

The noise, the knocking, and the barking of the dogs had
called the people out of the house. They hastened, in terror,
to the gate, expecting an attack.

"Who*s there?*'

"Open the gate!**

"The princes are not at home.**

"Open the gate, you son of a heathen; we are from the
Prince, in Lubni.*'

Finally, the servants recognized Skshetuski.

"Ah! that is your grace; immediately! immediately!**

The gate was opened and the old princess herself stepped
out into the hall, put her hand up to shade her eyes and
peered at the new arrivals.

Skshetuski sprang from his horse, approached her and said:

"Gracious princess, do you not recognize me?**

"Ah! it is you, Lieutenant; I thought it was a Tartar at-
tack. I greet you and beg you to come into the house.**

"Perhaps you are surprised. Gracious Princess,** said
Skshetuski, as they entered the room, "to see me in Rozloga;
and yet T have not broken my word, for the prince is sending
me to Chigrin, and still further. He commanded me to stop
over in Rozloga and inquire after your welfare.**

WITH Pins 4.VD SWORD. 57

"I thank his Highness, as m^ gracious Lord. Does he think
of sending us away soon from iTozloga?''

*'He has no idea of it, for he knows no reason for sending
you away, and what I told you will come true. You will re-
main in Kozloga; I have all I need myself."

When the princess heard this, she regained her cheerful-
ness and said:

"Sit down and be as happy as I am to see you."

"And is the young princess well; where is she?"

"I am well aware that you did not come to see me, Cavalier.
She is well; she is indeed. The girl has grown fat upon all
these love affairs. But I will call her now, and will go and
change my dress; for I am ashamed to receive guests in this
attire."

The princess wore a dress of colored chintz with a fur cape
and calf-skin shoes.

At this moment, Helena came boundinsr into the room, for
she had heard from the Tartar, Chekhly, who the arrival was.
She ran in, out of breath, and red as a cherry. It was some
moments before she recovered her breath enough to speak;
but her eyes were bright with happiness and joy. Skshetuski
sprang towards her to kiss her hand; and, as the old princess
had discreetly left the room, he also kissed her on the mouth,
for he was a passionate lover. She did not make much re-
sistance for sne felt overcome with joy.

"I did not expect you," she said softly, closing her pretty
eyes, "but do not kiss me so much. It is not proper."

"How can I help kissing you," answered the knight, "for
honey is not as sweet to me as your lips. I had begun to
think that I should die without you before the prince sent
me here."

"Then the prince knows?"

"I told him everything, and he was even delighted, and re-
membered Prince Vasil. Ah! You naughty girl! you must
have bewitched me, for I see nothing but you in the whole
world."

"Your blindness is a divine favor for me."

"Do you still remember the omen that the falcon gave us
when he dragged our hands together? It was a prophecy."

"I remember it well."

"When, out of sheer longing, I walked from Lubni to the
Solonits, T saw you there plainly as if you were standing be-
fore me, but when I stretched out my hand, you disappeared.

58 ^^»*^ WM AKD mORD,

But now, you shall not escape me any more; for I think that
nothing can any longer stand in our way."

"If anything stands in our way, it will not be my fault."

"Tell me once again that you love me."

Helena cast down, her eyes, but said earnestly and gravely:

"As no one else in the world."

"If any one would load me with gold and high honors, I
would count it as nothing against your word; for I feel that
you are speaking the truth, although I do not know how I
have deserved such great favor from you."

"You had compassion on me; you protected me; you took
my part, and talked to me as I had never been spoken to
before."

Helena paused from emotion, and the lieutenant began
afresh to kiss her hands.

"You shall be my ruler, as well as my wife."

They w-ere silent awhile. He could not take his eyes off
her, as though he would compensate himself for his long
absence. She appeared to him more beautiful than before.
In fact, in this dim light, in the play of the sunbeams, which
painted rainbow colors on the window-panes, she looked like
one of those pictures of the Holy Virgin in the twilight of a
side chapel. And at the same time, so much warmth and
life seemed to radiate from her, and so much delightful
womanly and witchery was painted in her face and in her
whole being, that one might lose his head and love her till
death, and forever!

"I shall yet be blinded by your beauty," said the lieu-
tenant."

The little white teeth of the young princess gleamed in a
joyous smile.

"Panna Anna Borzobahata is sure a hundred times more
beautiful than I."

"You and she are as much alike as the moon's disk to a
tin platter."

"Jendzian told me differently."

"Jendzian deserves a punch in the mouth. What do I
care for that young lady: let other bees draw honey from that
flower; there is no lack of bees there."

Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of
old Chekhly who came to salute the lieutenant. He looked
upon him already as his future master, and therefore, he
bowed low on the threshold and made him a salaam in Orient-
al fashion.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. gg

*TVell, old Chekhly, I will take you along with the young
lady. You are willing to serve her until your death?"

'*It will not be long before that time comes; but as long as
1 live, 1 will remain in her service; the one God knows it/'

"In a month's time, when 1 return from Sich, we will go
to Lubni," said the lieutenant, turning to Helena. "Father
Mukhovietski is waiting for us at the altar."

Helena exclaimed in a terrified voice:

"Are you going to Sich?''

"The prince is sending me there with letters; but fear noth-
ing, the person of an ambassador is sacred, even to the
heathen. I would have preferred to have taken you and the
princess at once, believe me, but the roads are so dreadful. I
saw myself that it was hardly possible even for the horses to
travel."

"Are you going to stay long in Kozloga?"

"This evening I am going to Chigrin, and the sooner I
take leave, the sooner I will see you again; and, besides, the
prince's mission hurries me. My time is not my own, nor
my will."

"I want you to take some refreshments, if youVe had
enough billing and cooing," said the old princess entering.
"Aha! the girl has red cheeks; you did not waste time, cava-
lier! Well, I do not wonder!" Then she gave Helena a
friendly slap on the shoulder and they went in together to
luncheon. The princess was in an excellent humor. She
had long ceased to feel worried about Bohun, and now, thanks*
to the generosity of the lieutenant, things had been so ar-
ranged that Rozloga with its forests, fields and inhabitants,
could be considered absolutely as her property and that of
her sons. And they were not insignificant possessions.

The lieutenant inquired after the princes; if they would
soon return.

"I await them daily. At first they were angry with you;
but then, after they appreciated your behavior, they began to
love you as a future relation ; for they thought that it was not
easy to find a cavalier of your character in the present degen-
erate times."

As soon as luncheon was over, the lieutenant and Helena
went into the cherry orchard which reached to the moat be-
yond the courtyard. The garden was white with blossoms
like snow, while behind it rose an oak forest, in which a
cuckoo was calling.

lOo ^JTU FIRE AND SWORD.

"That is a happy omen," said Skshetuski, "but we must
question him.

And turning to the oak wood, he asked:

"Poor little cuckoo, tell me how many years I shall live in
union with this young lady?"

The cuckoo began to call again and again; they counted
fifty and more.

"God grant it may be so."
• "The cuckoo always tells the truth," said Helena.

"If that is so, I will ask him another question," said the
lieutenant gaily.

And he asked:

"Tell me, poor little cuckoo, how many boys shall we
have?"

As if he knew all about it, the cuckoo immediately began
to ansAver and called neither more or less than twelve times.

Skshetuski was beside himself with joy.

"Oh! as I love God, I shall become a starosta! Did you
hear him, lady, eh?"

"I heard nothing at all," answered Helena, getting red as a
cherry. "I do not even know what you askecl him."

"Shall I repeat it?"

"That is not necessary."

With such chatter and pastime the day passed like a dream,
and with evening came a moment of lingering, touching fare-
.well, then the lieutenant started for Chigrin.

LISTENING TO THE CUCKOO.

CHAPTEE VIII.

In Chigrin, Skshetuski found old Zatsvilikhovski in a state
of the greatest feverish excitement, lie was awaiting im-
patiently the prince's messenger; for theatening news was
coming daily from Sich. He had no longer any doubt that
Khymelnitski was ready to take up arms to avenge his
wrongs, and to try and regain the old privileges of the Cos-
sacks. Zatsvilikhovski had received news that he had been
in the Crimea and had implored the Khan for some Tartar
troops, with w^hich he expected to arrive any day in Sich.
Consequently a general expedition was expected to set out
from Sich for the Commonwealth which, with the help of the
Tartars, might prove destructive. The approaching storm
was perceived each day drawing ever nearer, ever more dis-
tinct, ever more terrible. It was no longer gloomy, uncer-
tain fear, that spread over the Ukraine; it was the certainty
of a war and of carnage. The Grand Iletman, who at first,
had not attached much importance to the whole affair, drew
nearer with his forces to Cherkass. The advance posts of
the king's army reached as far as Chigrin, mainly that they
might prevent the defection of any regiments; for the Cos-
sacks and the inhabitants of the towns began to fly in crowds
to Sich. The nobility collected in the towns. It was said
that in the southern principalities, the militia would be mus-
tered. Many, without w^aiting for orders, sent their wives
and children to fortresses, and themselves went to Cherkass.
The unhappy Ukraine was divided in two halves, the inhabi-
tants of one-half swarmed to Sich; the others into the royal
camp. One party held to the conservative order of things,
the other desired the wildest freedom; one side strove to
maintain the fruits of centuries of toil, the other wished to
steal these possessions from them. Both would, ere long,
stain their hands in the blood of their brethren. Tlie dread-
ful feud resolved itself into a social war before it had taken
up the religious war cries that were absolutely foreign to
Nij.

lOI

I02 WITH FIRE AND SWOkD.

But, although heavy clouds gathered on the horizon of the
Ukraine, although everything seemed wrapped in fatal dark-
ness; although discord worked and fermented inwardly, and
thunder rolled from one end to the other, men did not yet
realize what havoc the storm would cause. Perhaps Khymel-
nitski himself did not realize it, for he sent, in the interim,
letters to the nobles of Cracow; to the Cossack commissioners
and to the commander of the king's forces full of complaints
as well as of assurances of loyalty to Vladislav, the Fourth,
and the Commonwealth. Was he seeking to gain time? or
did he believe that negotiations might yet hinder the out-
break? There were different opinions about it — two men
only were not deceived for a moment. These were Zatsvilik-
hovski and old Bara'bash.

The old colonel had also just received a letter from Khmy-
elnitski, full of scorn, full of threats, and insults. "With the
whole army of the Zaporojians," wrote Khmyelnitski, "I pray
and beseech that those privileges be restored which Your
Grace has confiscated; and because you have kept them back
for your own advantage and profit, the whole army of Zaporo-
jians consider you worthy to rule sheep or swine, but not
men. I, however, ask Your Grace's pardon if, in any par-
ticular I failed in courtesy in my poor house at Chigrin on
St. Nicholas' day — and because I rode away without per-
mission to Zaporoj."

"See, worthy Sirs," said Barabash, to Zatsvilikhovski and
Skshetuski, "see how he insults me, and it was I who taught
him the art of war, and was as quite a father to him."

"So he announces that he will demand his rights with the
whole army of Zaporojians at his back," said Zatsvilikhovski,
"that is in fact a civil war, the most dreadful of all wars."

"1 see I must hasten; give me, good Sirs, the letters to
those with whom I must confer," said Skshetuski. "Have
you one to the Koshov Ataman?"

^TTes, from the prince himself."

**W^ell, then, I will give you one to the commander-in-
chief, and you, Colonel Barabash, have also a relation there
by the name of Barabash; from him, you can find out all
you want to know. But who knows if it is not already too
late for such an expedition. Does the prince want to know
what is really going on there? The answer is simple; crooked
dealing is going on. And if he wishes to know what is
best to be done, the advice is short: Gather together as
many soldiers as possible and join forces with the Hetman."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 103

**Well, despatch at once a messenger to the prince with
the answer and with the advice/' said Skshetuski. "I must
go to Sich for I was sent there and cannot change the will
of the prince."

And do you know that it is a frightfully dangerous
journey?" said Zatsvilikhovski. "The people here are al-
ready so excited that one hardly dares to remain here. If
the king's forces were not near, the people would throw them-
selves upon us, and there — ^you are running into the jaws of
the dragon."

"Lieutenant, Jonah was in the belly of the great fish, not
only in his jaws; but with God's help, he came out whole."

"Well, then, travel on, I admire your determination. You
can ride safely as far as Kudak, but there you must look
round you, and see what is best to do. Grodzitski is an old
soldier; he will give you the best instructions, and I myself
will go to the prince; if I have to fight in my old age, I
would rather fight under him than any other man. Mean-
while, I will prepare a boat and a boatman for you who will
take you to Kudak."

Skshetuski went out and betook himself speedily to his
quarters on the market-place, in the house of the prince, in
order to make his final prepartions. In spite of the dangers
of the journey, of which Zatsvilikhovski had told him, the
lieutenant could not think of it without a certain satisfaction.
He would see the Dnieper in its whole length, as far as Nij
and Porog, which for the knights of those days was a land
full of enchantment and of mysterious adventure, that which
attracted every enterprising spirit. Many a man had passed
his whole life in the Ukraine, and could not boast that he
had iseen Sich; Skshetuski felt therefore as if he had joined
the brotherhood and not many of the nobility ventured to
do that at this time. The days of Lamka Zboroski were past
and would never return. The enmity between Sich and the
Commonwealth which had arisen in the time of Nalevayka
and Pavluk had never ceased but had increased every year;
and the influx of the nobility, Poles as well as Russians, to
Sich, people who resembled the Nijovs both in language and
in faith, had become much smaller. Men like Bulyhov Kurt-
zevich had- not many imitators. What now impelled the
nobles to seek brotherhood in Nij was chiefly misfortune,
banishment; in one word, crimes that could not be pardoned.
Therefore, an impenetrable secrecy, dense as the mist over

I04

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

the Dnieper, covered the robber land of Nij. Wonders were
told of it, and Skshetuski was curious to see it with his own
eyes.

He did not surmise (what is true) that he would be de-
tained there. An ambassador was an ambassador, especially
when he came from Prince Yeremy.

These thoughts filled his mind as he looked out of the
window of his quarters upon the market-place. Thus he
passed hour after hour when it suddenly seemed to him that
he saw two well-known figures going directly towards the
alley where the Wallachian I>opula had his shop.

He looked more closely; it was Zagloba and Bohun. They
walked arm in arm, and disappeared behind the dark door
above which hung a sign, showing that it was a drinking
place.

The lieutenant was astonished, both at the presence of
Bohun in Chigrin and also at his friendship with Zagloba.

"Jendzian, come here,^^ he called to his servant. The boy
appeared in the doorway of the adjoining room.

"See here, Jendzian, go into the wineshop with the sign
on it, over there. You will see there a fat nobleman with a
hole in his forehead; tell him that somebody wishes to see him
about a matter of great importance. If he asks who it is,
however, do not tell.''

Jendzian hastened away, and in a few minutes the lieu-
tenant saw him returning, with Zagloba.

"Well, met," said Skshetuski, as the nobleman appeared at
the door of the room. "Have you forgotten me?"

"Forgotten you! May the Tartars melt me down to tallow
and make candles out of me for their mosques if I have for-
gotten you. Only a few months ago, you and Chaplinski
opened the door at Dopula's which I was very glad to see;
because I had escaped from prison in Stambtd in the same
manner. And what is Pan Podbipyenta, Povsinoga of the
coat-of-amis Torn-breeches doing now, with his innocence
and his sword? Are the sparrows still perching on his head,
mistaking him for a withered tree?

"Pan Podbipyenta is well and sends you his regards."

"He is a very rich nobleman, but frightfully stupid; if
he should cut off three such heads as his own, they would
only amount to one and a-half. Phew! how warm it is, al-
though it is only March. One's tongue cleaves to the palate."

"I have an excellent brand. Take a glass."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

105

"A fool refuses when a wise man offers. The army barber-
surgeon has just advised me to drink mead, to drive melan-
choly from my brain. For bad times are coming to the no-
bility,— days of wrath and calamity. Chaplinski has perished
from fear; he no longer comes to Dopula's because the Cos-
sack veterans drink here. 1 alone cary a brave front and am
good friends with several officers, although the command
stinks of tar. The mead is good, excellent! Where did you
get it?"

"In Lubni. Are there many veterans here?"

"Who is not here? Fedor Yokubovich is here, the veteran
Philon Dzyedziala, Daniel Nechay and with them the eye
in their head, Bohun, who has been my friend since the time
when I drank with him till he fell under the table; when I
promised him that I would adopt him. Chigrin stinks of
them while waiting to see which side they shall take; for
they do not dare to go over openly to Khmyelnitski. If they
do not do it, it will be due to me."

"How's that?"

"When I drink with them, I entice them over to the Com-
monwealth and persuade them to be faithful. If the King
does not give me a starostship for that, then there is no jus-
tice left in the Commonwealth; no reward for services; and
it would be truly better to hide behind the stove than to
sacrifice one's head pro bono publico."

"You would do better to sacrifice your head in fighting
against them; it seems to me that you are throwing away your
money. You will not gain them this way."

"I, throw my money away? What do you take me for?
Is it not enough that I associate with fools without paying
for them too. 1 consider it a favor when I allow them to pay
for me."

"And Bohun, what is he doing here?"

"He? He listens to hear what is being said about Sich just
like the rest. That is why he came here. He is the spoiled
darling of all the Cossacks. They flatter him like monkeys.
One thing is sure; the regiment of Pereyaslav follows him,
and not Loboda. And who knows whom Kshechovski's
troops will follow. Bohun is on intimate terms with the
Nijovs when he fights with the Turks or the Tartars; but
now he is making other calculations, for he confessed to me,
when we were carousing, that he loves a noblewoman and is
going to marry her. That is why it does not suit him just

io6 ^^^^^ Pi^^ ^^^ sWokD.

before his marriage to be on too friendly a footing with the
peasants. That is why he wishes me to adopt him and to
bring him into the nobility. Your wine is excellent!"

"Take some more, do!"

"I will! I will! one does not find such a brand at ordinary
inns."

"Did you not ask what the young lady^s name was whom
Bohun wishes to marry."

"Good sir, what do I care about her name. I only know
that when I put horns on Bohun's head, she will be the doe."

The lieutenant could scarce restrain himself from giving
Zagloba a blow in the mouth with his fist; the latter, however,
noticed nothing, and continued speaking:

"In my young days, I was a great lady killer. Shall I tell
you how 1 came to receive the palm in Galatz? Do you see
this hole in my forehead? Enough, if I tell you that it was
made by the eunuchs in the seraglio of a pasha there."

"You told me it was made by the bullet of a robber."

"Did I say that? Well, I was right. Every Turk is a
robber, so help me God."

There conversation was interrupted by the entrance of
Zatsvilikhovski:

"Well, lieutenant," said the old standard-bearer. "The
boats are ready. The boatmen are trusty people. Get away
in God's name, and at once. Here are the letters."

"I will give my orders for my men to go to the shore at
once."

"And where are you going?" asked Zagloba.

"To Kudak."

"It will be pretty warm for you there."

But the lieutenant did not hear the prophecy, for he had
left the room and stepped out in the market-place, where
his men were standing by their horses ready to start.

"To horse and down the river," commanded Skshetuski.
"G^t the horses on board and wait for me!"

Meanwhile the old standard-bearer was saying to Zagloba:

"I hear that you are now making up to the Cossack officers
and drinking with them."

"Pro bono publico, Lieutenant."

"You have a versatile genius, and truly more wit than
sense of shame. You wish to bind the Cossacks to you in
their cups in order that they may be your friends in case of

WITB FItiE AND 8W0LD. 107

"And If I, the martyr of the Turks, have no wish to be-
come a martyr of the Cos8a<?ks, it would not be strange; for
two mushrooms spoil the best larshch/ and as for the feel-
ing of shame, I invite no one to drink with me — I enjoy it
alone and God grant that it tastes no worse than this mead.
Merit like oil, must always rise to the top."

At this moment Skshetuski returned.

"The men are already gone/' said he.

Zatsvilikhovski poured out some wine.

"Here's to a happy journey/' he said.

"And a safe return," added Zagloba.

"You will have a pleasant voyage; for the water is remark-
ably high."

"Sit down, good sir, let us drink the rest, the tankard is
not large."

They sat down and drank.

"You will see a remarkable country," said Zatsvilikhovski,
"and greet Pan Grodzitski in Kudak! Ah, what a soldier that
is! He lives at the end of the world, far away from the
eyes of the hetman and yet maintains perfect order — would
to God it was so in the whole Commonwealth. I know Ku-
dak and the Porog. In the old times, I often went there
and it makes me sad at heart to think that has all passed,
disappeared, and now. ..."

The ensign here leaned his milk-white head upon his hand
and fell into deep thought. There was silence. One heard
only the stamping of the horses' hoofs in the yard, for the
last of Skshetuski's men had ridden to the river, to go on
board the boat.

"Good God," said Zatsvilikhovski, rousing himself from his
reverie, "and yet there used to be better times, even when
there was fighting. I remember it as if it were to-day, but
it is twenty-seven years ago that we were at Khotsim as the
hussars under Lubomirski went to attack the janissaries.
The Cossacks, behind their earthworks, threw their caps up
in the air and cried to Sahaydach so that the ground trembled
under their feet, 'We will go to death with the Poles!' and to-
day— Nij, which ought to be the bulwark of Christianity
lets the Tartars into the boundaries of the Commonwealth
only in order to attack them when they are on their return
home with booty. To-day it is worse; to-day Khmyelnitski

'A Bonr Polish soup.

108 "WiTH FIRE AND 8W0RD,

unites with the Tartars, and, together with them, will mur-
der the Christians. ..."

"Let us drink to these sorrows," interrupted Zagloba, "this
is an excellent brand."

"God give me a speedy death that I may not see the civil
war," continued the old ensign, "the universal sin shall be
washed clean in blood, but it will not be the blood of re-
demption; for here, brother will put brother to death. Who
are the inhabitants of Nij?" Kussians! And who those in
the army of Prince Yeremy? And those in the service of the
lords? Kussians! And how many of . them are there in the
royal camp? And I myself — what am I? Oh, unhappy
Ukraine! the heathens of the Crimea will place chains on
thy neck; in the Turkish galleys thou wilt row!"

"Do not mourn so, ensign," said Skshetuski, "or our eyes
will overflow. Perhaps we may yet have bright sunshine."

The sun just went down and its last beams fell with a
ruddy glow on the white hair of the ensign. In the town,
the bells were ringing for the Angelus.

They went out. Skshetuski went into the Roman Catholic
church; Zatsvilikhovski to the Greek church, and Zagloba
to Dopula's in the Bell corner. It was already dark when
they met again on the shore of the Tasmania. Skshetuski's
people were already sitting in the boats. The men still carry-
ing things on board. A cold wind came from the mouth of
the Dnieper near by and the night did not look promising.
In the reflection of the fire that burned on the shore, the
water appeared blood-red, and seemed to flow past with ex-
traordinary swiftness towards an unknown darkness.

"Well, a happy journey!". said the ensign and shook the
young man's hand heartily. "De on your guard!"

"1 will omit nothing. With God's help, we shall soon see
each other again."

"Certainly, in Lubni, or in the Prince's camp."

"Then you are positively going to the prince?"

Zatsvilikhovski raised his hands in the air.

"What else can I do? if there is war, well then, let it
come!"

"Farewell, ensign."

"God be with you."

"Vive vakqve'^ cried Zagloba, "and if the water doesn't
take you to Stambul, you must take the Sultan to task. Or
drive a knot in his head! That was an excellent wine. Brrl
how cold it is!"

WITB PIRE AtJD SWORD. 109

^'Good-bye/'

"Hope to see you soon again/*

"God guide you!"

The oars creaked and splashed in the water. The boats
floated away. The fire that burned on the shore was soon
lost in the distance. For a long time, Skshetuski watched
the noble form of the ensign, lighted up by the reflection
from the fire, and a sudden sadness took possession of his
heart. The water was bearing him awf y, far from the hearts
of his friends, and of his beloved; far from a known country,
carrying him away mercilessly, like fate, indio a wild region;
into the dark future.

The boat followed the course of the river till united with
the Dnieper. The wind whistled; the oars plashed monoton-
ously and sadly; the sailors began to sing:

** O ye banks, O ye waves,
With mist and clouds o'erapread. . . "

Skshetuski wrapped himself in his woolen cloak and lay
down on the pallet which his soldiers had prepared for him.
His thoughts were about Helena, that so far she was not in
Lubni, that Bohun remained and he was departing. Fear,
presentiments, care gnawed his heart like crows. He tried
to put them away from him till he was tired, and his thoughts
grew confused and blended weirdly with the sounds of the
wind, the splash of the oars and the songs of the boatmen,
and he fell asleep.

CHAPTER IX.

The following moniing Skshetiiski arose fresh and bright,
and in a happy mood. The weather was glorious. The
waters wide expanse were wrinkled by the light warm wind.

The shores were enveloped in mist and blended in the sur-
face of the water in a boundless plain. Jendzian was fairly
frightened when he awoke, and rubbed his eyes to see more
cleariy. lie looked about him in astonishment and, as he
could see no sign of the shore, he cried:

"Great CJod! my master, are we already at sea?"

"The river is swollen but it is not the sea," answered
Skshetuski, "and you will see the shore as the mist clears
away."

"I think we shall soon see the Turkish territory."

"That we shall if we are ordered there. But you see we
are not rowing alone."

In fact as far as the eye could see, were several baydaks,
dombzes, or tumbases,' and narrow black Cossack canoes,
made of woven reeds, and were usually called caiques. A few
of these canoes were floating down the river, carried by the
strong current; others were working their way bravely
against the stream, assisted by oars and sails. They were
taking fish, wax, salt, and dry cherries into the towns on the
shore, or they were coming back from the towns, laden with
provisions for Kudak, and with wares which in the bazaars in
Hich found a ready sale. The banks of the Dnieper, from
the mouth of the Pshol on were a perfect desert only here
and there whitened by the Cossack winter quarters. But
the river formed a highway which connected Sich with the
rest of the world; and hence, the traffic was pretty consider-
able, especially when the increase in the volume of water
made it easier for the sailing craft; when even the Porog be-
yond Nyenashyts was navigable for boats sailing with the
stream.

1 Boats,
no

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. m

The lieutenant observed with curiosity this life upon the
river as his boats floated swiftly towards Kudak. The mist
had cleared; the shores were distinctly visible; above the
heads of the travellers circled millions of aquatic birds, peli-
cans, wild geese, cranes, ducks, plover, curlew, and tern; from
the reeds on the bank, there came a gabble, the bubbling of
water and the rustling of wings; that it seemed as if the birds
were holding a dieit, or were undertaking a bird-war.

Behind Kremenehuk the banks grew lower and more open.

"Look there!" cried Jcndzian, suddenly, "there is the sun
and there lies snow on the fields."

Skshetuski looked where he pointed. Truly, as far as the
eye could see, gleamed a white covering in the sunlight on
both sides of the river.

"Hallo! old man, what is that white that shines over
there?" asked the lieutenant.

"Cherries, sir," answered the old man.

In fact both banks of the river beyond the mouth of the
Pshol were overgrown for quite a distance with forests of
dwarf cherry trees. The sweet, luscious fruit afforded nour-
ishment in spring to birds, animals, and to men who had lost
their way in the desert; and they also formed an article of
commerce which was carried in boats to Kiev and farther.
At this time the trees were full of blossoms and when they
approached the shore in order to rest the oarsmen, the lieu-
tenant and Jendzian w^ent ashore to look more closely at
these woods. A powerful perfume filled the air so that they
could hardly breathe. A mass of white blossoms lay on the
ground. In many places, the little trees formed an impene-
trable thicket. Between them grew luxuriant wild, dwarf
almond-trees which were covered with pink blossoms, that
emitted a still more powerful fragrance. Millions of bumble-
bees, honey-bees and variegated butterflies flew in and out in
this sea of blossoms, which extended farther than the eye
could reach.

"Wonderful, sir, wonderful," said Jendrian, "and why does
nobody live here? There is plenty of game about, I see."

Indeed, in among the cherry trees, darted grey and white
hares, and numberless flocks of falcon and quail, several of
which Jendzian killed with his gun; but he learned to his sor-
row, from the old sailor, that their flesh was poisonous. In
the soft earth, might be seen tracks of deer and antelope, and
from the distance came sounds like the grunting of wiW-

112 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

After the voyagers had taken in this wonderful sight and
rested awhile, they continued their journey. The banks rose
higher, then became level, disclosing to the view beautiful
meadows, woods, groves, hills, and extensive steppes. The
neighborhood was so entrancing that Skshetuski involunta-
rily repeated to himself Jendzian's question: "Why does no-
one live here?" But it would be necessary for a second
Yeremy Vishnyovyetski to take possession of this wilderness;
to organize it and protect it against the attacks of the Tar-
tars and of the Nijovs. In many places, the river formed
lagoons, curves, swampy thickets, beat with foamijg waves
upon the rocks by the shore, and filled the dark rocky clefts
with water. In such hollows and crevices the Cossacks used
to hide their treasures and conceal themselves. The mouths
of the rivers, which were covered with a perfect forest of
reeds, moss, and rushes, were black with swarms of birds; in
one word, it was a wild world, desolate and mysterious, which
spread itself before the eyes of our voyagers.

The sailing was wearisome, for, as the weather was warm,
swarms of poisonous mosquitoes and various insects, un-
known on the barren steppes, annoyed our travellers. Many
of them were as thick as a finger, and their bite caused the
blood to flow freely.

Towards evening, they arrived at the island of Romanov,
the fires of which they had seen from afar, and they put up
here for the night. The fishermen who had crowded to the
spot in order to see the escort of the lieutenant had their
shirts, faces, and hands completely smeared with tar, as a
protection against bites. They were rough men of coarse
manners. In the spring they came in crowds to catch fish
which they smoked, and then took to Chigrin, CherLass, Per-
cyaslav and Kiev. Their labor was hard but remunerative
on account of the immense numbers of fish, which, in sum-
mer were actually a pest to this neighborhood, for, on account
of the drying up of the water in the lagoons and in the so-
called "quiet corners" they died and poisoned the air.

The lieutenant ^'^arned from the fishermen that all the
Nijovs who were engaged here in catching fish had left the
island a few days before and had gone to Nij at the call of
Koshov Ataman. All night long one could see from the
island the fires which the refugees on their way to Sich,
lierhtcd in the steppes. The fishennen knew that an ex-
pedition against the Poles was being arranged, and made no

WITB FIRE AND 8W0RD. ng

secret of it before the lieutenant. Skshetuski now saw that
his expedition had been delayed a little too long; the regi-
ments of the Cossacks would have already marched north
before he could reach Sich but he had received the command
to go and therefore, as a true soldier, he did not hesitate, but
resolved, if necessary, to force his way even into the camps
of the Zaporojians.

On the following day, early in the morning, they continued
their journey. They rounded the wonderful Taren Hog, the
Sukha Gora and the Konski Ostrog which was celebrated for
its bogs and for the quantity of snakes that were found there,
rendering it unfit for human habitation. Ever}' thing, the
wildness of the scenery and the increasing swiftness of the
stream announced the vicinity of Porog. Finally the tower
of Kudak appeared in sight; the first part of the journey was
ended.

The lieutenant could not however enter the castle that
evening, for Pan Grodzitski had commanded that after the
bugle blew for roll-call no one should be allowed to leave or
enter the castle; should the king himself seek entrance he
would be obliged to stay over night in Slobotka which ad-
joined the ramparts of the fortification. The lieutenant did
likewise. His quarters were not exactly comfortable; for
the cabins in Slobotka, of which there were about sixty, were
made of clay and were so small that in many of them one
could only enter by going on all fours. It did not pay to
build better ones, for at each invasion of the Tartars the gar-
rison reduced everything to ashes, and they did this that their
assailants might find no shelter or hiding-place in the neigh-
borhood. In this hamlet of Slobotka lived "foreigners'^ i. e.,
adventurers who came hither from Poland, Russia, the
Crimea, and from Wallachia. Each one belonged to a differ-
ent faith, but that made no difference to anyonp. The
ground was not cultivated on account of the danger, which
was threatened by the Tartars. The inhabitants lived on
fish, and- wheat brought from the Ukraine; they drank pa-
lanka made from millet, and occupied themselves with me-
chanical work that was valued in the fort.

The lieutenant could not close an eye on account of the
intolerable smell of horses' hides, from which they made
straps in Slobotka. The following morning before daybreak
after the reveille had sounded, he sent word to the fort that
an ambassador from the prince had arrived and requested an

114 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

audience. Grodzitski, whose remembrance of the prince's
visit was still fresh, went out himself to meet him. He was a
man of about fifty, with one eye like a Cyclops, gloomy, for
as he lived at the end of the world in the wilderness, and sp-w
no one, he had become somewhat savage, and as he had un-
limited power in his hands he had taken on an earnest and
severe expression. His face was besides disfigured by pock-
marks and sword-cuts, and wounds from Tartar arrows, which
gave a variegated appearance of white spots on the darker
skin. He was however a brave soldier and watchful as a
stork. He kept his eyes continually fixed in the direction
from which the Tartars and the Cossacks would come. He
drank only water and slept but seven hours a day; frequently
at night he would spring from his couch to see if the sentries
on the ramparts were keeping their watch and he punished
the slightest dereliction of duty on the part of the soldiers
with frightful severity. But he was kind towards the Cos-
sacks although he was feared; in this manner he had gained
their respect. When there was scarcity of food in Sich he
supplied the inhabitants with grain. He was a Russian of
the stock of those who, years before had gone into the steppes
with Pshetslav, Landskoronski and Samka Zborovski.

"So you are going to Sich?" he asked Skshetuski, after he
had taken him into the castle, and welcomed him hospitably.

"That is what I am going to do. What news have you
from there?"

"War! The Koshov Ataman has called the Cossacks from
all the caves, rivers, and islands. Fugitives are coming from
the Ukraine, and I am trying to stop them, as well as I can.
There are over thirty thousand men gathered together; and
if they go to the Ukraine and there gather to them the Cos-
sacks from the small towns, and the peasantry, they will num-
ber a hundred thousand men."

"And Khmyelnitski?''

"He is daily expected from the Crimea with the Tartars;
perhaps he has already returned. To tell the truth your
journey to Sich is waste of time for you may expect them
here shortly; for that they will come through Kudak and that
they will not leave it standing after them is certain.''

"And will you defend yourself, sir?"

Grodzitski looked at the lieutenant darkly and said calmly
and emphatically:

^T[ will not defend myself. . ,"

W/fff FIRE AND SWORD.

1^5

"I have no powder. I sent more than twenty canoes with
requests for some, but I have received none. I da not know
if they have any themselves — I only know that they have
so far sent me none. My supply will last two weeks — no
longer. If I had enough, I would blow up Kudak and my-
self rather than that one foot of a Cossack should enter here.
I have been commanded to remain here — I remain; I have
been commanded to watch — I watch; I have been com-
manded to show my teeth — I have shown them, and should
death come — we are born but once — I know how to die.''

"And could you not make powder yourselves?"

"For two months the Zaporojians have sent me no salt-
petre, for it has to be brought from the Black Sea. It is all
the same to me. I will await death !"

"We might Mearn something from you old soldiers. And
could you not go for powder yourself?"

"My good sir, I would not leave Kudak and I can't leave.
I have lived here; I will die here; and don't think that you
have fine banquets and splendid receptions in store for you
after the manner in which ambassadors are received else-
where, or that your ambassadorial dignity will be any pro-
tection to you. Why, they kill their own atamans. Long as
I have been here, I cannot remember that one of them has
died a natural death. You, too, are going to your death."

Skshetuski was silent.

"I see that your courage is growing weak; then do not go."

"Commandant," said Skshetuski angrily, "think of some-
thing better with which to frighten me; for what you have
told me I have already heard ten times, and if you advise me
not to con^tinue my journey, I see that it is because you would
not go were you in my place — ^perhaps, too, it is not only
powder but courage that prevents you from defending
Kudak."

Grodzitski did not seem annoyed, on the contrary, he
looked with clear eyes at Skshetuski.

"A biting pike," he growled in Russian. "Pardon me,
sir, I see from your reply that you can maintain the dignity
of the prince and of the nobility. I will therefore give you
a couple of caiques, for you cannot sail, the Porog on boats."

"That is what I come here to ask for."

"At Nyenashyts you must drag them over the ground for
even when the river is high, one can never get through there;

J 16 WITH FtRE AXD SWORD.

even the smallest canoe hardly dares venture; and if the water
is low, be on your guard, and remember that iron and lead are
more trustworthy than words. Brave men alone are prized
there. The caiques will be ready to-morrow. I \v\\\ have
double rudders brought, for single oars are not enough on the
Porog."

'Then Grodzitski led the lieutenant out of the room in
order to show him tlie fort and its arrangements. Every-
where exemplary order and discipline reigned. The sentries
watched day and night on the ramparts, which the Tartar
prisoners were unceasingly mending and fortifying.

"Each year I add a yard to the height of the rampart," said
Grodzitski, "and it is already so high that if I only had
enough powder, they could do us no harm with a hundred
thousand men: But without ammunition I cannot defend
myself if I am outnumbered."

The fortifications, in truth, was impregnable, for besides
the cannon, the high banks of the Dnieper and the inaccess-
ible rocks, which rose perpendicularly up out of the water,
protected it. It did not even need a large garrison. There
were in fact not more than six hundred men in the fort, but
they were picked troops, armed with muskets and guns. The
Dnieper at this spot flowed in a small channel and was so
narrow, that an arrow let fly from the ramparts flev. far away
across the other shore. The cannon of the castle com-
manded both shores and the whole country around. Besides
that, half a mile from the castle stood a high tower, from
which one could see for a radius of eight miles. In this
tower, were one hundred soldiers, whom Pan Grodzitski daily
inspected. If they saw any sign of men in the neighborhood,
thy sent word immediately to the fort; the bells were rung
and the whole garrison immediately took up arms.

"Hardly a week passes," said Grodzitski, "without an
alarm; for the Tartars come frequently like wolves, in packs
of several thousand at a time; we cover them with the cannon
as well as we can, but sometimes the sentries take the herds
of wild horses for Tartars."

"And is it not most disagreeable to live in such a desert?"
asked Skshetuski.

"If I was offered a place in the king's chambers I would
rather remain here. I see more of the world from this spot
than the king sees from his window in Warsaw."

It was. really a fact. From the ramparts one looked down

WITH FIRE AND HWORD. tij

on an immense surface of steppes, which at the present mo-
ment looked like a sea of green; towards the north, one saw
the mouth of the River Samara; towards the south, the whole
course of the Dnieper, with its rocks, precipices, and forests
as far as the foaming waves of the second rapid at Sursk.

Towards evening they again visited the tower; for Skshetu-
ski, who now saw for the first time this out-of-the-way fortifi-
cation in the steppes, was curious to see everything. Mean-
while, the caiques had been got ready for him in Slobotka
and had been provided with rudders at both ends which made
them easier to handle. The following day, in the early morn-
ing, he was to take his departure; but he hardly took any
rest this night for he thought over what he should do in the
face of the inevitable destruction which threatened him, in
consequence of his embassy to that terrible Sich. Life was
dear to him, for he was yoiing and in love, and he wanted to
live beside bis loved one; but honor and fame were more to
him than life. Then he realized that war was at hand, that
Helena, who was ex])ecting him in Kozloga, was surrounded
by terrilile dangers, that she might be given over, not to
Bohun's violence alone, but to that of the wild, unrestrained
multitude, and sorrow and pain took possession of his soul.
The steppes must now be dry; one could certainly travel from
Kozloga to liUbni. Meanwhile he had asked Helena and the
princess to wait for his return, for he could not surmise that
the storm would so soon break; he did not know that the
journey to Si eh was so dangerous. He paced up and down
the room with quick steps, tugged at his beard and rung his
hands. What should he do^ how manage! In his mind's
eye, he saw Rozloga in flames surrounded by a black howling
mob more like devils than human beings. He heard the
echo of his own steps which resounded through the vaults of
the castle; but to him it seemed as if he heard evil powers
who were surrounding Helena. Upon the ramparts, the
bugle sounded for curfew, and it seemed to him Klce the sound
of Bohun's horn, and he ground his teeth and clutched con-
vulsively at his sword. Ah! why had he forced himself into
this expedition instead of leaving i-t to Bikhovyets?"

Jendzian, as he la) on the threshold, noticed his master's',
unrest; he rose therefore, rubbed his eyes, lighted the torches,
which had been stuck in iron and walked about the room and
tried to attract his mastor\«i attention.

But the lieutenant was completely lost in his painful

1 18 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

thoughts and continued to pace up and down, waking the
slumbering echoes with his steps.

"Master? Hey, master!" said Jendzian.

Skshetuski looked at him with glassy eyes. At length he
awoke from his reflections.

"Jendzian, do you fear death?" he asked.

"Who? How? What do you say, sir."

"Whoever goes to Sich, never returns."

"And why do you go, sir?''

"I wanted to go, never mind about that; but I am sorry for
you; you are a child, and though you are a rogue, you will
not escape with all your cunning. Go back to Chigrin and
then to Lubni."

Jendzian scratched his head.

"Certainly I fear death, master, for who does not fear death,
does not fear God. It is His Will that we live or die; but if
you go voluntarily to death, it will be your sin and not mine,
for you are the master and 1 the servant. I will not leave
you on that account, for I am not a peasant of no family,
hut a noble; and even if 1 am poor, I am not without a sense
of honor."

"Oh! I knew that you were a good fellow, but I want to
tell you that if you will not go of your own accord to Lubni
you must do it at my command; for it cannot be otherwise."

"If you were to kill me, I would not go. What do you
think? That I am a Judas, or that I would betray you to
death?"

Jendzian here covered his face with his hands and began
to cry aloud. Skshetuski saw that he could do nothing with
him in this way, and he did not want to treat him too
harshly, for he was sorry for the boy.

"Listen," he said, "you cannot be of any assistance to me
and you may depend upon it that I will not voluntarily give
up my life. But you will take some letters for me to Rozloga,
to those whom I love better than my life. You will say to the
princess and to the princes that they shall immediately, with-
out the slightest delay, take the young lady to Lubni; other-
wise, the rebellion will take them unawares — and see that
they do it. I am intrusting you with an impori;ant mission,
one worthy of a friend, not of a servant."

"Well, then, send some one else; any one can carry a letter."

"And whom have I here that T can trust? Are you mad?
I repeat, if you were to save my life twice over, you could not

render me such a service as this. For I live in torment when
I think what may happen, and my skin is wet with perspira-
tion."

"Oh, God! I see I must go, although it makes me bo sad
that even this bright sash would not comfort me if your
lordship should give it to me/^

"You shall have the sash, but attend to the matter prop-
erly."

"I do not care for the sash. Permit me only to go with
you."

"To-morrow, you will return with the caique, which Com-
mandant Grodzitski is sending to Chigrin, without delay and
without resting; you will go straight to liozloga. Do not tell
the princes nor the young lady anything about what threat-
ens me; only beg that they will immediately go on horseback
to Lubni, if necessary even without taking any baggage. Here
is a money-belt for you for the journey. I will soon have
the letters written.

Jendzian threw himself at Skshetuski's feet.

"Master, shall I see you no more?"

"As God wills; as God wills!" repUed the lieutenant, and
lifted him up. "But at Rozloga you must look cheerful. Now
go to sleep."

The rest of the night was spent by Skshetuski in writing
letters and in fervent prayer, after which the angel of rest
came to him. Meanwhile the dawn began to break and the
light shone through the narrow windows. It was dawn — rosy
beams stole into the room. Upon the tower and on the fort
the reveille was sounding, "Get up!" Shortly after, Grod-
zitski appeared in the room.

"Lieutenant, the caiques are ready," he said.

"And I am ready," said Skshetuski quietly.

CHAPTER X.

The light canoes floated down the stream like swallows and
bore the young knight to his fate. As the waters were very
high, the rapids offered no danger. They arrived safely at
Sursk-Porog and passed Lokhan; a favorable current took
them "through the Raven Narrows^ at Prince and Shooter
Rapids' the canoes grated a little but they got in safely.

Finally they saw in the distance the foaming torrent of
the Nyenashyts. Here they had to go ashore and pull up
their boats, and drag them over the ground; a long tedious
business which usually took a whole day. Fortunately there
lay along the entire bank of the river, evidently left there by
previous travellers, a quantity of blocks of wood which our
travellers placed under their canoes to draw them more easily.
In the whole region and across the steppes, one saw not a
living soul and not a canoe on the river; for no one else could
go to Sich but those whom Pan Grodzitski permitted to pass
through Kudak: And Grodzitski had intentionally cut off the
Zapon^jians inmx the rest of the world. The stillness was only
bn>kon by the thundering roar of the waves a? they dashed on
the nH*ks of Xyenashyts. While the men rolled the canoes
along, Skshetuski observed this natural wonder. It was a
frightful soi»ne. Across the whole breadth of the river in a
diagonal line, were seven rooky mounds vhieh were raised
above the water. They were black and worn in clefts by the
waves which had worn holes in thorn that looked like gates or
entmnoes. The stream Wat with the whole force of its waters
on these rooks and was thrown back by them so that it rose in
its raging fury in white foaming mist, and sought to spring
over them like a spiritoii steed. Rut it was thrown back again
before it could find its way through the 0]>enings, It would
seem as if it bit the rooks, that in impotent raire it stirred the
miirhty whirlpixM, that it rose in oi^lumns in the air. and then,
exhaustoil, sank down soothing and bubbling, like a wild

1 Vunwova 2bpor&s. Kniau and Stslielch.

I20

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 12 1

beast. And then again came a noise of thunder as of a hun-
dred cannons; a howling as of whole packs of wolves; a rasp-
ing and struggling; and at each rocky prominence this strug-
gle was repeated with its eddying and its wild whirling of
water. Above the abyss screamed birds as if tiiey were ter-
rified at the sight; between the clefts hovered dusky shadows
that seemed like evil spirits.

Although the men who were dragging the canoes were ac-
customed to this sight, they crossed themselves reverently
and warned the lieutenant not to go too close to the edge.
For there was a saying, that if one looked too long at the
rocks of Nyenashyts, he would finally see something that
would make his head grow dizzy; it was also said that at
times, long black hands were stretched up out of the whirl-
pool, and seized the unwary one who ventured too near, and
that then, frightful laughter would be heard in the hollow
of the rocks. At night even the Zaporojians did not dare to
take their canoes that way.

Among the brotherhood in Nij, no one could be received as
an initiate who had not once in his life crossed the Porog
alone in a canoe. But an exception was made in the case of
Nyenashyts as its rocks were never covered by the water. The
blind singers told about Bohun that he had ventured through
Nyenashyts, but no one believed this story. The portage pf
the canoes took almost a whole day and the sun was setting
when the lieutenant got into his boat again. But to make up
for it, they sailed easily down the rest of the Porog, for it was
sw^ollcn with water, and at length arrived in the quiet "Nij-
water."

Upon the journey Skshetuski saw the Kuchkas (giant heap
of stone) and the white stone which the prince had com-
manded to be raised in remembrance of his stay there, and of
which Pan Boguslav Mashkievich had told him in Lubni. It
was not far from here to Sich. As the lieutenant, how^ever,
did not wish to enter at dark into the labyrinth of Cherto-
melik, he resolved to pass the night at Khortyts.

He wished also to come across some Zaporojians and to
send word before he arrived, that they might know that an
ambassador, and no other, was coming. Khortyts seemed to
be deserted, which somewhat surprised the lieutenant, for he
had heard from Grodzitski that it ahvays contained a Cos-
sack garrison to repel Tartar invasions. lie even undertook
to go quite a distance into the country with some of his men,

122 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

to try and get Bome information; but he could not traverse
the whole island for it was over a mile along; and a dark,
threatening night was already beginning to close in on them.
He returned therefore to the canoes which had been dragged
up on the sand and near which, fires had been built to keep
away the mosquitoes.

The greater part of the night passed quietly. The soldiers
and guides had fallen asleep around the fire; only the sen-
tries watched, and with them the lieutenant who, since his
journey from Kudak, had suffered terribly from sleeplessness.
He felt also that a fever was consuming him. Presently he
seemed to hear steps approaching from the recesses of the
island; then he thought he heard strange sounds like the dis-
tant bleating of goats. But he thought his ear must deceive
him. Suddenly — it was just before dawn — a dark form stood
before him.

It was a messenger from the sentry.

"Master, the/re coming," he said hurriedly.

"Who?"

"Why the Nijovs; there are about forty of them!"

"Well, that is not many; wake the men; rake the fires."

The men sprang quickly to their feet. The awakened fires
shot up flames in the air and lighted up the caiques and the
soldiers of the lieutenant. The sentries ran up together at
the same moment.

The irregular tread of men could be heard. They were
halted at a certain distance. Presently a voice asked in a
threatening manner:

"Who is on the shore?"

"And who are you?" replied the sentry.

"Answer, you son of an enemy, if not, I will question you
with my musket."

"His Highness, the Ambassador from his Excellency, Prince
Yercmy Vishnyovyetski, Koshov to the Ataman in com-
mand," answered the sergeant in a ringing voice.

The voices in the approaching crowd were silent. Appar-
ently they w^ere holding a brief council.

**Come here," cried the sergeant, "do not be afraid, one
does not fight ambassadors, but then ambassadors do not
fight!"

Footsteps again were heard approaching, and in a few min-
utes a few dozen forms stepped out of the darkness. By their
complexion and their low stature and the furs which they

WlfH PiRf] AND SWORD. j^j

wore, skin outwards, it was evident to the lieutenant at the
first glance that they were for the most part Tartars; only a
few Cossacks were among them. The thought flashed through
Skshetuski's mind that Khmyelnitski must have already re-
turned from the Crimea if there were Tartars in Khortyts.

At the head of the gang, stood an old Zaporojian of gigan-
tic stature, and savage, frightful countenance. He stepped
nearer to the fire and asked:

"Who is the ambassador here?"

A strong odor of gorzalka was spread abroad. The Zaporo-
jian was evidently drunk.

"Who is the ambassador here?" he repeated.

"I am the ambassador/' said Skshetuski, proudly.

"Thou?'-'

"Am T your brother that you should call me 'thou ?' "

"First, learn politeness, you boor," interrupted the ser-
geant. "You should say, Your Highness, Ambassador!"

"To destruction with you, devil's spawn! May you die like
Serpyahov, Excellency's sons. What are you going to see
the ataman about?"

"That is not your affair. It is suflficient for you to know
that your life depends upon my reaching the ataman as
quickly as possible."

At this moment another Zaporojian stepped forward from
the throng.

^^e are w^atching here at the command of the ataman,"
said he, "to see that none of the Poles approach and if any-
body comes along, we are to bind him and bring him to the
ataman, and that's what we are doing."

"You will not bind anybody who goes there of his own ac-
cord?"

"I will, for so we are commanded."

"And icnowest thou, peasant, what is due to the person of
an ambassador: and whom I represent?"

The old giant interrupted.

"We will lead the ambassador thither, but by the beard,
look, like this!"

With these words, he reached out his hand to seize the lieu-
tenant's beard.

But in the same moment, he screamed aloud and fell to
the ground as if struck by lierhtning. The lieutenant had
split his head open with his poleaxe.

"Fight! Fight!" howled enraged voices in the crowd. The

124 ^/^^ P'f^E AXD (^WORD.

prince's semenovs sprang to the help of their leader. Shots
were fired; the cry "Strike! Strike!" mingled with the clash
of weapons. A disorderly fight commenced. In the con-
fusion, the fires were trampled on and extinguished and they
were obliged to fight in the dark. They had soon become so
crowded together, that there w^as no room left to strike a
blow; knives, fists, and teeth took the place of swords. Sud-
denly from the farther part of the island came new shouts
and cries; assistance was coming to the assailants. In another
moment they would have been too late, for the practiced sol-
diers had already gained the advantage over the untrained
crowd.

"To the boats!" cried the lieutenant with a voice like
thunder. In a moment his command was carried out. Un-
fortunately the canoes which had been drawn up too far on
the shore, could not be pushed back into the water. Mean-
while the enemy started wildly for the shore.

"Fire!" commanded Skshetuski. A salvo of bullets brought
the assailants immediately to a halt. They became confused '
and drew back in disorder; some of them remained lying on
the sand, many of these were writhing convulsively, and
looked like fish that had been drawn from the water and
thrown on the shore.

The boatmen, assisted by some of the soldiers of the es-
cort, set the oars against the ground and exerted their utmost
strength to push the boats into the water, but as the rudder
was fast in the ground, it was too late.

The enemy began the attack from a distance; the plashing
of bullets in the water mingled with the swish of arrows, and
wnth the groans of the wounded.

The Tartars cried out ever more imploringly to Allah and
tried to cheer up each other. They were answered by the cry
of the Cossack, "Fight! Fight!" and the quiet voice of
Skshetuski repeating more frequently the command "Fire!"

The first gray of dawn cast a dim light on the camp. On
the land side were groups of Cossacks and Tartars, some with
their faces at the butt end of their muskets; the others bent
backwards drawing their bows. On the water side were two
caiques that were smoking and flaming from the constant
salvos from the guns. And in the midst lay the bodies of
those who had been killed, now lying peacefully in the sand.

In one of the canoes Skslietuski stood overtopping the rest,
proud, calm, with his lieutenant's stafif in his hand and his

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ,25

head bare; for a Tartar arrow had taken his cap off. The
sergeant approached him and whispered:

"Sir, we cannot hold out; the crowd is too great!'*

But the ambassador was all the more determined to seal
his embassy with blood; not to suffer his office to be insulted,
and not to die ingloriously. Therefore he stood up while his
men formed a sort of barricade with the sacks of provisions,
from behind which they shot at the enemy, who were to be
seen for quite a distance.

"Well,*' said he, "we will die to the last man."

"We will die, sir?" cried the Semenovs.

"Fire!"

The canoes were again enveloped in smoke; fresh crowds
came from the island armed with spears and scythes. The
assailants divided themselves into two parties; one division
continued the fire; the otlier, consisting of more than two
hundred Cossacks and Tartars waited for an opportune mo-
ment for a hand to hand encounter.

At the same time, four canoes came out of the reeds on
the island, to attack the lieutenant fror. the rear and on both
sides. It was already broad daylight. The smoke rose in
columns in the motionless air and clouded the field of battle.

The lieutenant commanded the twenty Semenovs to go
towards the approaching canoes which, propelled by oars, flew
like birds on the quiet surface of the water. In this way, the
firing, which had been directed towards t' 0 Tartars who came
from the depths of the island became much weaker.

They appeared to be waiting for that.

The sergeant stepped up to the lieutenant again:

"Sir, the Tartars are placing their daggers between their
teeth; they will soon make a rush."

Indeed more than three hundred of the horde, with swords
in their hands and knives between their teeth, were prepar-
ing for an attack and with them a 1 umber of Zaporojians
armed with scythes.

The attack was to be made from all sides, for the canoes
had already got to within arrow-shot distance. They were
enveloped in smoke; bullets fell like hail upon the lieuten-
ant's men; groans were heard in both boats; in the course of
a few minutes half the men had fallen; the rest defended
themselves with the energy of despair. Their faces were
black with smoke; their hands had become powerless, their
glance unsteady; their eyes blood-shot; the barrels of the

X26 ^I'^B FIRE AI^D SWORD.

muskets had begun to burn their hands, and the greater
number of them were wounded.

At this moment a frightful noise and howling shook the
air. The horde were rushing to the attack.

The smoke driven away by the movement of the crowd,
disappeared and one could see the two canoes of the lieutenant
overrun by a dark mass of Tartars, like the corpses of two
horses torn by packs of wolves. The crowd pushed, surs^ed
and howled; they appeared to be fighting with one another
and then seemed to disappear. A few Semenovs resisted still
and at the mast stood Skshetuski, his face all bloodv, an
arrow sunk to the shaft in his left arm while he defended
himself with the rage of despair. Tlis form appeared gigantic
among the surrounding crowd; his sword flashed like light-
ning. With every stroke were heard groans and howls. The
sergeant and another soldier defended him on both sides,
and the crowd drew back again and again with terror before
these three. But, pushed forward from behind, they came
within reach of the sword and fell to the ground.

"Let us take him alive to the ataman," screamed voices in
the crowd. "Surrender!"

But Skshetuski only surrendered himself to God; for he
suddenly grew pale, trembled, and fell to the bottom of the
boat.

"Farewell, little father!'^ cried the sergeant in despair.

But he soon fell also; the surging crowd of the assailants
completely filled the caiques.

CHAPTEE XL

In the cabin of the Kantarz^ in the suburb of Hassan Pasha
at Sich, two Zaporojians sat at table and refreshed themselves
with millet brandy which they continuously dipped out of
a wooden keg that stood in the middle of the table. One
of them, an old man, nearly gray, was Philip Zakhar, the
kantarz himself; the other was Anton Tatarchuk, the ataman
of the camp at C'higrin, a man of about forty years, tall,
powerful, with a savage expression of countenance, and the
almond eyes of a Tartar. They were talking softly, as if they
feared that someone might be listening.

"To-day, then?" asked the kantarz.

"If not sooner," answered Tatarchuk, "they are only wait-
ing for the Koshov and for Tukhay Bey, who has ridden to
Bazavluk with Khmyelnitski himself, because the Tartar
horde is there. The peasantry have already collected in the
square and the field commanders will assemble before even-
ing to take counsel. Before night-fall all will be ready/'

"H'm — it may be bad," grunted old Philip Zakhar.

"Listen, kantarz, you saw that I received a letter?"

"Certainly I saw it, for I myself caried the letter to the
Koshov, and I am educated. They found three letters with
the Poles, one to the Koshov himself, another for you, the
third to the young Barabash. That is already known' to
everyone in Sich."

"And do you know who wrote them?"

"The prince wrote to the Koshov, for his seal was on the
letter. Who your correspondent was, I do not know."

"God preserve us."

"If they do not point you out openly as a friend of the
Poles, nothing will happen."

"God preserve us!' 'repeated Tatarchuk.

"You appear to have a guilty conscience."

'Tooh! I have no reason to have a guilty conscience."

"Perhaps the Koshov will destroy all the letters, for he

1 Inspector of weights and measures at Sich.

127

128 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

himself is concerned. lie received a letter as well as you.*

"Perhaps/'

"If you are guilty, then. ..." Here the old kantarz
lowered his voice.

"Fly!"

"But how, where, whither?" asked Tatarchuk uneasily.
"The Koshov has placed guards on all the islands that no
one may go over to tlie Poles and tell them what is going on."
In Bazavluk the Tartars are keeping watch; no fish can
swim past; no hird fly across."

"Well then, hide yourself in Sich as well as you can."

"They will find nie. My only chance is for you to hide
me under the barrels in the bazaar. You will pretend you
are my relation."

"I would not hide my own mother's son. If you are afraid
of death, get drunk; when you are drunk, you will not feel
it."

"And perhaps there is actuallv nothing in the letters."

"Perhaps "

"Alas! Alas!" said Tatarchuk. "I feel I am not guilty,
I am a good Cossack and an enemy of the Poles but even
if there wasn't anything in the letter, the devil knows what
the Pole might say about it. He can destroy me."

"He is a shrewd Pole; he will say nothing."

"Did you go to sec him to-day?"

"Yes, I smeared his wounds with tar; I poured gorzalka
and ashes down his throat; he will got well; he is a shrewd
Pole. They say that before he was taken prisoner he cut up
the Tartars like swine at Khortyts. Have no uneasiness about
the Pole."

A muffleil sound of kettle-drums beating in the Koshov
square interrupted the conversation. When Tatarchuk
heard them, he sprang up startled. An unusual restlessness
found expression in his face and movements.

"That is the call for the council to assemble," said he,
trying painfully to catch his breath. "God help mo, you,
Philip, say nothing about what I told you; God be with me."

Then Tatarchuk seized the keg containing the gorzalka,
carried it to his mouth with both hands, and drank and drank
as if he would drink himself to death.

"Let us go," said the kantarz. The sound of the kettle-
drums grew louder.

They went out: the quarter Hassan Pasha was separated

WITH FtRE AND SWORD.

1^^

from the square only by a wall which surrounded the camp
proper and by the gate with a high bastion from which the
mouths of the cannon looked forth. In the middle of the
quarter, stood the house of the kantarz and the cottages
of the market atamans. Around the tolerably extensive
square stood booths, in which were articles for sale. These
were mostly miserable structures hammered together out of
oak planks, such as abounded about Khortyts, and were
covered with branches and rushes. The cottages themselves,
not excepting that of the kantarz, looked more like arbors,
for only their roofs rose above the ground. These roofs were
black and smoky, for when they made a fire in the cottage,
the smoke escaped not only by an opening in the roof but
also through the whole thatch, and one might have imagined
that it was not a cottage but a pile of branches and rushes
in which tar was being burned. It was perfectly dark in
these cabins and that was why a- fire, made of oak shavings
and pitch pine was kept continually burning. There were
some dozens of these shop booths; they were divided into
camp booths i. e., those that belonged to the camp, and
booths for strangers in whieli, in times of peace, the Tar-
tars and Wallachs sometimes carried on business, the first
trading in furs. Oriental stuffs, weapons and every 'kind of
booty; the others chiefly in wine. But the booths for stran-
gers were seldom occupied, for business frequently changed
into robbery in this wild nest; and neither the kantarz nor
the market atamans could restrain the crowd. Between the
booths, s' od thirty-eight camp wine-shops, and, before them
lay constantly in the niid»st of mud, shavings, litter, and
horse-manure, Zaporojians, dt^ad drunk, some in a deep sleep,
others foaming at the moutli in convulsions or attacks of de-
lirium. Others again half-drunk, howled Cossack songs,
fought or kissed each other, cursing the fate of the Cossacks,
or weeping about the Cossack misery and treading on the
heads and bodies of those who were lying around them. It
was only when an expedition against the Tartars or against
Russia was determined upon that abstinence was enjoined,
and then, drunkenness among the soldiers was punished with
death; but in ordinary times almost everybody got drunk,
the kantarz, the market ataman; the buyer and the seller.
The sour smell of impure vodka in conjunction with the
odors of pitch, fish, smoke, and horse-hides filled the air of
the entire suburb, which by the varied colors of its little
9

1^0 ^^^^'^ >'/^^ ^^^ SWORD.

shops reminded one of the wretched Turkish or Tartar vill-
ages. In these booths could l)e found all kinds of things that
had been stolen in the Crimea, or WaHachia, or on the coast
of Anatolia. Oriental stuifs of gay colors, trimmings, gold
embroidered stuffs, gold lace, cloth, lace, ticking, and linen,
guns, bits of iron, skins, furs, dried fish, cherries, and Tur-
kish sweetmeats; church vessels, brans crescents, that had
been stolen from the minarets, and gilt crosses snatched from
church altars, powder, fire-arms, spears and saddles, and
among this confusion of objects and colors men moved hither
and thither clothed in the remains of the most varied of
garments; in summer, ])erfoctly naked, always half savage,
blackened by smoke, covered with mud, full of dripping
wounds from the bites of the huge mosquitoes which flew
in myriads over the Chertomelik and, as already said, always
drunk.

At this moment, the whole of Hassan Pasha was more
crowded with people than usual, booths and wine-shops were
closed, everyone hastened to the public square of Sich upon
which the council was to be held. Philip Zakar and Anton
Tatarchuk went with the rest, but the latter hesitated, walked
slowly and let the crowd get ahead of him. An ever-increas-
ing unrest showed itself upon his countenance. Meanwhile
they crossed the bridge over the moat; then through the gate,
they passed by thirty-eight large wooden buildings. These
were storehouses, a sort of military ])arracks, in which the
(.•ossacks lived. These barracks, all of the same size and
width, differed in nothing but in names whi<*h they had bor-
rowed from different towns of the Ukraine from which regi-
ments also took their names. In one corner of the square,
was the town hall where atamans held meetings under the
direction of the Koshov; the crowd however or the so-called
"Community" held council in the open air, sending deputa-
tions continually to the atamans, and even sometimes for-
cing their way into the town hall and terrorizing the assem-
bled councillors.

A great crowd had already gathered on the square; for
shortly before the Koshov Ataman had called together to Sich
all the warriors that were dispersed over the islands, streams,
and pastures. The community of members was therefore
larger than usual. As the sun was declining several of the
barrels were set on fire; here and there were kegs of vodka
which each camp had caused to be distributed, and which

WITH FIRE AXD SWORD. • 131

added no little energy to the councils. The Esauls watched
over the discipline in the two camps; they were provided with
stout iron sticks to keep the members of the councils within
bounds, and carried pistols to defend their own lives which
were often in danger.

Philip Zakhar and Tatarchuk went straight to the town-
hall, for the one as kantarz and the other as camp ataman
had the right to sit among the elders. In the council cham-
ber was only a small table before which the military secretary
sat. The atamans and the Koshovs took their seats on the
skins by the walls. At that time the places were not all
occupied. The Koshovs were striding up and down the room;
the camp generals however stood in small groups and spoke
in low tones, often interrupting their conversation by loud
curses. Tatarchuk noticed that even his acquaintances and
friends acted as if they did not see him and he stepped over
to young Barabash who was in about the same position as
he was. Others looked at them askew, which made no great
dilTerence to young Barabash as he did not rightly under-
stand what the whole business meant. He was a man of
remarkable beauty and extraordinary strength, to which at-
tributes he owed his position as camp ataman, for otherwise
he was noted in Sich for his stupidity. It had won him the
name of the "silly Ataman," and the privilege of arousing the
ridicule of the elders at every word that he spoke.

"Only a little while and then we shall perhaps be thrown
into the water with a rope around our necks," whispered
Tatarchuk.

"And why?" asked Barabash.

"Then you don't know anything about the letters?"

"What in thunder! What letters have 1 written?"

"See, how they are looking askew at us?"

"Oh! If 1 could only f:;vi at one of them by the throat
then he would not be able to either see or hear."

Then cries were heard from the outside; something must
have happened. The door of the council-room opened wide;
Khmyelnitski and Tukhay Bey stepped in. They were both
greeted heartily. Only a few months before, Tukhay Bey
as the fiercest of the Murzas and the terror of the Nijovs, was
the object of the most furious hatred in Sich — now the
brotherhood threw their caps in the air at sight of him and
looked upon him as a good friend of Khmyelnitski and of
the Zaporojians.

132 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Tukhay Bey stepped in first, Khinyelnitski following, with
his baton in his hand as hetman of the Zaporojian forces.
He had been clothed with all his dignity fronti the time when
he went to the Crimea and demanded the assistance of troops
from the Khan. The crowd upon his return had enthu-
siastically carried him on their shields, and breaking open
the army treasury, had brought him the staff of Commander,
also the colors and seal which were usually carried before
the hetman. lie had changed very much; one could see that
he bore in himself the terrible power of the whole of Zaporoj.
He was no longer the injured Khmyelnitski who fled to Sich
across the Wild Lands; he was Klimyelnitski, the hetman,
the sanguinary spirit, the giant who wished to revenge his
own injuries on millions. And yet he had not broken his
chains; he had (mly laden himself with new and heavier
ones, as was evident by his relations with Tukhay Bey. This
Zaporojian hetman occupied in the hearts of his soldiers a
secondary position to the Tartar. He bore the latter's over-
bearing manner with humility and endured his unspeakably
contemptuous treatment. It was the relation between a vas-
sal and his lord. But it could not be otherwise. Khmyel-
nitski owed his whole importance among the Cossacks to the
Tartars and to the favor of the Khan whose reprcvsentative
was wild, unbridled Tukhay Bey. But Khmyelnitski under-
stood how to combine the pride which threatened to burst
its bounds with humility, as he knew how to combine courage
and cunning. He was Imth lion and fox; eagle and snake.
For the first time since the Cossack kingdom had arisen, a
Tartar played the part of master in Sich, evil times had
come. The commune threw their caps in the air at the sight
of a Pagan — such times had come!

The council began; Tukhay Bey took his seat in the midst
of a high heap of furs. He crossed his legs, tailor fashion,
and began to munch dried sunflower seeds and to spit the
husks before him over the floor. At his right sat Khmyel-
nitski with his field-marshars baton. At the left, the Ko-
shavs and the atamans, and farther off, about the walls the
deputation from the Commune. The conversation ceased;
only from outside, like the noise of waves, sounded the dull
murmur of the crowd which was conferring in the open air.
Khymelnitski arose and said:

"Worthy sirs, with the permission, with the favor and aid
of the illustrious *Czar of the Crimea, of the Lord over many

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 133

peoples, of the relative of the heavenly bodies; with the per-
mission of the gracious King of Poland, Vladislav, our Mas-
ter, and with the trusty assistance of the valiant army of the
Zaporojians; confiding in our innocence and the justice of
God, we desire to avenge the frightful and cruel dishonor
that we suffered like Christians and as long as we were able,
from the dishonorable Poles, the commissioners, the starosts,
and the landed proprietors, from the entire nobility and from
the Jews. On account of this dishonor, you, wortJiy Sirs,
and the whole of tlie army of the Zaporojians have already
wept many tears, and for that reason you have placed the
commanderVstaff in my hand, that 1 may the more readily
undertake to vindicate our innocence and to obtain privileges
for the whole army. I consider it a great privilege, my
worthy sirs, and on that account I wont to the illustrious
Czar to implore liis assistance, which he has granted us.
Joyful, and coniident of better things, I was not a little sad-
dened when 1 was told that there were traitors among us
in communication with the dishonorable Poles, and giving
them information about our preparations for war. If this
is true, they shall be punished according to your good will
and pleasure, worthy sirs; and we pray you to listen to these
letters which a messenger from our enemy. Prince Vishnyo-
vyetski has brought, not as an ambassador but as a spy, who
seeks to spy upon our preparations for war and betray them
to the Poles as well as the fact that we have Tukhay Bey's
assistance: You must also be the judges whether he shall be
punished in the same manner as those to whom he brought
the letters, about whom our Koshov, as my faithful friend,
and the friend of Tukhay Bey and of the whole army, gave
us immediate information.''

Khmyelnitski stopped speaking; the noise outside gradu-
ally increased; the military secretary began to read aloud
the letter of the prince to the Koshov Ataman, which began
with these words. "We, by God's grace. Prince and Lord in
Lubni, Khorol, Pshyluts, Iladziats, etc., Russian Voyevoda,
etc., Starosta, etc,'' The letter was purely official. The
prince having heard that forces liad been gathered together
from the caves, etc., asked tlie ataman if it was true and de-
manded him at once, for the sake of the peace of Christen-
dom, to put a stop to it; and should Khmyelnitski stir up
Sich he wished him to be delivered up to the commissioners
upon their demand. The second letter was from Pan Grod-

1^4 ^^^^^ ^'^^^^' AND SWORD,

zitski, also to the chief ataman; the third and fourth from
Zatsvilikhovski, the old Cherkass colonel, to Tatarehuk and
Barabash. In all these letters, there was nothing which could
lay the persons to whom they were written, open to suspicion.
Zatsvilikhovski only requested Tatarehuk to receive the
bearer of the letter, and to give him every assistance in ful-
filling his mission.

Tatarehuk breathed freely.

"What say you, worthy sirs, about this letter?" asked
Khmyelnitski.

The Cossacks were silent. All councils began this way,
before the vodka had warmed their intellects, and not one
of the atamans cared to speak; being uncultivated and crafty
men they kept silent, chielly for fear they might break out
with some foolish speech which would render them ridicu-
lous, or make them forever after the object of contemptuous
nicknames. For so it was in Sich here, in the midst of the
greatest boorishness, tlie fear of ridicule and dread of sar-
casm strongly developed.

The Cossacks maintained silence. Khmyelnitski began to
speak again.

"The Koshov Ataman is our brother and our true friend.
I trust the atamans as I would my own soul, and whoever
says otherwise is a traitor. The ataman is my old friend
and soldier."

Then he rose and kissed the Koshov ataman.

"Worthy sirs," now sjiid the Koshov, "1 called the forces
together, the hetman shall lead them; as regards the am-
bassador, he belongs to me as he was sent to me, and as he
is mine I will give him to you."

"Worthy lord deputies, bow yourselves before the ataman,"
said Khmyelnitski, "for he is a just man; and go outside and
say to the commune that, if there is a traitor, it is not he;
he was the first one to station guards; he was the first to
command that the traitors who wished to go over to the
Poles should be arrested; go, my lord deputies, say that he
is not a traitor, that the Koshov ataman is the best of all of
us."

The deputies bowed low, first to Tukhay Bey, who during
the whole meeting had chewed his sunflower seeds with the
greatest indifference; thou to Khmyelnitski, the commander-
in-chief, and then <o the Koshovs and left the room.

Immediately glad cries frrni the outside showed that the
deputation had carried out the order.

WITR FIRE AND SWORD. j^^

"Long live our Koshov! Long live our Koshov!^^ cried the
hoarse voices, with such power that the walls of the building
stcHied to tremble to their foundations.

At the same time, the sound of firing was heard from mus-
kets and "mortars/'

The deputation returned and took their place again in the
corner of the room.

"Worthy sirs," said Khmyelnitski, as it grew a little quieter
outside the windows, "you have decided wisely that the
Koshov ataman is an upriglit man, but if the ataman is not
the traitor, who is the traitor? Who has friends among the
Poles? With whom are they in communication? To whom
do they write letters? To whom do they recommend the
person of the ambassador? Who is the traitor?"

Khmyelnitski's voice rose louder and his eyes glittered
ominously in the direction of Tatarchuk and young Barabash,
as if he would clearly point them out. A noise arose in the
room. Several voices began to cry, "Barabash and Tatar-
chuk." Several colonels rose from their places, and from the
deputies rose cries of "To the gallows!"

Tatarchuk turned pale and the young Barabash looked with
astonished eyes at those around him. His slow intellect ap-
peared to be studying for a time as to why he should be pun-
ished. At length he said:

"The dog won't eat meat!"

With these words, he broke into an idiotic laugh, in which
others joined, and all at once, the greater number of the
commanders began to laugh wildly without knowing where-
fore. From outside, the noises grew louder, the vodka had
evidently begun to heat their heads. The noise of the surg-
ing crowd increased more and more every moment.

But Anton Tatarchuk arose and, turning to Khmyelnitski,
began to speak:

"What have I done to you, Hetman of the Zaporojians, that
you should demand my death? What is my crime against
you? The Commissioner Zatsvilikhovski has written me a
letter — well? Has not the prince also written to the Koshov?
And did I receive the letter? !N"o! And if I had received
it,* what would I have done? I should have gone to the secre-
tary and asked him to read it to me, for I can neither read nor
write. Thus you would have known, in any case, what was in
the letter. And T have never seen the Pole — ^how am I a
traitor? Kh, brother Zaporojians? Tatarchuk went with

136 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

you to the Crimea, and when you went to Wallachia, he went
with you there; when you went to Smolensk he went also to
Smolensk; he fought with you good (-ossacks, lived with you,
good Cossacks, shed his blood for you, good C-ossacks — he has
suffered hunger in your company, good Cossacks, therefore he
is no Pole, no traitor, but a Cossack, your brother, and if the
hetnian demands my death, let him say why he demands it,
what I have done to him. Let him say in what way I have
shown myself dishonorable? And you, brothers, think of
heaven, and give a just judgment T'

^'Tataichuk is a good Cossack! Tatarchuk is an upright
man!^^ was heard from several voices.

"Thou, Tatarchuk art a good Cossack," said Khmyelnitski,
and 1 will not denounce thee, for thou art my friend, no Pole
but a Cossack, our brother. For if a Pole were a traitor I
would not be worried and would not weep; but when a brave
Cossack proves a traitor, when my friend proves a traitor, I
am hea\y at heart, and I mourn for the good Cossack. And if
you were in the ('rimea, and in Wallachia, and at Smolensk,
your sin is still greater, if you now dishonorably wish to be-
tray our preparations for war, and the army of the Zaporo-
jians, to the Poles! They have written to you; you were to
assist their envoy to get what he should demand and tell me,
worthy atamans, what can the Pole have demanded. Was it
not my death and that of my dear friend Tukhay Bey? Was
it not the ruin of the Zaporojian forces? You are guilty,
Tatarchuk, and you cannot disprove it. And to Barabash,
he received a letter from his uncle, the Cherkass colonel, a
friend of C-haplinski, a friend of the Poles, who hid away the
documents granting privileges, in order that the Zaporojians
forces should not get them. If this be true and I swear to
God that it is true, you are both guilty. Therefore pray for
the atamans' mercy and I will implore it with you, although
your crime is great and your treachery manifest."

The noise outside kept increasing; it sounded like the
roar of a hurricane; the people wanted to know what was
going on in the council chamber, and sent a fresh deputa-
tion.

Tatarchuk felt that he was lost. He now remembered that
a week before, in a meeting of atamans he had counselled
against giving Khmyelnitski the baton of commander, and
against joining with the Tartars. A cold perspiration broke
out on his forehead; he understood that ther^ w^s no hope

V^IfH FIRE AND SWORD. 13^

for him. As for young Barabash it was clear that Khmyel-
nitski, in destroying him, wished to revenge himself on the
old Cherkass colonel, who loved his nephew dearly; but
Tatarchuk did not want to die; he would not have flinched
before the sword, before a bullet, even before a stake — ^but a
death like that which now awaited him struck terror to his
marrow. Therefore he mad6 use of the short interval of
silence which followed Khmyelnitski's speech and cried in
terror:

"In the name of Christ, brother atamans, my dear friends,
do not destroy an innocent man; I hdve not even seen the
Pole; not si)oken to him. Have mercy brothers: I do not
know what the Pole wanted from me; ask him yourselves! I
swear by Christ the Redeemer, by the Holy Virgin, by St.
Nicholas, the miracle worker, by the Holy Archangel Michael,
that you seek to destroy an innocent man.''

"Let the I'ole be brought in!'' cried the oldest Kantarz.

"The Pole! The Pole!" cried the atamans.

A great commotion arose. Some rushed into the adjoining
room, in which the prisoner was shut up, in order to drag
him before the council; the others approached Tatarchuk and
Barabash in a threatening manner. Hladki, the ataman of
the camp of IMirgorod cried first "To the gallows!" The depu-
ties repeated the cry. Chamota, however, sprang towards the
door, tore it open, and cried to the assembled crowd:

"Good sirs, good people, Tatarchuk is a traitor, and Bara-
bash is a traitor! To the gallows with them!"

The crowd assembled with a frightful yell. In the room,
confusion arose; all the atamans rose from their places; some
cried "the Pole! the Pole!" Others tried to quiet the dis-
turbance. Then the door opened under the crush and the
crowd outside plunged into the middle of the room. Fright-
ful forms, mad with rage, filled the room, screaming, waving
their hands, grinding their teeth, and spreading abroad the
odor of gorzalka.

"Death to Tatarchuk!" "To the gallows with Barabash!"
"Give us the traitors!" "To the square with them!" cried
the drunken voices. "Kill them, beat them to death!" and a
hundred hands were stretched out for the unhappy victims.

Tatarchuk offered no resistance; he only groaned horribly.
Young Barabash, however, began to defend himself with ter-
rific strength. He finally understood that they wished to kill
him; fear, despair, mad rage were expressed in his features.

138 ^^5f'/^ P^i^^ ^^V/) i^WORD.

He foamed at the mouth. The roar of a heast issued from his
threat. Twice he tore himself from the hands of his execu-
tioners, and twice those hands seized his arms, and his beard.
He threw himself this way, and that, bit, bellowed, fell upon
the earth and rose again bleeding, dreadful to look at. His
clothes were torn, his hair was pulled out by the roots, and
an eye was gouged out. Finally, he was forced to the wall and
his arms broken. Then he sank down. The murderers seized
him by the feet and dragged him and Tatarchuk out on the
square. Here, by the light of the tar barrels and bon-fires,
the real execution began. Several thousand men threw them-
selves on the victims and literally tore them to pieces. Yell-
ing, they fought to get near the objects of their fury. They
were trampled on, pieces of flesh were torn from them, the
crowd thronged around them with that frightful convulsive
movement of maddened human masses. Soon two shapeless
bits of human flesh that hardly reminded one of a human
form, were raised in the air by bloody hands. Then they
were thrown again to the ground. Those at a distance raised
a frightful cry. Some demanded that they should throw the
victims into the water; others, that they should put them into
the burning tar barrels. The drunken men began to quarrel
among themselves. In their madness they had set fire to two
barrels of vodka which lighted up this hellish scene with a
flickering blue flame; from heaven, the calm, clear, kind moon
looked down on the scene.

This was the way the commune punished traitors.

Silence had fallen in tlie council-chamber, from the mo-
ment that the Cossacks had dragged Tatarchuk and the young
naral)ash out, the atamans Jiad taken their old places along
the walls; for a prisoner had been led out from the neighbor-
ing alcove.

A shadow fell on his face, for the fire in the chamber was
smouldering, and in the half-light, one could see only a
stately figure, proud and erect although the hands were
bound with a cord. But Hladki threw a log of pitch-pine
on the fire and before long a brilliant flame rose in the air
and lighted up the face of the prisoner which turned towards
Khmyelnitski with a calm glance.

Khmyelnitski started when he saw him.

The prisoner was Pan Skshetuski.

Tukhay Bey spat out the sunflower seeds, and growled in
Bussian:

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 139

*T know this Pole: he was in the Crimea/'

"To the gallows with him!" cried Hladki.

"To the gallows!" repeated Charnota.

Khmyelnitski had recovered himself. He let his glance
wander across to Hladki and Chaniota, and they were mute
under the influence of his eye. Then he turned to the Koshov
and said:

"I know him, too."

"Whence came you?" asked the Koshov, of Skshetuski.

"I came as an ambassador to you, Ataman of the Koshovs,
when robbers attacked me at Khortyts and in spite of custom,
which even the most barbarous people respect, they killed my
servants and, disregarding my dignity as ambassador, and my
birth, they have ill-treated me and brought me here as a
prisoner, on which account, my master, the illustrious Prince
Yercmy Yishnyovyetski will demand an account from you.
Ataman of the Koshovs."

"And why did you show yourself a traitor? Why did you
strike down with }our axe a good Cossack? Why did you kill
four times as many men as you had yourself? And you came
here with a letter to me to spy out our preparations for war
and give information of them to the Poles. We know, also,
that you had letters to traitors in the Zaporojian forces to-
form a conspiracy, to plan with them for the ruin of the
whole army; consequently you are not an ambassador but a
traitor, and will be punished as you deserve."

"You are mistaken, Koshov Ataman, and you too, Hetman
who have plotted tliis whole thing," said the lieutenant, turn-
ing to Khmyelnitski, "if I had letters with me, so has every
ambassador who travels in a strange country; he takes letters
from friends to their friends, in order that they may thus
have communication with them, and T came here with a letter
from the prince, not in order to conspire a^*ainst you, but in
order to warn you against deeds which would bring frightful
evil to the Commonwealth and to yourselves, and would com-
pletely annihilate the whole Zaporojian army. Against whom
do you lift your Godless hand? Against whom are you enter-
ing into a compact with the Heathen, you, who call yourselves
defenders of Christianity? Against the kinsr, against all the
nobility and against the entire Commonwealth! You, there-
fore, are the traitors, not I, nnd T tell you this, that if you
do not by humility and oborlirnco atone for your crimes, woe
unto you! Are the times of the Pavluks and the Nalevaykas

140

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

remote? Have you already forgotten their punishment?
Ponder well! the patience of the Commonwealth is exhausted
and above your heads hangs a sword."

"You are barking, son of the enemy, in order to talk your-
self out of punishment, and to escape death!" cried the
Koshov ataman; ''but neither your threats, nor your Polish
Latin will help you."

The other atarjians then began to grind their teeth and to
clash their swords. Skshetuski, however, raised his head still
more proudly and said:

"Think not, Koshov Ataman, that I fear death — or wish to
protect my life or to prove my innocence. 1 am a nobleman
and can only be judged by my equals, and I am not standing
here before judges, but before murderers; nor before noble-
men, but before peasants; not before knights, but before bar-
barians; I know well that I shall not escape the death with
which you will complete the measure of your injustice. Be-
fore me are death and torture, but at my back is the might
and the vengeance of the whole Commonwealth, before which
you will all tremble."

His majestic figure, the distinction of his speech and bear-
ing and the name of the Commonwealth made a powerful im-
pression. The atamans looked at one another in silence. For
a moment it seemed to them as if there stood before them, not
a prisoner, but the threatening ambassador of a mighty peo-
ple. Tukhay Bev, however, murmured:

"A daring Pole!"

"A daring Pole!" repeated Khmyelnitski.

A violent knocking at the door interrupted the conclave.
The remains of Tatarchuk and Barabash had been disposed
of. The people 'wcro send in sj a fresh deputation. A number
of bloody, fierce-eyed, drunken Cossacks, dripping with per-
spiration, entered the room. They remained standing at the
door, stretched out their hands, still reeking with blood and
began to speak:

"The commune greets the elders" — here all bowed low,
"and pray that you will deliver over to them this Pole in
order that they may do to him as they have done to Barabash
and Tatarchuk."

"Give them the Pole,'* cried Charnota.

"Do not give him up,'* cried another. "They must wait!
He is an ambassador."

"To the gallows with him!" cried a number of voices.

WifU FIRE ASD SWOkD, j^j

Then they all became silent, waiting to hear what the
commander and Khmyelnitski would say.

"The commune requests and, if that is not sufficient, will
demand it,-' repeated the deputies.

Skshetuski appeared to be irretrievably lost. Khmyelnit-
ski bent over to Tukhay Bey's ear.

"He is your prisoner,'' he said, in a low tone. "The Tartars
brought him here, he is yours. Will you let him be taken
from you? He is a rich nobleman, and in any case, Prince
Yeremy will pay a sum in gold for his ransom."

"Give us the Pole," screamed more loudly the threatening
voices of the Cossacks.

Tukhay Bey gathered himself together and stood up. His
face changed in an instant; his eyes dilated like those of a
wild cat; his teeth gleamed. Suddenly he sprang like a tiger
toward the Cossacks who were demanding the prisoner.

"Begone, you oxen, you unbelieving dogs, slaves, eaters of
swine," bellowed he, and seizing two Zaporojians by the beard
he dragged them madly back and forth. "Begone, drunkards,
unclean cattle, loathsome brood! You come to take away my
booty, well T will treat you thus!"

He seized the beards of some other Cossacks and finally
threw one to the ground and trampled on him. "Down on
your knees, slaves, or I will drive you forth in chains. I will
trample the whole of Sich as I trample you. I will let it con-
sume in smoke! I will cover it with your carcasses."

The deputies retreated in terror — the terrible friend has
showm what he could do.

And strange to say in Basavluk were only six thousand men
of the horde! It is true that at their back was the Khan with
his whole Crimean forces, but in Sich itself were about ten
thousand Cossacks, besides those which Khmyelnitski had
already sent to Tamokovka — and yet not a voice of opposition
was raised against Tukhay Bey.

It appeared that the manner in which the threatening
Murza had protected the prisoner was the only effectual way,
for it at once had its effect upon the Zaporojians, to whom the
help of the Tartars was at this moment indispensable. The
deputies plunged out into the square and shouted to the
crowd that they could not have the Pole to play with, for he
was a prisoner of Tukhay Bey, and Tukhay Bey had given
orders, and was in a rage. "He pulled our beards," they cried.
Upon the square, the crowd began to repeat:

J .^ WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"Tukhay Bey is in a rage, he is in a rage. He is in a fury!
He is in a fury! And a few moments later they began in
plaintive voices to sing around the fires:

" Hey hey,
Tukhay Bey
Is in a rage,
Hey. hey ;
Tukhay Bey
Don't be angry, dear."

Soon thousands of voices repeated, "Hey! hey! Tukhay!"
And thus one of those songs took its origin whicli later echoed
like a storm wind across the whole Ukraine, and resounded
from the strings of every lyre and every lute theorbo.

Suddenly the song was interrupted for, through the gate
leading into Hassan Pasha, plunged a swarm of people, who
forced their way among the crowd and cried: "Woe unto us!
Woe unto us!" and hastened at a quick pace in the direction
of the court house. The atamans were already preparing to
leave when these new arrivals broke into the room.

"A letter to the Hetman," cried an old Cossack.

"Whence come ye?"

"We come from Chigrin and have ridden day and night
with the letter. Here it is!"

Khmyelnitski took the letter from the hand of the Cossack
and began to read: his features suddenly changed their ex-
pression; he stopped reading and said, in a clear voice:

"Worthy sirs, and Atamans! The chief hetman is sending
his son Stephen against us with an army. War!"

A strange murmur arose in the room; it was hard to say
whether it was a murmur of joy or of horror. Khmyelnitski
stepped into the middle of the room, placed his hands on his
hips, his eyes flashing fire, his voice threatening and com-
manding:

"Let the field officers go to the camp! Get ready the can-
nons on the tower! Destroy the barrels of vodka! To-mor-
row at daybreak we will set out!"

From this moment the assembling together, the councils,
the rule of the atamans, the diet, and the power of the com-
mune came to an end. Khmyelnitski took possession of ab-
solute authority. A moment before he was obliged, for fear
his voice should not be heeded by the crowd, to defend the
prisoner with cunning and by craft to suppress dissatisfac-
tion; now he was lord of the life and death of all. It was al-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^^

ways thus before and after warlike expeditions; even if the
hetman had already been chosen the multitude would en-
deavor to force their will on the atamans and the Koshovs,
and it was dangerous to oppose them. As soon, however, as
war was declared, the commune became an army who sub-
mitted to military discipline; the Koshovs became officers, and
the hetman became a general and a dictator.

For this reason, therefore, the atamans, as soon as they
heard Khmyelnitski's command, started for their camps with-
out delay. The council was at an end.

In a little while, the roar of cannon thundered down from
the gate which led from Hassan Pasha to the public square of
Sich; the walls of the council chamber trembled with the
sound, and dismal ^choes were spread over the whole Cher-
tomelik, proclaiming war. A new epoch was begun in the
history of the two peoples, but of that, neither the drunken
men of Sich, nor the hetman of the Zaporojians was av^rare.

CHAPTER XII.

Khmyelnitski and Skshetiiski went over to the Koshav ata-
man's camp for the night, and with them also Tukhay Bey;
for whom it was too late to return to Basavluk. The wild
Bey treated the lieutenant as a prisoner who was to be ran-
somed for a large sum, therefore not as a slave, but with more
respect than he showed to the Cossacks, for he had seen
Skshetuski at the time he was sent as the prince's ambassador
to court of the Khan. When the Koshov saw this he invited
him into his hut and altered his behavior towards him. The
old ataman was devoted heart and soul to Khmyelnitski, who
had made him completely his own and dominated him — ^and
he had observed during the council that Khmyelnitski
seemed quite anxious to rescue the prisoner; but he was still
more astonished when Khmyelnitski who had hardly sat down
in the tent thus addresj^ed Tukhay Bey:

"Tukhay Bey, how much ransom do you think of demand-
ing for this prisoner?"

Tukhay Bey looked at Skshetuski and said:

"You told me he was a distinguished man and I know that
he is the ambassador of the terrible prince and the terrible
prince loves his own, Bismillah!* One pays, and the other
pays — together ..."

Here Tukhay Bey reflected: "Two thousand dollars."

Khmyelnitski answered, "I will give you two thousand
dollars."

The Tartar was silent awhile; his almond eyes seemed to
pierce Khmyelnitski through and through:

"You will give three," he said.

"Why should I give three, when you only asked two?"

"If you want him, there must be something behind it and,
if it is important to you, you will give three."

"He saved my life."

"Allah, that is worth a thousand more!"

* In the name of God ; the first word of the Komu,
144

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

'45

Here Skshetuski interfered in the transaction:

"Tukhay," said he angrily, "from the princess coffers I
can promise you nothing, but if I have to draw upon my own
fortune I would myself give you three. I have almost as
much as that as commission from the prince and a nice prop-
erty besides — ^that will be suificient. But I do not wish to
owe my life and my freedom to this hetman."

"And how do you know what I am going to do with you,"
said Khmyelnitski.

Then turning to Tukhay Bey, he said:

"The war has begun; you may send to the prince, but be-
fore the messenger returns, the waters of the Dnieper will be
swollen; and I can bring you the money myself to-morrow to
Bazavluk/'

"Give me four, and I will not speak a word to the Pole,''
answered Tukhay Bey, impatiently.

"I will give four, on thy word!"

"Sir hetman," began the Koshov, "if you wish, I can count
out the monc v here. I have it here behind the wall, perhaps
even more."

"You will take it to-morrow to Bazavluk," said Khmyel-
nitski.

Tukhay Bey stretched himself, and yawned.

"I am sleepy," he said, "to-morrow before dayVreak I must
go to Bazavluk. Where shall I sleep?"

The Koshov pointed to a heap of sheepskins beside the
wall.

The Tartar threw himself upon this couch; after a while
he began to snort like a horse. Khmyelnitski walked up and
down the small room several times, and said:

"Sleep has forsaken my eyelids, I can not sleep; give me
something to drink, good Koshov."

"Gorzalka or wine?"

"Gorzalka; I cannot sleep."

"There are already streaks in the sky," said the Koshov.

"It is late; you go to sleep old friend; drink, and sleep!"

"Here's to success and happiness."

"Here's to success."

The Koshov wiped his mouth with his hand; then holding
out his hand to Khmyelnitski, he went to the other end of
the room and fairly buried himself in sheepskins, for his
blood was getting thin from age. Before long his snoring
made an accompaniment to thai of Tukhay Bey.
10

1^6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Khmyelnitski sat at the table, buried in silence; suddenly
he awoke, looked at Skshetuski and said:

^'Lieutenant, you are free."

"I am grateful to you, Hetnian of the Zaporojians, although
I will not conceal from you that I would rather thank anyone
rather than you for my lil)erty."

"You do not need to thank me, you saved my life, I have
simply repaid you. So we are quits. But I must tell you
this, that I cannot let you go until you have given me your
knightly word of honor that, when you get home, you will
not betray by a single word our preparations, our strength,
and above all, anything that you have seen in Sich."

"I see only this, that you have bought my liberty in vain,
for I will not give 3'ou such a promise; if I did so 1 should be
acting like those who go over to the enemy."

"My neck, and the whole welfare of the Zaporojian army
depend upon this that the chief hetman should not attack us
with all his military forces, which he will infallibly do if you
give him any knowledge of our strength. I know what I
have dared to undertake; I know what a terrible power is op-
posed to me: the two hetmans, your terrible prince, who,
alone, is worth a whole army, the Zaslavski, the Konyets-
polski and all those petty kings who have their foot on the
neck of the Cossacks. My God! I have not had an ea«y
task; ha.ve written not a few letters before 1 was able to lull
their watchfulness. How could 1 now permit you to arouse
them? If the entire j)eoi)le, if the Cossacks, and all those
whose faith and freedom is oppressed, place themselves under
my lead, as the Zaporojian army and the good Khan of the
Crimea have done, I hope to overpower the enemy, for I shall
have immense s'^'-ength; but before all I trust in God who has
beheld the injustice, and who knows my innocence."

Here Khmyelnitski dashed down a glass of vodka and be-
gan restlessly to w^alk round the table. Skshetuski, however,
took his measure with his eyes, and said:

"Hetman of the Zaporojians, do not blaspheme by calling
upon God and His mighty protection, for truly you will only
call dow^n upon you God's anger and a speedy punishment.
Does it become you to call upon the Highest for protection?
You, who by reason of the injustice and intrigues that
you have personally carried on, have aroused such a frightful
storm; lighted the torches of a civil war and united with the
Heathen against the Christians? For what will happen,

I WILL NOT GIVE YOU SUCH A PROMLSE.
^f'M Fire and Sword.

WITH FIRE AND r.WORD. 147

whether you conquer or are overcome. A sea of human
blood and tears will be poured out. You will lay waste the
land worse than a season of locusts. You will give your
people in slavery to the Heathen; you will shatter the Com-
mon\\'^alth; you will raise your hand against the majesty of
the throne; you will insult the altars of God, and all for what?
Because Chaplinski robbed you of your country-seat, and, in
his drunkenness, threatened you! What are you undertak-
ing; what are you not sacrificing to your selfishness? You
call on God! Truly I say to you, although I am in your
power, although you can rob me of life and freedom — I say to
you, call on the Devil for help, not on God; for Ilell alone
can second you!"

Khmyelnitski grew red as fire — he seized his sword and
looked at the lieutenant like a lion who is just about to roar
and pounce on his prey, but he soon calmed down; fortunately
he was not yet drunk. Perhaps also, he was uneasy; perhaps
a voice from his conscience called to him: "Turn back!" For
suddenly, as if he wished to protect himself from his own
thoughts, or to persuade himself, he said:

"From no one else would I have tolerated such words; but
be careful that your baldness does not exhaust my patience!
You seek to frighten me with Ilell; you reproach me with
selfishnt^s and treachery; but how do you know that I am
only seeking to avenge my own injuries? Where should I
find assistance, but in those thousands who have already come
over to my side, and who will yet take my part; who have
])romised if I only wish to avenge my own wrong? Look
nnimd you and ^e what is going on in the Ukraine, eh?
This fruitful land; this land that is our mother; this land
that has borne us: who is safe in it at any time? Who is
happy here? Who is there whose faith is not oppressed,
whose freedom is not taken from him, who does not mourn
and sigh here? Only the Vishnyovyetskis, the Pototskis,
the Zaslavskis, the Kalinovskis, the Konyetspolskis and a
handful of the nobility! For them are the starostships, the
dignities, the land and the people; for them happiness, and
gold, and freedom; and the rest of the natioTi in tears lift
their hands to heaven and wait patiently for the mercy of
God; for that of the King is of no avail! How many of the
nobility themselves were not able to endure this unbearable
yoke, but fled to Sich, as T myself have done. I do not desire
war with the king, nor with tlie Commonwealth! She is my

148 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

mother, the king my father; the king is a merciful lord but
the petty kings under him we can not tolerate; to them be-
long corruption; ihe farms; the taxes on water and on land;
to them the tolls on flour and cattle; their tyranny and their
oppression, which they practice through the medium of the
Jews, cry to Heaven for vengeance! What gratitude has the
Zaporojian army experienced for the great services that it has
rendered in numerous wars? Where are the rights of the
Cossacks? The king granted them; but the petty kings have
taken them away. Nalevayka was quartered; Pavluk was
burned inside a brazen ox; the blood is not yet dry in the
wounds made by the sword of the Zolkievski and Konyet-
spolski! The tears are not yet dry that we have wepL for the
slain, the decapitated, the impaled — and now — look here,
what is shijiing yonder in the sky — " Here, Khmyelnitski
pointed through the tiny window to the shining comet — "the
wrath of God! the scourge of God! If I, then, am to be this
scourage upon the earth — the will of God be done. 1 take
this burden upon my shoulders."

Then he stretched out his hand towards heaven and ap-
peared to glow like a huge torch of vengean 'e he began to
tremble and then fell his full length upon a bench as though
he were overcome with the weight of his resolution.

A silence followed that was broken only by the snoring of
Tukhay Bey and of the Koshov, and in one corner chirped a
cricket.

The lieutenant sat with bowed head as if he was seeking
an answer to Khmyelnitski's words, that were as heavy as
blocks of granite; finally he said in a gentle, calm voice:

"Ah! even if this were true, whom art thou, Hetman, that
thou shouldst set up thyself as a judge and an executioner?
What cruelty, what pride carries you away? Why dost thou
not leave judgment and punishment to God? I would not
defend th^ bad, I would not uphold oppression; I would
not call wrong right; but turn your eyes into your own soul,
Hetman! You complain of the oppression of the petty kings;
you say that they obey neither the king nor laws; you scorn
their pride, and are you free from pride yourself? Are you
not raising your own hand against the Commonwealth;
against law, against right, and against royal authority? You
behold the tryanny of the petty kings and of the nobility,
but one thing you do not see; that were it not for their
breasts, for their coats of mail, for their strength, for their

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. i^^

castles, their cannon and their armies this country that flows
with milk and honey would groan under the hundred times
more heavy yoke of the Turks and the Tartar! For who
would protect it? To whose protection, to whose strength
do you owe it, that your children are not serving under the
janissaries? That your women are not despoiled in disgrace-
ful harems? Who peopled the wilderness, founded villages
and towns, and ereotcd temples to God?" . . .

Here Skshetuski's voice grew louder and Khmyelnitski
fastening his eyes gloomily upon the bottle of vodka, brought
his clenched fist down on the table, but remained silent as if
he were carrying on an inward struggle.

"And who are they," added Skshetuski, "Are they from
Germany or from Turkey? Are they not blood of your
blood, bone of your bone? Is it not your nobility; are they
not your princes? And, if this be so, then woe to you, llet-
man, for you arc arming the younger brother against the
elder brother, and making parricides? Oh, God! Even if
they were wicked, if they all, as they have not done, have
trampled the law under foot; had taken away the rights; let
God in heaven and the law on earth judge them, but not you,
Hetnxan! C.'an you say that all among you are upright?
Have you never committed crimes? Have you a right to
throw stones? And as you have asked me, where are the
rights of the Cossacks, I will answer you. It is not the petty
kings that have betrayed you, but the Zaporojians; Loboda,
Sasko, Nalevayka, and Pavluk, of whom you have falsely
said that he was burned to death inside a brazen ox; for you
know well that it is not true! They betrayed your insur-
rections, your restlessness, and your expeditions, which you
have carried on after the manner of Tartars. Who let the
Tartars into the boundaries of the Commonwealth, in order
to attack and plunder them when they were returning home
laden with spoils and booty — you, you! Who — by the living
God — brought his own Christian brethren under the yoke of
the Heathen? Who set on foot the greatest conspiracy — you!
With whom is neither nobleman, nor merchant, nor peasant
secure? — with you! Who set on foot the civil war? Who
laid the villages and towns of the Ukraine in ashes? Who
plundered the temples of God? Who violated women?
You, and again, you! What do you want then? Shall the
privilege of civil war, of plunder and robbery be given to you.
Truly, you have been indulged rather than oppressed; we de-

I30 ^^'^B FIRE AND SWORD.

Bire to heal and not to amputate the putrid members; and I
doubt, if, outside the Comon wealth, there is in the world a
•power ihat would suffer such an ulcer on its body politic and
would exercise so much patience and gentleness! And as a
reward for that long-suffering w^hat is your gratitude? Look-
over there, — there is your sworn companion, the bloodiest
enemy of the Commonwealth; your friend, but the enemy of
the cross and of Christianity — no petty king of the Ukraine,
but a Crimean mirza. With his assistance you wdsh to set
fire to your own nest; with him, sit in jud<rment on your
brethren! But from this out he will be your master; you will
hold the stirrup and submit.

Khmyelnitski tossed down another glass of vodka.

"When I was with Barabash at the coui^ of the great king,"
he answered gloomily, "and when we wept on account of the
injustice and opjiression that we suffered, the king said to us:
'Have you not guns and swords by your sides?' "

"If you were to stand before the King of Kings he would
say: 'Ilast thou forgiven thine enemies as I forgave mine?'"

"I am not seeking any war with the Commonwealth!"

"Yet you are putting your knife to her throat!"

"I wish to free the Cossacks from your fetters."

"And to fasten on them the fetters of the Tartars."

'*I wish to defend the faith.''

"With the assistance of the Heathen!"

"I tell you you are not the voice of my conscience, silence
I say."

"The blood that is shed will weigh upon you; the tears of
men will be your accusers; death awaits you; judgment stands
ready for you!"

"Stop!" cried Khmyenitvski in a towering rage, and flour-
ished his knife before the ])reast of the lieutenant.

"Kill me!" cried Skshetuski.

And again silence ensued. Again one heard nothing but
the snoring of the sleepers, and the plaintive chirping of the
insects.

Khmyelnitski stood a moment, holding his knife at Skshet-
uski's breast; then he gathered himself together, tlirew him-
self back, let fall the knife, seized instead a huge bottle of
vodka, and began to drink. He emptied it to the last dregs,
and sank heavily down on the bench.

"I cannot run him through," he cried. "I cannot do it! It
is already late — day is breaking, but it is too late to turn
back — what can you judge about blood and justice?"

WITH nRE AKD SWORD.

151

He had drunk enough before; now the vodka mounted to
his head and little by little he was losing consciousness.

"What kind of justice? The Khan has promised me
troops, Tukhay Bey is asleep here! to-morrow he Cossacks
march and by the help of Saint Michael the Victor! . . . and
if . . and if . . then . . I have bought your freedom from
Tukhay Bey remember and say ... Oh that pain . . . that
pain! To turn ba^ck . . would be too late . . . justice . .
Nalevayka . . . Pavluk . . ." He finally stretched himself
out at full length, rolled his eves horribly and screamed:

"Who is there?"

"Who is there?" repeated the Koshov, half-awakened.

But Khmyelnitski's head sank on his breast, he nodded
once or twice and murmured: "What kind of tribunal?" and
then fell asleep.

Skshetuski had grown so exhausted and weak from his late
wounds and from the excitement of the conversation that he
thought he was near death and began to pray aloud.

CHAPTER XIII.

Very early next morning, the Cossack forces, infantry and
cavalry, marched out of Sich; although the steppes were not
yet stained with blood the war had begun. Regiment fol-
lowed regiment. They seemed like grasshoppers awakened
by the spring sun as they crept out of the reeds of the Cher-
tomelik and marched away over the meadows of the Ukraine.
In the forest beyond Basavluk, six thousand picked Tartar
warriors were already prepared to march, incomparably better
armed than the usual robber mob of Stambul, these formed
the allies which the Khan had sent to the Zaporojians and to
Khmyelnitski. At sight of them, the Cossacks threw their
caps in the air and saluted them with musket and gun. The
shouts of the Cossacks mingled with the "Allah" of the
Tartars and echoed in the air. Khymelnitski and Tukhay
Bey both beneath their banners rode to meet each other and
saluted each other formally.

The order of marc-h was arranged with the quickness pecu-
liar to Tartars and Cossacks, and then the forces began their
manoeuvres. The mounted Tartars enclosed both wings of
the Cossacks, the center was formed by Khymelnitski's cav-
alry, and l)ehind them marched the dreaded Zaporojian in-
fantry. Then came the gunners with the cannon; then the
military wagons, the baggage masters, the commissariat; and
finally the herders with the resers'C stock and the cattle.
After the regiments had crossed the forest of Basavluk they
dispersed on the steppes. The weather was beautiful, not
a cloud to be seen in the sky; a gentle wind blew from the
north towards the sea, the sun played on the spears and on
the flower of the wilderness. The Wild Lands ptretched
out like a limitless sea before the troops and joy filled the
hearts of the Cossacks at this sight. The great rod flag
with the archangel displayed on it was rey)eatedly dipped
to greet the native steppes, and following this example the
bunchuks and the regimental standards were lowered. A
shout of joy rose from each breast.

152

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 153

The regiments separated; the drummers and the buglers
placed themselves at the head of the army; the kettledrums
rattled; the bagpipes and the theorbos sounded and to this
accompaniment arose a song which sung by thousands of
voices echoed through the air and over the steppes.

Oh ve Steppes ! Oh land of home !
In flowery eamients robed,
And boundless as the ocean !

The pipers let go the reins, bent back on their saddle-
cloths and struck the strings of their lutes, their eyes raised
heavenward; the bell-players raised their hands above their
head and struck the bells; the drummers tatooed on their
kettle-drums and all these sounds blended with the monoton-
ous words of the song and the shrill tone of the Tartar pipes
in a strange wild music, sad as the wilderness itself. All the
regiments became intoxicated with delight; their heads
moved in time to the melody of the song, amd finally it
seemed as if the whole steppes were being stirred by the
music, men, horses, and flags.

Flocks of frightened birds flew above and accompanied the
army like a second army in the air.

At tinges the song and music were silent and then could be
heard the fluttering of the flags, the trampling and snorting
of horses, the creaking of the wagons, the screaming of swans
or cranes.

At the head of the column, beneath the great red flag and
the bunchuk, rode Khmyelnitski clothed from head to foot
in red, seated upon a white horse, holding the glittering
gold field-marshal's staff in his hand. The whole train moved
slowly forwards in the direction of the north like a threat-
ening ocean-wave covering untilled woods and hills, and fill-
ing the desert of the steppes with noise and bustle.

And from Chigrin, from the northern boundary of the
wilderness, another great wave came from the opposite di-
rection: The King's forces under the command of the young
Pototski. Here the Zaporojians and Tartars marched as if
they were going to a wedding with a song on their lips;
yonder the earnest hussars proceeded in grim silence, as if
they were marching reluctantly to an inglorious war. Here
beneath the red flag, an old, experienced leader carried the
Field Marshal's baton, as if he were confident of Victory and
vengeance; there, at the head of his forces sat a youth with

154

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

thoughtful countenance as though he realized his sad in-
glorious destiny.

The imemnse steppes lay between them as yet.

Khymelhitski did not hurry; he calculated thus: The far-
ther the young Pototski penetrated into the desert, the
farther he separated himself from the two hetmans, the
easier it would be to conquer him. Meanwhile the forces of
the Zaporojians were augmented from day to day by fresh
fugitives from ('higrin, Porlots, and from all the border
towns of the Ukraine, and these brought news from the
enemy's camp. From them Khmyelnitski learned that the
old hetman had sent his son with only two thousand horse-
men by land, and six thousand men and a thousand soldiers
of the German infantry in boats down the Dnieper. Both
divisions had distinct orders to keep within touch of each
other, but this command was disobeyed on the first day; for
the boats were carried down by the strong current of the
Dnieper and had got in advance of the division on the coast
whose progress was still more delayed by having to ford the
small rivers that flow into the Dnieper.

Khymelnitski hoped that this separation would become
even greater and that was why he did not hurry. The third
day after they set out he struck camp in the vicinity of
Komysha Voda and rested. Meanwhile Tukhay Bey's spies
brought informants; two dragoons who had escaped from
Pototski 's camp immediately beyond Chigrin; they had gal-
loped day and night, and so were in advance of their division.
They were at once brought before Khymelnitski. Their story
confirmed what Khymelnitski already knew of the fighting
strength of the young Stephen Pototski; they however
brought the new information that the leaders of the Semen-
ovs, who came with the German infantry on the boats, were
no other than old Barabash and Kshechovski.

When Khymelnitski heard this last name, he sprang into
the air as if he had been bitten by a tarantula.

"Kshechovski? The colonel of the Pereyaslav line regi-
ment?"

"The very same illustrious Hetman!" answered the dra-
goon.

Khymelnitski turned to the officers who surounded him.

"March!' 'he commanded, in a voice of thunder.

Within an hour later the train moved forward although
the sun was going down and the night was threatening.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. j^^

Dreadful redclii?h clouds were grouped together in the west
in the shape of dragons and leviathans, and approached each
other as if tliey would enter into a combat.

The army moved to the left towards the bank of the
Dnieper. Now it moved silently without song and without
the sound of the kettle drums, or bells, and as quickly as the
gviiss would allow; for it grew so tall that the regiments, as
they walked through it, sometimes lost sight of each other
and the bright Hags appeared to be floating along the steppes.
The cavalry and the wagons trod dawn a path for the in-
fantry who moved forward with difficulty and finally were
left a considerable w-ay behind. Meanwhile, darkness fell
over the steppes; the immense, red, gleaming moon broke
slowly through the clouds, but w^as ever again hidden; it
shone brightly for a few moments and went out again like a
lamp which is blown by the wind.

It was already getting towards midnight when to the eyes
of the Cossacks and Tartars there became apparent black
gigantic masses which were distinctly seen against the dark
background of the sky.

They were the walls of Kudak.

The advance guards, hidden by the darkness, crept care-
fully and gently forward like wolves or night birds. Per-
ha})s it would be possible unexpectedly to attack the fortifi-
cation which was buried in sleep. But, suddenly, a flash of
light was seen on the ramparts; a terrific roar shook the
rocks of the Dnieper; and a fiery ball described an arc in the
sky and fell into the grass of the steppes.

"The gloomy cyclops, Grodzitski wishes to let us know that
he is awake."

"The one-eyed dog!" Khymelnitski said to Tukhay Bey,
"sees in the night."

The Cossacks avoided the fortress, they could not think of
attacking it now that the king's forces were approaching,
and so continued their march. But Colonel Grodzitski con-
tinued to fire after them so that the walls of the citadel
trembled; not in order to kill anyone for they were too far
off, but to warn the regiments on the Dnieper and those
that might be in the neighborhood.

The sound of the cannon of Kudak ho-wever echoed in the
heart and ears of Skshetuski. The young kniefht who, at
Khmyelnitski's command, had been carried along in the
army of the Cossacks had become very ill the following day.

1^6 W/rZ/ FIRE AND SWORD.

In the fight at Khortyts he had indeed received no deadly
wounds, but he had lost so much blood that his life was in
danger. His wounds which the old kantarz had bound. up,
Cossack fashion, had reopened; a fever seized him, and the
whole night long he lay half-unconscious upon a Cossack tel-
ega. The canons of Kudak awoke him. He opened his eyes,
set up in the wagon, and let his glance wander around him.
The Cossack train marched through the darkness like
a ghostly procession, and the fortress roared and flashed in
the led smoke; the fiery cannon-balls rolled through the
steppes, crackling and snarling like maddened dogs. At this
sight such an intense sadness took possession of Skshetuski,
such a longing, that he was ready to die if only his soul could
fly to those he loved. War! War! and here he was in the
camp of the enemy, unarmed, sick, and chained to the
wagon.

The Commonwealth in danger and he not able to fly to her
assistance; and in Lubni, the forces were already under
marching orders. The prince with his flashing eyes is moving
from rank to rank and when he beckons with his princely
staff three hundred spears clash like thunder. Here, several
well-known faces appeared to the vision of the lieutenant.
The little Volodiyovski is flying at the head of his dragoons
with his small sword in his hand, but he is an incomparable
fighter and whoever interferes with him is as good as dead.
Over th^re, Pan Podbipyenta seems to raise his executioner's
sword! Will he cut off the three heads, or not? The priest
Yaskulski consecrates the colors and prays with uplifted
hands, but he is an old soldier, and when he cannot stand it
any longer, he calls out from time to time, "Kill! Kill!"
Armed riders bend foni^ard to their horses' ears; the regi-
ments ride forward, separate, run hither and thither; there is
a battle, war, tempest!

Suddenly the scene changes. Helena appears, pale, with
dishevelled hair and cries "Help! Help! Bohun pursues
me!" Skshetuski sprang up in the wagon, but a voice, this
time a real voice, said to him:

"Lie still, child, or I will tie you down."

It was the Zakhar to whom Khymelnitski had given the
commission to watch the lieutenant as the eye of his head.
He laid him down again in the wagon, covered him with
horses' hides and asked him:

"What is the matter ?''

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 157

Skshetufiki, at this question, came to himself; the visions
vanished. The wagons were approaching the banks of the
Dnieper; a cool gust came from the river, and the night
grew clearer. Water-birds were beginning their morning
chatter.

"Listen Zakhar, have we already passed Kudak?" asked
Skshetuski.

"Yes,'' answered the Zaporojian.

*\\Tiere are we going?"

"I do not know. There will surely be a fight, but I do not
know."

At these words, Skshetuski's heart beat joyfully. He had
thought that Khmyelnitski would besiege Kudak and thus
begin the war; but the ha^te witn which the Cossacks moved
forward made him surmise that the royal forces were already
near and that Khymelnitski had intentionally passed by
the fortress, in order not to be obliged to fight beneath its
cannon. "To-day I may be free," thought the lieutenant,
and raised his eyes gratefully to heaven.

CHAPTER XIV.

The thunder of the Kudak camion was heard also by the
forces which under the command of old Barabash and Kshe-
chovski were sailing down the Dnieper. They consisted of
six thousand Cossacks of the Line and a regiment of picked
German infantry, comanded by Hans Flick.

Pan Nicholas Pototski had long hesitated whether he
should send the Cossacks against Khymelnitski. As Kshe-
chovski however had a great influence over them and the
hetman had absolute confidence in him, he merely made the
men take the oath of fealty and sent them against the
enemy in God's name.

KHhechovski — a soldier of full experience and rich in mili-
tary laurels, was a client of the house of Pototski to whom
he owed everything; his position as commander, his nobility,
which they had obtained for him in the Diet; and last of
all, the enormous possessions which lay at the junction of
the Dniester and the Ladava, which he had received for his
use as long as he lived.

So strong were the ties which bound him to the Common-
wealth and to Pototski that not a shadow of doubt could
arise in the soul of the hetman. He was, besides, a man in
the prime of life, for he was hardly fifty and in the service
of this country, a great future lay before him. Many thought
they saw in him the successor of Stephen Khymelnitski who
had begun as a simple knight of the steppes, and hnd risen
to ]>c Toyevoda of Kiev, and senator of the Commonwealth.
It d('|)en(led on Kshecliovski himself, whether he would fol-
low the same road, upon which courage, a wild energy, and
a boundless aml)ition im|)elled him, equally hungry for
wealth as for honors. This ambition it was that had in-
duced him a short time before to seek to attain the dignity
of starosta of Lityn, and, when finally, Korbut had received
this post Kshechovski buried his disappointment in his own
])osom, although be was almost ill from envy and anger.
Now, fate appeared once more to smile on him for, as the

158

WITH PI RE AND SWORD. 159

chief Hetman had given him such an important military po-
sition he was able to reckon with some certainty that his
name would come to the ears of the king, and that was
very important, for then it would only be necessary to put
forward a request in order to obtain the privilege, with these
words so dear to a nobleman's heart, "He has made obeisance
to us and prayed us to reward him, and we, in memory of
his faithful service, grant him, etc." By this means one
obtained wealth and honors in Russia; by this means the
immense surface of desert steppes, which had formerly be-
longed to God and to the Commonwealth, went into private
hands; in this manner a pauper became a lord and could
comfort himself with the hope that his heirs might one day
take their place among the Senators.

One thing only grieved Ksheehovski, that he must share
his important oflice with Barabash, but this division was
only nominal. In truth the venerable Cherkass colonel had
become so old and weak, especially in later years, that lie be-
longed only with his body to this earth; his soul, his mind
were constantly in a state of semi-unconsciousness as is usu-
ally the ease before the death of the body. At the beginning
of the expedition, he had ' gathered himself together and
began to work actively; one might have believed that the
old soldier^s blood flowed more quickly at the sound of the
trumpets — in his time he had been a famous knight and
leader of the steppes — but soon after setting out, the plash-
ing of the oars had soothed him; the songs of the soldiers and
the movement of the boats had sent him to sleep; so that he
forgot the God's world.

Ksheehovski ordered and manage<l everything; Barabash
awoke only to eat, and, when he had finished, he asked from
habit about one thing and another — they gave him any suit-
able answer, and then he would sigh and say:

"Ah! I would willingly march to the grave in another
war but God's will be done!"

Meanwhile the conjunction with the crown forces, which
marched under the command of Stephen Pototski, was
broken at once. Ksheehovski complained that the hussars
and the dragoons marched too slowly; that they also, when
crossing the river, took matters too leisurely; that the young
son of the hetman did not possess sufficient military exper-
ience; but in spite of all this he continued his journey.

The boats floated down the Dnieper towards Kudak and
distanced the royal forces more and more.

t6o ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

At length, one night, was heard the thunder of cannon.

Barabash slept and did not awake; Flick, however, who
had sailed ahead, got into a small boat and went to Kshe-
chovski.

"Colonel," he said, "those are the cannons of Kudak.
What shall we do?''

"Anchor the boats; we will remain all night in the
rushes."

"Khmyelnitski is doubtless besieging the fortress; accord-
ing to my opinion we ought to hasten to its relief."

"I do not ask you for your opinion, I only give my orders.
The command belongs to me."

"Colonel! ..."

"Anchor and wait," said Kshechovski.

As he saw, hoavever, that the energetic German was tug-
ging at his yellow beard and had no idea of giving in without
very good reasons, he added somewhat less sternly, "The
Castellan may arrive to-morrow with the cavalry, and the
fortifications cannot be taken in one night."

"But if he should not arrive?"

"Well then we will wait even two days. You do not know
Kudak; you would break your teeth against its walls, and
I will not move to the relief without the Castellan for I have
no right to do so. That is his aifair!"

Kshechovski appeared to be absolutely in the right, there-
fore Flick did not insist any longer, and went back to his
Germans. After a while, the boats began to approach the
right bank of the river and to make their way into the reeds
that covered the edges of the river for over a hundred feet-
on either side. The plashing of the oars ceased; the boats
were completely hidden in the reeds, and the river appeared
to be perfectly still. Kshechovski forbade the men to sing,
to light a fire, or to carry on any conversation, so that deep
silence prevailed, which was only interrupted by the echo
of the canon from Kudak.

But no one on the* boats, except old Barabash, closed their
eyes. Flick, a knightly and warlike man, would have pre-
ferred to fly, like a bird, to Kudak; the soldiers asked each
other in whispers. What would happen to the fortress, could
it hold out? Would it hold out? And the thunder of the
cannon grew more frequent. All were convinced that the
fortress was repelling a determined assault. "Khmyelnitski
is not joking, but Grodzitski also is not joking," whispered
the Cossacks. "And what will to-morrow bring?"

mTB Ft RE AND SWORD, jg,

The same question presented itself also to Kshechovski who
sat in the prow of his boat, buried in deep thought. He had
known Khmyelnitski well, and for a long time; hitherto he
had always considered him a man of remarkable ability, who
only needed a field for his energy to soar upwards like an
eagle. Now, however, Kshechovski doubted his ability. The
cannon thundered uninterruptedly. Khymelnitski must be
besieging Kudak!

^'If it is true," thought Kshechovski, "he is a lost man."

How was it, that after he had incited the Zaporojians to
rebel; after he had assured himself of the Khan's assistance;,
after he had gathered forces such as no Cossack leader ever
commanded; how was it that Khymelnitski, instead of march-
ing to the Ukraine with all speed, instead of arousing the
people and gaining the towns over to him, in order to de-
stroy the hetmans as speedily as possible, and to bring the
whole country into his power before fresh defenders and
fresh forces arrived; how was it that Khmyelnitski, the old
soldier should be so mad^ as to storm an impregnable fortress
that could hold out for a year? Was he going to allow his
best fighting men to be dashed to pieces against the walls
of Kudak like the waves of the Dnieper that dashed them-
selres upon the rocks of the rapids? Would he wait near
Kudak till the hetmans gathered their forces and surrounded
him, as they did Nalevayka at Solonits? . . .

**lle is a lost man/' repeated Kshechovski. "His own Cos-
sacks will deliver him up. An unsuccessful attack will only
breed discontent and insubordination; the spark of the re-
bellion will be extinguished — Khmyelnitski will not inspire
any more terror than a sword with a broken hilt."

'''He is a fool."

'^Consequently," thought Kshechovski, "to-morrow I will
take my soldiers and Germans on shore, and the following
night I will unexpecte<lly attack his forces, weakened as they
are by the assault. I will hew down the Zaporojians to the
last man, and cast Khmyelnitski, bound, at the feet of the
hetman. It is his own fault. He might have prevented it!'*
Here Kshechovski's ambition took a higher flight. He
knew right well that the young Pototski could not in any case
arrive until the following night; who then would cut off the
head of the hydra? Who would crush the rebellion, which,
with its frighful torch, might consume the whole Ukraine?
The old hetman will perhaps look a little blank to think
11

J 62 WiT^ PI RE AI^D SWOkD.

that this should have all happened without his son's assist-
ance, but he will soon recover himself and, meanwhile, all
the rays of glory and of the royal grace will fall upon Kshe-
choski's victorous brow."

And yet 1 shall have to divide the glory with old Bara-
bash and with Grodzitski! Kshechovski looked very gloomily
before him but he soon became cheerful again. That old
fossil, Barabash, may be laid in the earth any day, and Grod-
zitski asks nothing better than to remain at Kudak, and
from time to time frighten the Tartars with his guns.

So Kshechovski would remain alone.

If he could only become hetman of the Ukraine! The stars
twinkled in the sky, and to the colonel they appeared like the
gems in his field marshaFs baton; the wind stirred the reeds,
and to him it seemed as if it were the rustle of the hetman's
bunchuk.

The cannons at Kudak contiued to thunder.

"Khmyelnitski is offering his throat to the sword," thought
the colonel, **but that is his owm fault. It might have been
different. If he had only pushed forward to the Ukraine!
... It might all have been different."

There, everything is bubbling and raging, there is powder
only waiting for the spark; the Commonwealth is mighty,
but in the Ukraine she has no power, and the king is old and
sick.

A victory by the Zaporojians might have incalculable re-
sults.

Kshechovski buried his face in his hands and sat immov-
able; the stars continued their course towards their setting,
and gradually settled over the whole steppes. The blackbirds
hidden in the grass began to call to one another; it would
soon be day.

At length the thoughts of the colonel resolved themselves
into a firm determination. To-morrow he would attack
Khmyelnitski and grind him to dust. Across his corpse he
would attain wealth and dignity; he would be the instrument
of punishment in the hands of the Commonwealth; he would
be her defender, and in the future her honored citizen and
senator. After the victory over the Zaporojians and Tar-
tars thev could deny him nothing.

And yet they had not given him this starostaship of Lityn.

At this recollection, Kshechovski clenched his fist. He had
not received the starostaship, in spite of his military ser-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 163

vices; only because he was an upstart, because his rival de-
rived his descent from princes. In this Commonwealth it
was not enough to be a noble; one must wait until one's crest
was covered with mildew, like wine, until it was as rusty as
iron.

Khmyelnitski, alone was able to introduce a new order of
things which the king himself would gladly favor — ^but the
unlucky fellow would rather smash his head on the stones
of Kudak!

By degrees, the colonel became calmer. They had denied
him the starostaship — what was the consequence? They
would be all the more anxious to reward him, especially after
the overthrow of the rebellion, especially after he had de-
livered the Ukraine, — ^yes, the entire Commonwealth, from
the civil war. Then they would not refuse him anything;
then he would no longer need Pototski. . . .

His drowsy head sank on his breast — and he fell asleep
and dreamed of starostships, of Castellans, of grants from
the king and from the Diet. . . When he awoke, day was
breaking. In the boats all were asleep. In the distance the
waves of the Dnieper gleamed in the pale uncertain hght.
All about reigned absolute silence; this silence had awakened
him.

The cannons of Kudak had ceased to thunder .

"How is that?^' thought Kshechovski. "Is the first attack
repulsed, or Kudak taken?"

But that could not be, no!

The defeated Cossacks were probably halting somewhere
far from the fortress and dressing their wounds, and the one-
eyed Grodzitski was looking after them through the loop-
holes, and was loading his guns again.

To-morow they will return to the attack, and again run
their heads against the walls."

Meanwhile the day had come; Kshechovski wakened the
people in his boat, and sent a boat to Flick.

Flick came without delay.

"Colonel," said Kshechovski to him, "if the Castellan does
not come this evening, and if the storming is continued dur-
ing the night, we will go to the relief of the fortress."

"My men are ready," said Flick.

^Then give them powder and bullets."

"That has been done.''

"We will land at night and advance as quietly as possible
through the steppes. We will attack them unexpectedly."

l64 ^iTH FIRE AND SWORD.

"Gut, schr gut!" said Flick, "but should we not rather
get a litle nearer, in the boats? It is about four miles to the
fortress, somewhat far for the infantry."

"The infantry can take the horses of the Semenovs."

"Sehr gut!"

"The men must lie still in the reeds, not go ashore; and
make no noise, light no fires, for the smoke might betray us.
We must not be discovered."

"The fog is so thick that they would not see tlie smoke."

In fact, the river, and the little bay overgrown with rushes,
in which stood the boats; and the steppes, as far as the eye
could reach, were covered with a white, impenetrable mantle
of fog. As it was, however, still early in the morning, the
mist might rise and reveal the expanse of the steppes.

Flick paddled away. The people on the boats moved
slowly. Kshcchovski's commands were announced that they
should keep quiet; therefore, the men went to their morn-
ing meal without the usual noise made by soldiers. No one
passing by the shore or sailing down the middle of the
stream would have believed that, in the reeds near by, some
thousands of men lay hidden. The horses were fed by hand
that they might not neigh. The boats lay hidden by the
mist in the thicket of reeds; here and there a small two-
oared boat went back and forth bringing biscuits and orders
from the commander; othenvise all was as still as the grave.

Suddenly, there were heard in the grass, in the rushes, in
the reeds, and in the river marshes around the whole inlet,
various strange sounds.

Putfu! Pugu!

Then silence. . .

Pugu! Pugu!

And again all was still, as if those voices that called from
the shore were awaiting an answer.

But no answer came; for the third time cries were heard
but quicker, and more impatiently.

Pugu! Pugu!

Then sounded from the boats Kshechovski's voice, through
the mist:

"Who goes there?"

"A Cossack from Lug!"

The hearts of the Semenovs who were in the boats beat
restlessly. I^hat mysterious call was familiar to them. In
this way the Zaporojians signalled to each other in winter

WITH FIRE A\D iiWORD. J65

quarters. In this way also, in times of war, they invited their
brothers of the regular regiments and the Cossacks of the
towns to a conference. Many of these Cossacks belonged
secretly to tlie Brotherhood.

Again sounded Kshechovski's voice:

"What do you want?''

"l>ogdan Khmyeliiitski, the Iletman of the Zaporojians,
announces that the cannon are trained on the Poles."

^'Tell the lietman of the Zaporojians that ours are directed
towards the shore."

Pugu! Pugu!

"What more do you want?"

"Bogdan Khmyelnitski, the hetman of the Zaporojians,
writes his friend. Colonel Kshechovski, to a conference."

"He must give hostages."

"Ten kurzens."

"Agreed."

At this moment, along side the Poles, the Zaporojians
sprang up like flowers; they rose up out of the grass in which
they had lain hidden. Far away across the steppes, their
cavalry and cannon came marching on, and hundreds of flags
and banners and bunchuks appeared. They marched with
songs and the beating of kettle-drums. All this seemed more
like a greeting than a meeting of hostile forces. The Sem-
enovs on the boats answered with loud shouts. Mean-
while the boats came along commanded by the Kurzen ata-
mans. .Kshechovski boarded one of them and went ashore.
There, they brought him a horse and immediately led him to
Khmyelnitski.

When Khmyelnitski saw him, he took off his cap and
greeted him cordially.

"Worthy Colonel," said he, "my old friend and comrade,
when the Chief ITetman of the Crown commanded you to
seize me and bring me into camp, you were not willing to do
it, but warned me so that I might save myself by flight, and
for this act I owe you gratitude and brotherly affection."

Then he stretched forth his hand courteously, but the
dark face of Kshechovski remained cold as ice.

"Now, however, after being saved, Sir Hetman, you have
become the leader of the rebellion."

"Our wrongs, yours and mine, and those of the whole
Ukraine would T redress, with the king's charter of rights
in my hands, and in the hope that our gracious Lord will
not count it against me."

l66 l»^'^''' ^'^^^^^ -^A'/J SWORD.

Kshoeliovski looked sternly into Khmyelnitski's eyes, and
said emphatically:

"Have you besieged Kudak?"

"1? I would have been mad to do so. I went past it and
did not even fire one shot, although the old Cyclops received
me with his cannon. I have urgent business in the Ukraine,
not in Kudak; and I was especially anxious to see you, my
old friend."

"What do you want with me?"

"Ride a little way with me across the steppes and we will
come to an understanding."

Tliey mounted their horses and rode away. They were
gone one hour. On their return, Kshechovski's face was
pale and agitated. He took leave of Khmyelnitski, who said
to him on tlie road,

"We two will be the only ones in the Ukraine and over
us the king alone, and no one else."

Ksliechovski returned to the boats. Old Barabash, Flick,
and the others awaited him impatiently.

"What's going on there?" they asked him on all sides.

"Pull up close to the shore," answered Kshechov^ki, in a
commanding voice.

Barabash opened his sleepy eyes. A strange fire was in his
glance.

"What?" he said.

"(jro ashore. We must give ourselves up."

The pale, yellowish face of Barabash suddenly became
crimson. He sprang from the kettle drum on which* he was
sitting, rose to his full height and, suddenly, this old man,
bowed with age, was transformed into a giant full of strength
and life.

"Treason!" he roared.

"Treason!" repeated Flick, and seized his rapier.

But, before he could draw it, Kshechovski flashed his sword
through the air and with a blow cut him to the ground.
Then he sprang from the boat into a small boat that was
lying near, in which were sitting four Zaporojians with oars
in their hands, and cried:

"To the boats!"
The l)oat darted away like an arrow. Kshechovski, with cap
on the tip of his bloody sword, stood in the middle of the
boat, his eyes flashing fire, and cried with a powerful voice:

"(-hildren, we will not kill our own people; long live Bog-
dan Khmyelnitski, the Hetman of tlie Zaporojians!"

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 167

"Long live Khmyelnitski!" repeated hundreds and thou-
sands of voices.

"Death to the Poles!"

"Death!"

The roar from the boats answered the Zaporojians on the
shore, but many in the boats that were lying at a distance
did not know what all the commotion was about; but as the
news spread that Pan Kshechovski had gone over to the
Zaporojians, a regular furor of joy took possession of the
Semenovs. Six thousand caps were thrown into the air, six
thousand muskets roared, the boats trembled beneath the
tread of the Cossacks. Tumult and confusion arose. But
the joy was to be paid for in blood. Old Barabash preferred
to die rather than betray the flag under which he had served
his whole life long. A few dozen Cherkass soldiers took his
side and a short, dreadful fight took place — like all those
fights in which a handful of men, who do not desire mercy
but death, defend themselves against a multitude. Neither
Kshechovski nor any of the Cossacks had expected any such
opposition. The old lion was awakened. To a demand to
lay down his arms, he replied with shots, and one could see
him with the field marshal's staff in his hand, his white hair
floating in the wind, giving his commands in a voice of
thunder, and with the energy of youth. His boat was sur-
rounded on all sides. The men on the boats who could not
get near sprang into the water, waded through the reeds, and,
seizing the edge of the boat, climbed furiously into it. The
resistance was short. Barabash's Semenovs lay pierced, bat-
tered, or with mangled hands, on the bottom 01 the boat —
only the old man still defended himself with his sword in his
hand.

Kshechovski made his way to him.

"Surrender!" he cried.

"Die, traitor!" answered Barabash and raised his sword to
strike. Kshechovski withdrew rapidly into the crowd.

"Kill!" he said to the Cossacks.

But it seemed as if no one wished to be the first to raise
his hand against the old man. Unfortunately however, the
old colonel slipped on the bloody bottom and fell down. As
he lay on the deck, he no longer inspired fear or respect, and
soon a number of swords had pierced his body. The old
man was able only to cry out;

"Jesus Maria!"

1 68 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

They began to hack at the prostrate form and to cut it to
pieces. They threw the head from one boat to another and
played ball with it until through a clumsy catch it fell into
the water.

There still remained the Germans who were not so easily
dealt with, for the regiment consisted of a thousand veterans
who had been trained in many wars.

The valiant Flick had fallen under Kshechovski's hand, but
at the head of the regiment there still remained Johann Wer-
ner, the lieutenant-colonel, a veteran of the Thirty Years War.

Kshekovski was certain of victory, for the German boats
were surrounded on all sides by Cossacks, lie wished, how-
ever, to retain such a large number of incomparable and well
armed infantry for Khmyelnitski, therefore he preferred to
treat with them.

P^or a time it seemed as if Werner would agree to what he
wanted, for he conversed quietly with Kshechovski and list-
ened attentively to all the promises with which the latter and
his friends overwhelmed him. The pay in which the Common-
wealth was in arrears would be paid up immediately, and also
for a year ahead, and after that time the soldiers might go
whither they would, even into the king's camp.

Werner acted as if he were considering, but, meantime, he
gave quiet instructions for the boats to pull up close to one
another so that they formed a compact circle. At the edge
of this circle stood a wall of foot soldiers, stout, powerful m,en,
in yellow jerkins and yellow caps, in perfect order of battle,
the left foot advanced ready to fire, the muskets at their right
side.

Werner, his sword drawn, stood in the front row and con-
sidered for some time; finally, he raised his head.

"llerr ITauptman!" he said, "we understand one another!"

**You will lose nothing in the new service," cried Kshechov-
ski joyfully.

"But on condition "

"Well, I agree to it."

"Well, that's all right. Our service to the Commonwealth
ends in June; from June out we belong to you."

An oath rose to Kshechovski's lips, but he held it back.

"Are you mocking me, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"No," answered Werner quietly. "Our military honor be-
hooves us to keep our word. Our service it at an end in June.
We serve for money; but we arc po traitor?. Otherwise no

WITH FlUE AND SWORD. 169

one would employ us, and you yourself would not trust us;
for who would be surety that we would not go over to the
Hetman in the very first battle."

'*What do you want then?''

"That you let us leave you."

"That is impossible, you madman! I will have you all cut
down."

"And how many of your o^n men do you expect to lose?"

"Not one of you shall escape."

"You will leave half your men on the field."

Both spoke the truth, therefore Kshechovski, although the
coolness of the (icrman aroused his blood, and fury began to
take possession of him, did not wish to begin the combat.

"Before the sun sets," he cried, "reflect, or the firing will
begin!"

And he moved off quickly in his small boat in order to
confer with Khmyelnitski.

A period of suspense followed; the Cossack boats closed in
a circle round the (Jermans, who maintained a calm bearing
as only old, practiced soldiers can maintain in the face of
danger. To the threatenings and insults which poured un-
ceasingly from the Cossack boats, they answered with a dis-
dainful silence. It was a truly imposing sight, this calmness
in the midst of the increasing ebullitions of rage on the part
of the Cossacks, who with threats, shook their lances and
muskets, ground their teeth and cursed and impatiently
awaited the signnl for combat.

Meanwhile the sun, which had moved from the south to the
west, withdrew by degrees its golden beams from the inlet.

Finally it became perfectly dark.

The bugles sounded and* thereupon was heard Kshechov-
ski's voice in the distance:

"The sun is down! Have you decided?"

"Yes," answered Werner — he turned to his soldiers and
waved his drawn sword.

"Feuer!" he commanded, in a quiet, phlegmatic voice.

A report! The splash as men fell into the water, cries of
rage and rapid firing answered the voices of German muskets.
The cannon on the shore began to roar and hurl their balls
at the Cerman boats. The whole place was full of smoke —
and amid the thunder, the cries, the whirr of the Tartar ar-
rows, the rattle of muskets and guns, the regular salvos of
their muskets alone announced that the Germans were still
defending themselves.

170

WifM PlRE AS't> iSWOkD.

At sundown the fight still raged, but it appeared to be
slackening in intensity.

Khmyelnitski, accompanied by Kshechovski, Tukhay Bey,
and several atamans, had come to the shore to observe the
fight. His distended nostrils inhaled the smoke of the pow-
der, his ears heard with delight the noise of the drowning and
slaughtered Germans. The three commanders looked at this
carnage as if it were a play, which at the same time was a
favorable omen for them.

The battle ceased. As the firing slackened, louder and
louder rose the cries of triumph from the Cossacks to the
clear sky.

"Tukhay Bey!" cried Khmyelnitski, "this is our first vic-
tory."

"There are no prisoners," growled the Murza. "I do not
care for such a war."

"You will find plenty in the Ukraine; you will be able to
fill the whole of Stambul and Galatz with your captives."

"If I find no other, I will take you!"

With these words, the wild Tukhay laughed ominously, but
presently added:

"I should have liked to have those Tranks.' "

The fight was over. Tukhay Bey turned his horse's head
towards the camp, the others followed him. "Now, for the
Zolta Wody," cried Khmyelnitski.

CHAPTEB XV.

The lieutenant had heard the noise of combat and trem-
blingly awaited the result, for he thought at first that Khmy-
elnitski had begun an engagement with all the forces of the
hetman.

But, towards evening, old Zakhar enlightened him. The
news of the treachery of the soldiers under Kshechovski and
the destruction of the Germans disturbed the inmost soul of
the young knight, for this was but the preliminary to other
treachery, and Skshetuski knew well that a greater part of
the hetmans' forces consisted chiefly of Cossacks.

The anxiety of the lieutenant increased and the triumph
of the Zaporojians heightened his misery. Everything fore-
told the worst that could happen. There were no tidings from
the Prince — and the hetmans had evidently committed a
grave error when, instead of marching upcn Kudak with all
their forces, or awaiting the enemy in a fortified camp in the
Ukraine, they had divided their forces, voluntarily weakened
themselves and laid the way open to defection and treachery.
They spoke in the Zaporojian camp of a considerable army
under Kshechovski and Stephen Pototski, but the lieutenant
had given no credit to this news.

He believed that these were only the strong vanguards
which at the right time would be withdrawn. Other things
had happened meanwhile. Khmyelnitski had, through
Kshechovski's treachery strengthened themselves with several
thousand men, and a frightful danger threatened young Po-
totski. Deprived of assistance and having lost his way in the
wilderness how easily could Khmyelnitski surround him and
exterminate his forces.

Amid the pain caused by his wounds, amid his unrest, in
his sleepless nights all that comforted Skshetuski was the re-
membrance of the prince. Khmyelnitski's star would pale
when that of the prince rose in Lubni. And who could say
that he had not already united with the hetman?? Although
Khmyelnitski's forces were strong; although his expedition

171

172 WITH FIRE AND ISWORD.

had begun successfully; although Tukhay Bey accompanied
him and, in the event of mishap, the "Czar" of the Crimea
himself had promised assistance, Skshetuski had not the least
idea that this storm would be of long duration, that a Cossack
could shake the whole C'ommonwealth to its foundations and
cripple its power. The storm will be broken on the threshold
of the Ukraine — thought the lieutenant, for we have quelled
all the Cossack insurrections. They sprang up like flames
and sibsided at the first encounter with the hetmans. It has
ahvays been thus. When, on the one hand, a swarm of Nij
bandits marched forward to battle, on the other hand, a power
that was bounded by two seas, the result was easily foretold.
The storm could not last long, therefore it would pass — ^aud
good weather come again. This thought encouraged Skshetu-
ski, kept him, so to speak, on his feet; for othenvise he would
have been crushed by such a heavy burden as he had never
yet borne in his life. Though the storm should pass, it woubl
devastate fields, overthrow houses and cause irretrievable
damage. If through this storm he had come within an
ace of losing his life, had lost his strength, and had come into
bitter slavery, just at the time when freedom meant so much
to him, as much as life itself; how would those weak ones who
could not defend themselves suffer from this storm? What
might be happening to Helena in Hozloi^a?

But Helena must surely be in Lubni. In his dreams the
lieutenant saw her surrounded by friends, flattered ))y the
prince and by the Princess (Jrizelda, admired by the knights —
and pining for her knight who had diwipj)eared somewhere
in Sich. But the time would come when the knight would
return. Had not Khmyelnitski himself promised him his
freedom — and, besides, this Cossack storm-wave would flow
on to the very threshold of the Commonwealth. Then it
would ])e broken and all anxiety, all sorrow, all unrest would
be at an end.

The storm-wave was indeed moving forward. Khmyelnit-
ski marched on without delay with his forces, expecting to
meet the son of the bet num. His power was truly formidable,
for with him, in addition to Ksheehovski's Smeneovs and tlie
chambuls of Tukhay Bey, he led nearly five and twenty thou-
sand trained soldiers eager for the fray. No positive informa-
tion had been received of Pototski's fighting strenj^th. Vwn-
tives said that he had two thousand heavy cavalry, and somo
cannon. Under these circumstances, the issue of the battle

1V/r// FtRPj AND i^WORD. jy^

might be doubtful, for an attack by those dreadful Hussars
was often. sufficient to exterminate a force of ten times their
number. Khodkievich, the hetman of Lithuania, had once,
in his time with three thousand cavalry crushed to the earth
eighteen thousand picked men of infantry and Swedish cav-
alry at Kirchholm, and one squadron of cuirassiers had scat-
tered with wild fury several thousand P^nglish and Scotch
mercenaries at Klushin. Khmyelnitski was aware of this;
therefore according to the words of the Russian chronicler, he
proceeded slowly and carefully with the many eyes of his
understanding, looking around him on all sides like a crafty
hunter, and posting his sentries at a distance of a mile and
more from the camp.^

He was approaching the Zolta Woda. Two more informers
were ca]>turod. They confirmed the report of the weakness
of the king's army, and brought word that tlie Castellan had
already crossed the Zolta Woda. When Khmyelnitski heard
this, he halted, and remained as if rooted to the spot, sur-
rounding himself with earthworks.

His heart beat joyfully. If Pototski ventured on an assault
he would be betiten. The Cossacks could not stand in the
open field against cuirassiers, but they fought excellently be-
hind earthworks, and iis they had such an overwhelming
superiority of numbers they would undoubt(»dly repulse their
assailants. Khmyelnitski depended up(m Pototski's youth
and inexperience, l)nt the younii: Cast.ellnn was accompanied by
nn experienced warrior, the starosta of Zyviets, Pan Stephen
C'harnyetski, colonel of the hussars. He a])preeiated the dan-
^rijr and j)ersuaded the Castellan to return across the Zolta
\V(tda. There was nothing for Khmyelnitski to do but to
follow him. On the following day after they had crossed the
Zolta Woda, the two o])posing forces stood face to face.

I>ut neither of the leaders would make the first attack.
Khmyelnitski's camp began hastily to surround itself with
earthworks. Tt was Saturday, the fifth of May, a pouring rain
fell, and continued the whole day; the sky was so completely
covered with clouds that it was quite dark at midday, as on
a day in winter. Towards evening the rain fell more heavily.
Khmyelnitski rubbed his hands for joy.

"If the steppes only become soft," he said to Skshetuski,
"T will not hesitate to undertake an engagement with the
hussars, for they would sink in the mud in their heavy armor.

1 Sanioil Welichk.

ly^ ^/^^ ^"^RE ^^'^ SWORD.

And the rain streamed and streamed down, as if Heaven
had come to the aid of the Zaporojians.

The army intrenched itself slowly and gloomily amid the
pouring rain. No fire would burn. Some thousand Cossacks
went out to prevent the Polish army from escaping under the
protection of the mist. Then followed a deep silence; noth-
ing was heard save the splashing of the rain and the sighing
of the wind; no one slept in either camp.

The following morning the bugles in the Polish camp
sounded long and plaintively, as if they were calling to the
attack. Then drums began to beat here and there. A sad,
dark, wet day broke. A storm-wind arose, but a fine steady
rain continued to fall as if through a sieve.

Khmyelnitski commanded a cannon to be fired. This was
followed by a second, a third, a tenth, and, as the usual "com-
munications" by means of cannon had begun between the
two camps, Skshetuski said to his Cossack protector:

"Zakhar, lead me to the intrenchment that I may see what
is going on?"

Zakhar himself was inquisitive and therefore offered no op-
position. They went to a high corner from which one could
see clearly and distinctly the somewhat sunkoii ^valley of the
steppes, the swamp of the Zolta Woda water, and both armies.
But hardly had Skshetuski cast a glance over the country
when he put both hands to his head and crierl:

"By the living God, that is only a vanguard, nothing more."

In truth, the fortifications of tlie Cossack camp were al-
most a mile and a quarter in extent, while those of the Polos
in comparison looked like nothing more than a redoubt. The
inequality of strength was so great that a Cossack victory ap-
peared certain.

Skshetuski's heart was heavy. The hour had not yet come
for the downfall of pride and insurrection, but now a new
triumph v;as at hand, so at least it seemed.

The skirmishing had already begun by the firinor of the
cannon from the elevation, single horsemen or small bodies
of horsemen could be seen in hand-to-hand conflict. These
were the Tartars, who were fightins: with Pototski's Semenovs,
dressed in dark blue and yellow. The horsemen attacked each
other and then fell back, attacked each other's flank, shot at
one another with pij^tols or bows, or sought to entrap one
another with lariats. Tho^e skirmishes, observed from a dis-
tance, seemed like play, and it was only when a riderless horse

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 175

was seen plunging about that one knew that life and death
were in the balance.

The Tartars poured forth in ever increasing numbers; the
ground was soon black with their dense swarms; then fresh
regiments came out from the Polish camp and drew up in
order of battle before the entrenchment. It was so near tliat
Skshetuski, with his sharp eye, could distinctly see the colors,
the bunchuks, even the corporals, and the lieutenants who
sat on horseback a little to one side of the companies.

His heart began to beat with excitement, his pale face to
take on some color and? as if he could find ready listeners in
Zakhar and the Cossacks who were at the cannon and beside
the corner, he cried, exultingly, and still more exultingly, the
nearer the squadrons approached the entrenchment:

"Those are Ballabans dragoons whom I saw in Cherkass!"

"That is a Wallachian regiment! They have a cross on
their colors!'^

"Ah! here comes the infantry from the ramparts!"

Then he cried in still greater excitement and, stretching
out his hands:

"The hussars! Pan Charnyetski's hussars!"

The hussars had indeed appeared, and above them a cloud
of birds, and a forest of lances, ornamented with gold tassels,
and long green and black pennants. They came riding for-
ward six abreast and pulled up before the earthworks, and,
at the sight of their calmness, their dignity, and their skill,
tears of joy came into Skshetuski's eyes and dimmed his sight,
for a while. Although the forces were so unevenly matched,
although these few regiments were opposed to a whole phalanx
of Zaporojians and Tartars who, as usual, formed in wings,
although their ranks extended so far into the steppes that
one could hardly see the end of them, Skshetuski yet believed
in victory. His face beamed, his strength returned, his eyes
flashed as he looked towards them and he could hardly con-
tain himself.

"Ha! child," growled old Zakhar, "thy soul would like to
enter Paradise."

Meanwhile a few scattered Tartar divisions had plunged
forward with shouts and cries of "Allah!" They answered
them from the camp with shots, but the attack was only a
threat. The Tartars before reaching the Polish squadrons
retreated in the direction of their own forces and disappeared
in the crowd.

iy5 ^y^TII FIRE AND iSWORD.

Then sounded the great drum of Sich, and at its call a
gigantic semicircle of Cossacks and Tartars moved forward.
Khmyelnitski was evidently trying to see if he could not,
with one stroke, crush those regiments and occupy the camp.
In case of a wild retreat, it would be possible, l)ut such an
event did not seem probable among the Polish regiments.
They stood calm, spread out in a tolerably long line with the
earthworks at their back and the cannons on their flank so
that they could be only attacked from the front. For a mo-
ment it k)oked as if they were going to receive the attack,
but when the crescent had covered half the field the trumpets
in the intrenchments sounded for attack — and the array of
lances which, up to this time had been raised in the air were
lowered to the level of the horses lieads.

'*The hussars are attacking," cried Skshetuski.

They had crouched in their saddles and galloped forward,
and inmiediately behind them came the dragoons, and the
whole line of battle.

^rhe assault of the hussars was terrific. In the first attack
they fell upon three kurzens, those of Steblovski and that of
Mirohorodzki, i nd annihilated them in an instant. The
shouts and cries came to Skshetuski's cars, horses and men
who had been overthrown by the gigantic force of the iron
riders fell like blades of wheat before the breath of the storm.
The resistance lasted so short a time that it seemed to
Skshetuski as if some gigantic dragon had swallo-wed the three
regiments at a gulp. The horses, terrified by the noise of the
birds, carried terror into the ranks of the Zaporojians. The
regiments of Irkleyevski, Kalmbolotski, Minski, Sshuryski,
and Titorovski became completely demoralized as the swarm
of fugitives rushed among them, and began to retreat in dis-
order. Meanwhile hussars had called up the assistance of
the dragoons and with them, began a bloody slaughter. The
kiirzen of Vasyurynski took to flight, after an obstinate but
short resistance, and fled in wild terror to the very intrench-
ments and, transformed into disorderly masses, pursued,
slashed with swords, pressed upon by the iron onset, they
could not gain a moment in which to restore order.

"Devils! not Poles!" cried old Zakhar.

Skshetuski was half delirious; he was ill and could not con-
trol himself, so that he laughed and cried at the same time,
and screamed out the word of command as if he were himsejf
holding a regiment. Zakhar held him by the coat, and called
others to assist him.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ,77

The fighting was so close to the Cossack camp that one
could almost distinguish the faces of the soldiers. The can-
non roared from the breast-works, but the Cossack balls,
which reached friend as well as. foe, only increased the con-
fusion. The hussars had forced their way to the kurza of
Paschkovski which formed the hetmans guard, and in the
middle of which was Khmyelnitski himself. Suddenly a
frightful yell arose from the ranks of the Zaporojians. The
great red banner wavered and fell. But at this moment
Kshechovski with his iive thousand men, rushed into the
fight. He dashed, on his immense sorrel horse, into the front
rank, without a cap, his sword held above his head, and re-
formed the scattered Nijovs. As they saw help approaching
they turned, although in disorder, to renew the attack. The
battle raged again in the centre of the line.

Khmyelnitski's luck failed him on both wings.

The Tartars, thanks to the Wallachian regiment and Potot-
ski's Semenovs, who had twice repulsed them, had completely
lost their courage. Tukhay Bey had had tw^o horses killed
under him; the victory was finally inclining toward the side
of young Pototski.

But the fight did not last much longer. The rain, which
had grown more heavy, had now become such a downpour
that one could not see through the streams of water. No lon-
ger drops but perfect torrents poured on the earth from the
Hood-gates of Heaven. The steppes were transformed into a
lake. It became so dark, that one could not see another at a
distance of a few steps. The noise of the rain drowned the
voices of command. The damp muskets and guns were silent.
Heaven itself seemed to put an end to the slaughter.

Khmyelnitski, wet to the skin and mad with ragej plunged
into his camp, and spoke not a word to any one. They made
him a tent of camel-skins, beneath which he might take shel-
ter. Here he sat alone, given over to gloomy thoughts.

Despair had taken possession of him. Now only did he
realize what an undertaking he had on hand. Beaten, re-
pulsed, and defeated in a fight with such a small opposing
force that one might with justice consider them merely a
vanguard, he knew how immense was the power of resistance
of the army of the Commonwealth and had taken it into ac-
count w^hen he undertook the war; and yet he had miscalcu-
lated. So, at least, it seemed to him at this moment, and he
seized his close shaven head as if he would dash it against the

12

1 78 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

first cannon that same in his way. How would it be when he
had to encounter the forces of the Hetman and of the whole
Commonwealth ?

The entrance of Tukhay Bey interrupted his thoughts. •

The eyes of the Tartar gleamed with rage, his face was
white, his teeth glistened bctwen his hairless lips.

"Where are the mm, where are the prisoners, where are
the heads of the generals, where is the victory?" he asked in
a hoarse voice.

Khmyelnitski sprang from his seat.

"Yonder," he cried with a voice of thunder and pointed
in the direction of the royal camp.

"Then go thither," growled Tukhay Bey, and if you will
not go, I will lead you with a rope to the Crimea."

"I will go," said Khmyelnitski. "This very day I will
go! I will fetch soldiers, I will fetch prisoners; but you
must render the Khan an account, for you demand prisoners
and are afraid of the battle.^'

"Dog," howled Tukhay Bey, "you are sending the Khan's
army to destruction."

They stood thus a moment, facing each other, gasping with
rage. Khmyelnitski first regained his calmness.

"Tukhay Bey be quiet," said he. "The rain has inter-
rupted the fight just as the dragoons had overpowered Kshec-
hovski. I know them. To-morrow they will fight with less
energy. The steppes will be more marshy. The hussars will
succomb. To-morrow, all will be ours."

"You have said it," muttered Tukhay Bey.

"And I will keep my word. Tukhay Bey, my friend, the
Khan sent you to assist me, not to torment me."

"You promised victories, not defeats."

"They have taken some of the dragoons prisoners, I will
give them to you."

"Give them to me, I will have them impaled."

"Do not do that, let them go free. They are soldiers from
the Ukraine, of BaJaban's squadron; I will send them over
that they may bring the dragoons over to our side. It will
be just as it was with Kshechovski."

Tukhay Bey grew calm: he looked at Khmyelnitski sharply
and said:

"Serpent!" . . .

"Craft is worth as much as courage. If I can persuade the
dragoons to desert, not one man will escape me! Do you
understand?

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

179

"I will have Pototski/'

"You shall have him — also Charnyetski."

"And now give me some gorzalka, for it is cold!'*

"All right!''

At this moment in stepped Kshechovski. The colonel was
as gloomy as night. The starostships, the dignities, castles
and treasures of his dreams had, after the day's fight, become
veiled in a fog. To-morrow they might completely vanish,
and out of that fog might arise in their place the hangman's
rope or the gallows. Had he not, by killing the Germans
who belonged to the hetman, burned all his bridges behind
him, he would most certainly have reflected how he might
now betray Khmyelnitski and go over with his soldiers into
Pototski's camp.

But that was now impossible.

They all three sat down to the big bottle of gorzalka and
began to drink in silence. The noise of the rain subsided
gradually. It was twilight.

Skshetuski exhausted with joy, weak and pale, lay motion-
less in the wagon. Zakhar, who had learned to like him,
commanded the Cossacks to spread a felt canopy over him.
The lieutenant heard the melancholy patter of the rain, but
in his soul all was bright, happy, and full of light. His hus-
sars had shown what they could do, his Commonwealth had
offered a resistance worthy of her majesty. The first assault
of the Cossacks had been shaittered by the lances of the king's
army. And the hetmans were still there; and Prince Yere-
my and so many forces, so many noblemen, so much power;
and over all these the king — chief among peers.

Skshetuski's bosom rose with pride as if he felt all these
powers in himself. At this moment he experienced for the
firs't time since the day he lost his freedom in Sich, a certain
feeling of sympathy for the Cossacks: They were in the
wrong, but blind when they ventured to attack the sun with
mattocks. They were in the wrong, but unfortunate in hav-
ing allowed themselves to be led away by a man who was
leading them into evident destruction.

His thoughts then wandered farther? Peace would come
and then each one would have a right to think of his own per-
sonal happiness. At this moment his soul and mind were
in Rozloga. There in the vicinitv of the lion^s den, it would
be quiet as in poppy-land; there the insurrection would never
raise its head and, should it do so — Helena would undoubtedly
be already in Lubni.

l3o WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Suddenly the thunder of cannon interrupted the golden
thread of his thoughts.

Khmeylnitski had drunk himself full and was leading his
regimeni;s again to the attack.

But it amounted to nothing more than thunder of cannon.
Kshechovski restrained the hetman.

The following day was Sunday. It passed quietly without
a shot being fired. The camps lay opposite each other, like
those of two allied armies.

Skshetuski attributed this quiet to the disaffection of the
Cossacks. "Alas! He did not know that Khmyelnitski,
during this interval, was "looking around him with the nu-
merous eyes of his mind" and was doing his best to entice
Balaban's dragoons over to his side. On Monday at early
dawn the fight began afresh. Skshetuski watched it as be-
fore, with a smiling, beaming face. Once more, the royal
troops advanced from the entrenchment, but this time did
not undertake an attack but opposed the enemy from where
they stood. The steppes were not only soft on the surface,
as on the first day of the fight, but the rain had soaked
through to some depth. The heavy cavalry could hardly
move and at first this gave the agile Zaporojian and Tartar
regiments the advantage. Gradually the smile disappeared
from Skshetuski's lips. The mass of the assailants almost
completely covered the earthworks of the Poles. It s(»emed
as if every moment that barrier would be broken and the as-
sault inevitably begin on the ramparts. Sks^hetuski observed
that the regiments did not fight with half the courage or
half the eagerness that they had shown the first day. They
defended themselves obstinately, however, but they did not
attack as fiercely as the kurzens; they did not make a clean
sweep of the field like a hurricane. The ground of the
steppes which was soaked through and through had weakened
their power and really banished the heavy cavalry behind the
entrenchments. The impetus which gave them courage and
decided the victory was wanting, and to-day they were obliged
to stay still, inactive. Khmyelnitski however continued to
lead new kurzens to the attack. lie, himself, was every-
where. He, himself, led every kurzen to the attack and only
retreated before the swords of the enemy. His zeal infecteil
even the Zaporojians and although they fell in dense masses,
they ran like a storm-wind against the earthworks with
screams and howls. They plunged against the wall of iron

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jgi

breasts, against the points of their lances, and retreated again
covered with sword-cuts and decimated. Under these as-
saults the regiments began to waver, to melt away and here
and there to retreat as a wrestler clutched in the iron arms of
an opponent becomes weaker and again struggles and regains
strength.

Before noon almost all the fighting strength of the Zaporo-
jians was under fire and in the battle. The battle raged so
fiercely that between the two opposing forces a new rampart
had been formed, a rampart made of the corpses of men and
horses.

At every moment, there came back to the Cossack entrench-
ment, swarms of bandaged, bleeding, mud-covered, panting,
exhausted warriors. But they came back with songs on their
lips; on their features glowed warlike courage and a certainty
of victory; even as they sank powerless to the earth they cried:
^'On to death!" The garrison which remained behind in the
camp was yearning for the fray.

Skshetuski was sad. The Polish squadrons began to dis-
appear from the field behind their fortifications. They could
hold out no longer, and one noticed the feverish haste of
their retreat. At this sight some twenty thousand voices
shouted joyfully: The attack was renewed with double
vigor. The Zaporojians sprang upon the necks of Pototski's
Semenovs who covered the retreat.

But the cannon and the rain of musket bullets repulsed
them. The fighting ceased for a time. In the Polish camp
was heard the sound of the parley trumpet that called a truce.

Khmyelnitski, however, did not wish to parley. Twelve
Kurzens dismounted in order to unite with the infantry and
the Tartars in storming the breastworks of the Poles.

Kshechovski was to hasten to their assistance with three
thousand infantry at the decisive moment. All the kettle-
drums, triangles, and trum]>ets began to sound at one time
and drowned the shouts and salvos of musketry.

Skshetuski looked tremblingly at the deep ranks of the in-
comparable Zaporojian infantry that dashed towards the ram-
parts and surrounded them in a narrowing circle. Long
streaks of white smoke poured forth on them from the earth-
works as if a giant breath would blow away the grasshoppers
which swarmed on all sides. The cannon balls i^loughed
furrows in their ranks. The report of firearms wafl more
frequent. The thunder of the cannon was unceasing. His

1 82 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

eyes filled with tears. Here and there the ranks of assailants
twitched convulsively hke a wounded snake, but th-ey con-
tinued their attack. Already they have reached the goal!
Already they are at the breastworks! The cannon can no
longer hurt them! Skshetuski closes his eyes.

And now, like lightning, the question flashed through his
mind '^Should he, when he opened his eyes, still see Polish
standards on the breastworks? Would he sec them — would
he not see them?" The tumult increased and an unusual
noise was heard. Had something happened. From the
midst of the camp came cries. "What is that? What has
happened ?"

"Almighty God!''

This cry escaj)ed Skshetuski's lips as ho opened his eyes
and, instead of tlie huge golden standard of the king he saw
the red flag with the archangel. The camp had been taken.
It was not till evening that he learned from Zakhar tiie details
of the battle. It was not for nothing that Tukhay Bey had
called Khmyelnitski "serpent," for ju^^t at the moment of the
most obstinate resistance tlie Balaban dragoons had been per-
suaded to go over to the Cosvsacks; had hurled themselves
upon the rear of their own regiments and helped to destroy
them even to the last man.

In the evening, Skshetuski saw the prisoners and was pre-
sent at the death of young Pototski, whose throat was pierced
by an arrow.

He lived only a few houi-s after the battle and died in
Stephen Charnyet ski's arms.

"Tell my father," whis})ered the young Ciistollan in his
dying moments, "Tell my father that I ... as a knight . ."

lie could say no more, his soul left his body and flew to
Heaven. It was long before Skshetuski forgot that j)ale face
and those blue eyes, directed to Heaven in the moment of
death. Charnyetski made this vow over the cold corpse, that
if God gave him back his freedom he would wash away the
insult of captivity and n^venge the death of his friend in
streams of blood; but not a tear flowed down his stern face;
for he was a knight of iron, celebrated for his l)rave deeds
and uncrushed by any misfortune. He fulfilled his vow.
He did not give way to despair, but consoled Skshetuski, who
suffered torture at the defeat and ignominy of the Common-
wealth. "The Commonwealth has suffered many defeats,"
said Charnyetski, "but she has an irresistible strength in her-

^•ALMIGHTY GOD" . .

W^/V* Fire and Sword.

ESCAPED FROM SKSHETUSKl'S LIPS.

WITH PIRE AND SWORD. rgj

self. Ko power hitherto has broken her and the insurrection
of the peasants, which God himself will punish, will not
break her, for they are opposing themselves to His will when
they rise against their superiors, and the defeat — it is sad,
certainly, but who has suffered this defeat? The hetmans?
The king's army? No! After the desertion and treachery
of Kshechovski, the division which Pototski commanded could
only be looked ujwn as a vanguard. The rebellion will un-
doubtedly spread over the whole Ukraine, for the peasants
there are insolent and ready for war but this rebellion is not
the first. The hetmans and Prince Yeremy, whose power
has hitherto remained untouched, will crush it. The greater
the strength with which it breaks forth, the longer it will
slumber once it is crushsd — perhaps forever. They must in-
deed be of HHle faith and weak hearts who could believe that
any Cossack leader, in company with one Tartar Murza, could
really threaten a mighty people. It would go hard with the
Commonwealth if an ordinary uprising of the peasantry
should decide her fate and her right to exist. Truly we un-
dertook this war in a spirit of contempt," concluded Chamy-
etski, "and although our vanguard is annihilated, I believe
that it is not with the sword, that the hetmans will suppress
it nor with weapons, but with the lash."

And as he thus spoke, it was not as if a prisoner were
speaking, or a soldier who had been conquered, but a proud
hetman who is confident of victory on the following day.
This greatness of soul and his firm faith in the Common-
wealth, fell like balm upon the wounds of the lieutenant. He
saw Khmyelnitski's might so close, so near, that it blinded
him a little, and all the more because, up to this time the re-
sults had been favorable to him, but Charnyetski must be
right. The fighting strength of the hetmans was still un-
touched, and behind them was the whole power of the Com-
monwealth and therefore the power of right and of God's
will. The lieutenant went away consequently with his soul
strengthened and cheerful, and, as he went, he asked Charn-
yetski if he would not soon negotiate with Khmyelnitski for
his freedom.

"I am Tukhay Be/s prisoner," said Stephen, "I will pay
him my ransom, but I will have nothing to do with that
leader of the Cossacks. I would send him to the gallows."

Zakhar, who had arranged this meeting between the prison-
ers and Skshetuski, when leading him back to the wagon, also
tried to comfort him on the way.

184 ^^^^^ ^^^^' ^'^'^ ISWORD.

"They did not have any difficulty with young Pototski/'
he said, "but tliey will have trouble with the hetmans. The
work is only begun and what the end will be — God only
knows. Yes, the Cossacks and the Tartars have taken a
quantity of Polish property, but to take and to keep are two
different things. And you, child, do not worry, do not de-
spair you will gain your freedom, you will return to your own
people, and the old man will mourn for you. It is hard in
one's old age to be all alone in the world. It will be more
difficult with the hetmans, ah! more difficult!'*
• In fact this victory, although it was a brilliant one, did not
in any way decide the struggle in Khmyelnitski's favor; it
might, indeed, tell against him; for it was easy to foresee that
the Grand Iletman, to avenge the death of his son, would
proceed with especial ferocity against the Zaporojians, and
would leave nothing undone to annihilate them once and for
all. The Grand Iletman had a certain grudge against Prince
Yeremy which although it was concealed by politeness, never-
theless came to the surface on various occasions. Khmyel-
nitski knew this well and also judged that Pan Cracovski
would now lay aside this grudge, and reach forth the hand of
fellowship to the prince, in order to assure himself of the
assistance of the celebrated warrior and his mighty army.
And with the united forces under such a leader as the prince
Khmyelnitski dared not measure himself, for as yet he had
not sufficient confidence in himself. He resolved therefore
to hasten at the same time as the news of the defeat should
reach the hetman, to cross the Zolta Woda into the Ukraine
and attack the hetman before the prince could come to his
assistance.

He allowed his forces, therefore, no rest and the morning
following the battle they were already on the march. He
made his preparations as quickly as if he were pursuing the
hetman. It fieemed as if a deluge were flooding the steppes
and were hurrying forward and gathering all the waters in its
course. They passed forests, woods, hills; without halting,
they crossed the rivers. The fighting power of the Cossacks
was increased on their journey, for new crowds of peasants
who had fled from the Ukraine joined themselves to their
ranks. The peasants also brought news of the hetmans, but
they contradicted one another. Some said that the prince
was already on the other side of the Dnieper, others main-
tained that he had already joined the Royal forces but all

WITH FIRE AND HWOKD. J85

agreed that the Ukraine was in flames. The peasants were
not only fleeing to Khrayelnitski in the Wild Lands, but they
also set fire to villages and towns, attacked their masters, and
armed themselves generally. The king's army had been
fighting for two weeks. Steblev was taken; near Derenhov
a bloody battle had been fought. The Cossacks from the
towns had, in several places, already joined the side of the
'T)lacks" and were waiting everywhere to enlist. Khmyel nit-
ski had counted on all this and he hastened all the more.

Finally he stood on the threshhold. Chigrin opened her
gates to him; the Cossack garrison at once joined his stand-
ard; Chaplinski's house was stormed; a number of the nobility
who had taken refuge in the town were slaughtered. Cries
of joy, ringing of bells, and processions did not cease for a
moment; the whole neighborhood was in flames; everyone
seized scythes and pikes and united with the Zaporojians;
the countless crowds of country })eople streamed into the
camp from all directions. Joyful and certain news had been
brought that Prince Yeremy had offered his assistance to the
Hetman but had not yet joined him.

Khmyelnitski breathed more freely.

He rode forward without delay and marched through with
rebellion, slaughter and fire on his way. This might be seen
by the corpses and ashes on the road. He moved along like
an avalanche crushing everything in his way. The land had
become a desert after he had passexl through it; he moved
onward like an avenging angel; like the dragon in the legend,
his steps pressed blood from the ground; his breath was a
breath of flame.

In Cherkass he halted with the main body of the army and
sent forward the Tartars under Tukhay Bey, and the wild
Kshyvonos, to attack the hetmans at Korsim and they at-
tacked them without delay. But they paid dearly for their
rashness. Repulsed, decimated, almost annihilated, they
were forced to retreat in disorderly flight.

Khmyelnitski hastened to their assistance. On the way he
received news that Sienyavski had gone over with several
regiments to the hetmans, who had left Korsun and had gone
on to Boguslav. The news was true. Khmyelnitski took
Korsun without any opposition, and the wagons, supplies, in
one word, the entire camp, and hurried after them along the
great highway.

It did not take long to overtake them as they had not gone

1 86 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

far. At Kruta Balka, his advance guards came upon the
first Polish encampment.

It was not permitted to Skshetuski to see this battle, for
he remained in Korsun with the baggage. Zakhar brought
him to the market-place, into Zabokehytski's house — the
"blacks'* had already hanged its owner, and placed a guard
made up from the remnant of the camp of Mirgorod in front
of it, for the mob plundered the houses continually and mur-
dered everybody they suspected of being Poles. Through
the broken windows, Skshetuski saw swarms of drunken,
blood-thir&ty peasants with rolled-up sleeves going from
house to house, from cellar to cellar, peering in all corners
and attics. From time to time a frightful noise announced
that a nobleman, a Jew, a man, or a woman had been found.
They would drag the victim to the market-place and rage
around him ^^^th the most frightful fury. The mob fought
with one another for portions of the corpse smeared their
faces with blood in wild delight and hung the still reeking
entrails round their necks. The peasants seized little Je\\ash
boys by their feet and tore them asunder amid the mad
laughter of the crowd. They threw themselves also upon
the houses that were guarded by sentries where distinguished
prisoners were kept, who had been allowed to live because
large ransoms were expected for them. But the Zaporojians
or Tartars who were keeping watch repulsed the mob and
knocked them on the head with pikes, bows, or with ox-hide
thongs. All this was going on before the house in which
Skshetuski was a prisoner. Zakhar commanded that the
peasants should be beaten without mercy and the Mirgorodi-
ans obeyed the command with delight, for the Nijovs ac-
cepted the assistance of the country people in time of war,
but they despised them immeasurably more than they did
the nobility. Were they not called the aristocratic Cossacks?
Khmyelnitski himself had more than once given a consider-
able number of the country people to the black Tartars that
they might drive them into the Crimea and from thence to
Turkey and Asia Minor and sell them.

The mob raged, therefore, upon the market place and their
madness rose to such a pitch that they finally began to kill
each other. The day was declining. One whole side of the
market-place, the Greek church, and the house of the priest
were set on fire. Fortunately, the wind blew the flames
towards the country and prevented the spread of the fire, but

^ITH PIRE ASD SM'OkD.

187

the immense blaze lighted up the market as ])rightly as sun-
light. It became unbearabl}- warm and from the distance
came the terrible thundering of cannon — ^the fight at Kruta
Balka was evidently growing more fierce.

"Our men must be getting quite warm over there," growled
old Zakhar, "the hetmans are not at play, Pan Pototski is
an able soldier."

Then he pointed through the window at the "Blacks."
"See," he said, "they are rioting now but when Khmyeln-
itski is killed we will 'down' even them!"

At this moment the sound of tramping horses \/as heard
and several dozens of foam-flecked horses with their riders
plunged into the market-place. Their faces were black from
the powder; their clothing in disorder, and their heads bound
up in rags showed that they had just returned from the fight.

"All those who believe in God, save themselves! The
Poles are slaying us," they cried with loud voices.

Noise and confusion ensued. The crowd surged hither
and thither, like the waves lashed by a storm. Suddenly a
wild terror took possession of them. A disordered flight
began and, as .the streets were already choked with wagons
and a portion of the market-place was on fire, they knew not
which way to turn. The *^lacks" began to press on one
another, to scream, to fight, and to howl for mercy, although
the enemy was still at a distance.

When the lieutenant heard what was happening he became
wild with joy, ran up and down the room as if he were crazy,
beat his breast with both hands, with all his might, and cried:

"I knew that this would happen: I knew it, as sure as I
live! Now they have to do with the hetmans, now with the
whole Commonwealth. The hour of chastisement has come!
What is that?"

Again was heard the sound of trampling horses and, this
time, some hundred horsemen, mostly Tartars, appeared on
the market-place. They had evidently fled blindly. The
mob got in their road; they plunged into the mob, rode madly
over them; beat them, hunted them, slashed them out of the
way with their swords and dashed forward with their horses,
on to the highway that led to C'herkass.

"They are fljang like the storm-wind," said Zakhar.

The words had hardly been =poken when a second division
came by, and a third. The fliij:ht seemed to be general. The
eentries before the houses began to become impatient and

l8g WITH FIUE AND SWORD,

also showed a desire to run away. Zakhar dashed through
the porch.

"Halt!" he cried to his Mirgorodians.

The smoke, the heat, the confusion, the tramping of horses,
the noise of the fire, the liowling of the mob all blended to-
gether i the glow of the flames in a hellish spectacle on
which the lieutenant looked from his window.

"What a rout it must have been! What a rout!" he cried
to Zakhar without considering that Zakhar could not share
his joy.

Then another division of fugitives shot by like lightning.

The thundering of cannon shook the foundations of the
houses of Korsun.

vSudd'^nly a dreadful voice, close to the house, began to cry:

"Save yourselves, Khmel is slain! Kshechovski is slain!
Tukhay Bey is slain!''

Upon the market place it seemed as if 't might be the
end of the world. Men plunged madly into the flames. The
lieutenant sank on his knees and lifted his lands to Heaven.

"Almighty (iod! Great and just God! Honor be to thee
in the height!"

Zakhar interrupted this prayer by springing into the room:

"Oh, cliild!*' he cried, gasping for breath, "come out and
promise j)ardon to the ^lirgorodians, for they want to run
away — and if they fly, the M)lacks' will dash into th) house."

Skshctuski w(»nt (m the balcony. The Mirogodians were
pacing uneasily up and down and showed an unmistakable
wish to leave their watch, and to hasten to the highway which
load to (lierkass. Terror had seized every one \\ the town.
Now and then crowds of fugitives came by, as if on wings
from Kruta Halka. All fled in the greatest confusion; peas-
ants, Tartars, Cossacks of the towns, and Zaporojians. And
yet Khmyelnitski must still be making resistance; the battle
could not b(» decided, for the cannon thundered with re-
doubled might.

Skshetuski addressed the Mirogodians.

"As you," he began with a loud voice, "have faithfully
guarded my person, you need not save yourselves by flight. I
assure you of my protection, and favor with the hetman."

The Mirgorodians uncovered their heads, to the last man,
Skshetuski, however, placed his hands on his hips and looked
proudly at them, and across the market-place, which had be-
come more and more deserted. What a turn of fate! Skshetu-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 189

ski, not long before, a prisoner who was dragged along with
the Cossack troops, now stood among that bold Cossack crowd
like a master aniong his subjects; like a nobleman among the
common people; like a Cuirassier among camp-followers. He,
the prisoner, now promised mercy — and heads were uncov-
ered at sight of him and humble voices cried in a tone of
gloomy terror and submission:

"Have mercy, sir!"

"As I have said, so will it be."

His promise was indeed safe as regards the hetman to whom
he was well known, for he had frequently taken him letters
from Prince Yeremy and knew how to win his favor. He
stood there, his hands on hi 5 hips, and joy beamed on his
countenance that was lighted up by the glow of the fire.

"Thus the war is at an end! Thus the wave has broken
on the threshold," he thought, diarnyctski was right; the
power of the Commonwealth is impregnable; her might can-
not be shaken.

At these thoughts, his breast filled with pride, but it was
not the unworthy pride which arose from a satisfied thirst for
vengeance, from the humbling of his enemies, nor from the
restoration of his freedom, which he hoped for before long;
and not because people uncovered their heads before him —
no, he was proud to think he was a son of this victorious
Commonwealth, of this mighty power, at whose gates all
wickedness, all assault, all treachery was brought to naus^ht
and shattered as are the y)owers of Hell at the gate of Heaven.
He was proud as a no])le patriot, that he had been strength-
ened when in doubt and had not been decieved in his faith.
Vengeance he no longer desired. "She crushes like a queen,
she forgives like a mother," he thought.

Meanwhile, the sound of cannon was chanired into an un-
interrupted thunder. Again the noise of tramjiing horses
was heard in tlie deserted streets. A (Jossack riding bare-
])ack dashed like lightning into the market place, bare-
headed, in his shirt -sieves, and with battered, bleeding face.
He checked his steed, sprang to the ground, spread out his
hands, opened his mouth to take a deep breath, and began
to shout:

^'Khmel is beating the Poles! The great lords are all
killed! The hetmans, the colonels, the knights, and the cava-
liers!"

No sooner had he spoken, than lie reeled and fell to the
ground. The Mirgorodians hastened to his assistance.

jgo W^'^B FIRE AND SWORD.

Color and pallor alternated in Skshetuski's face.

'*VVhat does he say?" he asked feverishly of Zakhar. "What
has happened? It cannot be! By the living God, it can-
not bel"

All was still. . . . Only the flames hissed across from the
opposite side of the market-place. Sheaves of sparks flew,
and gutted houses fell together with a crash.

Fresh riders appeared.

The Poles are beaten! Beaten!

A division of Tartars followed them. They rode slowly,
for they were surrounding some men on foot; evidently pris-
oners. Skshetuski could not believe his eyes. He recognized
in the prisoners the uniform of the hetraan of the Hussars,
he clasped his hands and repeated in a strange, hoarse voice:

"It cannot be it cannot be!"

Still was heard the thunder of cannon, the fight was not
over, but in all tlie streets that the fire had not reajched,
swarms of Zaporojians and Tartars were pouring. Their faces
were black; they breathed hard; but they sang songs as if
they were intoxicated. Thus do soldiers return after victory.

The lieutenant grew as pale as a corpse.

"It cannot be," he repeated hoarsely, it cannot be . . . the
Commonwealth "

A new object attracted his attention.

Kshccliovski's Semenovs came along, bearing a number of
flags. They came riding into the middle of the market-place
and threw them on the ground.

Alas! Alas! they were Polish flags!

The thunder of cannon grew fainter in the distance, the
clatter of approaching wagons was heard. First came a high
Cossack telega, then came a number of others, all surrounded
by Cossacks of the Pashkov kurzen, wearing yellow caps.
They passed close })efore the house where stood the Mirgo-
rodians. Skshetuski placed his hand to his forehead, for the
glow of the fire blinded him and looked closely at the forms
of the prisoners who sat in the first carriage. Suddenly, he
stepped back, threw up his arms like a man whose breast is
pierced by an arrow, and, from his mouth came a frightful,
unearthly cry:

"Jesus Maria! it is the hetmans!"

And he sank into Zakhar's arms, a mist covered his eyes,
his face became set and cold as death.

Shortly after that three horsemen at the head of innumer-

W/r/7 FIRE AKD SWOkD. i^j

able regiments rode into the market-place of Korsun. The
man in the middle, dressed in red, sat upon a white horse, his
hand on the gold field-marshal's baton at his side, and looked
proudly before him, like a king.

It was Khmyelnitski. At either side of him rode Tukhay
Bey and Kshechovski.

The C^ommonwealth lay in dust and blood at the feet of
the Cossacki!

CHAPTEE XVL

Some days had passed. It seemed to the people as though
the arch of heaven had suddenly fallen and crushed the Com-
monwealth. The Zolta Woda, Korsun, the destruction of the
royal army which had hitherto ever been victorious in the
wars with the C^^ossacks, the capture of the hetmans, the ter-
rific fires that were devastating the whole Ukraine, carnage,
murders, such as one had never yet heard of since the world
began; all this had come upon them so suddenly, that men
could hardly believe that so much evil could happen to a
country at one time. Many would not believe it; others were
stunned with horror; others again lost their reason or prophe-
sied the coming of Auti-C'hrist and the approach of the Ijast
Judgment. All bonds of brotherhood, all human and family
relations w^ere dissolved, all authority ceased; the differences
in rank between men had disappeared; Hell had unchained
all crimes, and let them loose on the world, that they might
revel to their hearts' content; murder, robbery, breach of
faith, brutal acts of violence, animal-like rage took the place
of labor, honor, faith, and conscience. It seemed as if human-
ity, from this time forward would exist no longer through
goodness, but through wickedness; as if the hparts and minds
were transformed, and held as holy what had formerly been
considered dishonorable and w-hnt was once vile was now
holy. The sun no longer illumined the earth, for the smoke
of burning towms hid its light; and, at night, instead of the
light of the stars and moon, the gleam of flames alone lit up
the darkness. Towns, villages, churches, courts, forests went
up in flames. Men ceased to speak; they sighed or howled
now, as dogs would. Life had lost its value. Thousands per-
ished without a sigh; without leaving a memory, and, amid JiH
these terrors, this lust of murder, these groans, this fire and
smoke, one man alone ro«;o higher and higher, grew ever more
terrible and giant-like, till he almost blinded the light of day
and cast a shadow from sen to sea.

This man was Bogdan KhmyelnitsM.
192

WITH FIRE AKD BWORD. 195

Two hundred thousand men, fully armed, and intoxicated
with conquest, stood ready to obey his nod. Everywhere the
^•blacks,*' the Cossacks in the towns, united themselves with
this army. The country of Pripeth, to the very borders of
the desert was in flames. The uprising extended through the
Voyovodas of Russia, in Podolia, Volhynia, Bratslav, Kiev,
and Chernikov. The power of the hetman grew from day to
day. Never had the Commonwealth opposed half the fighting
strength to its most dreaded enemy that the hetman now had
under him. The German emperor had not such an army at
his command. The tempest surpassed all expectation. The
Hetman, himself, had at first not recognized, nor understood
how mighty he had become. He still shielded himself behind
such terms as justice and loyalty to the Commonwealth; for
he did not know then that he might trample them underfoot,
like so many empty words. But, with this power, there de-
veloped in him that boundless, mad egotism that has never
been equalled in history. The conception of evil and good,
of wrong and right, of injustice and outrage conveyed no
meaning to Khmyelnitski's mind except as they conduced to
his own welfare or injury. Whosoever took his side appeared
to him virtuous; whoever went against him was a criminal.
He would have even complained of the sun and considered it
an injustice if it had not shone when he needed it. He meas-
ured men, circumstances, and the world, with his own "I;"
but in spite of all the craft, in spite of all the hypocrisy of
the hetman he had an immense faith in himself. From this
confidence arose all Khmyelnitski's crimes, but also all his
good deeds; for, if he was terrible in his vengeance and cruelty
towards enemies, he could yet be grateful for all services that
were freely rendered him. Only when he was drunk, did he
forget benefits; then he bellowed madly and, with foaming
mouth, gave bloody commands that later he repented; and the
more his prosperity increased, the more frequently was he
dnmk, for an ever-increasing restlessness took possession of
him. It seemed as if his triumphs had led him to such a
height as he himself did not desire. His power inspired others
with terror, but also himself. The mighty current of rebel-
lion had seized him, had carried him away with the swiftness
of lightning, but whither? How was it all to end? As he had
undertaken this insurrection in the name of his own wrongs,
this Cossack diplomat might count on it that after the first
success, or even after defeat^ negotiations would be opened
13

i^ WITH FIRE Ast) swonn.

that would insure his pardon and give him satisfaction and
lecompenjje for the injustice and injury done him. He knew
the Commonwealth thoroughly; knew her patience, that waa
boundless as the sea: her mercy that knew neither measure
nor bounds; which did not arise merely from weakness; for
had she not offered forgiveness to Nalevayka when he was
surrounded and overcome? But now% after the victory of
Zolta Woda, after the defeat of the hetmans, after the kindling
of the insurrection in all the southern Voyevodas, matters
had proceeded too far, results had gone beyond all expecta-
tions— ^the conflict mu5?t now be carried on for life or death.

And on whose side would the victory remain?

Khmyelnitski asked the soothsayers, read the stars, looked
with intense, earnest glance into the future; — ^but he saw
before him only darkness. Therefore a frightful unrest made
his hair stand upright on his head and in his breast despair
raged like a hurricane. How will it be — how will it be? For
Khmyelnitski who saw more clearly than others, understood
better than others that the Commonwealth did not utilize
her full strength; that she did not know her own might; but
that she was nevertheless a giant force. If a man knew how
to seize this power with a firm hand, who could withstand
him? And who could tell if the fearful danger, the nearness
of the abyss, and of destruction, the feuds would not put an
end to the internal discords, the private intrigues, the envy
of the landholders, the wranglings, the disputes of the Diets,
the discord of the nobility, and the impotence of the king?
Tlien half a million of the nobility alone might take the field
and crush Khmyelnitski, even if not only the Khan of the
Oimea, but also the Turkish Sultan, should come to his as-
sistance.

This latent strength of the Commonwealth was known not
only to Khmyelnitski, but also to the late King Vladislav and,
therefore, he had striven his whole life long to enter into a
war for life or death with the most powerful ruler in the
world, for only in this manner could that strength bo called
to life. In accordance with this conviction, the king had not
hesitated to thro^' a spark into the Cossack gunpowder. Was
it indeed reserved for the (Cossacks to open the gate to this
flood only that it might finally swallow them up?

Khmyelnitski also understood how mighty the power of
resistance of the Commonwealth was, in spite of its many
weaknesses. Against this disordered, ill-united, insubordinate

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, j^j^

Commonwealth, the storm-wave of Turkey, the most threat-
ening of all the powers, had dashed, and had hroken upon it
as upon a rock. It had been the same at Khotsim, as he had
seen almost with his own eyes; yet this Commonwealth, even
in the hour of its weakness, had planted its banners on the
ramparts of foreign capitals. What resistance would she then
not offer, what would she not endure if, seized with despair,
she should be given the choice of death or victory?

With this prospect in view, each triumph wa^s fraught with
daiigei to Khmyelnitski; for it brought the moment of the
awakening of the sleeping lion ever nearer, and made negotia-
tions more and more impossible. In each vctory lay the
shadow of a future calamity; in each intoxi ation of success a
taste of bitterness. The storm of the Commonwealth would
now march forward against the storm of the Cossacks. It
seemed to Khmyelnitski as though he already heard its muf-
fled, distant roar.

Irom Greater Poland (Wiclkopolski), from Prussia, from
the S'varming Masov, from Little Poland (Malopolski), and
Lithujinia would come hosts of warriors — they needed only
a leader.

Khmyelnitski had taken the hetmans prisoners, but in this
stroke of luck was an ambush of fate. The hetmans were
experienced warriors, but not one of them was such a man as
this moment of fear, of horror, and of threatening calamity
demanded.

But one man could not take the command.

That man was Prince Yeremy Vishnyovyetski.

And as the hetmans were in captivity the choice would
undoubtedly fall on the prince. Khmyelnitski was confident
of this as were all others.

Meanwhile there came news to Korsun, where the Zaporo-
jian hetman had called a halt, in order to rest after the last
fight, news from beyond the Dnieper that the terrible prince
had already gone from Lubni, that on his march he was crush-
ing the rebellion without mercy, that, in his wake, villages,
settlements, plantations, and towns had disappeared, and in
their place, bloody stakes and gallows lifted their heads. Ter-
ror had doubled and trebled the amount of his fighting
strength. It was said that he was at the head of fifteen
thousand, picked warriors, who had not their superiors in the
whole Commomvealth. They expected him hourly in the
Cossack camp. Shortly after the fight at Kruta Balka the cry

196 ^il'B PiRE AND SWORD.

*'Yeremy is coming" had become a watchword among the Cos-
sacks, and spread terror among the "blacks," who fled in the
wildest confusion. This terror had caused Khmyelnitski to
ponder deeply.

He now had the choice of either moving forward to meet
the prince and seeking him beyond the Dnieper or leaving a
portion of his forces behind, to conquer the castles of the
Ukraine; while he pressed forward into the heart of the Com-
monwealth.

The advance against the prince was dangerous, and, in
spite of his overwhelming forces, Khmyelnitski might suffer
defeat in a decisive battle with so celebrated a warrior, and
then, everything would be lost forever The 'Slacks" who
formed the immense majority of his forces had given evidence
that they would take to flight at the very mention of the
name of "Yeremy." Time was needed to transform them into
soldiers who could offer a front to the Prince's regiment.

On the other hand, the prince might not care to venture a
decisive battle, but might remain satisfied with the defence
of his fortified places and with petty engagements, which
might last whole months or even years; and, during this time,
the Commonwealth would undoubtedly gather fresh forces
and come to the assistance of the Prince.

Khmyelnitski resolved to leave Vishnyovyetski beyond the
Dnieper, and first strengthen himself in the Ukraine and
organize his forces, and then march forth on the Common-
wealth, and force her to open negotiations. He counted upon
this: that the suppression of the rebellion beyond the Dnieper,
alone, would last a long time, and would take all the energies
of the prince, and thus leave him a free field. He, himself,
undertook to nourish the rebellion beyond the Dnieper, by
sendincr single regiments to aid the %lacks."

Finally, he thought that he might deceive the prince
through negotiations and retard him and wait until his
strength gradually was dissipated. For this purpose he be-
thought himself of Skshetuski.

A few days after the victory of* Kruta Balka and the day
after the general panic, he had Skshetuski brought before
him.

He received him in the house of the starosta, in the sole
presence of Kshechovski, whom he had previously known.
He greeted him kindly, though with a dignity that his present
rank demanded, and said:

WITH FIRE A\D SWORD. igj

"Lieutenant Skshetuski, in consideration of the service
that you rendered me, 1 bought you from Tukhay Bey, and
promised you your freedom; now the hour has arrived for
me to give you a piernach^ to pass through unhindered if
you should meet any of the forces; and also as a guard to
protect you from the ^blacks/ You may return to your
prince/'

Skshetuski was silent, no smile of joy was seen on his face.

"You may set out at once, for I see by your eyes that you
do not feel well."

Skshetuski indeed looked like a shadow. His wounds, and
the occurrences of the last few weeks, had broken the strength
of this young giant youth, who now looked as if he would not
live to see the morrow. His face had grown yellow, and his
black beard, that had long been unshaven, only increased his
miserable appearance. This was the result of his inward tor-
ment. The knight worried himself almost to death. A pris-
oner in the camp of the Cossacks, he had been a witness of
all that had happened from the time they had left Sich. He
had seen the calamities of the Commonwealth; he had seen
the hetmans in slavery; he had witnessed the triumph of the
Cossacks; the pyramid that they built up of the heads of their
fallen foes; the nobility whom they had hanged; the mutila-
tion of women; the violation of young girls. He had seen
the despair of the brave and also the abjectness of fear — he
had seen all, suffered all; and suffered all the more keenly
because, through breast and brain, the thought pierced like a
sword, that he, himself, had been the innocent cause of all
this; because it was he, and no other who had rescued Khmyel-
nitski from the noose. But how could the Christian knight
foresee that the assistance that he had rendered his neighbor
v/ould bear such fruit. His sorrow was therefore unbounded.

And when he asked himself what was happening to Helena,
and when he thought what might happen to her, should an
adverse fate detain her in Rozloga, he stretched his hands
towards Heaven and cried aloud with a voice in which the
deepest despair, even a threat, trembled. "Oh God! take also
my soul, for T have suffered more here than I deserve.*' Soon,
however, he would repent that he had blasphemed; then he
would fall on his face and pray for succor, for pardon, for
mercy for his fatherland, and for that innocent dove who

1 A Cossack Coloners baton that took the place of a safe-conduct.

,98 • ^^'^H ^tntl AXD SWORD.

might, at this very moment, be calling in vain on God for
assistance. In short, he suifered so much that even the gift
of freedom could not bring him any great joy, and this Za-
porojian hetman, in his hour of triumph, who wished to be
magnanimous towards him and show him mercy awed him
no longer. Khmyelnitski's brow wrinkled, and he said:

"Make haste to take advantage of this favor lest I change
my mind; for only my own virtue and my confidence in the
good cause makes me so incautious as to prepare for myself
an enemy, for I know well that you will take up arms against
me.'"

Thereupon Skshetuski answered:

"If (jiod gives me the strength."

And he looked at Khmyelnitski as if he would like to look
into the very depths of his soul. The hetman could not en-
dure this glance, but cast his eyes to the ground, and after a
few moments of silence, said:

"AVell, that does not matter. I am too powerful to pay any
attention to such an invalid. You may tell the prince, your
master, what you have seen here, and 1 warn him not to
presume too rashly, for, if my patience is exhausted, I will
hunt him up beyond the Dnieper country, and 1 do not know
whether my visit would be agreeable to him."

Skshetuski was silent.

"I have said it and repeat it again," continued Khmyelnit-
ski, "tluit it is not with the (Commonwealth, but with the
petty princes, that 1 am carrying on war and the prince takes
the first rank among them. He is my enemy and the ehemy
of the people of Russia; a renegade from our C-Iiurch and a
tyrant*. I hear that he is going to put down the rebellion with
blood; let him see to it that he does not shed his own."

Tlien he grew more and more excited, so that the blood
rose to his face and his eyes fiaslied fire. It was evident that
he was in such a paroxysm of rage that his consciousness and
memory were nearly gone.

- "I will have him led with a rope by Kshyvonos," he
screamed. "I will put my feet on his neck; I will bind him
on his back upon a horse!"

Skshetu=ki looked at the furious Khmyelnitski from head
to foot, and then he answered quietly:

"Conquer him first."

"Illustrious Hetman," said Kshechovski, "let this impudent
noble go, for it is not worthy of your dignity that you should

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. jy^

let yourself be carried away by anger against him; and, as
you have promised him freedom, he thinks that you must
either break your word or listen to his invectives."

Khmyelnitski recovered his calmness, panted for a moment,
and said:

"Let him depart, but that he may know that Khmyelnitski
rewards kindness with kindness, give him a safe conduct, as I
said, and forty Tartars who will take him to tlie camp."

Then turning to Skshetuski, he added:

"Know thou that we are now quits. I grew to like you,
in spite of your temerity, but, if you ever fall into my hands
again, you shall not escape."

Skshetuski went out with Kshechovski.

"Since the hetman lets you escape with a whole neck,'^
said Kshechovski, "and you may travel in any direction you
desire, 1 say to you, as we are old friends, take refuge in
Warsaw, not beyond the Dnieper, for no man will escape
thence with his life. Your day is past. If you were wise
you would come over to us, but I know that I am wasting
my breath; you would attain a high position as 1 shall."

"The gallows/' growled Skshetuski.

"They would not give me the starostaship of Lityn, now
I will not take one, but ten. We will drive away the Princes
Konyetspolski, Kalinovski, Pototski, Lubomirski, Vishnyov-
yetski, Zaslavski, and the whole nobility and divide their
goods among us; and, with God's help, that will certainly
come to pass, as He has already given us two glorious vic-
tories."

Skshetuski did not listen to the Colonel's chatter; he was
thinking of something else. The other, however, continued:

"After the battle and our victory, when I saw, in Tukhay
Bey's quarters, my master and benefactor, the illustrious,
royal hetman, in chains, it pleased him to call me an ingrate
and a Judas. I however answered him: 'Sir Voyevoda, 1
am not an ingrate for when I shall have possession of your
castles and your property — promise me only that you will
not get drunk — ^and I will make you my vice-starost!' Ha,
Tukhay Bey will get ransom for the birds he has caught —
that is why he spares them, otherwise Khmyelnitski and I
would treat them differently. But see, the carriage is ready
and the Tartars are waiting. In which direction do you
wish to travel?"

^To Chigrin,"

200 ^^^J^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

"As yau make your bed so you must lie. The Tartars will
take you to Lubni itself if you wish, so the command runs,
only take care that your prince does not have them impaled
as he would undoubtedly do to the Cossacks! That is why
they gave you Tartars. The Hetman has also given you a
horse. Farewell, and think kindly of us, and greet the
prince for our hetman, and invite him, when he is ready, to
come here and submit to Khmyelnitski. Perhaps he will
find mercy. Farewell!"

Skshetuski got into the carriage which the Tartars at
once surrounded and they set out. The way across t'he
square was not easy, for it was packed with Zaporojians and
the "blacks." They were one and all cooking barley, and
singing songs about the victory of Zolta Woda and of Korsun,
which blind minstrels had composed, who had come in crowds
into the camp.

Between the fires, over which hung the kettles containing
the porridge, lay corpses of murdered women over whom
orgies had taken place in the night, or there rose pyramids
of heads which had been cut from the bodies of dead and
wounded soldiers after the battle. These corpses and heads
were beginning to decay and emited a foul odor which how-
ever did not seem to be offensive to the assembled crowd.
The town bore traces of the ravages and savage license of the
Zaporojians. Windows and doors were torn out, the broken
fragments of thousands of articles mixed with straw and
feathers were scattered about on the ground of the market
place. The eaves of the houses were adorned with hanging
forms, mostly Jews, and the crowd amused themesleves here
and there by holding on to the feet as they hung, and swing-
ing backwards and forwards.

One side of the market was black with the ruins of burned
houses, among them a parish church in which were still
seen red embers and smoke. A smell of burning filled the
air. Just beyond the burnt houses, stood a tent, which
Skshetuski had to pass; and a crowd of prisoners who were
guarded by a large number of Tartars. All those who had
not been able to save themselves in the vicinity of Chigrin,
Cherkass, or Korsun, or had not fallen beneath the axes of
the 'T^lacks," were taken prisoners. There were, therefore,
soldiers from both battles and inhabitants of the neighbor-
hood who had, hitherto, not joiner!, or not wished to join
the rebellion; men of the higher nobility or of the petty

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 201

nobility, vice-starosta oflScials, colonists, men, women, and
children of the poor country squires. One saw no gray-
beards, for they were always murdered by the Tartars, for
they were of no value, as objects of sale. The Tartars cap-
tured entire villages and colonies of the people of Russia and
Khmyelnitski did not dare to prevent them. In many places
it happened that the men went over to the camp of the Cos-
sacks, and, in return, the Tartars set their cabins on fire
and stole their wives and children. But in the midst of
the universal license and savagery of all hearts, no one asked
about them, no one sought to redress their wrongs. The
^'blacks'' who had taken up arms renounced their native
places, their wives and their children. If their wives were
taken from them, they took other women of the better class
of Poles, and after they had satisfied their lust, they mur-
dered them or sold them to the Tartars. Among the prison-
er* there was no lack of Ukraine youths, who were tied to-
gether in threes or fours with one rope, as were the daughters
of the nobility. Slavery and misfortune had destroyed all
bariers of caste. The sight of these beings pierced one's
soul, and awakened a thirst for vengeance. Dragged from
their homes half-naked, the object of the shameless jokes of
the pagans, who drove them about on the square; pushed
about; beaten, or kissed by those terrible mouths, they lost
consciousness, lost will-power. Some sobbed or cried aloud;
others with a fixed gaze and bewilderment in their features,
with open mouths, resigned themselves to all that might
happen. Here and there a prisoner, who was being remorse-
lessly murdered for resistance which he despairingly offered,
would scream aloud. In the midst of- the crowd of men,
one heard the cracking of ox-hide whips that mingled with
the cries of pain, the sobbing of children, the bellowing of
cattle, and the neighing of horses. The booty had not yet
been divided and placed in order, so the greatest confusion
prevailed. Wagons, horses, cattle, camels, sheep, women,
men, piles of plundered draperiers, utensils, rugs, weapons, —
all were thrown together in a great heap and had to be put
in order and separated. New swarms of men, and cattle were
continually being driven in. Flat bottomed boats, laden to
overflowing rowed across the Ros; and from the chief camp
new people came out to feast their eyes on the sight of these
gathered riches. Some of them, drunk from kumys or gor-
zalka, clothed in the strangest garments; vestments^ sur-

202 W/T/i FIRE AND SWORD.

plices, or even in women's dresses, disputed and wrangled
about what should fall to their share. Ohaban Tartars, who
sat upon the ground between the herds amused themselves
with playing hideous melodies on pipes, or with throwing
dice, or by beating each other with sticks. Packs of dogs
who had followed their masters barked and howled piteously.

At length Skshetuski left behind him this inhuman Ge-
henna, resounding with sighs, tears of misery and the noises
of Hell. He thought now he could breatlie more freely, but
immediately outside the camp another dreadful sight met
his eyes. In the distance gleamed the camp, from which
was heard continually the neighing of horses; which was
filled with thousands of Tartars; but somewhat nearer on the
plains, closes to the highway which leads to ('herkass, several
young warriors were amusing themselves firing for practice
upon the weaker or sick prisoners who could not endure the
long journey to the Crimea. Several dozen human corpses
had already been thrown on the highway. They were per-
forated by the arrows, like sieves; many of them still twitched
convulsively. The targets for this amusement were sus-
pended from trees which grew along the road, to which they
were suspended by their hands. Among them were some
old women. A laugh of satisfaction after each successful
shot was accompanied by the cry:

"Jaksze iegit — Well done, boys! Uk jakse kol! — the bow
is in good hands!''

In the vicinity of the principal camp, thousands of cattle
and horses were being prepared for the food of the warriors.
The ground was soaked with blood. The oppressive o<lor of
the raw flesh choked one, ard, between the heaps of raw
meat, blood-smeared Tartars with their knives in tlieir hands
wandered to and fro. The day was close, the sun a Hell.
It was more than an hour before Skshetuski and his escort
came into the open plain, but in the distance the noise and
bellowing of the cattle in the camp was heard for a long time.
All along the road were traces of devastation. Here and
there the ruins of country houses, columns of smoke from
burning hamlets, down trodden winter wheat, broken trees,
cherry orchards near the cottages cut down for fuel. Upon
the highway lay the corpses of horses and men, frightfully
mangled, blue and swollen, and above them and over them
flocks of ravens and crows, who flew away with a screaming
noise at the approach of the horsemen. Khniyelnitski's

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 203

bloody deeds forced themselves on one's eyes in all directions,
and it was hard to understand against whom this man was
raising his hand, for it was his own land that suffered more
than all from the burden of misery.

In Mleyov tliey met fresh swarms of prisoners whom the
Tartar divisions were driving before them. The fortress had
been burned to the ground, but the fortified clock-tower re-
mained standing and the old oak in the middle of the market-
place was covered with dreadful fruit, for on it hung dozens
of little Jewish children who had been hanged three days
before. A nu inner c ' noblemen from Konopland, Stavsiela,
Vienzovka, Bal^kleya, and Vodacheva had also been mur-
dered. The to\ver itself was deserted, for the men had
joined Khmyelnitski, and the women, children, and old men
had fled into the forests, fearing the arrival of Prince Yere-
my's army. Skshetuski proceeded from here to Smila, Za-
botyn, and Novosielta to Chigrin, stopping on the way only
long enough to rest the horses. The following day at noon
he drove into the town. War had spared it. A few houses
only were destroyed. Among these that of Chaplinski was
levelled to the ground. In the fortress, Lieutenant-Colonel
Naokolo-Palets, together with a thousand Cossacks were liv-
ing in the greatest terror, for here, as elsewhere on the road,
it was generally believed that the prince might come at any
moment and take such vengenance as the world had never
witnessed. It was not known whence these reports had come,
or who had spread them; perhaps fear had inspired them.
p]nough that it was continually repeated that the prince was
already sailing down the Sula, that he was already at the
Dnieper, that he had set fire to Vasiutynts, that he had
slaughtered the inhabitants of Borysa, and the sight of ap-
proaching riders or foot-soldiers caused boundless terror.
Skshetuski eagerly drank in these reports, for it was clear
that even if they were not true, they might yet delay the
rebellion in the Dnieper country, over which the hand of the
prince pressed hard. Skshetuski wanted to learn something
from Naokolo-Palets but it proved that the lieutenant-col-
onel like all the rest knew nothing definite about the prince
and would have liked to have obtained news from Skshetuski;
and, as all the baidaks, canoes, and small boats had been
drawn up on this side of the river, no fugitives from the other
side came to Chigrin.

Skshetuski consequently did not remain long in Chigrin,

204 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD,

but started without delay for Rozloga. The absolute cer-
tainty that he would soon be able to convince himself as to
what had happened to Helena, and the hope that she had
been saved, or had hidden herself with her aunt and the
young princes in Lubni, gave him new strength and health.
He left the wagon behind, and mounted his horse and urged
the Tartars mercilessly onward, who, looking upon him as
an ambassador, and themselves as his bodyguard, and obe-
dient to his command, dared offer no resistance. They fairly
flew, as if they were being pursued, and left beliind them '
clouds of dust thrown up by the hoofs of their little horses.
They passed by farms, hamlets and villages. The land was
desolate; the dwellings without inhabitants, so that for a
long distance they met not a soul. Probably everyone hid as
they approached. Here and there Skshetuski gave orders
that they should look for hives of bees in the gardens, and
for pigs in the cabins but they could find nothing. It was
not untirthey got to Pohreba that one of the Tartars noticed
a human form crouching in the reeds on the banks of the
Kahamlik.

The Tartars sprang towards him and in a few moments led
forward two perfectly naked men. One of them was an old
man, the other a slender boy of sixteen or seventeen years
of age; their teeth chattered with fright, and they could not
utter a word.

"Where did you come from?'^ asked Skshetuski.

"We come from nowhere," answered the old man. "Wc
go from door to door with a lyre. This dumb boy leads me."

"Where did you come from last, from what village? Speak
out boldly, nothing will happen to you."

"We came through all the villages, sir, until a devil tore
our clothes from our body, just here. We had good boots,
he took them from us — we had good caps, he took them
from us — we had good clothes that had been given us
through kind charity, he took them from us, and he did not
even leave us our lyre."

"I asked you, idiot, from what village you came."

"I do not know, sir. I am an old man; you see we are
naked, at night we freeze, by day we seek compassionate
people, begging for food and clothing. We are hungry!"

"Listen, peasant, answer me what I ask you, or I will have
you strung up."

"I know nothing, sir. If I know anything, or anything
happens, may I . . . "

WITH FIRE AND SWOtW. ^05

It was clear that the old beggar could not make out who
it was who asked these questions and so had resolved to give
no answer.

"Have you been in Rozloga, where the Princes Kurtsevich
Uver

"I do not knoW;, sir."

"Strangle him/' cried Skshetuski.

"Yes, sir/' answered the old man, when he saw that they
were not trifling.

**What did you see there?"

"We were there five days ago and then we heard in Brov-
aka that some knights had gone there,"

"What kind of knights?"

"1 do not know sir. Some said Poles, the others said
Cossacks."

"To horse!" cried Skshetuski, to the Tartars.

They flew over the ground. The sun went down just as
it did that evening when the lieutenant, after his first meet-
ing with Helena and the -princess, had riden alongside them
as they drove in Rozvan's carriage. The Kahamlik gleamed
in just such a purple glow, the day was closing more quietly,
more warmly, now, but, on that other day, Skshetuski pur-
sued his way with a heart full of happiness and full of the
feeling of awakened love. And now, he rushed along, like a
lost soul, a prey to unrest and evil forebodings. Presenti-
ments and voices of despair cried in his soul: *'Bohun has
taken her away by force, thou wilt never see her again/' but
the voice of hope cried: "The princess is there, she is saved/'
and these voices dragged him this way and that, until his
heart was nearly broken. The horses galloped along with
what was left of strength and energy. Hour by hour passed,
the moon appeared above the horizon and rose higher and
higher and beamed ever with a paler light. The horses were
covered with foam and panted heavily. They had come to
the forest. They flew past it like arrows. They had come
to the ravine and behind the ravine lav Rozloga. A mo-
ment more and the Icnighfs fate would be decided. The
wind whistled in his ears from their rapid pace; his cap had
fallen from his head; his horse groaned beneath him as if he
would soon fall to the ground: another moment, another
leap and the ravine was before him. Already, already!

Suddenly a terrific unearthly cry came from SkshetusM's
lips.

^06 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^*V/) STTOAD.

The house, the bam, the stables, the granaries, the pali-
sades, and the cherry-orchard — all had disappeared.

The pale moon looked down upon an elevation, upon which
was a dark heap of ashes which had already ceased to smoke.
No sound broke the silence. Skshetuski stood speechless by
the moat. He only raised his hands towards Heaven, and
looked and looked, and shook his head. The Tartars halted
their horses; he got down and looked for the remains of the
bridge, lie crossed the moat upon a cross-piece and sat upon
a stone that lay in the middle of the courtyard. He sat
down and began to look around hira like a man who visits
a place for the first time and tries to find out where he is.
He seemed unconscious. He did not utter a sigh. After a
few moments he placed his hands on his knees and buried
his head between them, and remained in that position so
long one might have thought he was asleep. Although he
was not asleep he was stunned, and dim pictures instead of
thoughts passed through his brain. First he saw Helena, as
when he had taken leave of her before his last journey, except
that her face seemed to be veiled wath mist, so that he could
not distinguish her features. He sought to take her out of
this mist but could not, and left her therefore with a heavy
heart. Then there passed through his mind the market-
place at ('higrin; old Zatsvilikhovski, and Zagloba's impudent
face. This face stood out with remarkable clearness before
his vision until it was finally blotted out by (rrodsitski's
gloomy countenance. Then he seemed to see Kudak, tlie
Porog, the battle at Khortyts, Sich, the whole journey, and
all the occurrences to the last day — to the last hour. From
that out, all was darkness. What Vi^as now happening, he
understood but vaguely; he had only a dim impression that
he was travelling to Helena, to Rozloga; that his strength
had given out and he was resting upon the ashes. He wished
to rise and continue his journey, but an immeasurable weak-
ness chained him to the spot as though a hundred pound
cannon-ball were fastened to his feet.

He sat and sat. Night passed. The Tartars prepared to
rest, made up the fire and began to roast pieces of horseflesh.
When they were satisfied, they lay on the ground.

But an hour had not passed before they sprang up in
haste.

In the distance they heard a tramp as of a large body
of horsemen riding at full speed. The Tartars hastily fas-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 207

tened a white .rag to a stick and made the fire burn up
brightly, so that they might be recognized from a distance
as messengers of peace. The tramping of horses, neighing
and clashing of swords came nearer and at length a division
of horsemen was seen on the road, who immediately sur-
rounded the Tartars.

A short parley followed. The Tartars pointed to the figure
who sat among the ruins who could be very easily recognized
as the moonlight fell upon him; and explained that he was
an ambassador, from whom, they would leave it to himself
to say.

The leader of the division accompanied by a few of his
companions walked over to the elevation where Skshetuski
sat, but hardly had he approached and looked mto the face
of the man who was sitting there than he stretched out his
hands and cried:

"Skshetuski! By the living God, Skshetuski!"

The lieutenant did not tremble.

"Lieutenant, do you not recognize me. I am Bikhovyets.
What is the matter with you?" The lieutenant was silent.

"Wake up, for God's sake! Hey, comrades, come here!"

It was indeed Pan Bikhovyets who was riding in the van-
guard of Prince Yeremy's entire forces.

Meanwhile other rt>giments had arrived. The news of the
discovery of Skshetuski had been carried with the swiftness
of the wind from one regiment to another and all hastened
to the spot to greet their favorite comrade. Little Volodi-
yovski, both the Sleszinskis, Dzik, Orgishevski, Migurski,
Yakubovitch, Lents, Pan Longin, Podbipyenta, and a num-
ber of other officers made a bet to see which would reach the
top of the elevation first; but it was in vain that they ques-
tioned him; that they called him by his name; that they
shook him by the shoulders; endeavored to make him sit
up, — Skshetuski looked at them with large wide-open eyes,
but recognized no one. Or, rather, it seemed as if he knew
no one, as if everything was indiiferent to him. Then those
who knew of his love for Helena, and almost all knew, re-
memebered where he was and, as they looked at the black
cinders and grey ashes they understood why he was silent.

"He has lost his mind through sorrow," one whispered.

"Despair has driven him crazy."

"Take him to the prince; perhaps he will come to himself
when he sees him."

203 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Longin wrung his hands; they all stood round Skshetuski
in a circle and looked at him passionately. Some wiped their
tears away with their coat sleeves; others sighed sadly.

Presently a stately figure approached, went up slowly to
the lieutenant and laid both hands on his head. It was the
priest, Mukhovyetski.

All were silent and knelt down as if they expected a mir-
acle but the priest did not perform this miracle. He only
continued to hold his hands on Skshetuski's head, lifted his
eyes to Heaven, which was illuminated by the bright light
of the moon, and began to say aloud:

"Pater, Nosier, qui es in coelisf sandificatur nomen luumyQiU
veniat regmum luum, fiat voluntas tua! ..."

Here he broke off, and after a moment he repeated more
loudly and solemnly:

"... Fiat voluntas tua! ..."

A profound silence reigned.

"... Fiat voluntas tua! ..." Repeated the
priest for the third time.

Then from Skshetuski's lips issued a voice of intense pain,
but also of resignation.

"8icut in coeh, et in terra !^'

And the knight threw himself sobbing to the ground.

fA-,

■vV?^-*^ ■ ^^^^

f* . .^::.-^

I

THE RUINS OF ROZLOGA.

W^A Fir# and Svuora,

BOOK 11.

14

CHAPTER I.

In order to explain more clearly what had happened in
Rozloga, we must go back to the night when Skshetuski sent
JenJzian from Kudak with letters to the old princess. These
letters contained the earnest entreaty that the princess would
go to Lubni as soon as possible and place Helena under the
care of Prince Yeremy, as war might begin at any moment.
Jendzian embarked on the skiff which Grodzitski was send-
ing out from Kudak to bring back gunpowder, and began his
journey. They progressed slowly, for they were sailing against
the stream. At Kremenchuk they came upon the detach-
ment which was under the command of Kshechovski and
Barabash, who had been sent by the hetman to encounter
Khmyelnitski. Jendzian spoke with Barabash, and told him
at the same time of the dangers which threatened Skshetuski
on his journey to Sich. He therefore begged the old colonel
when he should encounter Khmyelnitski not to forget to in-
sist upon the return of the ambassador. He then continued
his journey.

They reached (.'higrin at dayl)reak. Here they were soon
surrounded by the Semenovs watch, who asked who they
were; they answered, that they came from Kudak and had
letters from (-oloncl Grodzitski to the hetmans. In spite of
this, they called to Jendzian and the others from the boat to
give an account of themselves to the colonel.

"To what colonel?" asked the captain of the boat.

"To (blonel Lol)oda,'' answered the sergeant of the post,
who had received orders from the (.hief Hetman to stop and
search all persons who came from Sich to Chigrin.

They landed. Jendzian stepped forward boldly, as he
feared no harm, for he saw that the power of the hetman
reached even as far as here. They were conducted by the
Bellringer Vengla to the house of Pan eTalenski, where were
the quarters of Colonel Loboda. Here they were told that the
colnriel had ridden early in the morninE^ to Cherkass and that
the lieutenant-colonel represented him. They waited some

21 I

212 ^VJ'^f^ ^'iKE AXD i^WORD.

time until the door opened, and the expected lieutenant-col-
onel appeared in the room.

At sight of him, Jendzian's knees trembled.

It was Bohun. •

The power of the hetman extended in truth still over Chi-
grin, but, because Loboda and Bohun had not yet gone over to
Khmyelnitski but rather openly attached themselves to the
Commonwealth, the Chief Hetman had stationed them in
Chigrin and commanded them to be watchful.

Bohun sat down at the table and began to question the
new arrivals. The older man who carried with him Qrodzit-
ski's letters, spoke for himself and for Jendzian. After the
young lieutenant-colonel had looked at the letter he began to
inquire particularly what was going on in Kudak. He had
evidently a <.',reat desire to find out why Grodzitski was send-
ing men and a boat to the Chief Hetman, but the captain
could give him no answer and the letters were sealed with
Grodzitski's signet. Bohun had finished questioning them
and was going to send them away, and was looking in his
pocket for somethng to give them when the door opened, and
Zagloba burst into the room.

"Listen, Bohun,*' he cried, "that traitor Dopula has hidden
away the best mead. I went with him into the cellar — ^and
what did T see? Nothing but piles of hay in the comer.
What is that, I asked dryly. 'Dry.' he said. T looked closer,
and what did T see but the neck of the bottle sticking out
like a Tartar out of the grass. Ho! Ho! that's what you're
up to, sonnie, I said, let us divide the labor; you eat the hay,
for you are an ox; and 1 will drink the mead, for I am a
man; and here's the big Imttle T brought with me. Give it a
fair trial. Give me a cup?"

Then Zagloba placed one hand on his side, with the other
he raised the bottle above his head and began to sing:

Hey ! Yafrnsh, Hey ! Kundush frive me the bowl "
And Kive a kiss also and care for nought else.'*

Suddenly Zagloba stopped singing — ^he had caught sight of
Jendzian — and placing the bottle on the table he said:

"Hey! By God! That is Pan Skshetuski's boy!"

"Whose?" asked Bohun sharply.

"Skshetuski's! The lieutenant who went to Kudak and be-
fore his journey treated me to such excellent mead that he
brought from Lubni, that all the rest may hide itself away so

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 213

far as I am concerned. What's happening to your master?
What's he doing, is he well?"

"Well, and greets you/' said Jendzian in confusion.

"Oh, that is a splendid cavalier! And you, how did you
get to Chigrin? Why did your master send you away from
Kudak?"

"My master had so much business in Lubni, and it was on
account of that he commanded me to return. 1 had nothing
to do in Kudak."

All this time Bohun was observing Jendzian keenly. Sud-
denly he said:

"I know your master also. I saw him in Kozloga."

Jendzian turned his head and listened as though he had
not heard distinctly, and asked:

"Where?''

"In Rozloga."

"That belongs to the Kurtseviches," said Zagloba.

"To whom?" asked Jendzian.

"I see you're a little hard of hearing," remarked Bohun
dryly.

"Because I have not had enough sleep."

"You can have your sleep out. So you say your master has
sent you to Lubni?"

"Yes."

"No doubt he has a sweetheart there," said Zagloba, "to
whom he is sending his love through you."

"What do I know, worthy Sir, perhaps so and perhaps not,"
said Jendzian.

He then bowed to Bohun and Zagloba.

"Praise be!" he said, as he turned to leave the room.

"Forevermore," answered Bohun. "Wait a minute, my
boy, do not hurry. Why did you conceal from me that you
were Colonel Skshetuski's servant?"

"Because, worthy sir, you did not ask me and I thought to
myself, *Why should I talk unnecessarily. Praise be . . . .'"

"Wait, I say, you have letters from your master?"

"It is my master's business to write them; and mine, as his
servant, to deliver them. But only to the one to whom they
are addressed; therefore, allow me, sir, to take my leave of
you gentlemen."

Bohun knitted his heavy eyebrows and clapped his hands.
Immediately two Semenovs sprang into the room.

"Search him," he cried, pointing fo Jendzian.

214 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

"As I live! Murder!" cried Jendzian. "I am a nobleman,
even if I am in service, and you will answer for this act before
the tribunal."

"Bohun, let him alone," said Zagloba.

But meanwhile one of the men had already found two let-
ters in Jendzian 's breast-pocket and handed them to the lieu-
tenant-colonel. Bohun at once commanded the servants to
retire, for he could not read and did not want to acknowledge
it before them. Then turning to Zagloba, he said:

"Read this, I will watch the boy."

Zagloba closed his left eye which had a speck on it, and read
the address. "To my worthy lady and mistress. Her Excel-
lency the Princes Kurtsevich, in Rozloga."

"So little falcon, you are travelling to Lubni, and do not
know where Rozloga is," said Bohun looking at Jendzian
with a frightful glance.

"I am travelling where I am ordered to go," answered the
boy.

**Shall I open it? A nobleman's seal is sacred," remarked
Zagloba.

"The Chief ITetman has given me the right to inspect all
letters here. Open and read."

Zagloba opened the letter and read:

"Most Gracious lady, etc., you will be pleased to know that
I have already reached Kudak whence, with (jiod's help, I
hope to leave safely to-morrow morning for Sich; and 1 am
writing at night, as I cannot sleep for anxiety lest any harm
shouhl happen to you, through that villain Bohun or his col-
leagues. As Colonel Christopher Grodzitski told me yester-
day that a great war w^ould soon break out, in which the
entire "blacks" would take part, I conjure and entreat
you, even if the steppes are not dry and you are obliged to
travel on horseback, to set out at once with the young princess
for Lubni and not to delay on any account, as I cannot re-
turn as soon as I expected. Let me implore Your Grace to
grant my request that 1 may be able to count on my promised
bliss and be happy on my return. And why should Your
( I race trifle with Bohun and throw dust in his eyes after
having promised the girl to me; it would be far better to place
her under the protection of my lord the prince who will not
delay to send a garrison to Rozloga, by which means your
property will be saved."

"Ha! Sir Bohun," said Zagloba, "the knight is trying to

WITH FIRE AND SWORD , 215

put horns on you. So you've been toasting the same girl!
Why did you say nothing about it? But take comfort, the
same thing has also happened to me "

Zagloba brought his anecdote to an end. The words sud-
denly died on his lips. Bohun sat immovable at the table,
but his face was pale and looked as if drawn by convulsion;
his eyes were closed, his forehead wrinkled; he was under-
going a frightful struggle.

"What ails you?" asked Zagloba.

The Cossack beat the air with his hand feverishly, and
from his lips came in weak, hoarse tones:

"Read, read the second writing."

The second writing is to Princess Helena.

"Read! Read!"

Zagloba began:

"Sweetest, dearest Ilalshka, my hearths mistress and queen:
As I am obliged to remain here some time longer in the
prince's service, I am writing to your aunt to say that you
both ought to go to Lubni as soon as possible, where no danger
from Bohun can threaten your innocence, and where nothing
can stand in the way of our love "

"Enough," screamed Bohun; suddenly he jumped like a
madman from the table and sprang towards Jendzian. The
axe he held in his hand whirled through the air and the un-
lucky boy whom the axe had hit in the breast groaned and fell
to the ground. Bohun was perfectly mad with rage. He
sprang towards Zagloba, and snatched the letter from him.

Zagloba seized the bottle of mead, retreated behind the
stove, and cried:

"In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy
(jhost! Man are you mad? Are you raving? Be quiet!
Calm yourself. Stick your head in a bucket of water. A
thousand devils! — do you hear me?"

"Blood! Blood!" howled Bohun.

"Have you lost your reason? Stick your head in a bucket
of water, I say. You have already got blood; you have spilled
it, spilled innocent blood, this unlucky boy breathes no lon-
ger. The devil has taken possesson of you — or you are the
devil himself; come to yourself, if not, then go to the devil,
you son of a Pagan!"

Then Zagloba glided from the other side of the table to-
ward Jendzian; bent over him, felt his breast and laid his
hand on his mouth from which the blood was flowing freely.

2j6 with Fins A\D SWORD.

I^iliun meanuliiJe had clutched hi? head with both hands,
u'hinin;r like a wounded wolf; then he fell on the bench and
continued to whinifK^r uncea>iin^ly, for his heart was break-
ing with ra^e and pain. Suddenly he sprang up, hastened to
the dc>or, kicked! it o[X'n and sprang into the hall.

"(io and break your neck/' murmured Zagloba to himself.
"Go and da^^h your head a^rainj^t the stable, or against the
bam, if you can butt like the cattle with your head. I call
that ra/rin;r madness! 1 have never seen anything like it in
my life. 11 is teelh snapi>ed like a rabid dog. But the poor
boy yet lives. Truly if this mead does not help him, he must
have told a lie when he said he l>elonged to the nobility."

Zagloba rested Jendzian's head against his knee and slowly
pour< d a few drops of mead between his blue lips. '*We will
see if you have noble 1 lood in you," he continued to the faint-
ing boy, "for Jewish bb)od boils when you pour in mead or
wine; peasants' blood is lazy and heavy and sinks to the
ground. Only noble blood becomes animated and forms an
excellent liquid which gives the body courage and energy.
The I^rd gave each nation a different drink, in order that
each one might have its comfort "

Jendzian groaned feebly.

**Alia! Aha! he wants some more! No, little brother, let
me have one draught. . . . Ah! thats good. And now, as
you have shown some signs of life, 1 will take you out into
the stable and lay you in a corner, that this Cossack dragon
may not tear you to pieces when he returns. He is a danger-
ous friend, — devil take him! I see that his hand is more
ready than his understanding."

Zagloba lifted Jendzan from the ground with an ease which
hi?* enormous strength made easy and carried him into the
halls and through the yard where several Semenovs were
throwing dice on a cloth spread on the ground. When they
saw him, they saluted him, but he said:

*'Fioys, take this fellow and lay him on the hay and one
of you run and get me the barber-surgeon."

The command was at once carried out, for as Bohun's
friend, Zaa^loba was treated with great respect by the Cossacks.

"And where is the colonel?" he asked.

"He called for his horse and rode into the camp. He told
lis to hold ourselves in readiness and to saddle the horses."

"Is mine ready then?"

"Yes, bit:'

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. 217

"Bring it here! So I shall find the colonel with the regi-
ment r

"There he comes!"

In the dark arched doorway of the house, Bohun appeared.
He came riding over from the market-place; behind him in
the distance were seen the lances of a hundred or more Cos-
sacks, who were evidently ready to march.

"To horse!" cried Bohun across the yard, to the men who
had remained behind. Presently all were moving. Zagloba
stepped out of the gate and scanned the young Cossack leader
carefully with his eyes.

"You're going to set out?" he asked.

"I am."

"And whither is the devil leading you?"

"To a wedding."

Zagloba drew closer to him.

"Fear God, my son! The hetman commanded you to guard
the town, and you are going away yourself and also taking
the Semenovs with you! You are breaking his command.
The black mob are only waiting for a suitable opportunity to
attack the nobility; you are abandoning the town to destruc-
tion and exposing yourself to the hetman's anger."

"May they both go to destruction, the town and the het-
man!"

"Your head is at stake.''

"May my head also go to destruction."

Zagloba saw that talking to him would do no good. He
had set his mind upon this and whether he destroyed himself,
as well as others, he would abide by his resolve. Zagloba also
surmised whither he was going, but did not himself know
what to do; whether he should ride with Bohun or remain
here. It would be dangerous to accompany him. It meant
adventures and risk of life in these warlike and rough times;
but if he remained here? The peoplq were, in fact, only wait-
ing for news from Sich, for the moment when the signal shall
be given for slaughter. Indeed, they might not even have
awaited that signal if Bohun's thousand men and his powerful
influence had not been in the Ukraine. Zagloba might, in-
deed, seek shelter in the camp of the hetmans, but whether
it was on account of some murder or some error in his ac-
counts he himself only knew; certain it was that he did not
wish to be seen. He was sorry to leave Chigrin for he felt
at bis ease here. One asked him no questions. He was on

2i8 ^tTH FIRE A^D SWORD.

good tenns with the nohiHty, with the landed proprietors,
and with the Cossack chief*; these latter were now indeed dis-
trihuted in all directions, and the nobility sat quietly in their
corners from dread of the stomi. }5ut liohun was a most
excellent companon, a drinker amon^ drinkers. Zagloba and
Bohun had made each other's acquaintance over their cups
and had at once struck up a friendship. From that time one
never saw one without the other. The Cossack threw away
enough gold pieces for two; the nobleman told lies, and both
these restless spirits were very happy in each other's company.

Now, that he had to decide whether he would remain in
Chigrin and give himself up to the knives of the ^'blacks," or
set out with Bohun; he decided on the latter course.

"If you are so determined," he said, "I will go with you.
Perhaps I may be of some aj?sistance to you or may be able
to restrain you if necessary. We suit each other as well as
the hook fits the eye, but I did not expect this.'^

Bohun answered nothing.

Half an hour later, two hundred Semenovs stood in march-
ing order. Bohun rode to their head and, beside him, Zag-
loba. They moved forward. The peasants standing in groups,
here and there, in the market-place, looked at them with fear
and whispered to one another. They asked one another
whither they were going and if they would soon return or not.

Bohun rode silent, reticent, full of mystery, and gloomy as
night. The Semenovs did not ask whither he was leading
them. They were ready to follow^ him to the end of the world.

After they had crossed the Dnieper, they came to the high-
way of Lubni. The horses trotted along and threw up clouds
of dust, although, as the day was dry and close, they were
soon covered with foam. They slackened their pace and
moved like a straggling band along the highway, l^esently,
Zagloba endeavored to begin a conversation with Bohun.

The face of the young knight was more calm, but a mortal
sorrow was depicted in his features. It seemed as though the
distance in which his glance lost itself towards the north,
beyond the Kamhalik, the tramp of the horses and the air of
the steppes had quieted the inward storm that had been
aroused in him by Jandzian's letters.

^Fire is falling from heaven," said Zagloba. "The straw in
my boots is burning, and my linen smock is too warm, for
there is not a breath of air. Listen, Bohun, Bohun!"

The Cossack leader looked at him with his deep-set, blaclt;
eyes as though he had just awakened from sleep.

WITH FIRE AND .<^WORD.

2T9

"Look out for yourself, little son," said Zagloba, "lest
nieJaneholy devour you, for when it rises from the liver,
which is its proper place, to the head, it is capable of dis-
turbing one's reason. 1 did not know that you were such an
amorous gentleman. You must have been born in May and
tlmt is the niopth of Venus, in which the air is so full of love
lluit one splinter is in love with another. Men who are born
in this month have in their bones a stronger desire for the op-
posite sex tlian other men; but those win, who know how to
control themselves; therefore I advise you to give in. You
may be right in your rage against the Kurtseviches, but is
there only one girl in the world ?''

Bohun, not as if he were speaking to Zagloba, but as if in
answer to his own sorrow, said in a voice that was more like
crying than talking:

"Only this one zazula (cuckoo), only this one in the world!''

"But if that were so, and she now loves another, what
good will it do you? It is well said that the heart is a volun-
teer that serves under what flag it chooses. Consider, also,
the girl rs of great blood, for the Kurtseviches belong, as I
hear, to a princely stock. That's a high threshold to step
over!"

"To the devil with your thresholds, your parchments, your
families, and — " here the chief struck his sword-hilt with all
his might — "this is my high birth and my parchment; this
is my kin and my parchment! Oh, ye traitors! Cursed blood
of the enemy! Was not the (^ossack good enough for you,
wa^ he not your friend and brother when he went into the
Crimea, when you said ^brinfj back some Turkish spoils.
Divide the booty.' Ah! they did that, sure enough; called
me little son, y)romised the girl! and now — a nobleman comes
along, a petted Polish boy, and on the spot they send away
the Cossack, the friend, the brother — they have torn my
heart in my body; they have martyred my soul; they give the
girl to another and thou, bite the dust, Cossack, and bear
it "

His voice trembled; he clenched his teeth, beat his breast
with his closed fists so that an echo was heard. Then fol-
lowed a silence. Bohun breathed heavily, pain and anger
raged alternately in the savage breast of the Cossack, who
knew no re.^'traint. Zagloba waited until he should become
exhausted and calm himself.

"What do you think of doing, unhappy bully? How will
you act?"

220 ^^^^ ^'/^^ ^Vi) SWORD.

"Like a Cossack. In the manner of the Cossack."

"llm! I see well what will happen, but let it happen! One
thing only I will tell you that we are in Vishnyovyetski's do-
minions, and Lubni is not far from here. Skshetuski has
written to the princess to seek shelter there, that means, that
they are under the protection of the prince an^ the prince is
a terrible lion." ....

"The Khan is also a lion, and yet I ran into his jaws and
lighted up his eyes with torches."

"What, madman? Do you wish to declare war against the
prince?"

"Khmyel has dared to declare war against the hetmans, why
not against your prince?"

Zagloba became every moment more uneasy.

"Fie! To the devil with you! That is rebellion pure and
simple. ^Vis armata' 'rapia puellae/ ^et rebellia' — that is to
say, hangmen, gallows, and the noose. A fine coach and six!
You may get high with it, if not far. The Kurtseviches will
defend themselves."

"Well! my death or theirs. Look here, I would have given
my soul for these Kurtseviches. They were as my brothers
and the old princess was a mother to me, into whose eyes I
looked with the fidelity of a dog! And, when the Tartars
captured Yasil, who went into the Crimea, who set him free?
— I. I have loved them and served them as a slave, because
I hoped to win this girl; and, as a reward, they have betrayed

me; betrayed me like a slave, into sorrow and misery

They have driven me away — well, I will go; but, first, I will
take my love; for the bread and salt that I have eaten at their
table I will repay them in Cossack fashion — and then I will
go, for I know my road."

"Where will you go when yon begin to fight the prince?
Into Khmyel's camp?"

"If they had given me this girl, I would have been your
brother, your friend, your sword, your sworn soul; your dog;
and I would have taken my men, would have recalled the
others from the Ukraine, and then I would have marched
against Khmyel and against my own brothers, the Zaporo-
jians. And would I demand a reward for this? — No! I
would take the girl and would move to the other side of the
Dnieper, into God's free steppes; into the wild caves and near
the still waters — ^and I would have been satisfied — and

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 22 1

"And now you are raving mad."

The chief tan did not answer, but gave his horse a crack
with the whip and rode forward. Zagloba began to reflect
into what a position he had got himself. There was no doubt
that Bohun intended to attack the Kurtseviches to avenge
the injustice done him, and carry ott' the girl by force, and, in
this undertaking, Zagloba would have rendered him assist-
ance. Such happenings were not uncommon in the Ukraine
and frequently passed unpunished. It is true, as the aggres-
sor was not a nobleman, the matter became more involved
and more dangerous; but oh the other hand it was very hard
to carry out a sentence on a Cossack, for where could one
look for him or capture him? After the deed he usually fled
into the wildest steppes, where no human hand could reach
him — ^and disappeared; and, if a war broke out, if the Tartars
covered the land, then the criminal came to light; for then
the laws were suspended. In this way Bohun could escape
justice, and Zagloba did not need to help him and take half
the blame on his own shoulders. He would not have done
it, in any case; for even if Bohun was his friend it would not
become Zagloba, as a nobleman, to make common cause with
a Cossack against another nobleman, especially as he knew
Skshetuski and had drunk with him.

Zagloba was a quarrelsome fellow but his turbulence knew
certain bounds. He was glad to lounge about in the wine-
shops of Chigrin with Bohun and the other Cossack com-
manders, especially when they paid the way — that suited him
very well; in view of the Cossack trouble, it was even a good
thing to have such men as friends. Zagloba took great care
of his own skin though he might get a scratch here and there
— but now he began to see that this friendship had led him
on slippery ice. It was clear that, if Bohun kidnapped the
girl who was the betrothed of the lieutenant, the favorite of
the prince, he would have to settle with the prince; and then
there would be nothing left for him to do but to go over
to Khmyelnitski and join the rebellion. Against this course,
Zagloba placed a decided veto as far as his own person was
concerned. For he did not fancy joining the rebellion on
account of Bohun's love affair and, besides, he feared the
prince as he feared fire.

"Tut, tut!" he mumbled to himself, "I have twisted the
devil's tail and now he will twist my neck. The devil take
this Cossack, with the face of a woman and the hands of a

222 ^^^^ FJ^E ^^'^ SWORD.

Tartar! Fve gone to a fine wedding, truly! May the light-
ning strike the Kurtseviches, and all the women! What do I
care about them? 1 do not need them any more! Whatever
happens I shall get the worst of it. And for what? Do I
wish to get married? The Devil may get married, it is all
the same to me. What have 1 to do with this undertaking?
If I go with Bohun, Vishnyovyetski will flay me alive; if I
leave Bohun, the peasants will kill me, or he will do it him-
self, without hesitating. It is the worst thing in the world
to be on friendly terms with a boor. It serves me right. I
would rather be tlie horse on which I am mounted than Zag-
loba. I have become the fool of the Cossack. I have at-
tached myself to this crazy head. It serves me right that I
should be fliayed on both sides."

These reflections caused Zagloba to perspire freely and
made him still more gloomy. The heat was intense; the
horse travelled with difficulty, for he had not exercised for
some time and Zagloba was corpulent. Good Heavens! what
would he have given to be sitting now in the cool shade,
in the inn, with a glass of cold beer before hirn, instead of
being tormented by the heat and obliged to tear through
the burning steppes.

Although Bohun urged speed, the pace grew slower, for
the heat was frightful. The horses were fed lightly and,
during that time, Bohun conversed with the sergeants. He
gave them commands as to what they were to do, for until
now, they did not even know where they were riding to. The
last words of the command reached Zagloba's ear.

"Wait for the shot."

"Good! little father!"

Bohun turned to him sudcdnly.

"You will ride ahead with me."

"I," said Zagloba in very evident bad humor. "I love you
so much that I've already sweated half my soul out of my
body. Why should I not give you the other half? We are
like vest and lining. I hope that the devil will take us both
together and I do not care how soon, for I think that it
cannot be any hotter in hell than it is here.^*

"Forward!"

"At breakneck speed."

They rode forward, the Cossacks following them, but as
these rode more slowly, they soon were a considerable distance
in the rear, and finally were lost to sight.

WITH FIRfJ A>:D sword. 223

Bohun and Zagloba rode in silence, side by side, both
sunk in deep thought. Zagloba tugged at his moustache and,
evidently, was doing some deep thinking. Perhaps he was
considering in what manner he could get himself out of the
whole affair. From time to time, he muttered to himself,
then he looked at Bohun, in whose features unbridled rage
and melancholy were alternately depicted.

"Remarkable !" said Zagloba to himself, "such a handsome
fellow, and yet not able to win the girl. He is a Cossack —
that is true; but a distinguished knight and lieutenant-col-
onel who, sooner or later if he does not join the rebellion,
will be ennobled. It all depends on himself. Skshetuski is
a fine, well-built cavalry ofiicer but canot compare in beauty
with this graceful Cossack. Eh! they will tear each other's
eyes out when they meet, for they are both of them good
fighters."

"Bohun, do you know Skshetuski well?" asked Zagloba.

"No," answered the Cossack leader curtly.

"You will have a hard fight with him. I saw him when
he pushed the door open with Chaplinski. He is a Goliath
with the goblc , as well as the sword."

The leader did not answer. They both relapsed into their
own thoughts and cares. Zagloba repeated from time to
time "So, so! there is nothing to be done!"

Several hours passed; the sun had passed over towards the
direction of C-higrin. From the East, there blew a cool
breeze. Zagloba took off his cap of lynx skin, passed his
hand over his perspiring head and again repeated:

"So, so! there is nothing to be clone."

Bohun started as if he had been suddenly awakened from
sleep.

"What did you say?' 'he asked.

"I said it would soon be dark. Have we far to go yet?"

"Not far."

In an hour it became dark, but they rode into the ravine
of the wood and, as they reached the end, on the other side,
they saw Uie glimmer of a light.

"That i.^ Rozloga," said Bohun suddenly.

"Indecfl. >)rrr! it is cold in this ravine."

Bohun reined in his horse.

"Wait," he said.

Zagloba looked at him. The chief's eyes, which had the
peculiarity of shining in the darkness, glowed now like two
torches.

5^^ WITH Fiith: ASh HWokD.

They both stood motionlegs, on the edge of the ravine;
presently was heard the snorting of approaching horses.
Bohun's men were slowly coming from the depths of the
wood. The sergeant approached, in order to receive his
commands which Bohun whispered into his ear. Then the
Cossacks halted.

"Let us ride on," said Bohun to Zagloba.

Before long, the dark outlines of the dwelling-house, the
storehouses, and the wells, stood before their eyes. All was
still in the house. The dogs did not bark, the great, yellow
moon stood above the courtyard. From the garden came
the fragrance of cherry, and apple-blossoms; all was so peace-
ful; the night so glorious, that all that seemed wanting was
a theorlo beneath the windows of the beautiful young prin-
cess. There was light in some of the windows.

The two horsemen approached the gate. "

"Who's there?" cried the voice of the night-watch.

"Do you not recognize me, Maxim?"

"Is it your Grace? Praised be God."

"For ever and ever. Open. How are you all?"

"All well. It is a long time since Your Grace was in Roz-
loga."

The door-hinges creaked terribly, the bridge was let down,
and both knights rode into the courtyard.

"Listen, Maxim, do not close the gate, and do not draw up
the bridge, for I shall soon go away."

"You come as if you only wanted fire."

"That's it; that's it. Tie the horses to the post."

CHAPTER II.

The Kurtseviches were not yet asleep; they sat at the
supper table in the hall that was hung with weapons, which
ritretched the whole breadth of the house, from the court-
yard to the other side of the garden. As they saw Bohun
and Zagloba, they sprang from their places in affright. In
the features of the princess, one might read not only aston-
ishment, but annoyance and fear at the same time. Only
two of the young princes were present, Simeon and Nicholas.

"Bohun," said the princess, "what are you doing here?"

"I came in order to bring you my greeting, mother? What,
am I not welcome?"

"Very welcome, I was only astonished that you had left
your guard in Chigrin. And whom has the dear God sent
with you?^

"This is Pan Zagloba, a nobleman, my friend."

"Be welcome," said the princess.

"Welcome," repeated Simeon and Nicholas.

"Gracious Lady," said Zagloba, " 'a guest at the wrong
time is worse than a Tartar,' says the old proverb; but they
also say, 'whoever will get to Heaven must receive the wan-
dered into his house; must feed the hungry; must give drink
to thos(; who thirst* ..."

"Well, sit down and eat and drink," said the old princess.
"We thank you for having come. Well now, Bohun, I had
not expected you. You must have something important to
talk to us about."

"It may well be," said the chief slowly.

"And what may it be?" said the princess uneasily.

"We will talk about that at a convenient moment. Let
me rest. I have come at ful speed direct from Chigrin."

"You evidently wore in a great hurry to see us."

"And whom should I be in a hurry to see if not all of you?
And is the young princess well?"

"She is well," said the princess dryly.

"I should like to see the joy of my eyes."

15 225

226 ft"^^^ ^'^^^ ^^^ SWOJtt).

"Helena is asleep."

"That is a pity, for I shall not remain here long."

"And where are you riding to?"

"It is war mother! Time presses. At any moment, the
Hetmans may take the field; and it would grieve me to fight
the Zaporojians. How often we rode with them to get Tur-
kish booty — did we not, princess? How often did we go on
the sea; how often did we eat bread and salt together; drink
and joke together; and now we are their enemies."

The princess loked sharply at Bohun. The thought darted
through her mind that Bohun, perhaps, intended to join the
rebellion, and had come to Rozloga to sound her sons.

"And what do you think of doing," she asked.

"I, mother? Well, it is very hard to fight against one's
own, but it must be."

"We will do the same," said Simeon.

"Khmyelnitski is a traitor," added the younger brother,
Nicholas.

"Death to traitors!" said Bohun.

"The devil take them!" added Zagloba.

Bohun again spoke.

"So it is in the world! He who is your friend to-day, will
be a Judas to you to-morrow. You can trust no one in the
world."

"Only' good people," said the princess.

"Certainly, only good people one can trust; that is why
I trust and love you, for you are good people, and no traitors

There was such a strange tone in the chieftain's voice that
for a moment there was deep silence. Zagloba looked at the
princess and blinked with his sound eye. The princess, how-
ever, fixed her eyes on Bohun, who continued:

"War does not give life, but death; that is why I wanted to
see you once more, before I moved. Who knows if I shall
return? And you will mourn for me, for you are my true
friends, are you not?"

"As true as God lives. We have known you since you
were a child."

"You are our brother," added Simeon.

"You are princes, noblemen, and you did not despise the
Cossack. You received him into your house; promised him
your relative, because you knew that, without her there wafi
no life, no existence for the Cossack. So you received the
Cossack with kindness/'

WTTH FIRE AND SWORD. 227

^^hy do you talk about that?" said the princess hastily.

"No, mother we must talk about it, for you are my bene-
factors; and I have prayed this nobleman, my friend, to
adopt me as his son and give me his coat-of-arms that 1 may
be no disgrace to you to give your relative to a Cossack. Pan
Zagloba has promised me and we will both demand permis-
sion to do so in the Diet; and, after the war, I will ask the
Chief Iletman to forward my cause. He is favorably dis-
posed toward me, and has arranged that Kshechovski shall
be ennobled."

''God be with you," said the princess.

"You are honorable people, and 1 thank you, but, before
the war, 1 should like to hear once again from your mouth
that you will keep your word, l^e word of a nobleman is
no smoke — and you are noblemen, you are princes."

The chieftain spoke in slow, impressive tones, but, through
his speech, there sounded a threat, which warned all to grant
what he demanded :

The old princess glanced at her sons and they looked at
their mother. A short silence ensued. Suddenly the fal-
con, who was perched under a coat-of-arms on the wall, began
to scream although it was a long time before it would be
daylight. The other birds also began to cry. The great
hawk awoke, shook his wings and began to scream.

The wooden logs in the fireplace were smouldering. The
room became dark and gloomy.

"Nicholas, rake up the fire," said the princess. The young
prince threw fresh wood into the fire-place.

"Well, you promised me," said Bohun.

"We must ask Helena."

"She will speak for herself, you for yourselves. Do you
promise me?" ^

"We do promise it," said the princess.

"We promise it," repeated the younj? princes.

Bohun started to his feet, turned to Zagloba and said in a
loud voice:

"Pan Zagloba, do you also ask for the girl; perhaps they
will promise her to you."

"What is the matter with you, Cossack? Are you drunk?"
cried the princess.

Instead of answering, Bohun drew Skshetuski's letter from
his ])ocket, turned to Zagloba, and said:

"Read!'

228 ^iTH FIRE AND SWORD.

Zagloba took the letter and began to read. A gloomy si-
lence reigned.

As he finished, Bohun croscd his hands on his ibreast.

"To whom will you then give the girl?'' he asked.

"Bohunr

The voice of the Cossack leader sounded now like the
hissing of a serpent.

"Traitors! knaves, dog-faith followers! Judases! . . . ''

"Eh! little sons, draw your swords," cried the princess.

The Kurtseviches sprang like lightning towards the wall,
and seized some weapons.

"Quietly, gentlemen," cried Zagloba.

But, he had not finished speaking, when Bohun drew a pis-
tol from his belt and fired.

"Jesus!" groaned Prince Simeon, taking a step forward,
and then, throwing up his arms, he fell heavily to the ground.

"Help, servants!" cried the princess despairingly.

But, at this moment, there came from the courtyard other
shots. Doors and windows were forced open and the Scm-
enovs sprang into the hall.

"Kill them!" thundered wild voices.

The alarm bell sounded in the courtyard; the birds in the
hall began to scream; the noise of firing and wild cries filled
the peaceful house, already half sunk in sleep.

The old princess, howling like a she-wolf, threw herself
on Simeon's body, which quivered in the last death-throes;
but presently, two Semenovs seized her and drag/];ed her by
the hair to the side of the room, while the young Nicholas,
forced into a corner of the hall, was defending himself with
the courage of a lion.

"Back! back!" cried Tiohun, suddenly, to the Cossacks who
surrounded them. "Back!" he repeated with a voice of
thunder.

The Cossacks drew back. They thought their leader
wantod to save the boy's life, but Bohun himself, with his
sword in his hand, threw himself on the youn^ prince. Then
began a frightful duel, which the princess, held back l)y the
hair by four iron hands, watched with bnrning eyes and open
mouth. The young prince threw himself like a hurricane
upon the Cossack, who drew back slowly and enticed him
into the middle of the hall. Suddenly, he crouched, parried
his opponent's thrust, and, from defending himself began to
attack.

WITH FlliE AA7) .SWORD.

229

The Cossacks held their breath, lowered their swords and
stood as if rooted to the spot, following the struggle with
their eyes.

In the silence, one heard only the breathing and panting
of the combatants, the grinding of their teeth, and the swish
or the sharp clash of their sw^ords.

For a moment it seemed as if the obstinacy and immense
strength of the lad would conquer the Cossack leader, for
he began a^^ain to withdraw and to defend himself. His
face appeared to contract from the exertion. Nicholas re-
doubled his blows; dust flew from the floor and surrounded
the fighters with a thick cloud. But, in the midst of it, the
soldiers saw how the blood was streaming from the face of
their leader. Suddenly, Bohun sprang aside; the prince's
sword struck the empty air; Nicholas wavered with the force
of the stroke and bent forward and, at that moment, the
Cossack gave him such a dreadful blow in the neck that the
prince fell as if struck by lightning. The cries of joy of the
Cossacks mingled with the unearthly screams of the princess.
It seemed as if the ceiling would break from the noise. The
struggle was over; the Cossacks threw themselves upon the
weapons that hung on the walls and began to tear them
down, or to snatch the costly arms from each other's hands,
stepping over the body of the prince and of their own com-
rades, who had been killed by the hand of Nicholas. Bohun
\vi them do as they pleased. He stood, breathing heavily
from exhaustion, in the doorway which led to Helena's room,
and blocked the entrance. His face was pale and bloody, for
the prince had twice cut his head. His wandering glance
went from the body of Nicholas to that of Simeon and fell
occasionally on the pallid face of the princess, whom the
Cossacks were holding by the hair and pressing down on the
floor with their knees, as she sought to escape from their
hands and throw herself on the corpses of her children.

The noise and confusion in the hall increased every mo-
ment. The Cossacks bound the servants of the Kurtseviches
with ropes and killed them ruthlesssly. The floor was bathed
with blood and covered with corpses. The rooms were filled
with smoke; the walls were plundered; even the birds were
killed.

Suddenly, the door in which Bohun was standing was
slightly opened. The Cossack leader turned round and sud-
denly stepped backward.

230 W''^'' P^^^' ^^'^ SWOklK

In the doorway appeared blind Va^il and with him, Helena,
in a white nightrobe, herself as white at? the robe, wilii terri-
fied face and open mouth.

Vasil held up a cross in both hands. Amid the confusion
that reigned in the hall, in the presence of the corpses, of
their blood that lay in pools on the floor, amid the glitter of
drawn swords and fiery glances, this tall, emaciated form,
with the gray hair and the dark hollows instead of eyes,
looked wonderfully impressive, as though he were a spirit, a
departed one arisen again; as though he had laid olf his
grave-clothes and returned to chastise crime.

The shouts ceased; the Cossacks drew back in terror; in
the silence sounded the calm, but mournful lamenting voice
of the prince.

"In the name of the Father, of the Redeemer, and the
Holy Immaculate! You men who come here from distant
lands, do ye come in the name of God?"

"For blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. And
do you bring good news, are you apostles?"

Dead silence followed Vasil's words. lie, however, turned
slowly with his cross, first to one side and then the other and
continued:

"Woe unto you who carry on war for gain or vengeance,
ye shall be damned forever. . . . Let us pray that we
may ol)tain mercy. Woe unto you, brothers! Woe unto me!
Oh! Oh! Oh!" A heavy sigh escaped his breast

"(jiod be merciful to us," said the ('ossacks in muffled
tones. They were under the influence of an indescribable
terror, and began to cross themselves in fear.

Suddenly, a wild scream came from the princess.

"Vasil! Vasil!"

There was something so heartbreaking in her voice that
it might have been the last cry of a dying one. The Cossacks
who were holding her down with their knees, felt now that
she would no longer have the strength to escape them. The
prince shuddered and sheltered himself with the cross on the
side from which the voice came and answered:

"Accursed soul, that callest from the depths! Woe unto
thee!"

"God be merciful to us," repeated the Cossacks.

"Come to me, my men," cried Bohun at this moment, as
he tottered and would have fallen.

The (-ospacks sprnn^ towards him and supported him.

"Are you wounded, little father?"

WITH FIRE AXD JSWORD, 23 1

"Yes, but it is nothing; loss of blood. Here, my men,
guard this girl as the apple of your eye. Surround the house;
let no one go out. . . . Princess. ..."

lie could say no more; his lips became white and his eyes
were clouded.

C/arry the ataman into a room," cried Zagloba, who now
came creeping out of some corner, and unexpectedly rose
up close to Bohun.

"It is nothing; it is nothing," said he, after he had felt the
wounds with his fingers. *'To-morrow he will be well again;
1 will devote myself to him. Knead up some bread with
cobwebs; go to the devil, you fellows! Go, and have some
fun with the girls, for you are no use here. Two of you
carry the ataman; take him up carefully; that's it. No-w,
move, away to the devil. What are you standing here for?
To watch the house? I will see to that."

Two Semenovs took Bohun up and carried him into the
adjoining room. The others left the hall. Zagloba stepped
up to Helena, blinked at her with his eye, and said quickly
and softly:

"I am a friend of Pan Skshetuski. Fear nothing! Only take
your prophet away, put him to sleep, and wait for me." Then
he went into the room in which two Cossacks had laid Bohun
upon a Turkish divan; he sent them for bread and cobwebs
and, when they had brought them from the servant's hall,
he attended the young ataman with the greatest skill, which
at that time every nobleman possessed, and which he ac-
quired in sewing up heads after duels or after diets.

"And say to the soldiers," he continued to the sergeants,
"that the ataman will be as well as a fish to-morrow, and
they need not be worried about him. Yes, he had hard
knocks, but he has shown what he can do and to-morrow will
be his wedding, even if we have no priest. If there is a cellar
in the house, you may make yourselves merry. Now the
wounds are already bound up. Go away so that the ataman
may get some rest.

The sergeants went out of the room.

"And do not drink the cellar quite dry," said Zagloba.

Then he sat at the head of the Cassock chief and looked
him closely in the face.

"Well, the devil will not carry you away on account of
these wounds although you had some pretty hard knocks.
You will not be able to move hand or foot for two days," h©

232 ^iTB FIRE AND SWORD.

mumbled to himself as he looked at the pale face and closed
eyes of the Cossack. The sword did not wish to rob the
hangman, for you are allotted to him and you will not escape
him. When you are hanged, the devil will make a doll out
of you for his children, for you are handsome. No, little
brother, you are a good drinker, but you will not drink with
me any more. Look for your company among the crab-
fishers, for I see you like to kill; but it is not to my fancy
to attack the houses of the nobility at night with you as
my companion. Let the hangman light you home! Let him
light you!"

J3ohun faintly sighed.

"Oh sigh, groan away; to-morrow you will groan louder!
Wait awhile, Tartar soul, you would like to have the prin-
cess? Bah! I am not astonished. The girl is a marvel, but
if you taste her the dogs shall eat my wit. Hair shall grow in
the palm of my hand first ..."

A confusion of voices from the courtyard came to Zagloba's
ear.

"Aha! they've already found their way to the cellar," he
grunted. "Oh! drink away, until you are soaked through
like sponges; then you will sleep well. I will keep watch
instead of you, although I do not know if you will be pleased
on that account to-morow."

He got up, in order to see that the Cossacks had really
made acquaintance with the princess's cellar, and went out
into the hall. It was a frightful sight. In the middle of
the hall, lay the already stiffened corpses of Simeon and
Nicholas and, in the comer, the body of the pnirccss in a
sitting and crouching posture into which the knees of the
Cossacks had forced her. Her eyes were open; her teeth
gleamed; the fire which burned on the hearth filled the whole
hall with a flickering light which glistened in the pools of
blood. All was dark. Zagloba approached the princess in
order to see if she was still breathing. He laid his hands
on her face but it was already cold. He went hastily towards
the courtyard, for fear drove him from the house. In the
courtyard, the Cossacks had already begun their revelry; the
fire was burning and by its light Zagloba perceived barrels
of mead and wine and gorzalka, the tops of which had been
knocked off. The Cossacks dipped into the barrels as if
they were wells, and drank unceasingly. Some, to whose
bead the gorzalka had already mounted, were chasing the

WITH FIRE AXD SWOUt). 533

servant girls who ran hither and thither in fear, or dashed
blindly through the fire; others, amid wild noise and laughter,
let themselves be dragged back to the barrels and bon fires
where they were dancing the "Cossack/^ The Cossacks
sprang back and forth in the air as if they were possessed.
The girls courtesied to them; then they tripped forward,
bending over towards them; sometimes, the girls stepped back
on seeing the wild movements of the dancers. The lookers-
on were beating tin cups or singing. The shouts of "Uha"
sounded louder and louder, accompanied by the barking of
dogs, the neighing of horses, or the bellowing of cattle which
were being slaughtered for the evening meal. Around the
fire, in the background, were seen peasants from Rozloga.
They had all come running from the village on hearing the
reports of firearms and the screams, in order to see what was
going on. They did not think of defending the princess,
for the Kurtscviches were hated in the village. They only
looked on at the wild revelry of the Cossacks, nudged each
other with their elbows, whispered to one another, and dipped
more frequently into the barrels of vodka and mead. The
orgy grew ever more fierce, the drunkenness increased, the
Cossacks no longer dipped into the barrels with their tin
cups but stuck their heads in, as far as their necks, and
covered the dancing girls with vodka and mead. Their faces
glowed; the heads fairly steamed with heat; most of them
could hardly keep their feet. Zagloba, who had gone out
upon tlio porch, let his glance rest upon the drunken men;
then lie looked attentively up at the sky.

"The night is fine hut dark,*' he murmured. "When the
moon ^oes down they will be so that you may hit them on the
snout."

With those words he went slowly towards the barrels and
the drunken Cossacks.

"Keep it up boys! keep it up!" he said, "don't stint your-
selves. TTaida! Haida! Your teeth will not become blunt.
Ho is a fool who does not drink to-day to the health of the
atamj^n. Go for the barrels! Go for the girls! Uha!"

"TTha!" howled the Cossacks joyouslv.

Zagloba looked around him on all sides.

"Oh you jades, such rogues and vagabonds!" he cried sud-
denly, "to drink yourselves like weary horses and to give
nothing to the watch guarding the house. Nothing? Here,
relieve the watch!"

^^^ mfR mtE AND SWORD.

The command was immediately obeyed and several
drunken Cossacks started oft' to replace the watch who had
hitherto taken no share in the festivities. The guards came
running up with a haste that can readily be understood.

"Haida! haida!" cried Zagloba, pointing to the barrels of
liquor.

"We thank you, sir," they answered, dipping their cups in
the barrels.

In another hour let the present watch be relieved."

"Yes, sir," answ^ered the Esaul.

It seemed perfectly natural to the Semenovs that Zagloba
should take the command in Bohun's place; it had happened
before, and the Cossacks did not mind it, for the noble al-
low^ed them everything they wanted.

The watch drank with the rest — Zagloba began a conversa-
tion with the peasants from Rozloga.

'Teasant," he asked an old settler, "is it far from here to
Lubni?"

"Oh, very far, sir!" answered the peasant.

"Could one get there by morning?"

"Oh! no sir!"

"By noon?"

"By noon, sir."

"And what road do you take?"

"Just take the highway."

"Is that the highway?"

"Prince Yeremy commanded that this should be the road,
and so it is."

Zagloba spoke intentionally very loud, so that the Sem-
enovs could hear him, amid the noise and the shouts.

"Give them some gorzalka too," he said to the Cossacks
pointing to the peasants, "but give me some mead first for it
is cold."

One of the men dipped out some mead from the barrel
in a tin pail and, setting it upon his cap, handed it to Za-
globa.

The nobleman took it carefully in both hands so that he
might not spill any; put the pail to his lips, bent his head
backward and drank slowly, without drawing breath.

He drank and drank — till the Cossacks were astonished.
"Dost thou see?" they said to one another, "the thunder
strike him!"

Meanwhile Zagloba's head bent slowly backwards, and

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 235

when he took the pail away from his red face, he pursed his
lips, raised his eyebrows and said, as if to himself:

"Oh! not bad, excellent! One can see that it is good! It
is a pity to waste such stuff on your miserable throats, dregs
would be good enough for you. A strong mead; very strong.
It has done me good; 1 feel warmer."

The mead had really done Zaglolja good; his head became
clearer; and it was evident that his blood, mixed with mead,
made that excellent liquid which, as he was accustomed to
say, permeated the whole body with courage and determina-
tion.

He gave a sign with his hand to the Cossacks that they
might go on drinking, turned around and went with leisurely
steps through the whole yard; looked carefully into all
corners, crossed the moat and turned round by the stockade
in order to see if the sentries were watching the house
properly.

The first sentry was asleep; also the second, third, and
fourth; they were weary from their journey, and were drunk
when they had taken their posts, and consequently had fallen
asleep.

"1 might steal anyone here to have a servant in my ser-
vice," murmured Zagloba.

He turned by the shortest way into the house, passed
through the ill-omened hall, looked at Bohun, and, as, he
saw that he gave no sign of life, drew back to Helena's door,
opened it gently, and stepped into the room, from which
came a murmur, as of prayer.

"It was really Prince Vasil's room, but Helena was with
the prince, feeling safer in his prcvsence. The blind Vasil
knelt before the picture of the Holy Virgin, before which
burned a small lamp; Helena knelt beside him; and both
prayed aloud. As she perceived Zagloba, she turned her ter-
rified eyes towards him. Zagloba placed his fingers on his
lips.

"Gracious princess," he said, "I am a friend of Lieutenant
Skshetuski."

"Save me!" answered Helena.

"That is why I have come here. You may trust me."

"What shall I do?"

"Fly, before that devil returns to consciousness!"

^'What shall I do?"

"Put on man^s clothing, and when I knock at the door
come out.''

236 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Helena wavered; distrust was evident in her countenance.

"Dare I trust you?"

"And whom could you trust better?"

"True, very true, but swear to me that you will not betray
me!"

"Young lady you have lost your reason, ])ut if you wish it
I will swear. So help me God and the iloly Cross, here is
ruin; salvation lies in flight."

"Yes, that is true."

"Put on male attire as quickly as possible, and wait."

"And Vasil?"

"What Vasil?"

"My imbecile brother," said Helena.

"Ruin threatens you, not liim," answered Za^'loba. "If he
is out of his mind he is sacred to the Cossacks. 1 noticed
how they took him for a prophet."

"Yes, that is true; he has done nothing to injure Bohun."

"We must leave him here; otherwise we shall perish — and
Pan Skshetuski with us. Make haste, young lady."

Zagloba then left the room and went to Bohun.

The Cossack leader was pale and weak, but his eyes were
open:

"Do you feel better?" said Zagloba.

Bohun wished to speak but could not.

"Can you m)t speak?"

Bohun moved his head to show that he could not, but at
the same time anguish was visible in his features; his wounds
evidently pained him from the movement.

"Can you not cry out?"

Bohun showed bv his eves that he could not.

"Can you not?"

Again Bohun made the same sign.

"So much the better; yon will not hv. able to speak or cry
out, or move; while I will travel to Lubni with the young
princess. If I do not carry her away from under your nose.
may some old woman grind nie to ])owder in her mill! How,
you villain, do yon think I have not had enough of your
society? I can not be friends with asses of common peojile
any longer. No! rascal; you ])eliev(d ih.at for the sake of
your wine and your peasant love affairs that I would lend
myself to murder and rebellion. Xo; nothing can come of
that, my handsome lad."

The more vehemently Zagloba spoke, the wider did the
eyes of the Cossack leader open. "Wns he dreaming? Was

WfTH PIltE AKly SWORD.

^37

he awake? Was this a joke of Zagloba's?^^ Zagloba how-
ever continued:

"Why do you fix your goggle eyes upon me like a tom-cat
in the dark? Do you think I will not do it? Perhaps you
would like tx) send a message to some one in Lubni Perhaps
I had better send you a doctor from, there. Perhaps even
order the prince's doctor to come to you?"

The chief's pale face assumed a frightful expression; he
understood that Zagloba was speaking the truth; from his
eyes flashed looks of despair and rage; a fiery red overspread
his countenance. With a superhuman effort, he raced him-
self and from his lips came a scream:

''lley! Semen—"

He could not finish for Zagloba had thrown his own coat
over his lioad with the swiftness of lightning and completely
wrai)ped him up in it. Then he pushed him back on the
divan.

"Do not scream for that might injure you," he said softly
and coaxingly, "to-morrow your head might ache, and, as
your friend, 1 am anxious about you. So, so! now, you will
be warm; you will sleep finely, and not cry too loud. In
order, however, that you may not tear off your covering I will
tie your hands, and all through friendship, in order that you
may remember me with gratitude."

Then he tied the hands of the Cossack with his belt, made
the knc>t fast; and, with his own belt, tied his feet. The Cos-
sack leader was conscious of nothing; he had fainted.

•*A sick man must lie quiet," said Zagloba, "that the blood
may not go to his head and cause delirium. Now farewell, I
could kill you with a dagger thrust and that might be best
for ine, but 1 rm ashamed to commit murder like a peasant.
And, besides, if you choke by to-morrow that has happened
to many swine. Now, farewell, and return my love. Per-
haps we shall meet again some day, but, if I should seek a
meeting, let thom flay me and make strajw out of my skin."

Then Zagloba went into the hall, put out the fire and
knocked at the door of Vasil's room.

A slender figure stepped forward.

"Is it you, Princess?" asked Zagloba.

"It is I."

"Well, come on, so that we can mount. They are all drunk
over there and the night is dark. Before they awake we shall
be far away. Carefully, here lie the princes."

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,"
whispered Helena.

CHAPTER III.

Two riders rode slowly and quietly through the woody ravine
which lay close by Rozloga. The night was very dark for the
moon had long since gone down and heavy clouds covered the
horizon. In the ravine one could scarcely see three steps
beyond the horses, and consequently they frequently stumbled
over snags and roots of trees which lay in their path. For
some time they rode very cautiously and, as they came to the
end of the ravine and saw before them the open steppes which
from the reflection of some lighter clouds was a little clearer
than the wood, one of the horsemen whispered: •

"Spur!"

Like two arrows sent from a Tartar bow, their horses flew
along and the tramp was the only sound heard. Beneath the
tramp of the horses the dreary steppes seemed to disappear
behind them. Single oaks, that stood here and there on the
road, looking like ghosts were passed with the swiftness of
lightning, and they rode so long without rest and refresh-
ment, that the horses' ears finally drooped and they began to
snort with exhaustion and began to flag.

"It cannot be helped. We must ride more slowly," said
the stouter horseman.

Early dawn was just beginning to drive away darkness from
the steppes. By degrees larger expanses became light. The
thistle on the steppes gleamed in the pale light, the distant
woods and mounds became visible; the air grew gradually
brighter and brighter. The white gleams presently lighted
up the faces of the travellers.

They were Zagloba and Helena.

"It cannot be helped; we must ride more slowly," repeated
Zagloba. "Our horses galloped yesterday from Chigrin to
Rozloga, without breathing, and they cannot hold out much
longer. I am afraid they may fall. How do you feel, young
lady?"

Zagloba looked at his companion and exclaimed without
waiting- for an answer:

238

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 239

"Allow me, young lady, to look at you by daylight. Ho!
Ho! Are these your cousin's clothes? By God! Princess,
you're a pretty Cossack. As long as 1 have lived, I have
never had such a squire — but I think Skshetuski will soon
take you away from me. But what does this mean? For
God's sake tuck that hair away or else no one will mistake
your sex."

Indeed, a shower of raven hair had fallen over Helena's
shoulders; the hasty ride and the damp night air having loos-
ened it.

"Whither are we riding," she asked as she twis-ted her hair
with both hands and endeavored to tuck it up under her little
cap.

"Whither our eyes lead."

"Not to Lubni?"

Helena's features expressed uneasiness and, beneath Zag-
loba's keen glances, newly awakened distrust was visible in
her countenance.

"Look here, Princess, I exercise my own good judgmeent
and you may believe that I have calculated everything before
hand, and my calculations are based upon the following wise
maxim: "Do not fly in the direction in which you are likely
to be pursued; if anyone pursues us now, they will follow us
in the direction of Lubni, for I made no secret of it when I
inquired the way and took leave of Bohun, that we were going
to fly to Lubni. Ergo! we will fly to Cherkass; if they finally
do follow us, it will not be soon, not until they have con-
vinced themselves that we are not on the road to Lubni; and
that will take away two days of their time. Meanwhile, we
shall be in Cherkass where the Polish regiments, squadrons of
Pivnitski and Rudomin are now stationed. And in Korsun
are the entire forces of 'the hetman. Now do you understand,
princess?"

"I understand and will thank you as long as I live. I do
not know who you are, nor how you came to Rozloga; but I
believe that God has sent you to save and protect me, for I
would sooner have put a dagger to my breast than have fallen
into the hands of that murderer."

"He is a dragon who wants to prey upon your innocence."

"W^hat had 1 done to him, unfortunate me, that he should
have pursued me. I have known him since childhood and
from childhood he has always awakened fear in me. Am T
then the only one in the world^ that he should love me: that

2^0 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

he should have shed so much blood on my account; that he
should have murdered my cousins? . . God! when I think of
it, my blood congeals. What shall 1 do; where seek refuge
from him? Do not be surprised at my complaints, for 1 am
unhappy, I am ashamed to have inspired such love, and
would rather die a thousand times than return it."

Helena's cheeks were llaming. Tears of anger, pain, and
contempt coursed down her cheeks."

"I will not deny," said Zagloba, "that a great misfortune
has happened to your house; but, let me tell you, Princess,
that your relations were chiefly to blame for their misfortunes.
They should not have promised your hand to the CoSvSack and
then betrayed him; for when he heard of it, he flew into such
a rage that I could not reason with him. 1 am sorry for your
murdered cousins, especially the youngest; he was yet almost
a child, but one could see tJiat he would develop into a 'brave
knight."

Helena began to cry.

"Tears do not suit the garments you are wearing. Princess,
and let us say that it was the will of God. God will surely
punish the murderer, who indeed is already punished; for he
shed blood in vain and lost you, Princess, the chief and only
object of his passion."

Zagloba was silent, but after awhile he continued:

"Ah! but he would like to tear me to pieces — Great God!
if he could only get me into his hands he would make lizard
leather out of my skin. You do not know, Princess, that I
received a pale in Galatz from the Turks but 1 had enough of
it and I do not care for another and therefore 1 will not go
to Lubni but to Cherkass. It would be well to get under the
protection of the prince, but if they should catch up with us!
As I was unhitching the horses from the post, I heard Bohun's
servants wake up. If they had given the alarm they would
immediately have set out after us and have overtaken us in an
hour — for they have the princess's horses which are perfectly
fresh, and I had no time to waste. This Bohun is a wild
beast I tell you; 1 am so sick of him that I would rather meet
the devil than him."

"God deliver us from his hands!"

"He has brought down ruin on his own head, for he left
Chigrin, contrary to the hctman's orders; he has opposed
himself to the Voyevoda of Russia and there is nothing left
for him to do but to fly to Khmyelnitski. But his pride will

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 241

be laid low when Khmyelnitski is beaten and that may al-
ready have happened. Jendzian met the forces beyond
Kremenclmg, that wei-e marching against Khmyelnitski
iiiuler the command of Barabash and Kshechovski; and, be-
side this, Stephen Pototski lias advanced across the steppes
with his hussars. But Jendzian passed ten da3-s in Kremen-
chug in order to repair the boats, so, before he reaches Chi-
grin, the battle may have been decided; we were expecting
news every moment."

'^So Jendzian brought letters from Kudak?" asked Helena.

"Yes; letters from Pan Skshetuski to the princess and to
yourself; but Bohun took them away from him; found out all
that was in them, and on the spot split Jendzian's head open,
and then started out to wreak vengeance on the Kurtsevi-
ches."

"Oh! unhappy boy! he has shed liis blood on my account!"

"Do not grieve, princess; he will live."

"When did it happen?"

'TTesterday morning. Killing a man is no more to Bohun
than it would be to another to drink a goblet of wine, and he
bellowed so after he read the letters that the whole of Chi-
grin trembled."

The conversation was interruivted for a time. It was al-
ready daylight; the rosy dawn streaked with bright gold,
purple and opal, glowed in the eastern horizon; the air was
clear and fresh; the rested horses began to whinny joyously.

"Well, let us ride on, with God on our side! The mares
have rested. We have no time to lose," said Zagloba. They
rode off at a gallop for half a mile without stopping — sud-
denly they perceived a dark object approaching them with
amazing rapidity.

"What can that be?" said Zagloba slowly. "It is a man on
horseback."

In truth, a horseman was coming towards them at full
speed, bent over in the saddle; his face buried in the horse's
mane, and whipping his horse, whose hoofs seemed scarcely
to touch the ground.

"Who the devil can that be?" said old Zagloba. "And why
is he tearing along so fast. Eh! how he flies," taking his
pistols from the holster in order to be ready for an emergency.

Meanwhile the rider had already advanced thirty paces.

"Halt!" thundered Zagloba, covering him with his pistol.
"Who are you?"

16

242 WITE FIRE AND SWORD,

The rider suddenly reined in his horse, sat up in his saddle,
but hardly looked up as he exclaimed:

"Pan Zagloba!"

"Plesnievski, the servant of the Starosta of Chigrin! What
are you doing? Whither are you hasting?"

"Oh, gracious sir, turn round with me! Oh! misfortune!
God's wrath! God's judgment!"

"What has happened? Speak."

"Chigrin is taken by the Zaporojians, the peasants are kill-
ing the nobles — God's judgment ..."

"In the name of the Father and the Son, what do you say?
Kheymlnitski?"

"Pototski is beaten; Pan Charnyetski a prisoner; the Tar-
tars are making common cause with the Cossack, Tukhay
Bey!"

"And Barabash and Kshechovski?"

"Barabash is dead and Kshechovski has joined Khmyel-
nitski. Kshevonos set out last night against the hetmans;
Khmyelnitski started ihis morning at daybreak. An im-
mense army. The whole country in flames, the peasants ris-
ing in every direction, blood flows! Fly, sir!"

Zagloba opened his eye to its fullest extent; opened his
mouth, but could speak no word for astonishment.

"Fly, sir!" repeated Plesnievski.

"Jesus Maria!" cried Zagloba.

"Jesus Maria!" repeated Helena, bursting into tears.

"Fly, or it will be too late.''

"Whither? Whither?"

"To Lubni."

"Are you hastening there?"

"Y<^6, sir; to the Prince Voyevoda."

"The devil take you!" cried Zagloba, "and where are the
hetmans?"

"At Korsun, buit Kshevonos is already fighting with them."

"Kshevonos or Prostonos (crooked nose or straight nose)
the plague take him? Why should we also go there?"

'TTou're running into the lion's mouth; to your own de-
struction."

"And who sent yon to Lubni? Your master?'*

"My master fortunately mad€ his escape, and my godfather,
who is with the Zaporojians, saved my life and helped me to
escape. I am going to I^ibni on my own account, for I do
not know where I can take refuge."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 243

"Avoid Rozloga, for Bohun is there; he will also join th-e
rebels/*

"For God's sake! Help! In Ohigrin it is said that the
peasaiits in the Dnieper country may rise at any moment!"

"That may be, so see to it that you get on your way wher-
ever you want to go. It is enough for me to think about my
own skin."

"Yes, I will do so," said Plesnievski, as he put spurs to his
horse and rode away.

"But avoid Rozloga," Zagloba called after him. "And if
you should come across Bohun, do not tell him that you have
seen me, do you hear?"

"I hear," answered Plesnievski. "God be with you," and
he galloped away as if he were being pursued.

"Well, devil, thou hast an overcoat!" said Zagloba, "I
have alreadv pulled myself out of many dangers, but I have
never been in such straits as this. Before us, Khmyekiitski,
behind us Bohun; and this being the case, I would not give a
broken copper for my front or my back, or my whole skin. I
made a mistake in not flying with you to Lubni, but we can-
not think about that now. Fie! fie! I have not enough
brains kft to oil my boots with. What shall we do? Where
shall we go? In the w^hole of the Commonwealth, there is
no longer a single corner where one can be safe from death.
Thank you for such presents, let others take them!"

"Worthy sir," said Helena, "I know tha-t my two cousins,
Yur and Fedor are in Zolotonosha; perhaps they can help us."

"In Zolotonosha? Patience Princess; when I was in Ohi-
grin I made the acquaintance of Pan Unyezitski who has pro-
perty near Zolotonosha called Kropovina and Chernoboy; but
that is a long way from here, farther then Cherkass. What
shall we do? If we can go nowhere else we will go there, but
we must get off the highway. Across the steppes through
the forest it will be less dangerous. If we could hide a week
anywhere, even in the woods, perhaps by that time the het-
mans will have finished up Khmyelnitski, and it will be more
quiet in the Ukraine."

"God has not delivered us from Bohun's hands, in order to
destroy us. Have faith, sir!"

"Patience, young lady; I am regaining courage; I have
been in various dangers; at an appropriate time I will relate
to you, princess, what happened to me in Galatz, and you will
at once see that things looked very bad for me then, and yet,

^44

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

through my own wit, I escaped safe and sound, although my
beard, as you see, has grown gray in consequence. But we
niu&t get off the highway. Turn out, princess; that's it; you
manage your horse like the cleverest Cossack; the grass is
tall; no eye can see us."

As they got farther into the steppes, the grass became
higher so that they were finally completely buried and the
horses had great dilliculty in moving forward in this tangle of
grasses which sometimes were so sharp that they cut the skin.
They were soon so weary that they refused to move.

"If we want these mares to carry us any farther," said Zag-
loba, "we must dismount and take off their bridles. They
will have to rest and feed a little, or we can make no progress.
I notice that we shall soon reach the Kahamlik. I wish we
were there already. But nothing is better than this high
grass, for, once you are hidden there, the devil himself could
not find you. Pray God, if only we do not lose our way!"

Then he dismounted and lifted Helena off her horie. Then
he took off the saddle bags and produced some provisions
which he had, with forethought, provided himself with be-
fore he left Kozloga.

"We must also refresh ourselves," he said, "for the way is
long; make a vow to St. Raphael that we make the journey
safely. There is an old fortress in Zolotonosha; perhaps it is
garrisoned. Plesnievski has said that the i)easants were ris-
ing beyond the Dnieper; Il'm! that may well be; the people
here are inclined to rebellion, but beyond the Dnieper the
hand of the Voyevoda exercises authority; and it is a devilish
heavy hand. Bohun has a sound neck, but if this hand
should fall upon it, it will bend him to the earth, which God
prant, Amen! Kat something, Princess!" Zagloba drew
from his boot a case, which he handed to Helena; then he
spread before her on a saddle-cloth some cold roast-beef and
bread.

"Eat something," he said, "when the stomach is empty,
peas and ca])bage are in the head and if you want to keep
your head clear eat poas and cabbage, and our head went
wrong, for we would have done better to have fled to Lubni;
but that cannot now be helped. The prince is certainly
marching with his army to the Dnieper to aid the hetmans.
We have lived to terrible times, for a civil war is, of all evils,
the worst. There is no corner for quiet people. It would
have been better for mc had I become a priest, for which

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 245

office I had a vocation, for I am a peaceful, reticent man,
but fate ordered it otherwise. My God! To-day I should have
been canon of Cracow and would be chanting the hours, for I
have a beautiful voice. Yes, indeed! in my youth I loved the
girls! Ha! ha! princess, you would not believe what a beau-
tiful boy I was! When I looked at a girl — ^you would think
she had been struck by lightning! If I were twenty years
younger, Pan Skshctuski would have to look out for his
laurels. You are a charming little Cossack; I am not sur-
prised that the young men are in love with you, and fall to-
gether by the ears. Skshctuski is not a bad fighter; I was
present when Chaplinski got into a quarrel with him and he
— it is true he had a little wine in his head — but he sprang
up, took him by the head and, with your leave, by the seat,
and banged him against the door. 1 tell you. Princess, that all
his bonee must have been out of joint. Old Colonel Zats-
vilikhovski has told me about your fiance; that he is a great
knight, the favorite of the Voyevoda; and I myself recognized
that he was a soldier of great valor and of experience beyond
his years. It is growing warm; your society. Princess, is very
pleasant to me but I would give, I don't know what, if we
were already in Zolotonosha. I see we shall have to sit all
day in the grass and travel at night, but I do not know how
you will be able to stand such fatigue."

"I am healthy; I can stand all the fatigue. I could ride
now if it were necessary."

"You have the courage of a man. The horses have re-
covered; I will put on their bridles, that they may be prepared
for any emergency. I shall not feel safe until I sec the reeds
and rushes of the Kahamlik. If we had not left the highway,
we would have been nearer to Chigrin along the bank of the
river; but this way will be a mile further. At least so I esti-
mate it. We shall soon be on the other side of the river. I
must toll you. Princess, that I am desperately sleepy. The
night l>efore last, we caroused in Chigrin; }Tsterday the devil
permitted me to ride with the Cossacks to Rozloga, and, this
night he carried me again from Rozloga. I am so sleepy that
I have even lost the d(^ire to converse and, although I am not
accustomed to be silent — for the philosophers say ^the cat
must be ready to hunt its prey, a man must be intelligent
enough to talk' — yot I feel that my tongue is weak; I ask
your pardon. Princess, if T nod a little."

"You need not make any apology," answered Helena.

246 ^ITH FIRE AND SWORD.

Zagloba had needlessly apologized for his disinclination to
talk, for since daybreak he had never ceased chattering; but
now he was really very sleepy, so, as sobn as they were
mounted, he began to nod and his head bobbed forward and
then backward until he was finally fast asleep. Fatigue, and
the rustling of the grass caused by the horses going through
it, had lulled him to sleep. Helena, on the contrary, was
wrapped in the thoughts which darted back and forth through
her brain like birds. Events had followed one another so
quickly, that the girl could hardly recollect all that had hap-
pened to her. The attack on Rozloga; the frightful scene of
murder; the unexpected assistance and flight; all this had oc-
curred like a storm in one night and, besides this, many
things had happened which she could not understand. "Who
was this man who had rescued her. He had indeed told her
his name, but this nam-e gave her no clue to the motive of his
act. How had he come to Rozloga? He had said that he
came with Bohun. Evidently, then, he was his acquaintance
and friend. If this were so, why should he save her and
place himself in the greatest peril, and at the mercy of the
terrible vengeance of the Cossacks? In order to understand
this it was necessary to know Pan Zagloba thoroughly, with
his restless spirit and his good heart. Helena, however, had
only known him for six hours; and this unknown man, with
the face of a vagabond and a drunkard, was her rescuer. Had
she met him three days earlier he would have inspired her
only with aversion and mistrust and now she looked on him
as her good angel and was fleeing with him — whither? To
Zolotonosha or elsewhere — she herself knew not yet. What a
turn of Fate! Only yesterday, she lay down to sleep beneath
the quiet roof of her home; to-day she is on the steppes, on
horseback, in man's clothing, without a roof, without shelter;
behind her the terrible Cossack who threatened her honor
and her love; before her the burning torch of the peasant re-
bellion, the civil war with all its evils, terrors and horrors?
And had she placed her entire confidence in this man? No;
but on another who is more mighty, who is mightier than
violence, mightier than war, murder, or fire.

The girl raised her eyes to Heaven:

**Save me thou great, merciful God, save the orphan, save
the unhappy one, save the wanderer! Thy will be done, but
grant me thy favor."

Had she not already experienced this favor? Had she not

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 247

been snatched from the most dreadful of men, saved by a
divine incomprehensible miracle? The danger was not yet
over, but perhaps rescue was at hand; for who knew where he
might be whom her heart had chosen. He must have already
returned from Sich; perhaps he was in these very steppes; he
would seek her and find her, and then joy would taJ^e the
place of tears. Sorrow, terror, and danger would be over
forever — peace and comfort would take their place. The
brave, simple heart of this girl was filled with trust in God
and, the grass in th-e steppes around her rustled sweetly; the
breeze that moved the grasses brought her happy thoughts
at the same time. She was not so utterly orphaned in this
world, for, beside her, rode one strange, unknown defender —
and the other, known and beloved, would care for her, would
never leave her, would cling to her forever; and he was a man
of iron, stronger and more powerful than those who at this
moment she saw in her mind.

The steppes murmured sweetly; the flowers gave forth a
powerful and intoxicating fragrance; the red heads of the
thistles, the white pearl-like buds of the eryngo and the clus-
ters of mug-wort bent towards her, as though they recognized
in this little Cossack with the long braids, the milk-white face,
and the red lips, a fair sister. They bent towards her as
though they would say: "Do not weep, little rosy cheeks, we
are also in God^s care.'' And thus, there came to her from
the steppes, ever deeper comfort; the pictures of murder and
horrors were completely obliterated from her mind and a
sweet languor came over her. Her eyelids grew heavy; the
horses moved slowly; the motion rocked her Iwick and forth —
she fell asleep.

CHAPTER IV.

Helena was awakened by the barking of dogs; she opened
her eyes and saw, in the distance, a large shady oak; a fence
and a well before her. She awoke her companion.

*'Wake up, worthy sir."

Zagloba opened his eyes.

"What is it? Where are we?"

"I do not know."

"Wait a minute, lady, this is a Cossack winter quarter.'*

"So it seems to me."

"Here are no doubt Chabans (herders'), not exactly agree-
able society. Why do tliese dogs yelp as if they were bitten
by wolves. I can see men and horses l>ehind the fence, but
there is nothing for it but to turn in so that they may not
follow us as we ride by. You too must have slept?"

"Yes."

"One, two, three, four saddled horses — four men are behind
the fence. Well that is no immense force. Yes! Yes! they
are herders. They are talking at a great rate. Hey! there,
men, come here."

The four Cossacks came at once. They were herders of
horses, or trainers, who in summer watched the herds on the
ste|)pes. Zagloba remarked at once that only one of them had
n sword and carried a gun. The others were armt'd with
hordes' jaw-bones which were fastened to sticks, but he knew
that these horse herders were wild men and dangerous to
travellers.

They all four looked inquiringly at the newcomers. There
was not the slightest trace of friendliness on their copper-
colored faces.

"What do you want?'' they asked, without taking off their
caps.

"God be praised," said Zagloba.

"For ever and ever. What do you want?"

1 Tartar herdsmen.
248

LIKE TWO ARROWS THEIR HORSES FLEW ALONG.

fVitk Fire and Sword.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 249

"Is it far to Syrovata?''

"We know no Syrovata."

"And what do you call this winter-quarter?^'

"Hushla."

"Give the horses some water."

"The water is dried up. Where do you come from?"

"From Kriva-ruda."

"And where are you going?"

"To Chigrin."

The herders looked at one another.

One of them, black as a beetle, with a squint, began to look
closely at Zagloba and said, at last:

"And why did you not remain on the highway?"

"Because it is too hot."

The man with a squint laid his hand on Zagloba's bridle.

"You had better make haste and dismount, sir; you do not
need to ride to Chigrin."

"And why?" asked Zagloba quietly.

"You see this Cossack," said the man with a squint, point-
ing to one of the herders.

"Well, I see him."

"He has come from Chigrin, they are killing the Poles over
there."

"And do you know, blockhead, who is marching behind us
towards Chigrin?"

"No. Who?"

"Prince Yeremy."

The bold faces of the herders became humble in an in-
stant; as if at the word of command, they uncovered their
heads.

"And do you know, fellow," continued Zagloba, "what the
Poles do to those who slaughter them? They hang them.
And do you know that he is barely a half a mile away from
here? What, you dogs' souls! You bag-pipe. How have you
received us? The well is dry! You have no water for the
horses! I will show you, you sloths, you horse-brood!"

*T)o not be angry, sir. The well is dry. We have to take
our own horses to the Kahamlik to water them and to fetch
water for our own use."

"Ah! you thieves!"

"Pardon, sir, the well is dry. If you command, we will go
for water."

"I can get it without you. T will ride over myself with
my servant. Where is the Kahamlik?" he asked angrily.

250 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^'^ iSWO/^i).

"Over there, two furlongs away," said the man with the
squint, pointing with his finger towards the belt of rushes.

"And must I come back here to get to the highway, or
can I get to it by following the river."

"Yes, sir, by the river bank. A mile from here, the river
turns towards the highway.'^

"Boy, ride forward,'^ said Zagloba, turning to Helena.

The pretended servant turned his horse on the spot and
rode off.

"Listen," said Zagloba to the peasants, "if the advance
guards come, say I have followed the river to get to the high-
way."

"Good, sir!"

A quarter of an hour later, Zagloba was riding beside
Helena.

"I thought of the Voyevoda at the right moment," he said,
blinking his injured eye. "Now, they will sit there the whole
day, waiting for the vanguard. Terror seized them at the
very name of the prince."

"I see that you have such a happy wit that you can save
yourself from every danger," said Helena, "and I thank God
that he has sent me such a defender." These words touched
the nobleman's heart. He smiled, stroked his beard and said:

"Ah! Isn't Zagloba's head on his neck? Crafty as Ulysses!
And I must tell you one thing. Princess, that if I were not
crafty the crows would have eaten me up long ago, but what's
to be done? One must save one self. They believed readily
that the prince was approaching; for it is probable that he
will appear in this region either to-day or to-morrow, like the
archangel, with a fiery sword; and if he should on the way
trample Bohun in the dust, I vow I will make a pilgrimage
barefoot to Chenstohovo. And if the herders had not be-
lieved it, the very remembrance of the prince's power would
have been enough to prevent them from attacking us. But I
must tell you, Princess, that their boldness is not a good sign
for us, for it signifies that the peasants have already got
tidings of Khmyelnitski's victories and are becoming more
bold. We must now travel along the desert places and avoid
the villages for they are dangerous. God grant that the
prince may come as soon as possible, for as I live we've got
into such a trap that I was never in a more dangerous one."

Fear once more took possession of Helena and, as she
wfinted to get some assurance from Zagloba, she sai4;

WITH PI HE AND SWORt). ^^i

"But I am quite confident that you will be able to save
yourself and me/'

"Of course," answered the cunning old man. "The head
exists to think about the skin; and I've grown so fond of you,
Princess, that I will take care of you as though you were my
own daughter. The worst of it is that we do know whither
we shall fly, for this Zolotonosha is none too safe an asylum."

"I know that my cousins are in Zolotonosha."

"They may be there or they may not, they may have gone
away; and would certainly not return to Rozloga by the road
we are travelling. I have more confidence in the garrison
there, though only half a squadron or half a company were
in the castle! But there is the Kahamlik. Now, at least, we
have the rushes, and we will cross over to the other side in-
stead of going along the bank to reach the highway; we will
ride up the stream in order to efface our tracks. We go to-
wards Kozloga in this way, but not far. ..."

"We are approaching Brovarki," said Helena, "through
which one passes on the way to Zolotonosha."

"So much the better. Rein in your horse, Princess."

They watered the horses; then Zagloba found Helena a
good hiding place in the rushes and went to look for a ford.
He soon found one some paces from where they halted. It
was here that those herders had driven their horses across
the river, which was shallow enough, though the banks
were a little difficult as they were marshy and overgrown
with brush. They crossed the river and rode hastily up the
stream, without resting until night. The road was heavy, for
many small streams flowed into the Kahamlik and at their
confluence inlets and marshes were formed. They were
obliged to look for fords or to make their way through brush,
which was difficult for riders. The horses were dreadfully
tired and could hardly dra<r their feet after them. Prom time
to time, they seemed to collapse, so that Zagloba feared that
they would never get any further. At length they arrived at
the high, dry bank covered with oaks, but the dark night had
already come upon them. Tt wa? impossible to continue their
journey, for they might have ridden into dangerous swamps
and lost their lives. Zagloba determined therefore to wait
until morning. He took ofF the horses' bridles, tied them to-
gether, and lot them roam in the meadow. Then he began to
gather leaves and made a couch, which he covered with the
horses' blankets and with a felt cloak, and said to Helena:

1^5^ ^ITE FIRE AND SWORD.

•

"Lie down. Princess, and sleep, for we have nothing l)eLter
to do. The dew will sprinkle your little eyes, but that does
not matter. I will lay my head on the saddle-bags for I am
so tired I can hardly feel my bones. We will not light a
fire, for the light might attract the herders. The night is
short, and at daybreak we will ride on. Sleep quietly, lady,
we have doubled on our tracks like hares, without putting
much distance behind us, but we have blotted out our tracks
so that, even with the help of the devil, no one could find us.
Good night, young lady."

"Good night."

The slender little Cossack knelt down and prayed long,
with eyes raised towards the stars. Zagloba took his saddle-
bags on his shoulders and carried them to a little distance,
where he had selected a place to sleep.. The bank was well
chosen for a night's rest, for it was high and dry, and free
from mosquitoes. The thick foliage of the oaks provided a
good shelter against the rain.

It was long before Helena could sleep; the events of the
past night were still vivid in her recollection; from out the
darkness appeared the faces of her murdered relations, her
aunt, and her cousins. It seemed to her as if she were shut
up in the room with their corpses, and as if Bohun were about
to step into the room. She saw his pale face; his dark eye-
brows drawn together from pain, and his eyes fixed upon her.
An unspeakable terror seized her and, there, suddenly in the
darkness that surrounded her, she saw, in reality, two gleam-
ing eyes.

The moon peeped from out the clouds, and dimly lighted
up the oak trees, and gave fantastic shapes to the branches
and boughs. In the grass the rail birds called, and grouse
piped in the steppes. From time to time various strange cries
of birds and night animals were heard. The horses snorted
as they grazed and sprang with their hobbles, moving further
away from the sleepers; but all these sounds quieted Helena
for they dissipated the fantastic faces and brought her back
to reality. They said to her that that hall which continually
haunted her vision, and those corpses of her relations and
that Bohun, pale, with vengeance in his eyes, were only a
deception of her senses; a creation of terror, nothing more. A
few days ago, the prospect of such a night, under the open
sky in the wilderness, would have frightened her to death;
to-day she brought to mind that she was really on the banks

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 253

of the Kahamlik, far from her maiden bower, far from the
home of her childhood, in order to quiet herself.

So the voices* of rail birds and grouse lulled her to sleep;
the stars twinkled through the leaves when a breeze shook
the branches; the beetles hummed amid the grass — ^and she
finally fell asleep. But night in the desert has also its sur-
prises. Day was already beginning to break when, from the
distance, horrible voices reached her ear. A panting, howl-
ing, snorting, then a screech so horrible and painful that
her blood ran cold. She sprang to her feet, covered with cold
perspiration, terrified, and not knowing what she should do.
All at once, Zagloba appeared before her without his cap,
pistols in his hands and going in the direction whence the
cries came. After a short pause, his voice rang out:

"Uha! Uha! Siromacha!"

A shot was fired, then all was still. It seemed to Helena
as it were an eternity, but presently, she heard Zagloba's voice
again on the bank below.

"May the dogs devour you. May you be flayed. May the
Jews take you by the neck.*^

Zagloba's voice sounded with absolute despair.

"What has happened, sir?" asked the girl.

"The wolves have devoured the horses."

"Jesus Maria! Both of them?"

"One is dead; the other wounded so that he can hardly
walk. They did not move three hundred paces away during
the night, and now it is all over with them."

"What shall we do now?"

"What shall we do? We will cut some sticks and sit upon
them. How can I tell what we will do? Here is a genuine
despair! I tell you. Young Lady, that the devil is surely after
us — and that is no great wonder, for he must be Bohun's
friend or relation. AVhat shall we do? If I know may I turn
into a horse so that you at least may have something to ride
upon. I am a knave, if I was ever in such a dilemma."

"Let us walk. ..."

"It is well for you, at twenty years of ao;e; but with my cir-
cumference, how can I travel, peasant fashion? But I am
talking foolishly; for any peasant here has his nag and it is
only dogs that walk. As God is dear to me, I am in despair.
Of course we will not stay here. We will go on, but I don't
know when we shall reach Zolotonosha. If it is not a pleasure
to run away on horseback, it is still more disagreeable to go

254 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ HWORD.

on foot. It is the worst thing that could have happened to
ufc- We mufit leave the straps and saddle bags here, and carry
what we need for our mouth, on my own back."

"I will not allow you to carry it alone. If it is necessary, I
also will help."

Zagloba gave in as he saw the girl was determined.

"But my dear young lady," he said, "I should be a Turk, or
a Pagan, if I permitted that. Those white little hands are
not for carrying burdens, nor those arrowlike small shoul-
ders; with God's assistance I will manage it all alone, only I
must rest a little more frequently, owing to abstemiousness in
eating and drinking, I have short breath. We will take the
K;iddlc cloths with us to sleep on, and some provisions; but
there will not be much left when I think that we must
strengthen ourselves."

1'hey at once sat down to refresh themselves and Zagloba
forgot his much boasted abstemiousness and drew a deep
breath. Towards noon they reached a ford, across which men
and wagons had evidently passed from time to time; for on
both banks were tracks of wheels and horses' hoofs.

"Perhaps that's the road to Zolotonosha," said Helena.

"Bah! there's none here whom one can ask."

Zaglo))a had hardly spoken when the sound of human voices
was heard in the distance.

"Wait, young lady, let us hide," whispered Zagloba.

The voices approached.

"Do you see anything?" asked Helena.

"Yes, I see."

"Who's approaching?"

"A l)lind old beggar with a lute. A little boy is leading
him. Now they are taking off their boots. They are cross-
ing the river, and coming towards us."

^Hie splashing of the water soon announced that they were
crossing the river.

Zagloba and Helena came out of their hiding places.

"Praised be (lod," exclaimed the nobleman.

"For ever and ever," answered the old man. "Who is
there?"

"Ohristians, fear nothing, old man, a good friend."

"May St. Nicholas give you health and happiness."

"And where do you come from, poor old man?"

"P>om Brovarki."

"And where does this road lead?"

WlfH PlitS AND SWORD, 255

"To farm houses, sir, and to village. . . . '*

"Can one get to Zolotonosha by this road?''

"Yes, sir/'

"Is it long since you left Brovarki?"

"Early yesterday morning."

"Were you in Rozloga?"

"Yes, sir. They say that knights had come there, and
that there had been a fight."

"Who said that?''

"They told it in Brovarki." One of the prince's servants
came there, and what he told, was terrible.

"Did you not see him."

"I, sir, saw no one, I am blind."

And the boy there.

"He sees, but he is dumb. I am the only one that can
understand him."

"Is it far from here to Rozloga, for we want to go there."

"Oh, yes, it is a long way."

"So you say you were in Rozloga."

"We were, sir."

"Indeed," said Zagloba, and suddenly seizing the boy by
the neck. "Ha! you vagabond, thief, scamp, you are going
about as spies, to incite the peasants to rebellion. Eh!
Feodore, Alex, Maxim, take them away! Take off their
clothes and banc: them or drown them! But then they are
rebels, spies, strike, kill!"

He began to shake the boy, and increased his loud shouting.

The old beggar threw himself on his knees and begged for
mercy. The boy uttered frightful sounds, such as are pecu-
liar to dumb people, and Helena looked in astonishment at
the attack.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hardly trusting her own
eyes.

But Zagloba screamed, swore, called upon the powers of
Hell, called down all ill luck, calamities and all diseases of
earth-— and threatened with all kind of torments, and death.

The young princess thought he had lost his mind.

"60 away!" he cried to her. "It is not fit for you to see
what is going on here. Go away, I say!"

Suddenly he turned to the old beggar.

"Take off your coat, old sheep, or else I will cut you to
pieces."

Then he threw the boy on the ground and began with his

256 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

own hands to tear the clothes off him. The old man, in terror
threw his lute, his coat, and his waistcoat on the ground.

"Take off everything; may the plague — '^ screamed Za-
globa.

The old man began to take off his shirt.

When the young princess saw what was coming, she hastily
moved away that her modesty might not be offended by the
sight, and in her flight she still heard Zagloba's curses.

When she had gone quite a distance she stopped for she
did not know what to begin. The trunk of an uprooted tree
lay on the ground, so she sat down on this and waited. The
cries of the dumb boy, the sighs of the old man, and the
wild noise made by Zagloba came to her ears.

Presently all was still; only the twittering of the birds and
the rustling of the leaves broke the silence. Shortly after
she heard a loud chuckling and a man's heavy step.

It was Zagloba.

On his arm he carried the clothes that he had taken from
the old man and the boy, and in his hand two pair of boots
and the lute. As he approached, he began to blink his
sound eye, to smile, and to breathe heavily. He was evi-
dently in excellent humor.

"No lawyer in court ever screamed as I have done,*' he
said, "and I am quite hoarse from it, but I have got what I
wanted. I have sent them off as naked as when their mother
brought them into the world. If the sultan does not make
me a pasha or hospodar of Wallachia, he will be very un-
grateful, for I have increasod by two the number of Turkish
saints. Oh! the rascals! they prayed me to leave them at
least their shirt but I told them that they should be thankful
that 1 left them with their life. See Lady, everything new;
the waistcoat, the boots, the shirts? How can order be main-
tained in the Commonwealth when peasants dress themselves
so luxuriously? But they had been at a festival in Brovarki;
had begged enough alms to buy everything new at the fair.
Manya nobleman in this country cannot got so much from his
land as a beggar like that can. Hence, I will give up the
trade of knight and will plunder the beggars on the high-
ways; for I see that in that fashion one can more easily obtain
wealth."

"But what was your object in doing this?" asked Helena.

"What was my object? Do you not understand, Panna?
Only wait a little. The object will soon become evident to
you/'

WITH FIRE AND BWOHt>.

^57

Then he took half of the stolen clothing and retired into
the bushes on the shore. After a few minutes the sounds
of a lute were heard and then he appeared — no longer Za-
globa, but a veritable old beggar of the Ukraine with a patch
on one eye and a grey beard. The old beggar stepped nearer
to Helena and sang in a hoarse voice:

" Thou joyoas falcon, my true brother,
How high thou soarest,
How far dost thou fly I

The princess clapped her hands and, for the first time since
she left Rozloga, a smile lighted up her lovely face.

"If I had not known it was you, I could hardly have be-
lieved it."

"How is that?" said Zagloba, "you have certainly never
seen a better mask on 8hrove Tuesday. I looked at myself in
the Kahamlik and, if I ever saw a handsomer singer, you may
hang me up by my own bag. I have no lack of songs, either.
What would you rather hear, lady, may be Marusia Bohuslava,
Or the Bondarovna or about Serpiahova's death? Oh, I can
sing these too. I am a rogue if 1 canot earn my bread even
among the greatest vagabonds!"

"Now I understand why you took away those poor fellows^
clothes; so that we may continue our journey in this dis-
guise?"

"Of course," said Zagloba, "what did you suppose. Here,
on the other side of the Dnieper, the people are worse than
anywhere else, and only the hand of the prince keeps them
from committing crimes, and now, if they hear of the war
with the Zaporojians and of Khmyelnitski's victories, no
power can check the rebellion. You saw those herders who
wanted to flay us alive? If the hetmans do not speedily con-
quer Bogdan Khmyelnitski, then in one, or two days, the
whole country will be on fire, and how can I bring you-
through the crowds of peasant rebels? If we should fall into
their hands, it would have been better for you to have re-
mained in Bohun's"

"No, that could not be. I would rather die," interrupted
the princess.

"But I prefer life, for death is an entity from which even
the greatest intelligence can not raise you; but I think this
way. God sent us those beggars and I frightened them ter-
ribly, just as I did the herders by telling them that the prince
was close by, with his whole army. They will sit three long

17

^58

WITH FIRE AND 8W0kD.

days, naked, in the rushes, for terror, and we will meanwhile
be clothed and make our way to Zolotonosha. If we find your
cousins and assistance there, it is well — if not, we will go on
till we reach the hetmans, or we will wait for the prince, and
that in perfect safety; for there is no danger to beggars, either
from the peasants or from the Cossacks. We can carry our
heads in safety through Khmyelnitski's camp but we must
avoid the Tartars for, believing you to be a young boy they
would take you prisoner."

"Then I must disguise myself?'^

"Certainly! Throw off your (^ossack disguise, and get into
this peasant boy's clothes. You're a little too pretty for a
peasant boy and so am 1 for an old beggar, but that does
not matter. The wind will brown your cheeks and my
stomach will grow thinner from walking. I shall sweat away
all my fat. When theWallachians burned out my eye I thought
that was a frightful adventure, and now I see that it was a
very good thing; for a beggar who is not blind would excite
suspicion. You, Lady, will lead me by the hand, call me
Onufy, that is my beggar name. But now, dress yourself
quickly, for we must go on our way as quickly as possible for
it will be a long journey on foot."

Zagloba moved away and Helena quickly changed herself
into a beggar boy. After she had looked at herself in the
river she threw away the Cossack garments, put on the pea-
sant's waistcoat, placed a straw hat on her 'head and slung a
knapsack across her shoulder. Fortunately the boy that Za-
globa had robbed was slender, so his clothes suited her very
well.

Zagloba came back, looked at her carefully and said:

"Good God! many a knight would be proud to have such
a nice boy for an attendant; and I know one hussar who cer-
tainly would, but we must do something with this hair. I
have seen many beautiful boys in Stambul, but never such
a one as this."

"Pray (lod that my beauty may not bring me any harm,"
said Helena,

But she smiled as she said it for Zagloba's admiration
flattered her woman's vanity.

"Beauty never brings harm. I am the best proof of that,
for when the Turks burned out my one eye in Galatz and
wanted to bum out the other, the wife of the then pasha
saved me on account of my extraordinary beauty, the remains
of which you can yet see, princess."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 259

"But you said that the Wallachians burned your eye out."
"Yes, Wallachians but naturalized Turks and in service
\fndev the pasha in Galatz."

• "But they did not even burn out one of them/'

"But it was the heat of the iron that brought on a cataract.
It is just the same thing. What are you going to do with
your braids, princess.'^"

"Well? 1 must cut them off?"

* "Yes, we must do that, but what with?"
"AVith your sword,"

"One can cut off a head very well with that, but hair — I
do not exactly know how."

"0, I tell you what 1 will do, sir. 1 will sit down be-
side this stump, and place my hair over it; and you can cut
until you cut it all off, but do not cut off my head."

"Oh do not fear that, princess. I have often put out the
lights when I was drunk and never cut the candle? I will
not hurt you Panna, although it is the first time in my life
that I have ever done such a thing." Helena sat down be-
side the fallen trunk and flung her heavy black hair acrosss
it and looked up to Zagloba.

"I am ready," she said, "cut away, sir!"

And she smiled a little sadly, for she was sorry to lose her
hair which was so thick that one could hardly span its thick-
ness with both hands. Zagloba, also, did not enjoy the task.

He grasped the stump in order to cut better, and mur-
mured:

"Tut! Tut! I would rather be a barber surgeon I think,
and cut the Cossacks beards. I feel like an executioner
setting to work, for you know, princess, that they cut off a
witch's hair close to her head, in order that the devil may not
hide himself in it and lessen the effect of torture. But you,
young lady, are no witch, and that is w^hy I dislike this dis-
graceful task; and if Lieutenant Skshetuski does not cut off
my ears for doing it, I will consider him impotent. Truly
I am all gooscflosh. Shut your eyes at least, princess.''

"They are shut,' 'said Helena.

"Zagloba stood up as if he were raising himself in his
stirrups for a blow. The smooth steel cut the air, and the
long black locks glided over the bark of the trunk and fell
on the ground.

"All right," said Zagloba.

Helena stood up and the cropped hair fell in a black circle

26o WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

over her face, which was covered with blushes, for, in those
days, it was considered a great disgrace for a girl to be shorn
of her hair. It was also a great sacrifice on her part, to which
only necessity would have compelled her. Tears were in her
eyes and Zagloba, who was dissatisfied with himself, made
no attempt to comfort her.

"1 think I have done something dreadful, and I repeat to
you, Panna, that Pan Skshetuski, if he be a true cavalier,
ought to cut off my ears; but it cannot be helped, for your
sex would have been guessed out at once. Now we can go
forward fearlessly. I asked the old man about the road and
held my knife at his throat while I did so. lie told me that
we would see three oaks in the steppes in the vicinity of
which was a wolf's cave, and near the cave, the way led across
Jarovka to Zolotonosha. He also said that peasants drive
that way, so we may find a place in a wagon. Oh, these are
sad hours that we are passing together. 1 shall never forget
them. Now, we must leave our swords here, for it is not suit-
able for a travelling beggar and his boy to carry a mark of
nobility. I will hide them under this stump. Perhaps,
by God's help, I may find them again some day. This sword
has seen many a fight and won many victories. Believe me,
princess, I would have had a regiment to-day if the envy and
wickedness of men had not driven me to hot drink. So it
is always in the world. There is justice nowhere. Because I
did not run like a fool into the midst of death, and because 1
had the good sense, like another Cunctator to combine fore-
thought with bravery, Zatsvilikhovski at first said that I was
cowardly. He is a good fellow but has a bad tongue. It is
not long since he twitted me for keeping fellowship with the
Cossacks and, without this fellowship, princess, you would
certainly not have escaped Bohun's power."

As he spoke, Zagloba placed a sword under the stump, and
covered it with grasses and weeds, then he threw the saddle-
bag and lute across his shoulders, took the stick pointed with
flint for striking fire in his hand, whirled it in the air two
or three times, and said:

"Come, that's not so bad. We c^n now strike fire and count
the teeth of many a dog or wolf. The worst of all is having
to go on foot, but it cannot be helped, let us go!"

They started, the black-haired boy walking ahead and the
old man following. The old man grunted and cursed, for he
was warm from walking although a wind was blowing across

WITH FIRE AND &WORD. 26 1

the steppes. This wind gave a dark tmge to the cheeks of
the pretty boy. They presently came to a hollow, at the
bottom of which was a spring which poured its crystal waters
into the Kahamlik. In the vicinity of this hollow, not far
from the river, there grew, upon a slight eminence, three
mighty oaks. Our wanderers turned in their direction. They
soon found the traces of the path which, in the steppes, was
marked by yellow blossoms that sprang up out of the cow-
manure. The road was deserted, no Chumaks were to be
seen; no cattle wending their way slowly along the road.
Only here and there, lay their bones, which the wolves had
brought here and which gleamed white in the sun. The wan-
derers continued their way without interruption, except that
they rested awhile under the oaks. The black-haired boy lay
down to sleep in the grass and the old man watched. They
crossed streams and where they was no ford they walked
along the bank looking for one. Sometimes the old man
would carry the boy across on one arm, with such ease as to
create astonishment with a man who carried a beggar's staff;
But he was a stout old man. They walked thus until even-
ing, till finally the boy sat down beside the road fringed
by an oak forest and said:

"I have no more breath; my strength is going; I can go
no farther. I will lie down here and die."

The old man was filled with dreadful anxiety.

"Oh this cursed \i^ilderness," said he, "no village, no cabin,
no living soul on the road; but we cannot remain here during
the night. The night is already falling, in an hour it will be
dark, but listen."

The old man paused and for a moment absolute silence
reigned. It was suddenly interrupted by a prolonged, dismal
sound that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth and,
in truth, came out of the ravine that lay not far from the
road.

"Those are wolves," said Zagloba; *1ast night we had
horses, and they ate them up; now they would like to eat us.
I have a pistol under my waistcoat, but I do not know if I
have enough powder for two efhots and I would not like to
be a marcepan at the wolves' wedding. Listen, princess —
again!"

The howling was heard again and appeared to be nearer.

"Get up child," said the old man. If you cannot walk, I
will carry you. What shall we do? I see that I have already

262 WITH PlIiE AND SWORD.

grown to like you, and it is probably because I am unmarried
and have no lawful heirs; if I have unlawful ones they are
Mussulmans, for I have lived long in Turkey. The race of
Zagloba with his coat of arms "in the brow" will die out
with me. You will care for me in my old age, but now get
up or let me carry you on my shoulders."

"My feet are so heavy that 1 can hardly move."

"And there you were, boasting of your strength, young
lady. But quiet, quiet, for God's sake, I hear dogs barking!
Yes, yes, they are dogs, not wolves. Demianovka must be
quite near, as the old man said. God be praised and thanked!
I was just wondering whether we had not better make a fire
to keep away the wolves; but we should have certainly both
of us gone to sleep for we were both exhausted. Yes, yes,
those are dogs, do you hear?"

"Let us go," said Helena, whose strength had suddenly
returned.

They had hardly stepped out of the wood when they saw,
at a distance of a few furlongs, the smoke from a number
of cabins. They saw also three little cupolas of a Greek
church covered with fresh tin that glittered in the dusk of
evening. The barking of dogs became more distinct.

"Yes, that is Demianovka, it cannot be anything else,"
said Zagloba. "Beggars are always well received; perhaps
we may get a bed and supper, and perhaps some good people
will forward us on our road. Wait a minute, princess, that
is a village of the prince and there certainly must be a vice-
starosta, so we can rest ourselves and gather news. The
prince must be on his way. Perhaps rescue will come sooner
than you hoped; but^-do not forget that you are dumb. I
am already beginning to lose my own senses, for I told you
to call me Onufry but, as you are dumb, you must not call
me anything; I shall speak for you and myself and God be
thanked! I can speak the peasants' patois as well as Latin.
But forward, forward! See there are the first cabins already
close by. My God! When will there be an end to our
wanderings. If we could only get some beer, I would thank
God for that also."

Zagloba ceased speaking, and they walked along, side by
side in silence." Then he continued:

"Remember, lady, that you are dumb. If anyone asks you
anything, point to me and say: Mm! hm! hm! nya! nya! I
have noted that you are very quick-witted and it is a question

^YITH FIRE AND SWORD, 263

now of our skins. If we should happen by dhance to come
across a company of the prince's, or of the hetman's army,
we would at once tell them who we are, especially if we can
find a polite officer who is a friend of Skshetuski. You are
really under the prince's care and have nothing to fear from
the soldiers. Oh, what is that fire burning down there in
the hollow? Ila! Ila! it is a blacksmith's — ^a forge! But
I see a number of men there. Let us go there."

In the cleft which formed a kind of ravine, stood a forge,
from the chimney of which golden sparks, like sheaves of
wheat, and clouds of smoke arose, and through the open doors
and numerous holes that had been bored through the walls,
shone a bright light in which dark forms could be seen pass-
ing to and fro, inside the shop. Outside the blacksmith's
shop a number of forms standing about in groups could be
seen in the twilight. The hammers beat time on the anvil
so that their echoes filled the air, and these echoes blended
with the singing outside the shop, with the noise of conver-
sation, and with the barking of dogs. When Zagloba saw
all this, he turned to this hollow, struck his lute, and began
to sing:

On the hillside at harvest
The reapers are seen
The Cossacks are moving
Below on the green,
And down the ravine.

Singing thus he approached the crowd of men who were
standing before the blacksmith's shop. He looked about him:
They were peasants, drunk for the most part; almost all held
poles in their hands and at the end of some of these poles
were fastened scythes or sharp pikes. The smiths in the
shop were working at just such pikes and bending the
scythes.

"Oh a Dziad! a dziad!" cried one of the crowd.

"Praised be God," said Zagloba.

"For ever and ever. Amen."

"Tell me, good people, is this Demainovka?"

"Demainovka? Why do you ask?"

"They told me on the road," contiued the old beggar, "that
good people lived there, who would receive the blind singers,
give them food and drink and entertain them over night and
give them some pennies. Old man as I am, I have travelled
a long way, and the boy beside me cannot go any further. The

264 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^'^ 8W0RD.

poor fellow is dumb, and is leading me, for I cannot see. I
am an unhappy, blind man. God will bless you, good people
and also St. Nicholas, the worker of miracles, will bless you,
and St. Onufry will bless you. I can see a little out of one
eye, but the other has been blind for a long time, so I travel
about with my lute, sing my songs and live, like the birds,
on that which falls from good people's hands.^*

"And where do you come from, old father?'^

"Oh from far, far away; but allow me to rest; I see that
there is a bench near the shop. You poor fellow sit down
too," he said to Helena pointing to the bench. "We have
come from beyond Ladava, good people, but we have been
away from home a long, long time and now we have come
from the fair in Brovarki."

"And what good news did you hear there?" asked an old
man, who held a scythe in his hand.

"We have heard a great deal, but whether it is good I do
not know. A great many people are collected there; they
said of Khmyelnitski, that he had beaten the hetman's son,
and his knights. They also said that on the Russian bank
of the Dnieper the peasants are rising against their masters."

A crowd of men soon surounded Zagloba, who sat beside
the young princess, and from time to time struck the strings
of his lute.

"And you, daddy, did you hear that they had rebelled?"

"Oh, certainly, for misery is the lot of us peasants."

"But they say that the misery will soon come to an end."

"In Kiev they found on the altar a writing from Christ
the Lord, saying that there will be a frightful, horrible war,
and a great outpouring of blood in the whole Ukraine."

The semicircle around the bench on which Zagloba sat
closed still closer around him.

"What do you say, a writing?"

"Yes, yes, a writing, as true as I live! About war, shed-
ding of blood. . . . But I cannot talk any more, poor old
man, my throat is dry."

"Here, daddy, take a glass of gorzalka and tell us what
you heard in the world. We know that dziads travel about
everywhere and know everything. There were some here, not
long since, and they told us that the last hour had come for
the nobles, through Khmyelnitski, and so we have had our
scythes and pikes ready that we may not be too late; and
now we do not know if we should start in now and fight or
wait for a letter frojii Khmyelnitski,'^

mfti FtRE AND SWORD, 265

Zagloba emptied the glass, smacked his lips, then reflected
a while and said:

"And who tells you that the time has come to begin?"

"We wish it ourselves."

"Begin! begin!" cried a number of voices, "if the Zaporo-
jians have killed the lords, we will begin too."

The scythes and spears clashed in their powerful hands and
gave forth an ominous sound.

Then there was silence, only the sound of the. hammers on
the anvil were to be heard. The future ringleaders waited to
hear what the old man would say. The Dziad thought and
thought, and then he asked:

"Whose men are you?"

"Prince Yeremy's."

"And whom do you wish to kill?"

The peasants looked confused.

"Him?" asked the old man.

"We could not lay hold on."

"Oh, impossible, children, impossible! I was in Lubni and
saw the prince with my own eyes. He is terrible. When he
cries aloud, the trees tremble in the forest, and when he
stamps his feet, a hollow is formed in the ground; even the
king fears him, the hetmans obey him, and all dread him.
You could not kill him children, you could not kill him!
You will not seek him out, he will seek you, and you do not
know yet what I know, that all the Poles will come to his as-
sistance and, mark this, that where there is a Pole there is
also a sword."

Gloomy silence dominated the crowd. The old man struck
his lute and continued, his face turned towards the moon:

"The prince is coming and with him as many red standards
and flags as there are stars in heaven and thistles on the
steppes. The wind goes before him and sighs, and do you
know why it sighs, children? It is sighing for your misery.
Before him, strides ^Mother Death,^ with her scythe, and tolls
a bell; and do you know what she is tolling? She is tolling
your death."

"Lord have mercy on us," said in low tones terrified voices.

And again, no sound was heard but the clang of the ham-
mers.

'^Who is the prince's commissioner here," asked the old
einger.

"Pan Gdeshinski."

266 ^/^TH PIRB AND SWORD.

"And where is he?'*

"He has fled.'*

"And why did he flee?'*

"Because he heard that pikes and 'scythes are being made,
he was frightened and ran away."

"So much the worse; he will tell the prince about you."

"Why are you croaking like a raven?'' said an old peasant.
Well, now, we believe that the black hour has come to the
lords; they will exist no more, neither on the Russian side of
the Dnieper or the Tartar side; and then when there are no
more masters, princes, but Cossacks, free men — ^there will be
no rent to pay, no duty on brandy, no duty on flour, no bridge
tolls; there will be no more Jews, for so it says in the writing
of Christ of which you told us. And Khmel is as powerful
as the prince; we shall see."

"God grant it," said the daddy. "The lot of the peasants is
hard, and formeriy it was different."

"To whom does the country belong? To the prince! To
whom do the steppes belong? To the prince! To whom the
forests, to whom the herds? To the prince; and ages ago
they were God's forests, God's steppes; whoever came first
took what he wanted and was subject to no one. Now every-
thing belongs to the nobility and to the princes."

"You are right, children," said the blind man, *^ut I will
tell you one thing. You know yourselves that you cannot
withstand the prince, here, you know. Whoever wishes to
slaughter their masters had better not remain here, as long
as Khmyelnitski has not measured his strength with the
prince, })ut fly to Khmyelnitski — at once, to-morrow; for the
prince is already on his way. If Pan Gdeshinski persuades
him to come to Demainovka the prince will not let you live,
but will hew you down to the very last man — so you had bet-
ter fly to Khmyelnitski. The more of you he has over there
the easier it will be for him to finish up the war! Oh, but
he has a difficult task before him! First, the hetmans and
the numberless forces of the king; then the princes who are
more mighty than the hetmans; so run, children, to the help
of Khmyelnitski and the Zaporojians, for the poor fellows
will not be able to hold out — and they are fighting with the
lords for your freedom, for your welfare. Be quick, and thus
you will save yourself from the prince and help Khmyelnit-
ski."

"He is right!" cried every voice.

W/TH FIRE AND SWORD, 267

"He is right!"

"Wise daddy!"

"So you saw the prince on the way?"

"Saw him? I did not see him, but I heard in Brovarki
that he had already started from Lubni. He is burning and
cutting wherever he sees a pike. Earth and sky are all that
escape him."

"Jiord have mercy on us?"

"And where shall we find Khmyelnitski?"

"That is why I came here, children, on purpose to tell you
where you can find him. Go, children, to Zolotonosha, and
from there to Trekhtimirov, and there you will find Khmyel-'
nitski waiting for you. The people are flocking there from
all villages, hamlets, and farms. The Tartars are also coming
there. Otherwise the prince would not allow you to wander
on your mother earth."

"And you father, will go with us?"

"I cannot go, for my old feet will not carry me any longer,
hut get a wagon ready for me and 1 will travel with you; and
before we get to Zolotonosha I will go on ahead to see if the
Prince's armies are there. If they are there, we will turn out
of the road and go directly to Trekhtimirov, for that is Cos-
sack land. And now, give me something to eat and drink for
I am hungry, and my boy is hungry. Early to-morrow morn-
ing we will start, out, and on the way I will sing you about
Prince Pototski and Prince Yeremy. Oh! those terrible lions!
There will be a great shedding of blood in the Ukraine. The
sky is very red and the moon floats as if in blood. Pray,
children, for ( od's mercy; for many of you will not wander
ninch longer on earth. I also heard that the vampires are
rising from the graves and howling."

The aRRoml)led crowd of peasants were seized with terror
and, involuntarily began to look around them, to cross them-
selves, and to whisper to one another. At length, one called
out:

"To Zolotonosha!"

"To Zolotonosha!" repeated all the men, as though they
would there find refuge and safety.

"To Trekhtimirov!"

"Death to the Poles, and the nobles!"

Rnrldcnly a young Cossack stepped fon^^ard out of the
crowd, fshook his pike and cried:

"Brothers, if wo are to go to Zolotonosha, let us go to-day
to the house of the Commissioner."

268 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"To the Commissioner's house!" cried all the voices at once.

"Burn! Plunder!"

But the old beggar who had been sitting with his head
sunk on his breast, got up and said:

"Hey, children, do not go to the Commissioner! Do not
bum, it might be the worse for you. The prince with his
army may be in the neighborhood, notice the fire, and come.
Then there will be trouble. Instead of that, give me some-
thing to eat and show me my couch. It will be better for you
to sit quietly and not to buzz out about like bees."

"What he says is true," called several voices.

"What he says is true? You are a fool, Maxim."

"Come, father, to my house! I will give you bread and
salt and a cup of mead and, when you have eaten, you shall
have some hay to sleep on in the cabin," said the old peasant
turning to the old man.

Zagloba stood up and pulled Helena by the sleeve of her
jerkin. The young princess had fallen asleep.

"The boy walked until he was tired and I fell asleep myself
even under the sound of the anvil," said Zagloba. But in his
soul he thought;

"Oh! sweet innocence, that can sleep in the midst of spears
and knives! The angels of heaven must guard thee and in
guarding thee they will also protect me."

He waked her up and they w^ent into the village, which
was not far off. The night was beautiful and peaceful. Tlie
echo of the hammers followed them. The old peasant went
ahead to show them the way in the darkness, and Zagloba
seemed to be repeating a prayer, and murmured in a monoto-
nous voice:

"Oh, Father in heaven, have mercy on us sinners

Do you see Lady? .... Holy Virgin What would

we have done without the peasants' dress As it is

on earth, so it is in heaven. Now we shall get something to
eat and to-morrow we will go to Zolotonosha in a wagon in-
stead of on foot Amen, Amen, Amen. ... It is pos-
sible that Bohun will find our tracks, for our tracks will not
deceive him. . . . Amen! Amen! But he will be too late

for we shall be beyond Prohorowka The devil is not

a terror to the good the land here will be in flames

in a few days if the prince should advance towards the Dnie-
per Amen May the plague . . . May the

devil get them. . . . Listen, Princess, how they are howling

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 269

over there at the forge. . . . Amen. ... It is a heavy task
but 1 am a rogue if 1 do not rescue you; even if we have to
fly to Warsaw. ..."

"What are you mumbling about there, old man?" asked the
peasant.

"Nothing. I am praying for your welfare. Amen, Amen."

"That is my cabin over there."

"Praise be God!"

"For ever and ever! I invite you to bread and salt."

"God will reward."

A few moments later the blind man was partaking of mut-
ton, and drinking mead freely; and the following day he set
out with his boy in a comfortable wagon to Zolotonosha, ac-
companied by several peasants, armed with pikes and scythes.
They passed by Kavrayets, Chemobay and Kropivna. On the
road they saw that everything was in a ferment. The peas-
ants were arming themselves in all directions. The forges
in the ravines worked day and night, and it was only the name
of the dreaded Prince Yeremy that still kept down the blood-
thirsty revolt.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Dnieper, the storm had
broken in its full rage; the news of the defeat at Korsun had
spread over the whole of Russia with lightning speed, and
evervbody seized their weapons.

CHAPTEE V.

The morning after Zagloba's flight, Bohun^s men found
him almost smothered in the cloak that Zagloba had wound
about his head. As he had no severe wounds, however, he
soon came to himself. He recalled everything that had hap-
pened, and fell into a fury, bellowed like a wild beast, cov-
ered his hands with blood from his own bloody forehead, and
darted among his men with his dagger in his hand, so that
his Semenovs did not dare to approach him. Then, he could
not sit on his horse; he had a Jew cradle arranged and placed
between two horses, got into it and rushed like a lunatic in
the direction of Lubni, because he thought that the fugitives
had gone there. He lay there in the Jew cradle, in the midst
of down and of his own blood, and tore through the steppes
like a vampire who, terrified by the morning light, is flying to
its grave; and behind him came his faithful Semenovs in the
firm conviction that they were hastening to their death. In
this manner they reached Vasilovka, where there was a gar-
rison of a hundred men of the Hungarian cavalry belonging
to the prince. The wild Cossack leader attacked them un-
hesitatingly, and, as though he were tired of life, plunged
first into the fray, and after a battle of several hours slew
them all, with the exception of a few soldiers whom he spared
only that he might oblige them to confess through torture.
After he had learned from them that no nobleman had been
seen with a girl in this direction he knew not what to do, and
for very pain dragged the bandages off his wounds. It was
impossible to advance any further, for the regiments of the
prince were stationed around Lubni and these would cer-
tainly been made aware of the battle by the inhabitants of
Vasilovka who had fled in terror. The faithful soldiers there-
fore obliged the ataman who was exhausted from rage to go
back with them to Eozloga, but on their return they found
no trace remaining of the castle, for the peasants of the
neighborhood had plundered and burned it down, together
with Prince Vasil; hoping that if the princes or Prince
Yeremy wished to revenge themselves they would lay the
270

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 271

whole blame upon the Cossacks and Bohun. Therefore they
had burned down all the buildings, destroyed the cherry or-
chard, killed all the servants; for the peasants avenged them-
selves without mercy for the hard treatment and oppression
which they had experienced from the Kurtsevichi. Imme-
diately behind Rozloga, Pleshnievski fell into Bohun's hands
as he was coming from Chigrin with news of the defeat near
the Zolta Woda. They asked him where he was going and
on what errand, and as he became confused and could give
no clear answer, they suspected him. They held him over the
fire until he told all that he knew about the defeat, and about
Zagloba whom he had met the previous day. The Cossack
leader breathed freely. He hung Pleshnievski, and travelled
on now with a firm conviction that Zagloba could not escape
him. The herders gave him new directions, but when he
came to the ford he lost all tracks. There was no danger
of his meeting the old beggar whom Zagloba had plundered,
for he had gone in another direction, down the Kahamlik,
and Avas, besides, so terrified that he hid himself in the rushes
like a fox.

MeanAvhile, a day and a night passed, as the pursuit in the
direction of Vasilovki took exactly two days, Zagloba had
gained an immense advantage. What was to be done now?

In this dilemma Bohun received assistance and advice from
the sergeant, an old wolf of the steppes, who from his youth
up had learned to track the Tartars in the Wild Lands.

"Little father,'' he said, "they fled to Chigrin. And they
have done wisely for they have gained time — ^but when they
heard about Khmyelnitski and learned about the defeat at
the Zolta Woda from Pleshnievski they took another road.
You saw yourself, little father, that they left the highway,
and turned off in a side direction.^'

"Into the steppes?"

"I could find them in the steppes, but they went to the
Dnieper to try and reach the hetmans — therefore they must
have gone to Cherkass or to Zolotonosha and Prokhorovka. . .
And even if they have gone to Pereyaslav, although I do not
believe they have, we will yet find them. We must go one to
Cherkass, the other to Zolotonosha upon the Tschumak road
r-and without loss of time, for if they cross the Dnieper, they
will speed to the hetmans or else fall into the hands of Khmy-
elnitski's Tartars."

"Hurry to Zolotonosha, and I will go to Cherkass, good,
little father,"

2^2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"And be on your guard, for that is a sly fox."

"Oh, I am sly too, little father."

After they had thus arranged their plan of pursuit, they
separated, one going to Cherkass, the other farther up country
to Zolotonosha. That evening, the old sergeant, Anton ar-
rived in Demianovka. The village was empty. Only the
women remained behind, for all the men had gone to Khmyel-
nitski on the Dnieper. When the women saw armed men
coming, and did not know who they were, they hid them-
selves in the cabins and barns, and Anton had to look a long
time before he found an old woman who feared nothing, not
even the Tartars.

"And where are the peasants, mother?"

"How do I know?" she answered, showing her yellow teeth.

"We are Cossacks, little mother, fear nothing, we are not
Poles."

"Poles? the devil take them!"

"You wish us well — do you not?"

"You?" the old woman reflected a minute and "May the
plague take you," she said.

Anton did not know what he should do when, suddenly, the
door of the cabin grated on its hinges, and a pretty young
woman stepped out.

"0 young warriors I heard that you were not Poles."

"That's right."

"So you belong to Khmyelnitski?"

"Yes."

"Not to the Poles?"

"No."

"And whj^ are you asking for the peasants?"

"We are only asking if they have gone away already."

"They have gone! They have gone!"

"Thank God! Now, tell me young woman, has not a cursed
Polish nobleman with his daughter gone through here?"

"A nobleman? A Pole? I did not see them."

"Did anyone pass through here?"

"A blind singer was here. He advised the peasants to go
to Khmyelnitski, to Zolotonosha, and said Prince Yeremy was
coming."

"Where?"

"Yes, coming here; then he was to go to Zolotonosha, so
the daddy said."

"And the daddy advised the peasant? to rebel?"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

273

"Yes, he did."

"Was he alone?"

"No, with a dumb* boy."

"And what did he look like?"

"Who?"

"The old man."

"Oh, old, very old. He played the lute and complained
about the proprietors, but I did not see him."

"And he advised the peasants to rebel," asked Anton once
more.

"Yes, he did."

"Hm! God' keep you young woman."

"God be with you."

Anton thought long and deeply. If this old man should
be Zagloba in disguise, why, in the devil's name, had he ad-
vised the peasants to go over to Khmyelnitski? And then,
where had he got his disguise? Where had he left his horses?
He certainly went away on horseback! But, above all, why
did he excite the peasants to rebellion, and warn them of the
arrival of the prince. The nobleman would not have done
that, and before all would have sought refuge himself with
the prince; and if the prince should go to Zolotonosha, which
was not impossible, he would certainly take vengeance for
Vasilovka. Here Anton started, for a new picket on the gate
suddenly took on the appearance of a stake.

No, this old man was only an old beggar, nothing more.
It is not worth while to go to Zolotonosha? It will i)e better
to escape in the other direction, but what then? Should I
wait, the Prince might come, if I go to Prokhorovka and cross
the Dnieper, I may fall into the hands of the hetmans.

This old wolf of the steppes did not feel comfortable now
in the wide steppes. He felt also that the wolf in him met
his match in the fox in Zagloba.

All at once he slapped his forehead.

"And why did this dziad send the peasants to Zolotonosha
behind which lies Prokhorovka, and behind that again, on
the other side of the Dnieper, the hetmans and the whole
army of the crown?"

Anton resolved to ride in any case to Prokhorovka.

Should he learn, on reaching the river's bank, that the
forces of the hetmans were on the opposite shore he would
not cross the river, but ride up along its banks and unite with
Bohun near Cherkass. In any case, he would get news of

18

274

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

Khmyelnitski along the road. Anton knew from what
Pleshnyevski had told them that Khmyelnitski had taken
Chigrin; that he had sent Kshyvonos against the hetmans;
and that he himself was to follow them immediately with
Tukhay Bey. As an experienced soldier and one who knew
the lay of the land perfectly, Anton was certain that a battle
had already taken place. In this event, one must know which
side one must take. If Khmyelnitski was beaten the hetman's
forces would swarm across the Dnieper in pursuit, and in this
case, he would never find Zagloba; but if Khmyelnitski con-
quered .... Anton could not believe that this would be
the case. It was less difficult to overcome 'the son of the
hetman than the hetman himself. Easier to conquer the
vanguard than the whole army.

"Ah!" thought the old Cossack, "our ataman would do
better to think of his own skin than to think of the girl. At
Chigrin, we could cross the Dnieper and from there escape
to Sich while we have time; here, between Prince Yeremy and
the hetmans, it is difficult to find a safe corner."

Amid such considerations, he rode hastily with his sol-
diers in the direction of the Sula which he had to cross on
leaving. Demainovka if he wished to reach Prokhorovka. They
arrived at Mogilna, which lay directly on the river. Here,
fate favored Antony, for although Mogilna, like Demainovka,
was deserted, he found flat bottom boats and boatmen who
had taken the peasants across the river as they fled across the
Dnieper. The Dnieper country itself did not dare to rebel
beneath the hand of the prince but, from all the villages,
country towns, and settlements came the peasants flocking to
join Khmyelnitski, and to fight under his banner. The news
of the Zaporojian victory near the Zolta Woda flew like light-
ning across the whole Dnieper land. The wild people could
no longer remain quiet, although they, themselves, were not
oppressed for, as we have already said, the prince who pun-
ished the rebel was a true father to the peaceful settlers; and
his commissioners were in constant fear lest they should com-
mit any injustice to the people who were intrusted to their
care. But to these people who, a short time before, had been
transformed from banditti into agriculturists, justice, strict
discipline, and order had become wearisome, and they fled
thither where the hope of an undisciplined freedom beckoned
them. In many of the hamlets, the very women went over to
Khmyelnitski. In Chabanovka and Wisoki, the whole popu-

WITH MRB AND SWORD. 575

lation had left and had burned down their houses behind
them, in order to make it impossible for them to return. In
the hamlets which had not yet been deserted, the men were
arming themselves with all haste.

Anton began to inquire from the boatmen if they had any
news from the other side of the Dnieper. There was news,
but it was contradictory, confused, and unsatisfactory. It
was said that Khmyelnitski was fighting with the hetmans.
Some said he was beaten, others that he was the victor. A
peasant, who had fled to Demainovka, had said that the het-
mans were taken prisoners. The boatmen judged that he was
a nobleman in disguise, but they had not had the courage
to detain him, because they heard that the prince's army was
in the neighborhood. It was fear, indeed, that increased the
size of the prince's army and made out of it an omnipresent
force, for there was probably at this moment not a hamlet in
the whole Dnieper country in which it was not said that the
prince was near. Anton remarked that everyone took his
troop for scouts of Prince Yeremy.

He quieted the boatmen and asked them about the peas-
ants who had come from Demainovka.

"Certainly they were here. We took them over to the other
shore," said the boatmen.

"And was there an old singer among them?"

"Yes."

"And a dumb boy with him, a little fellow?"

"Yes indeed."

"What did the singer look like?"

"lie was not old bu«t fat, and had eyes like a fish, with a
patch over one of them."

"That's the man," grunted Anton, and asked again.

"And the boy?"

"Ah! Father Ataman, just like a cherub! We have never
seen one like him before."

Meanwhile, they had reached the other shore. Now Anton
knew what he had to do.

"Oh, we will bring the young thing back to the Atman,"
he murmured to himself; then turndng to his soldiers, he
cried:

"To horse." They flew along like a flock of frightened
birds although the road was heavy, for the country was full
of ravines and they came to one deep ravine at the bottom of
which was a road that looked as if it was made by nature

276 ^^^'^ FIRE AND SWOHD.

itself, This ravine lead to Kavraytsa, They rode several
furlongs without resting, Anton in advance on the best horse.
They were almost out of the ravine when Anton pulled in
his horse so suddenly that his hind hoofs struck the stones.

"What is that?"

The entrance to the ravine was suddenly filled with men
and horses. Cavalry came into the path and formed into
groups of six. There were about three hundred horses. As
Anton saw this, although he was an old warrior, accustomed
to all kinds of danger, his heart thumped in liis breast and
a deathly pallor overspread his countenance.

He recognized Prince Ycremy's dragoons.

It was too late to fly. There were not two hundred paces
between Anton's troops and the dragoons, and the exhaus-ted
horses of the Semenovs could not have fled long before their
pursuers. His men had also caught sight of the dragoons
and came riding up in haste. In a few minutes, he and hie
men were surrounded on all sides.

"Who are you?" asked the Lieutenant.

"Bohun's men," answered Anton, for he saw that he must
tell the truth as his colors betrayed him. As he however re-
cognized the lieutenant, whom he had frequently seen in
Pereyaslav, he cried joyfully:

"Lieutenant Kushel; thank Ood!"

"Ah; it is you," said the lieutenant, looking at the ser-
geant. "What are you doing here? Where is your atman?"

"The Chief Hetman sent our atman to the Prince Yeremy
to beg for assistance, the atman has ridden to Lubni, and
gave us orders to ride round here in the villages in order to
catch the deserters."

Anton lied as if he were paid for it; but he counted upon
this; that if the company of dragoons had come from the
Dnieper they would not have heard anything about the at-
tack on Rozloga, nor of the flight at Vasilovka, nor of Bohun's
other deeds.

The lieutenant answered however:

"One would think that you were trying to fight your way
to the rebels."

"Why, lieutenant, if we wish to go to Khmyelnitski, we
would not be on this side of the Dnieper," said Anton.

"You are right," said Kushel, "Quite right. I cannot deny
it. But the ataman will not find the Prince Yeremy in
Xiubui."

WITH FIRE AND iiWORD, 277

'^Oh, and where is the prince?"

"He was in Pshyluka. He may possibly have gone to
Lubni yesterday."

"That is a pity. The atman liad a letter to the prince from
the hetraan; and asking your pardon, is your Grace leading
the soldiers from Zolotonosha?"

"No, we were stationed in Kalenki, and have just re-
ceived orders to advance to Lubni, as all the forces have gone;
and from there out out the prince will march forth with all
his forces. Where are you going?"

"To Prokhorovka. That is where the peasants are cross-
ing the river."

"Have many fled?"

"Oh, very many, a great many."

"Well, God be with you!"

"We thank your Grace most humbly. God preserve you!"

The dragoons made way and Anton's escort rode from their
midst towards the opening of the ravine.

As soon as they got into the open steppes, Anton halted
and listened sharply and, as the dragoons disappeared from
sdght and the last echo of their horses' hoofs had died away,
he turned to his soldiers and said:

"Do you know, fools, if I had not been here, within three
days you would have been on stakes in Lubni ; and now gallop
as hard as you can, even if the horses should fall dead.

They rode forward quickly.

"We are in luck," thought Anton, "doubly in luck; first, in
having escaped with a sound skin, and, secondly, because these
dragoons did not come from Zolotonosha, and so Zagloba did
not pass them; for, if he had met them, he would be safe from
any further pursuit."

In fact, it was a very unfavorable circumstance for Zagloba,
and fate seemed throughout to have shown him no favor, that
he had not met Kushel and his company; for had he done so
he would have been saved at once and freed from all anxiety.

Meanwhile the news of the defeat at Korshun had struck
him like lightning in Prokhorovka. On the way to Zoloton-
osha the report was spread in all the villages and country
towns, of a great battle, even of the victory of Khmyelnitski;
but Zagloba did not believe it for he knew from experience
that, among the people, every rumor attains immense propor-
tions, and that they were particularly apt to make the most
of Cossack victories; but, once in Prokhorovka, he could dis-

2^8 ^^^B FIRE AND SWORD.

believe no longer. The terrible, ominous truth struck him
like the blow of a hammer. Khmyelnitski had trumphed;
the royal army was defeated; the hetmans were prisoners, and
the whole Ularaine had risen.

Zagloba lost his head for a moment, for he was in a fright-
ful position. Fortune had not been favorable to him in his
journey for he found no garrison in Zolotonosha. The town
was in a fury against the Poles and the old fortress had been
deserted. He doubted not for a moment that Bohun would
seek him and sooner or later would find his tracks. It was
true that he had made cross tracks like a hunted hare; but he
knew well the bloodhound who was pursuing him, and knew
that this hound would not let himself be thrown off the scent.
Thus Zagloba had, at his back, the revengeful Bohun, and be-
fore him, the surging sea of the peasant rebellion; slaughter,
fire, the Tartar raiders, the bestial mob.

To escape these under such circumstances was an almost
hopeless task, especially to escape with a girl who, in spite of
her disguise, as a beggar boy, attracted universal attention by
h6r extraordinary beauty.

It was enough to make one lose one's reason. But Zagloba
did not lose it for long. In the midst of the'confusion in
his mind, he saw very plainly, or rather felt very clearly that
he feared Bohun a hundred times more than he feared fire
and water, rebellion and slaughter, yea, even than Khmyelnit-
ski himself. He shuddered at the thought that he might fall
into the hands of the terrible Cossack. "He would flay me,"
he repeated constantly to himself, "and here, in front of me,
a sea of rebellion!''

There was one moans of escape. To give up Helena and
leave her to God's will, but he did not want to do that.

"It cannot be!" he said to her. "You must have bewitched
me, and the end of it will be that on account of you, I shall
be skinned."

He would not leave her. He would not entertain the
thought for a moment. But what could he do?

"Ah!" he thought, "there's no longer time to search for
the prince. Before mc is a sea. I will dive into this sea;
perhaps I can hide myself and, by God's help, get over to the
other shore."

And he decided to cross to the right side of the Dnieper.

But at Prokhorovka that was not easy. Nicholas Potocki
had taken for Kshechovski and his soldiers all the yawls,

WITH PtM AND SWOkD.

^79

flat bottom boats, caiques and small boats from Pereyaslav to
Chigrin for Kshyvonos and the regiments under his com-
mand. There was only an unseeworthy flat-bottomed pont in
Prokhorovka. A thousand men were waiting for this pont
to get across th-e Dnieper. In the village all the huts, "bams
and stables and sheds were occupied by soldiers and every-
thing commanded unheard of price, so that Zagloba was
really obliged to earn his bread with his lute. It would be
twenty-four hours before they could cross the river, for the
pont had twice been damaged, and had to be repaired. He
passed the night sitting with Helena on the bank of the river
hei=ide the fire, amid a swarm of drunken peasants. The
night was cool and windy. The princess sank exhausted
from fatigue and pain, for the peasant's coarse boots had rub-
1)0(1 the skin off her feet. She was afraid she might become
very ill. Her face was dark and pale. Her wonderful eyes
were dimmed. She expected every moment to be recognized
in spite of her disguise or to fall suddenly into the hands of
Bohun's men. A frightful spectacle was enacted before her
eyes this very night. The peasants had brought from the
mouth of the Rosa some noblemen who w^ere attempting to
seek refuge in Vishnyovyetski's dominions from the Tartar
invaders, and they murdered them on the bank of the river.
They bored out their eyes, and crushed their heads between
two stones. There were, at that time, in Prokhorovka two
Jews with their families. The savage mob threw them into
the Dnieper and, as they did not sink, they took long poles
and pushed them under the water. These proceedings were
accompanied by wild noises and drunkenness. Intoxicated
Cossacks frolicked with intoxicated Cossaek women. Hor-
rible laughter sounded ominously on the dark banks of the
Dnieper. The wind blew fiercely on the fire and carried with
it red embers and sparks which were extinguished in the
water. From time to time, the hoarse voice of some drunk-
ard called through the darkness:

"Save yourself, Yeremy is coming P' Then the mob would
dash blindly towards the shore, crowd each other and fall into
the water. Onje Zagloba and the princess were nearly
trampled under foot. It was a hellish night and seemed as it
would never end. Zagloba begged a quart of brandy from
which he drank himself, and also obliged the princess to
drink; otherwise she would have fainted or fallen into a fever.
At length the waters of the Dnieper began to gleam. Mom-

^^ Wti'H FIRE ANt) Sl^ORb.

ing was breaking; day had come! a cloudy, colorless day.
Zagloba was anxious to cross to the other side of the river as
soon as possible. Luckily the pont had been mended, but
there was a frightful crowd around it.

"Room for the old beggar, room for the old beggar/' cried
Zagloba, holding Helena before him with outstretched hand,
and shielding her from the crowd. "Room for the old beg-
gar. I am going to Khmyelnitski and Kshechovski. Room
for the old beggar, good Cossacks, dear people, brothers, may
the black death overtake yoy, you and your children! I do
not eee very well. 1 shall fall into the water and my boy with
me. Make room little children! May you be paralyzed in
all your limbs! May the plague take you and may you all
perish ait the stake!"

Thus cringing, cursing, praying, but at the same time push-
ing the crowd aside with his powerful arms, he pushed Hel-
ena forward first on the boat, and then, after he had climbed
in himself with some difficulty, he began to cry again:

"There are enough here already! Why do you crowd so,
you will sink the boat if too many of you crowd on it.
Enough, enough, your turn will come and if it does not
come "

"Enough, enough," cried those who had found room in
the boat. "Put off, put off!"

The oars began to move and the boat left the shore. The
Sitrong current carried it down the stream in the direction of
Domontova.

They had hardly got half w^ay across the river when they
heard voices and loud cries from Prokhorovka. A frightful
confusion had arisen among the mob who had remained on
the shore. Some were running wildly towards Domomtova,
others jumped into the water; others screamed, tossed their
arms wildly in the air, or threw themselves on the ground.

"What's the matter? What has happened?" those on the
pont asked.

"Yeremy!" cried a voice.

"Yeremy, Yeremy, let us fly," they cried.

The oars played violently against the stream, the boat
darted awav like a Cossack canoe. At this moment, some
horsemen appeared on the Prokhorovka shore.

"Yeremy's army!" cried those on the pont.

The horsemen rode up and down the bank, moving quickly
hither and thither and asking questions, finally they shouted
to those on the boat:

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

281

"Halt! Halt!"

Zagloba looked across and a cold sweat covered him from
head to foot; he recognized Bohun's Cossacks.

It was indeed Anton with his soldiers.

But as said before, Zagloba never lost his presence of mind
for long. He held his hand before his eyes as though, being
half blind, he must look for some time, and then, a^ if he
were being flayed, he began, to scream:

"Children, those are Vishnyovyetski's Cossacks. For God
and th-e Holy Virgin's sake get quickly to the other shore!
Those that have remained behind we must leave behind and
we must destroy the boat, otherwise we shall all be killed!"

"Quicker! Quicker! We must destroy the boat," cried the
other passengers.

Such a noise arose that they could not hear the cries from
the Prokhorovka side. At this moment the boat stuck on
the sand of the shore, and the peasants began to get out; but
hardly had one or two of them got out when they began to
wrench at the side planks of the pent and to chop it to pieces
with their axes. The seats and the shatjtered sides flew about
in the air. They destroyed the ill-fated pont as if they were
mad; tore it to pieces, fear lending them all the more
strength.

All this time Zagloba was 3creaming:

"Chop it, break it! Bum it! Save yourselves! Yeremy
is coming! Yeremy is coming!"

While he was screaming, he winked at Helena with his
sound eye and began to carry on a succession of very meaning
blinks.

Meanwhile, at sight of the destruction of the ferry, the cries
on the other shore increased; but the distance was so great
that one could not understand what was said. The beckon-
ing of hands looked like threats and only hastened the de-
struction of the pont.

In a few minutes, the boat had disappeared when, sud-
denly, a scream of terror and horror came from every breast.

"They have jumped into the water, they are swimming
towards us," whined the peasants.

One of the horsemen had really jumped into the water; a
number of others had followed him and they were swimming
their horses towards the opposite shore. It was indeed a
foolhardy act, for swollen by spring floods, the river had a
more powerful current than usual, and in many places forme<i

282

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD.

eddies and whilrpools. The horses were carried away by the
stream and could not swim straight across. The water car-
ried them down with increasing swiftness.

"They cannot cross," cried the peasants.

"They are drowning."

"Thank God! Oh, one horse has already sunk."

"To destruction with them."

The horses had already swum about one-third of the dis-
tance across the river, but the strong current carried them
steadily down. They were evidently losing their strength and
sunk gradually deeper and deeper. Before long the riders
were up to their hips in water. A few minutes passed. The
peasants from Shelepukha hastened to the spot, in order to
see what was going on. Now, only the horses heads were to
be seen above water and the Cossacks stemmed the water with
their breasts. But they were already half-way across. Sud-
denly a horse's head, as well as his rider, disappeared under
the water. Then a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth ... the
number of the swimmers was growing smaller. On bath sides
of the river, a gloomy silence reigned; but all went down to
the river to see what was going on. Two-thirds of the river
had already been crossed. The number of the swimmers was
smaller, but one could alrendy hear the heavy breathing of
the horses, and the voices of the (■ossacks urging them for-
ward. It was evident that some of them would reach their
goal.

Suddenly, Zagloba's voice broke the silence:

"Hey! Children, shoulder your muskets! Death to the
prince's men!" Smoke arose, shots were heard, despairing
cries from the river; and, in a moment, horses, riders, all had
disappeared.

The river was clear. Only here and there, at a distance, in
the swirl of the waves appeared a horse's body or a red Cos-
sack cap.

Zagloba looked at Helena and blinked. . • •

OHAPTER VL

Before Vishnyovyetski had found Skshetuski seated on the
ruins of Kosloga, he had already heard of the defeat at Kor-
sun, for Colonel Polanovski, an ollicer of the prince* had
brought him the news in Sahotyn. The prince had atop))ed
before this in Pshyluka and had sent Captain Uogushiv Mas-
kievieh with a letter to the hetnians, in which he inquired
where they desired him to station himself with his entire
forces. As, however, Pan Jilashkievich was a long time in
bringing back an answer, the Prince marched to l^ereyaslav
and sent advance guards ahead of him on all sides with com-
mands that the regiments which were scattered her and there
in the Dnieper land should assemble as soon as possible in
Lubni.

But there came news that several Cossack companies, sta-
tioned in the border fortresses, near the Tartars, had dis-
banded or had even gone over to the rebels. Tlie prince
saw his forces thus suddenly diminished and grieved over
it deeply; for he had not thought it possible that these men
whom he had so often led to battle should ever leave him.
But when he met Colonel Polanovski and hea^rd the news
of the defeat he concealed this from the army and marched
forward towards the Dnieper, with the intention of rushing
blindly into the midst of the storm and rebellion, and either
avenging the defeat, wiping out the disgrace of the army,
or .losing his own life. He thought, besides, that a small and,
perhaps considerable portion, of the king's army had escaped
defeat and, if the army were reinforced by his six thousand
men, he might hope to be able to measure himsdf with
Khmyelnitski.

As soon as he had arrived in Pereyaslav, threfore, he com-
manded little Volodiyovski and Kushel to send out their
dragoons in all directions; to (^herkass and Mantow, to Hye-
kerna, to Buchach, to Stayeiki, to Trechtimirov, that they
might bring away all the boats that they could find in the
neighborhod. Then the army would cross over to Rzishchov

283

284 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

from the left bank. The messengers learned of the defeat
from the fugitives that they met on their road but did not
find a single boat in any of those places for, as has been
already said, the Chief Iletman had already taken half of
them for Kshechovski and Barabash and the rest had been
destroyed by the excited mob on the right bank of the river,
for fear the prince might come. Nevertheless, Volodiyovski
with ten men managed to reach the right bank on a raft that
he had put together in a hurry out of tree trunks.

He caught a few Cossacks whom he brought to the prince.
The prince learned from them of the immense proportions
the rebellion had assumed and of the dreadful results that
had already followed the victory at Korsun. The whole
Ukraine was up in arms to the last man; the rebellion spread
like a flood over the land and increased momentarily. The
nobility protected themselves, in their castles and fastnesses,
but many of them were already in the hands of the rebels.
Khmyelnitski's power increased with every hour. The Cos-
sack prisoners gave the number of his army as already two
hundred thousand men and, in a few days, this number might
easily be doubled. That was why he remained in Korsun
after the victory, and made use of the period of rest to entice
more people into his innumerable ranks. He divided the
blacks into regiments, made colonels of the atamans and the
experienced Zaporojian sergeants, and sent vanguards, whole
divisions, to attack castles in the vicinity. Prince Yeremy
considered all this and saw plainly that, for lack of boats
which would 'take at least a week to prepare for six thous-
and men, and that on account of the strength of the enemy
which had increased beyond all expectations, he should in
no way be able to cross the Dnieper. His council of war com-
prised Polanovski, Colonel Baranovski, commander of the
vanguard Alexander Baranovski, Volodiyovski and Vurtsel
and they were of the opinion that they ought to retreat to-
wards the north to Chernigov that lay beyond dense forests,
and from there, passing by Lubech, cross the river to Brah-
inov. This was a long and dangerous road, for beyond the
woods of Chernigov on the way to Brahinov, there was im-
mense swamps which the foot soldiers could hardly cross, to
say nothing of the heavy cavalry, the wagons, and the ar-
tillery. The prince however was pleased with this advice,
but he wished before taking that long journey, to go into
his own country across the Dnieper to show himself here and

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 285

there in order to repress any immediate outbreak, unite the
nobility under his wings, spread terror and leave the remem-
brance of terror in the minds of the people, which alone, in
the absence of the ruler would be the guardian of the land
and the protector of those who could not march forward with
the army. Besides this the Princess Grizelda, the ladies
Sbaraski, the court ladies, the whole household, and some
regiments, mainly infantry, were yet in Lubni. The prince
resolved to go there and take a last farewell.

That very day, the army marched out, Volodiyovski with
his dragoons at their head, who although they were all Rus-
sians, without exception, were under absolute discipline and
were transformed into regular troops, and surpassed almost
all the other companies in loyalty. The country was still
quiet; here and there, bands of ruffians had formed who plun-
dered both the peasants and the landed proprietors as well.
A considerable number of these were caught on the march
and impaled; but the peasants had not rebelled. Their minds
were in a ferment; there was fire in their eyes and breasts;
they were arming in silence; they fled across the Dnieper,
but fear, as yet, restrained the thirst for blood and murder.
One thing alone could be regarded as a bad omen for the
future, which was, that the peasants, even in the villages
which had not yet gone over to Khmyelnitski, fled at the
approach of the prince's army, as though they feared that
the terrible prince would read in their faces what they were
hiding in their consciences and that he would punish them
without further ceremony. However, he did punish where-
ever he found the slightest sign of approaching insurrection,
and as he was unbridled by nature, in his rewards as in his
punishments, he punished beyond all measure and without
mercy. One might say that at that time two vampires
haunted both sides of the Dnieper — one attacking the no-
bility, Khmyelnitski — the other, the rebellious people —
Prince Yeremy. The people whispered to each other that
when these two met the sun would grow dark and the waters
and all the rivers would turn into blood; but this meeting
was still in the future; for that Khmyelnitski, the victor of
the Zolta Woda,the victor at Korsun; that Khmyelnitski, who
had reduced the king^s forces in the dust; had taken the het-
mans prisoner, and who now stood at the head of a hundred
thousand warriors, was simply afraid of this Lord of Lubni,
who, from the other side of the Dnieper, was setting out to

286 ^^TH FIRE AND SWORD.

find him. The prince's army marched through Sleporod;
the prince himself, however, had halted at Philipovo in
order to rest, when news was brought him that envoys from
Khmyelnitski with a letter were outside, and requested an
audience. The prince commanded that they should be ad-
mitted at once. Six Zaporojians then stepped into the house
of the vice-starosta where the prince was stopping; they
stepped forward boldly enough, especially the spokesman, the
ataman Sukha-Ruka, who could not forget the victory of
Korsun and his newly acquired dignity of colonel. When
they saw the countenance of the prince, however, they were
seized with such terror, that they fell at his feet and dared
not speak a word.

The prince, who was surrounded by his principal knights
commanded fhem to rise and asked why they came.

"A letter from the hetman," answered Sukha-Ruka.

The prince fixed his glance upon the Cossack and said
quietly, emphasizing each word.

"From a scoundrel, vagabond, and a bandit, not from a
hetman.'^

The Zaporojians grew pale, or rather, yellow; let their
heads sink on their breasts, and stood silently at the door.

Then, the prince commanded Colonel Mashkievich to take
the letter and read it. The letter was couched in humble
terms. In Khmyelnitski, in spite of the victory of Korsun,
the fox triumphed over the lion, the serpent over the eagle;
for he did not forget that he was writing to Vishnyovyetski.
lie acted with friendliness perhaps only to lull supicion and
thus to sting more easily. lie wrote that what had happened
had been Chaplinski's fault; that the chances of fortune had
overtaken the hetmans, and that it was not his, Khymel-
nitski's fault, but the fault of want of judgment on the part
of the hetmans and because of oppressions which they toler-
ated in the Ugraine. He begged the prince, therefore, not
to be angry with him but to graciously pardon him; in return
for which, he would be the prince's faithful servant. But,
in order to gain the prince's favor for his envoys and to pre-
serve them from the prince's anger, he announced that he
had freed Colonel Skshetuski who had been taken prisoner
in Sich, and who was alive and well.

Here followed long complaints of Skshetuski's haughtiness;
that he had not been willing to take letters from Khmyel-
nitski to the prince and thus grossly insulted his dignity as

WltH ftRB AifD SWOkD.

287

hetman, and the dignity of the whole Zaporojian army.
Khmyelnitski attributed all that had happened, from the de-
feat on the Zolta Woda to that of Korsun, to the haughtiness
and mistrust with which the Cossacks were treated by the
Poles. The letter closed with assurances of regret and his
fealty to the Commonwealth, and of his submission to the
will of the prince.

The messengers themselves were astonished at the contents
of the letter for they had not known what was in it and sup-
posed insults and bold challenges rather than entreaties. It
was clear to them that Khmyelnitski did not wish to risk
a battle at present with such a celebrated leader and that
instead of marching against him with his whole strength,
he was trying to create delay, and pretending humility, evi-
dently in the expectation that the forces of the prince would
be worn out by long marches and by battles and encounters
with various Cossack detachments; in a word he was evi-
dently very much afraid of the prince. The messengers
therefore were more humble than ever and, while the letter
was being read tried to read their fate in the countenance
of the prince and although in coming they were prepared
for any emergency they were now shaking with terror. The
prince, however, listened quietly; closed his eyes from time
to time, as though he wished to hide the lightning that was
contained in them; but it was evident that he was curbing
his terrible anger with a great effort. When Mashkievich had
finished, he said nothing to the envoys but commanded Volo-
diyovski to take them away and keep them under guard;
then he turned to his officers with the following words:

"The cunning of this enemy is great! He either thinks
that he will lull me to sleep with this letter in order to attack
a sleeping man, or he is trying to entice me into the heart
ofthe Commonwealth, finish up the business there, and receive
pardon from the King and fr©m the Diet; and he will then
feel secure. For if I wished to continue fighting him then,
it would not be he, but I, that would be acting contrary to
the will of the Commonwealth and I should be considered a
rebel."

Vurtsel put his hand to his forehead:

"0 astute fox!"

"What step do you advise me to take, honorable gentle-
men?" asked the prince. "Speak boldly, and then I will tell
you my own opinion."

288 ^ITB FIRE AND .SfWOi?/).

Old Zatsvilikhovski, who had left Chigrin some time be-
fore and had joined the prince, said:

"Your grace can do as he pleases, but, if I might advise,
I would say that your Highness has guessed Khmyelnitski's
intentions with your ordinary penetration. They are exactly
what he wants to do; nothing else. I think therefore we
should pay no attention to his letter; but, in the first place,
put the princess in safety, then cross the Dnieper and begin
the war before Khmyelnitski enters into any negotiation;
for it would be a disgrace and a dishonor to the Common-
wealth if she should allow such acts to go unpunished, but
(and here he turned toward the other officers) I do not
consider my opinion is infallible and I am waiting to hear
yours/'

Commander of the army, Alexander Zamoj^ski, struck his
sword, "Worthy Standard bearer, age and wisdom speak
through you, we must cut off the head of this hydra before
it grows and devours us."

"Amen?" said Father Mukhovyetski.

The other officers said nothing; they followed the example
of the commander, struck their swords and ground their
teeth; Vurtsel however said:

"My Prince, it is in fact an insult to your Highness that
this vagabond has dared to write a letter to you; a Koshov
Ataman bears a rank confirmed and recognized by the Com-
monwealth, even the Kurzen atamans can boast the same;
but he (Khmyelnitski) has made himself a hetman and can-
not be regarded otherwise than as a bandit; and, therefore,
Skshetuski behaved in a praiseworthy manner when he re-
fused to carry these letters to your Highness."

"I am of your opiniion," said the prince, "and as I cannot
reach him myself, he shall be punished in the person of his
envoys."

He then turned to the Colonel of the Tartar bodyguard.

"Colonel Vyershul, order your Tartars ta behead these
Cossacks; but to cut a stake for their leader and impale him
at once."

Vyershul bowed his red head and went out. Father Muk-
hovyetski, however, who often undertook to restrain the
prince, folded his hands as if in prayer, and looked implor-
ingly into his eyes as though he would entreat for mercy.

"I know what you mean. Father," said Prince Yeremy,
but it cannot be. This must be done in return for the cruelty

WITH PIM AND SWORD.

^&g

which they practiced on the other side of the Dnieper; and to
maintain our dignity and for the welfare of the whole Com-
monwealth. It must be shown by such an example that there
is some one who is not afraid of this bandit leader, and who
will treat him as a highwayman; who though he writes
humbly, indeed acts with boldness and commands like a
sovereign prince of the Ukraine, and brings such paroxysms
to the Commonwealth as she has not known in a long time."

"My Prince, he has liberated Lieutenant Skshetuski, as he
writes/' said the priest timidly.

"I thank you in his name for putting him on a level with
bandits," here the prince knitted his brows, '^Dut enough of
this. I see," he added, turning to his officers, "that you all
declare for war. That is also my wish. We will march, then,
to Chernigov, gather the nability on the way, cross the river
at Brahinov, and then march toVards the south. Now to
Lubni."

"So help us God," said the colonels.

At this moment, the door opened and Rostvorovski ap-
peared, the commander of the Wallach company who had been
sent out three days before wit^ three hundred horsemen, to
j-econnoitre.

"My Prince," he cried, "the insurrection is growing. Roz-
loga is burned down; the garrison at Vasilovka has been de-
stroyed to the last man."

"How? What? Where?" was asked on all sides.

But the prince motioned with his hand and asked:

"Who did it, bandits or soldiers?"

"Bohun, they say."

"Bohun?"

"Yes, he himself."

"When did it happen?"

"Three days ago?"

"Did you follow his tracks. Did you catch informers?
Did you ask for news?

"I followed his tracks but could not catch him, for three
days had already elapsed. I obtained some information on
the road. They went back to Chigrin and there they divided,
one-half going to Cherkass, the other to Zolotonosha and
Prokhorovka.

Then Kurshel said:

"I came across the company that was going to Prokhor-
ovka, of which I notified your Highness. They said that

19

290 ^^'^B PIRE AND SWORD,

they had been sent out by Bohun to prevent the peasants
from crossing the Dnieper, so I let them continue their
journey."

"You acted unwisely, but it was not your fault. It is
difficult to avoid mistakes here when treachery lurks in every
step one takes, and where the ground is burning under one's
feet," said the prince.

Suddenly he put his hand to his head:

"Almighty God!" he cried, "I remember now what Skshe-
tuski told me; that Bohun had designs on the innocence of
the young Princess Kurtsevich; now I understand why Roz-
loga was burned down! The girl must have been kidnapped.
Here, Volodiyovski, come here! Take five hundred horse-
men and set out at once for Cherkass; Bikhovyets with five
hundred Wallachs will go to Prokhorovka, by way of Zolo-
tonosha. Do not spare tMe horses; and whoever frees the
girl, shall have Yeremiovka as a life property. Now hasten,
hasten."

Then he said to the colonels, "And we gentlemen will go
to Lubni by way of Rozloga." The officers hastily left the
house of the vice-starosta and. joined their regiments. The
volunteers mounted their horses in haste; the prince's brown
stallion, that he usually rode when on the march, was led
forward. In a few minutes the regiments rode off, and pro-
ceeded like a long variegated glittering serpent along the
highway from Philipovo.

At the turnpike, a bloody sight met their eyes. On the
pickets of the fence they saw five Cossack heads, which looked
with dead hollow eyes at the passing army and, not far from
there, beyond the gate, on a green hill, the Ataman Sukha-
Ruka was still writhing on a stake. The stake had gone
through half his body but many hours of torture still re-
mained for the unfortunate man; for he might live till even-
ing before death would release him. Now, however, he was
not only alive, but his terrible eyes followed the companies
as they passed by; eyes which said: "May God punish you,
your children, and your grandchildren, unto the tenth gen-
eration for the blood, for the wounds, for the tortures; may
you perish, you and your race; may all misfortune happen
to you; may you die a lingering death, which is neither living
nor dying." And, although he was a simple Cossack, al-
though he did not die in purple, nor in a gold embroidered
cloak but in a common blue jerkin; and not in the castle

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 29 1

chamber but under the open sky, impaled on a stake; yet
the torture, the death that hovered over his head covered
him with dignity, and gave such power to his glance, such
a sea of hate in his eyes, that all understood what he would
have said, and the companies rode silently past him; and,
in the golden beams of the midday sun, he towered above
them, and gleamed like a torch on the freshly cut stake.

The prince rode by without casting a glance at him; the
priest Mukhovietski made the sign of the cross over the un-
fortunate man; they had all gone past when a youth from
the hussar regiment, without asking permission of anyone,
turned his horse towards the hill, put his pistol to the ear
of the victim and, with a shot, put an end to his torments.
All trembled at the bold act, which was in contempt of all
military discipline and, knowing the Prince's sternness, they
thought the youth was certainly lost. The prince, however,
said nothing, and acted as if he had heard nothing or was
deeply sunk in thought — in fact he rode forward in silence
and it was not until evening that he had the youth brought
before him.

The lad, half dead with fear, stood before his master and
thought that the earth was opening beneath his feet to swal-
low him. The prince asked him:

"What is your name?"

"Teleuski."

"You shot the Cossack?"

"Yes, I," stammered the youth, who was as white as chalk.

"Why did you do that?"

"I could liot see him suffer."

Instead of being angry, the prince answered:

"Oh! you will yet see their deeds, at sight of which the
angel of compassion will flee from you; but, as you have
risked your life for the sake of compassion, the treasurer in
Lubni shall pay you out ten golden crowns and I will take
you into my own service."

All were astonished that this matter should have ended
thus. Presently the news arrived that the advance guard
were coming from Zolotonosha and attention was turned in
another direction.

CHAPTER VII.

Late that evening beneath a bright sky, the forces arrived
in Rozloga. There they found Skshetu.ski sitting upon his
ilount Calvary. The knight was, as we know, overcome with
sorrow and torture of mind and when Father Mukhovyetski
had brought him back to a sense of reality, the officers took
him into their midst and began to talk to him and to comfort;
especially Longin Podbipyenta who, for a period of three
months, had been in Skshetuski's regiment, and had been a
liberal companion. He also wished to be a sharer of his
grief and tears, and immediately made a new vow on his ac-
count; that - e would fast every Tuesday until his death, if
God would in any manner, send comfort to Skshetuski.
Meanwhile the lieutenant, Skshetuski, had been brought to
the prince who had taken up his quarters in a peasant's cabin.
When he saw his favorite, he said not a word but held out his
arms towards him. Skshetuski threw himself into the out-
stretched arms and the prince pressed him to his heart, kissed
his head — and the other officers present saw tears in his eyes.

In a little while he spoke.

"I welcome you as a son, for I had begun to think that I
should never see you again. Bear your sorrow bravely, and
remember that you will have a thousand companions in mis-
fortune who will lose wives, children, parents, relations, and
friends; and your sorrow will disappear like a drop in the
ocean, in the sea of universal sorrow. When such dreadful
times are coming over the dear fatherland, no one who is a
man and carries a sword can give himself up to his own sorrow
but must fly to the aid of our common mother, and win peace
of conscience, or a glorious death and a heavenly crown, and
with it eternal blessedness."

"Amen," said chaplain Mukhovietski.

"Oh, my Prince, I would rather see her dead," sighed the
knight.

'Weep, weep, for your loss is heavy and we will weep with
you; for you are not among heathen, nor among wild Scyth-
292

WITH A SHOT, PUT AN END TO HIS TORMENTS.
mtk Fir* and Swn-d.

WITB FIRE AND ^WORD. 293

ians, nor among Tartars, but among brethren and comrades
who love you; but one thing say to yourself: To-day I weep
over my misfortune, but to-morrow I will put it by, for to-
morrow we are going to battle/ '^

"I will go with your Excellency to the end of the world,
but I cannot find comfort; for it is so sad without her that
I cannot . . . . "

And the poor fellow put his hands to his head, then he
set his teeth tightly to keep down the sobs, for a storm of
despair was tearing him again.

"Thou hast said, 'Thy will be done,"' said the priest
sternly.

"Amen, Amen. I bow to His will, but . . my sorrow . . .
cannot keep it down,*' answered the knight in disjointed sen-
tences.

One could see how he fought with himself; and his sorrow
drew tears from all eyes, and the softer hearted ones, Volodi-
yovski and Ijongin were weeping copiously from sympathy.
The latter folded his hands and repeated plaintively:

"Dear little brother, dear little brother, take courage."

"Listen," said the prince suddenly, "I have received word
that Bohun has gone from here to Lubni, for he has slaught-
ere<l the garrison in Vasilova; so do not despair; perhaps
he has not found her yet. For, why should he have gone to
Lubni?"

"By God! It must be so," cried the officers, "God will
bring you comfort."

Skslietuski opened his eyes, as though he did not under-
stand what they were saying. Suddenly a glimpse of hope
came into his heart and he threw himself full length at the
feet of the prince.

"Oh, my Prince! Life, blood!" he cried.

He could say no more; he had become so weak that Longin
had to lift him from the ground and place him on a bench,
but one saw from his expression that he had seized this thread
of hope, as a drowning man seizes a board and that his sor-
row begun to abate. The others encouraged this hope and
said to him that perhaps he would find his princess in Lubni.
Then they took him into another hut and gave him mead
and wine. The lieutenant tried to drink, but could not, for
his throat seemed closed, but his faithful friends drank in-
stead of him and, excited by the wine, they began to throw
their arms round him and kiss him, and were astonished at

294 ^'^^ ^^^^ "^^^ SWORD.

his leanness and the traces of sickness which they saw- in his
face. "You look like Piotrovin," said the fat Dzik.

"You got pretty well played out in Sich. They gave you
nothing to eat or drink in Sich."

"Tell us what happened to you?"

"I will tell you, some other time," said Skshetuski in a
weak voice. "They wounded me and I fell ill.'-*

"They wounded him!" cried Dzik.

"Wounded? An ambassador," answered Sleshiniski.

And they looked at one another, astonished at the boldness
of the Cossacks. Then they began to press each other out
of affection for Skshetuski.

"And did you see Khmyelnitski?"

"Yes."

"Leave him to us, sir," cried Migurski. '^e will make
hash of him."

With such conversation, the night passed away. In the
morning news was received that the second advance party
that had been sent to Oherkass had returned. They had evi-
dently not brought back Bohun and not caught him, but
they had returned with strange news. They brought several
people with them whom they had met on the road, who had
seen Bohun two days before. These related that the Cossack
leader was evidently in pursuit of somebody, for he had asked
every one if they had not seen a fat nobleman with a Cos-
sack boy; he was in a tremendous hurry and always rode off
again at break-neck speed. Those people had said also that
they had not noticed that Bohun had a young lady with him,
but if he had they would certainly have remarked it, for
Bohun had only a few soldiers with him.

Fresh hope as well as anxiety filled Skshetuski^s heart, for
these tales were absolutely unintelligible to him. He could not
understand, in the first place, why Bohun should have taken
the direction of Lubni; why he should have attacked the gar-
rison* in Vasilova and, then, suddenly turned in the direction
of Cherkass. That he had not taken Helena with him seemed
evident, for Kushel had met Anton's division and she was
not.among them, and the men whom they had just brought
back from Cherkass had not seen her with Bohun. So where
could she be? Where might she be hiding? Had she es-
caped, and if so in what direction? Why, instead of going to
Lubni, should she have gone to Cherkass or Zolotonosha?
And yet, Bohun's soldiers were following somebody in the

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

295

direction of Cherkass and Prokhorovka. And why had they
enquired about a nobleman and a Cossack boy? To all these
questions, the lieutenant could find no answer.

"Tell me, speak, explain to me what it all means,'* he said
to the officers, "for my brain cannot understand it/'

"I think that they must be in Lubni," said Pan Migurski.

"That is not possible," answered Lieutenant Zatsvilikhov-
ski. "If she were in Lubni, Bohun would betake himself as
quickly as possible to Chigrin to be in safety; but he would
not go to meet the hetmans, of whose defeat he can know
nothing; but. if he divided up his forces and took two lines of
pursuit I tell you it was on account of no one but the
princess."

"But he was asking for an old nobleman, and a Cossack
boy."

"It does not need any great sagacity to guess that she would
not try to escape in woman's clothing, but has put on some
disguise in order to evade all suspicion; and I think that this
Cossack boy is herself."

"As I live! As I live, that is true!" repeated the others.

"But who is the nobleman?"

"That I do not know," said the old lieutenant. "But we
can find out by asking questions. The peasants must cer-
tainly know who was here and what happened. Bring the
owner of this cabin?"

The officers sprang out of the door and presently returned,
bringing by the neck the "pidsusidka," who had been sitting
in a neighboring shed.

"Peasant," said Zatsvilikhovsld, "were you here when
Bohun and his Cossacks attacked the big house?"

The peasant began as usual to swear that he was not pres-
ent; that he had seen nothing, and knew nothing; but Zats-
vilikhovski knew with whom he was dealing and said:

"I believe, you son of a heathen, that you were hiding
under a bench when they plundered the house. You need
not tell me that. See here, here is a gold piece and there
stands a servant with a sword — choose! And, to finish up,
we will bum down the whole village, and on your account,
all the poor people will suffer."

Then the peasant began to tell all that he had seen. When
the Cossacks were revelling in the farmyard of the castle, he
had come away with the others to see what was going on.
They had heard that the old princess and the young princess

296 ^^^B FIRE AND SWORD.

had been killed, but that Nicholas had wounded the ataman
and that he was lying there as if dead. What had happened
to the young lady they could not find out, but early the fol-
lowing morning, they heard that she had made her escape
with a nobleman who had come with Bohun.

"That's it! that's it!'' said Zatsvilikhovski. "Here peasant,
take this gold crown; you see no harm will happen to you.
Did you see the nobleman? Was he from this region?"

"I saw him, sir, but he didn't come from here."

"What did he look like?"

"Stout, sir, as a stove, with a gray beard, and he cursed
like an old tramp. He was blind in one eye."

"By Heaven," cried Longin, "that must be Zagloba, and no
other. Ah!"

"Zagloba! W^ait a minute. Zagloba! That might be. He
made friends with Bohun in Chigrin, they drank and played
dice together. That might be. That is his description."

Here Zatsvilikhovski turned to the peasant.

"Did this nobleman fly with the young lady?"

"Yes, sir, so we heard."

"And do you know Bohun well?"

"Oh, very well, sir; he used to stay here a month at a time."

"And perhaps the nobleman took her away with his knowl-
edge?"

"No indeed, sir; he tied Bohun hand and foot, and wrapped
his cloak round his head; and he carried off the young lady
without any human eye seeing them. The ataman howled
like a siromakh. On the same day, he had himself put into a
litter, between two horses and tore off to Lubni, but he did
not catch her there, and he started off in another direction."

"Praised be God!" said Migurski. "Then she may be in
Lubni, for it means nothing that they followed her to Gher-
kass; for as they did not find her in one place they tried
another."

Pan Skshetuski had knelt down and was praying earnestly.

"Well, well," growled the old lieutenant, "I would not
have given Zagloba credit for so much courage as to under-
take a quarrel with Bohun. It is true he was very much at-
tached to Skshetuski, on account of that special brand of mead
from Lubni, which we drank together in Chigrin. He has
often told me about it and called him a brave knight. Well,
well, I cannot get it through my head, for he has emptied
many a goblet at Bohun's expense; but that he should have

XVITH FIRE AND SWORD,

297

bound Bohun and carried off the girl; I could not have be-
lieved him capable of such a bold deed, for I took him for a
bully and a coward. He i8 clever but a great liar and the
courage of such people consists generally in words."

^'Whatever he may be it is enough that he has delivered
the young princess from the hands of the bandits," said Vo-
lodiyovski, "and, as he is evidently crafty enough, he will
assuredly manage to escape with her in such a manner that
she shall be safe from her enemy."

"His own throat was in the balance," said Migurski.

Then they turned to Pan Skshetuski.

"Do take comfort, dear comrade."

"We will all yet be your best men."

"And get drunk at your wedding."

Zatsvilikhovski added:

"If he has fled across the Dnieper and has heard of the
defeat at Korsun he must have come back to Chernigov and,
in this case, we shall overtake him on the way."

"Here's to a happy ending of the sorrows and trials of our
friend," cried Sleshinski.

Cheers were given for Pani Skshetuski, for the young prin-
cess, for their future descendants, and for Pan Zagloba. Thus
the night passed. Early next morning, they were put under
marching orders — the forces proceeded to Lubni.

They advanced quickly, for the prince's regiment was
travelling without baggage. Skshetuski wanted to accom-
pany the Tartar regiment, but he was too weak and, besides
that, the prince kept him near him, for he wanted to hear
about his embassy to Sich. The knight had, therefore, to give
an account of his journey; of how he had been attacked at
Khortyts and dragged to Sich; but he was silent about his
dispute with Khmyelnitski, that he might not appear to praise
himself. What chiefly disturbed the prince, was the news
that old Pan Grodzitsld had no power and therefore could not
defend himself very long.

"That's an unspeakable misfortune," said he, "for that
fortress would give the rebels a great deal of trouble; for Pan
Grodzitski is a remarkable man; a real Commonwealth to the
Republic. Why did he not send to me for powder? I would
have given him some from the magazine in Lubni."

"He was evidently of the opinion that it was the place of
Hetman W. ex. officio to think about that," said Skshetuski.

"I believe that," said the prince, and was silent.

Presently he spoke again:

^gg WlfH FIRE AND SWORb.

^'The Hetman is an old and experienced warrior, but he
had too much confidence in himself and that is the reason
of his downfall. He underestimated this whole rebellion
and, when 1 hastened with troops to his assistance, he did
not seem to be anxiously expecting me. He did not wish to
share his glory with anyone. He was afraid that I should
receive the honor of the victory."

''^That is what I believe," said Skshetuski earnestly.

"He thought he could silence the Zaporojians with cudgels,
and now it has happened that God has punished his pride.
Through pride, which is intolerable to God himself, this
Commonwealth is going to destruction, and it seems no on^
is free from blame "

"The prince was right; for even he, himself, was not with-
out blame. Not very long before this, he had marched with
four thousand men to Warsaw, in consequence of a quarrel
with Pan Alexander Konyetspolski about Hadziach, and had
commanded his men, in case he was obliged to take the oath
in the Senate chamber, to dash into the chamber and slaugh-
ter everyone; and he did this from pride; for he could not
endure that he should be obliged to take an oath, and
that his word alone should not be sufficient. This occurrence
may have come back to his recollection at this moment, for
he became plunged in thought, rode on silently and gazed
at the wide steppes. Perhaps he was thinking also of the
fate of the Commonwealth, which he loved with all the
might of his earnest soul, and over which the day of wrath
and calamity appeared to be breaking.

In the afternoon, from on the high bank of the Sula, ap-
peared the cupolas of the churches of Lubni, the gleaming
roofs and the pointed towers of St. Michael's Cathedral. The
soldiers moved along slowly, and thus the time passed until
evening. The prince, on his arrival, immediately went to the
castle where, according to commands sent in advance, all were
in readiness to march. The regiments divided up for the
night and were quartered in the town. It was no easy matter,
for there was an immense crowd of people in Lubni. In con-
sequence of the reports of the spread of the peasant war on the
right bank of the Dnieper, and in consequence of the excite-
ment among the peasants, all the nobility of the other side of
the Dnieper had crowded to Lubni. Even from the farthest
districts, they came with wives, children, horses, camels, and
whole herds of cattle. The commissioners of the Prince had

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 299

also come hither, the vice-starostas, all kind of oflBcials, those
of noble rank, farmers, Jews, in a word, all, against whom the
rebels might raise their hands. It seemed as if a great fair was
being held in Lubni, for the Moscow merchants and the
Astrakhan Tartars were there on their way to the Ukraine
with their wares, and were remaining there on account of
the war. On the market-place, stood thousands of wagons, of
various build, some with wheels of woven reeds, some with
wheels without spokes, cut out of one piece of wood, Cossack
telegas and carriages belonging to the nobility. The more
distinguished guests were received in the castle, and in the
inns. The others, and the servants were put up in tents in
the neighborhood of the church; fires were burning every-
where in the streets in order to prepare food. Everywhere
was noise and a humming, as of a beehive. The most varied
costumes, the great variety of colors, the Prince's soldiers
from the different companies, Haiduks, Pajuks, Jews in black
cloaks, peasants, Armenians in their violet caps, and Tartars
in sheepskin coats. The air was filled with many languages,
cries, curses, screaming of children, barking of dogs and bel-
lowing of cattle. This crowd of people greeted the approach-
ing regiments with joy, for they saw in them the assurance of
protection and rescue. Others hastened to the castle and
screamed with all their might in honor of the prince and
princess. The strangest reports were spread among the
crowd: now it was that the prince would remain in Lubni;
now that he was going far away, to Lithuania, whither one
would be obliged to follow him; and it was even said that he
had already beaten Khmyelnitski. The prince, however,
after he had greeted his consort, and informed her that she
must leave again the following morning, looked sadly down
on that crowd of men and wagons, which would follow the
army and be balls fastened to their feet, thus interfering with
the speed of their march. He comforted himself with this
one thought, that, beyond Brahinov where the land was peace-
ful, they would all scatter, seek refuge in various directions,
and no longer interfere with the progress of his train. The
princess herself, with her court ladies and the whole house-
hold, was to be sent to Vishniovtsa, in order that the prince
might give his whole attention to the war and march into
battle without any hindrance. The preparations in the castle
had already been completed; the carriages were packed with
belongings and treasures; provisions were gathered together;

300 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

the court was ready at any moment to mount carriages and
horses. The Princess Grizelda had arranged all this before
hand^ for in misfortune she had as large a heart as the prince,
and resembled him in energy and firmness of character. This
sight comforted the prince, although his heart was torn with
the thought that he must leave his beloved home in Lubni,
where he had enjoyed so much happiness and won so much
glory. All shared this sorrow, the army, the servants, the
whole household; for all were certain that, if the prince went
to fight in distant countries, the enemy would not leave Lubni
untouched, but would take vengeance on these beloved walls
for all the injuries which they had suffered at the hands of
the prince; and so there was no lack of tears and complaints,
especially among the women, and those who had been bom
and grown up here, and who were leaving behind them the
graves of their parents.

CHAPTEB Vin.

Skshetuski, who had gone ahead in his anxiety, fairly
sprang into the castle in order to inquire for the princess
and Zagloba, but he did not find them there. They had
neither been seen nor heard of, although every one had
heard of the attack on Rozloga, and the slaughter of the gar-
rison at Vasilov. The knight shut himself up, in his quar-
ters in the armory. Along with his blighted hopes, and
sorrow, fear and anxiety took possession of him again, but he
drove them away as a wounded soldier on the field of battle
drives away the ravens and carrion crows who hover around
him to drink his warm blood and to tear his flesh. He built
upon the hope that Zagloba through craft and cunning had
perhapi made his way to Chernigov, and had hidden after
hearing the news of the defeat of the hetmans. He remem-
bered just then the old beggar whom he had met on the
way to Rozloga had said that he and his boy had been robbed
of their clothes by some devil, and only barely escaped with
his life, and had wandered about naked three days in the
reeds of the Kahamlik. Suddenly, it occurred to Skshetuski
that Zagloba had robbed the old man in order to provide a
disguise for himself and Helena. "It cannot be otherwise!"
repeated the lieutenant to himself, and he found great com-
fort in this thought; "for such a disguise would make it
much easier to escape." He trusted, also, that God, who
watches over innocence, would not forsake Helena and, in
order to entreat his mercy for her without delay, he resolved
to cleanse himself from his sins. He therefore left the ar-
mory and sought Father Mukhovietski. He found Lim
speaking words of comfort to the women and begged the
priest to confess him. Mukhovietski led him in to the chapel
and listened to the confession. When he had finished, he
gave Skshetuski a lecture, edified him, strengthened him in
the faith, and comforted and then rebuked him, saying that
it did not become a Christian to doubt God^s power, or a citi-
zen to weep more about his own misfortunes than about the

301

io^

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

misfortunefi of his fatherland, for it was exceptionally wrong
to pity oneself more than one's fellow creatures, and to
sorrow more for beloved ones than for the general nnhappi-
ness. Then he pointed out to him the misery, the degrada-
tion, and the downfall of his fatherland in such earnest and
impressive words that he roused in the heart of the knight
a great love for his country, in comparison with which, his
own misfortunes seemed so small that he could hardly per-
ceive them. The priest reproved him also for the anger and
hatred which he entertained against the Cossacks. "You
must punish them,'' he said, "as enemies of the faith, and
of the fatherland; as allies of the Heathen; but, as your own
enemies, you must forgive them, pardon them from the
depths of your heart, and not revenge yourself. And if you
do thus, I believe that God will comfort you and will gi^e
you back your beloved and send Ilis peace. . . . *'

Then he signed the cross above him, blessed him, and went
out, commanding him, as a penance, to remain until morn-
ing on his knees before the Crucified. The chapel was dark
and empty; only two candles flickered before the altar and
threw golden and red beams upon the face of the Christ,
which was made of alabaster, and looked down with an ex-
pression of the deepest sweetness and suffering. Many hours
passed, and the lieutenant remained motionless, as one dead.
But he felt, ever more clearly, that bitterness, despair, hatred,
sorrow, care, siiifering wore leaving his heart, were disappear-
ing from his breast and gliding forth like serpents, to seek
a hiding-place elsewhere in the darkness. lie felt that he
breathed more easily; that, at the same time, new light, new
power were awaking in him; that his mind grew clearer; that
content came to surround him — in one word before this altar,
at the feet of the Crucified he found all that man in such
times could find; a man of unwavering faith, without a trace
or shadow of doubt.

Tlie following morning the lieutenant was as if born again;
there was much movement, many arrangements to be made;
for it was the day of the departure from Lubni. The officers
had to mount and muster early in the moinrng and see that
men and horses were in perfect order. Then they were led
out into the field and placed in marching order. The prince
went to mass in St. Michael's Church; then he returned to
the castle and received deputations from the Greek priests,
and the citizens of Lubni and Khorol. He sat on his throne

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^03

in the hall that had been decorated by Helm, surrounded
by his principal officers; and here, the burgomaster of Lubni,
Hruby, in the name of all the towns that belonged to the
kingdom of the Dnieper took leave of him in the language
of Little Bussia. First, he begged him not to go away and
leave them as sheep without a shepherd, and the other depu-
ties clasped their hands after him: "Do not go away, do not
go!" And when the prince answered that it could not be
otherwise, they fell at his feet and expressed their sorrow at
parting from their good lord, or feigned regret; for it was
said that, in spite of the prince's popularity, many of them
sympathized with the Cossacks and Khmyelnitski. But the
better class feare<l the populace, feared that directly after
the departure of the prince with the army they would rise
in insurrection. The prince answered, that he had always
endeavored to be a father and not a master; and he conjured
them to continue in their fealty to the king and to the
Commonwealth, the common mother of them all, beneath
whose wings they were preserved from harm, lived in peace,
attained prosperity, and bore no foreign yoke, which, other-
wise, their neighbors would without difficulty place on their
necks. With similar words he took leave of the Greek priests,
and then came the hour of departure. Then the whole castle
was filled with lamentations and tears, and the noise of weep-
ing. The young ladies of the court fainted, Panna Anna
Borzobohata was restored with difficulty. The princess,
alone, stepped with tearless eyes into her carriage, with her
head held high; for the proud lady was ashamed to show her
sorrow before the people. Round about the castle stood
crowds of people, all the bells of Lubni were ringing, the
priests held their crosses above the departing ones, the long
train of wagons, carriages, and baggage-wagons could hardly
get through the gates of the castle.

Finally, the prince mounted his horse. The flags of
the regiment saluted him; upon the ramparts, shots were
fired; the lamentations, the noise of the mob and loud
shouts blended with the ringing of bells, with booming of
cannon, with the sounds of trumpets and kettle-drums. The
march began.

At the head of the column were two Tartar regiments,
under Rostvorovski and Vyershul; then Pan Wurtzel's ar-
tillery, and Major Makhnitski's infantry; then followed the
princess with all the ladies of her court and the whole hous^

304 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD,

hold, in carriages; then the baggage wagons; then the Wal-
lachian squadron under Bikhovyets and, finally, the main
body of the army. The regiments of heavy cavalry, the cuir-
assiers, the hussars; and the train ended with the dragoons
and the Semenovs.

Behind the army there came, like a serpent, an endless
line of many colored carriages which carried the families of
all those noblemen who did not wish to remain in the trans-
Dnieper after the departure of the prince. The bugles
sounded, but all hearts were oppressed; all thought at the
sight of those walls, "Beloved home shall I ever see you again
in this life? It is easy to set out, but difficult to return; and
does not each one of us leave a part of his soul in this place,
and a sweet remembrance?" So, for the last time, all eyes
were turned upon the castle, upon the city, on the towers of
its churches, on the cupola of the cathedral, upon the roofs
of the houses. Each one knew what he was leaving behind,
and knew not what was awaiting him yonder, in the blue
distance towards which they were marching.

Sadness filled all hearts. The town called to the depart-
ing ones with the voices of all its bells as though it were
conjuring them not to leave it, not to expose it to danger, to
an unhappy fate in the future; it called after them as though,
through the mournful sound of its bells, it would wish them
farewell and impress itself on their memory. . . .

And 80, although the train continued to advance, all heads
turned back to the town and in all faces one read the ques-
tion :

"Is it for the last time?"

So it was; of this whole army, of these thousands who, at
this moment were marching forth with Prince Vishnyovyet-
ski, not one, not even he, himself, should ever again see
this town, or this land.

The trumpets sounded; the army moved slowly but steadily
forward, and after some time, the town disappeared from
their sight in a bluish mist. The houses and roofs blended
in a confused mass, which gleamed in the sunlight. The
prince put spurs to his horse and rode forward to a high
hill, and stood there immovable, looking far into the distance.
Was not this town which now gleamed in the sunlight, and
this whole country which he saw from this eminence, the
work of his ancestors, and of himself. It was the Vishnyo-
vyetski's who had transformed this once barren, dismal

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 305

stretch of land into a habitable country; who had opened
it up to civilized life; one might say, had created the Dnieper
country out of nothing. And the prince himself had done
the greater part of this work; he had built those churches,
whose towers gleamed in blue and gold above the town; he
had built this town, had connected it with the Ukraine by
good wagon roads; he had cut down forests, drained swamps,
built castles, laid out villages and settlements, attracted resi-
dents thither, destroyed the banditti, protected the people
from Tartar incursions, so that the agriculturist and mer-
chant might obtain the quiet they so much desired. He
had introduced the authority of law and justice; it was
through him that it had developed and flourished; it was
his heart and his soul — now he must leave it all behind him.
And not only on account of this immense property, which
was equal in extent to all the German principalities, did the
prince mourn! No, he loved this work of his own hands;
he knew that if he should fail, all would miss it. The work
of whole years would be destroyed with one blow; all his
labor would be in vain; for the wild hordes would break
their fetters and would lay villages and towns in ashes. The
Tartar would again water his horses in these rivers; the prim-
itive forest would arise from the ruins and, if God should
permit him to return, he would have to begin everything all
over again — and who knows if his strength would hold out;
if he would yet have time, and still retain the confidence in
himself which had helped him in former years. It was here
that those years had been passed which for him had been a
glory in the sight of men; a service to God. Now all this
service and glory would vanish like smoke.

Two heavy tears rolled down his cheeks.

They were the last tears he would shed, for from hence-
forth only lightning would flash from those eyes. The
prince's horse stretched forward his neck and neighed; and
his neighing was soon answered by the other horses of the
company. These sounds awakened the prince from his
reverie and filled him new courage. Had he not six thousand
faithful warriors, six thousand swords while the world stood
before him, and which the Commonwealth was awaiting as
her sole salvation. The idyll of the Trans-Dnieper is a thing
of the past, but yonder, where cannons thunder, where vill-
ages and towns are in flames where are heard in the night
the neighing of the Tartar horses and the Cossack yells,

20

3o6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

mingled with the sighings of captives and the sighing of
men, and women, and children; there the field of action
lies open; there the glory of the saviour and father of the
country is to be attained . . . Who will stretch out their
hands for this laurel wreath? Who will save the deposed,
humbled, dying Commonwealth, which is now trodden under
the feet of the peasants, if not he — the prince; if not his
army, whose weapons glitter and gleam in the sunlight be-
low? ...

The train was passing by the little hill on which the prince
was standing and at the sight of the prince who, with his
baton in his hand, stood on its summit, beneath an uplifted
crucifix, one cry burst from the soldiers.

"Long live the prince! Long live our leader and Hetman,
Yeremy Vishnyovyetski!" And hundreds of flags were
lowered to his feet; the hussars fired off their carbines; the
kettle drums rolled in answer to the shouts.

The prince drew his sword and raising it towards heaven
to which he also raised his eyes, said,

"I, Yeremy Vishnyovyetski, Voyevoda of Russia, prince
of Lubni and Vishniovtsa, swears to thee, Holy Trinity, and
the Holy Mother of God, that as long as strength and life
are in me, I will not let this gword rest which I am now rais-
ing against the knaves who have insulted our country, until
I have avenged the ignominy, have cast the enemy at the
feet of the Commonwealth; have brought peace to the
Ukraine, and smothered in blood the rebellion of the pea-
sants. And as I am making this vow from a pure heart, so
help help me, God, Amen."

He spoke and stood there a moment longer, his eyes raised
to Heaven; then he slowly rode down the hill and joined
the company. The army came that night to Bazan, the
village of the Countess Krinitska who received the prince,
kneeling at her door, for the peasants had already besieged
her in her castle and she had defended herself with the help
of the servants who had remained faithful to her; when the
sudden arrival of the prince saved her and her nineteen
children, among whom were fourteen girls. The prince made
the rebels prisoners, sent Poniatovski, the adjutant of the
Cossack company, to Kanyov; and the same night he brought
back five Zaporojians from the Vasyntynski's kurzen. They
had all taken part in the fight at Korsun and, as they were
now threatened with the rack, they gave the prince exact

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

307

details of the occurrence. They assured him also that
Khmyelnitski was still in Korsun but that Tukhay Bey, with
the prisoners, the booty, and the two hetmans, had gone to
Chigrin whence he expected to go to the Crimea. They had
also heard that Khmyelnitski had begged them very hard
not to leave the Zaporojian army, but to march against the
prince. The murza, however, would not -agree to it and said
that after the destruction of the armies and the hetmans the
Cossacks might look out for themselves; but he was not
going to stay any longer, for the prisoners would die. When
they were asked about Khmyelnitski's fighting strength, they
gave it at two hundred thousand fighting men, the greater
part of them unreliable; and only fifty thousand good fight-
ing troops, that is Zaporojians and Cossacks from the estates
or from the towns, who had joined the rebellion.

On hearing this news, the prince's courage rose, for he
hoped when he reached the other side of the Dnieper to
increase his forces considerably by fugitives from the royal
army and soldiers from the estates.

The following morning he continued his journey.

Beyond Pereyaslav the army came to gigantic, gloomy
forests whicfh stretched along the shore of the river, the
Trubiej, as far as Kozielts and even to Chernigov. It was
towards the end of May. The heat was frightful. In the
forests, where they expected it would be a little cooler, it
was so oppressive that men and horses could hardly stand.
The cattle that they took with them fell down or ran where-
ever there was any water as if they were mad, overturned the
wagons and created a great deal of confusion. Horses be-
gan to fall down, especially in the heavy cavalry; the nights
were unbearable on account of the enormous quantity of in-
sects and the oppressively strong smell of the pine gum
which, on account of the heat, exuded from the trees in
larger quantities than usual.

Thus four days passed. On the fifth day, the heat became
unnatural. By nightfall, the horses began to snort, and the
cattle to bellow piteously, as though they saw some danger
ahead which the men could not yet perceive.

"They smell blood," was whispered about in the baggage-
wagons, among the swarms of fugitive noble families.

"The Cossacks are following us, there will be a battle."

At these words, the women began to scream piteously; the
noise reached the servants; confusion and terror ensued. The

3o8 W^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD,

wagons tried to get ahead of each other or left the highway
and drove blindly into the forests where they got fixed be-
tween the trees.

But the prince sent some men over and order was soon
restored. Scouts were sent out in all directions to discover
whether danger really threatened. Skshetuski, who had
gone with the Wallachs, as a volunteer, was the first to re-
turn in the morning, and immediately went to the prince.

"Well, how do things stand?" asked Yeremy.

"My Prince, the forests are in flames.

"Were they set on fire?"

"Yes, I caught some men who say that Khymelnitski sent
out some volunteers to follow you and to set fire to the
woods when the wind was favorable.

"He wants to burn us alive, without a battle! Bring the
men here."

They were at once brought forward, three herders, wild,
stupid, terrified men who acknowledged at once that they
had been commanded to set fire to the forests. They con-
fessed also that an army was following the prince and was
going by another road to Chernigov nearer the Dnieper.

Meanwhile other scouts came back and all brought the
same news.

"The woods are on fire!"

But the prince did not seem to be uneasy on that account.

"That is the way of the Heathen," he said, "but tliat does
not matter. The fire will not cross the rivers that fiow into
the Trubiej."

In fact so many little rivers flowed into the Trubiej, along
which the army was marching towards the north, forming
here and there broad marshes that there was no danger that
the fire would cross them; it would be necessary to set fire
afresh to the woods beyond each river.

The scouts soon gave notice that this was being done.
They daily brought in incendiaries, who were strung up on
pines along the way.

The fire spread rapidly along the rivers to the east and
west, but not towards the north. At night a red glow illu-
mined the sky. The woman sang hymns from morning till
night. The terrified wild animals fled out of the burning
forest upon the road and joined themselves to the train,
mingling with the herds of domestic cattle. The wind blew
the smoke so that the whole horizon was covered. The army

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD, 309

and the wagons moved alonig in a thick cloud that no eye
could pierce. One could hardly breathe. The smoke blinded
all eyes and the wind drove it ever in denser masses. The
sunlight could hardly penetrate these clouds of smoke, and
in the night it was lighter than in the day because the fires
lighted up the scene. The forests seemed to be intenninable.

Through these burning woods and clouds of smoke, Yere-
my led his army; and then came the news that the enemy was
marching on the other side of Trubiej but it was not known
how great a force ii was — Vyershurs Tartars maintained
firmly that they were still a long way off.

One night, Captain Sukhodolsk from Bodenek came to
the camp from the other side of Desna. He had formerly
been in the prince's service and, only a few years before, had
moved into the country. He too had fled from the peasants
but he brought tidings which they had not yet heard. A
great confusion arose when, on the prince's asking for news,
he answered:

"It is a bad lookout, my Prince! You have heard of the
defeat of the hetmans and also of the death of the King?"

The Prince, who was sitting upon a little camp stool before
his tent, sprang up in terror.

"The King is dead?"

"His Gracious Majesty breathed his last in Meteth a week
before the defeat at Korsun," said Sukhodolsk.

"God in his mercy has not allowed him to live to see this
day," answered the prince, then he put both hands to his
head and continued: "Terrible times have come to this re-
public! Elections and interregnum; discords and plotting
by foes on the outside; now when the whole people should be
blended into a single sword held by one hand. God has
turned his face away from us, and in his anger, will punish
us for our sins. King Vladislav, alone could extinguish the
torch of this war, for the Cossacks loved him with an extra-
ordinary love and, besides this, he was a valiant warrior."

At this moment several officers stepped up to the prince,
among them Zatsvilikhovski, Skshetuski, Baranovski, Wurt-
zel, Maknitski and Polanovski and the prince said:

"Gentlemen, the king is dead!"

As at the word of command, all heads were uncovered, all
faces became solemn. This unexpected news made everyone
speechless. Tt was not for some moments that the universal
sorrow found expression.

3IO WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

"Grant him, Lord, Thy everlasting peace," said the prince.

"And may perpetual light shine upon him!"

Presently Father Mukhovietski chanted the Dies-Irae and,
surrounded by the increasing clouds of smoke in the forests
an unspeakable depression filled all hearts and souls.

It seemed to all as if they were entirely alone in the world
in presence of the threatening enemy . . . and had no one
left but their prince.

And all eyes turned to him, and a new bond of affection
was riveted between him and his army.

The same evening the prince said to Zatsvilikhovski so that
every on-e could hear him: "We need a warlike king, there-
fore if God permits us to make a choice, may we have Prince
Charles, who has a more warlike spirit than Casimir."

"Vivat, Carolus rex," cried the officers.

^^ivat," repeated the hussars, and with them, the whole
army.

And the Voyevoda certainly did not dream that this shout
which sounded in the Trans-Dnieper should penetrate the
desert forests of Chernigov, even to Warsaw, and should take
from his hands the baton of the Chief Hetman of the Crown.

CHAPTER IX.

After nine days' march, of which Mashkyevich becani6
the Xenophon, and a three days' passage of the Desna the
army finally arrived at Chernigov. Skshetuski went ahead
with the Wallachs. The prince had purposely commanded
him to ride forward and garrison the town, in order that he
might be able to get the earliest information about the prin-
cess and Zagloba. But here, as in Lubni, no one either in the
town or the castle had heard anything about them. They
had vanished like a stone in the water, and the knight him-
self did not know what to think about it. Where could they
have sought refuge? Surely not in Moscow nor in the Crimea
nor in Sich! There remained only one conclusion, that they
might have crossed the Dnieper and, in this case, they would
find themselves right in the midst of the insurrection. There
w-ere slaughter, incendiary fires, swarms of drunken blacks,
Zaporojians, and Tartars, against which Helena's disguise
would prove no protection; for the Heathen eagerly took boys
captive, on account of the high price that they could obtain
for them in the markets of Stambul. The dreadful suspicion
even occurred to Skshetuski, that Zagloba might have in-
tentionally led her to that side of the river in order to sell her
to Tukhay Bey, who would reward him more handsomely
than Bohun — and this thought almost drove him mad. But
Pan Longin Podbipyenta calmed him effectually in this re-
gard. He had known Zagloba longer than Skshetuski had,

"Dear little brother, Lieutenant,^' said he, "put that idea
out of your head. The nobleman certainly has not done
that. At the Kurtseviches' house, there were treasures
enough that Bohun would willingly have given him if he
wished to ruin the girl. He would not need to place his life
in jeopardy, and could gain riches."

"Quite true," said the lieutenant, 'T)ut why did he fly
across the Dnieper, and not to Lubni or Chernigov."

"Calm yourself, my dear little fellow, I know this Zagloba.
He has drunk with me and is my debtor. Money is no con-

311

312 WITH FIRE AyD SWORD,

sideration with him, either his own or anyone's else. When
he has any of his own, he squanders it — other people's money
he does not pay back; but, that he could commit such a deed,
I will never believe."

"He is a trifling man," said Skshetuski.

"Yes, trifling he may be, and a scamp who likes to lead
others upon smooth ice but manages to extricate himself from
all difficulties. But, as the priest with prophetic spirit has
foretold that Goi will bring her back to you, it will come to
pass; for it is only just that every honest love should be re-
warded, and with this assurance I comfort you, as I comfort
myself."

Here Longin began to sigh heavily and added, after a
pause:

"Let us inquire about them in the castle, perhaps they have
passed through here."

They inquired everywhere, but in vain; nowhere could they
find even a trace that the fugitives had passea through the
town. The castle was full of noblemen with their wives and
children, whom they had shut up here to protect them from
the Cossacks. The prince advised them to go with him and
warned them that the Cossacks were following his tracks.
They had not dared to attack the army, but it was most prob-
able that after the departure of the prince they would fall
upon the town and castle. The nobility in the castle were
however strangely blinded.

"Here, behind the forests, we are certainly safe," they
answered the prince, "no one will come to us here."

"Did not I come through these forests?" said the prince.

"Your Highness came through, certainly, but the people
cannot come through, Ha! not forests like these!"

And so they would not accompany the prince but remained,
in their blindness, for which they paid dearly later on; for
immediately after the prince had left, the Cossacks arrived.
The castle was defended bravely for throe weeks. Then it
fell and all who were in it were slain to the last man. The
Cossacks committed frightful cruelties; tore the children to
pieces: roasted the women at slow fire — and no one took ven-
^ance on them for these deeds.

The prince, meanwhile, had reached Tjcbetch on the
Dnieper, and let his army rest there, while he and his house-
hold and the baggage-wagons proceeded to Brahina, that lay
in the midst of forests and impassable swamps. A week later,

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 313

the army crossed the river. Then they went to Babits, near
Mozyr and there, on Corpus Ohristi Day, the hour of separ-
ation came; for the princess with her household was to go to
her aunt the Voyevodina of Willna at Turova, while the
prince with his army was to go forth to battle in the Ukraine.

At the last parting meal, the prince and the princess, the
court ladies and the highest nobility were assembled; but in
the ranks of the young court ladies and the cavaliers one
missed the usual gaiety; for many a soldier's heart bled at
the thought that from this hour he would be obliged to leave
his beloved, for whom he would willingly have lived, fought,
and died. Many blue and black eyes among the fair girls
wept tears of sorrow that a soldier lover must march amid
bullets and swords, amid Cossacks and wild Tartars . . . and
perhaps never return.

Therefore, when the prince gave the word to take leave of
his consort and of the household, the young ladies wailed
bitterly, one and all like kittens. The officers, however, with
a show of courage, rose from their scats, grasped their swords
and cried together:

"We will conquer and come back."

"May God help you," answered the princess.

Thereupon arose a cheer that made walls and windows
rattle.

"Long live the princess! Long live our mother and bene-
factress!"

"Long may she live! Long may she live!"

The soldiers loved her on account of her kindness to the
officers, on account of her great heart, her generosity and her
gentleness, and on account of her care for their families.

Prince Yeremy loved her above everything; for these two
natures were made for one another, and resembled one another
like two goblets moulded of gold and iron. Each officer
stepped up to her, knelt before her chair with his goblet in
his hand, and she took each head between her hands and
spoke kind words to each separately. To Skshetuski she said:

"Many a knight will now receive a scapulary or a ribbon as
a parting gift; and, as she from whom you earnestly desire a
remembrance is not here, take one from me as from your
mother."

She took off a golden cross of Turkish workmanship and
hung it round the knight's neck, and he kissed her hands
respectfully. The prince was evidently much pleased at this

314 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

for he had latterly grown very fond of Skshetuski, because
he had maintained the dignity of the prince during the em-
bassy to Sich and had refused to take letters from Khmyel-
nitski. They arose from the table, and the young ladies, who
had quickly caught up the princess's remarks and considered
them as a pennission, began ut once to take off, one, a scapula,
another a scarf, another a little cross; and when the knights
saw this, they stepped up, each to his own favorite, even if
not his betrothed; yet to the one whom he liked best; Ponio-
voski to Countess Jytynska, Bikhovyets to Countess Bohvi-
ynianke who he had fallen in love with lately, Rostvorovski to
Zuckovna, the red-haired Vyerehul to Skopaka, Makhnitski,
who was no longer young, to Zavieyska. Anusia Borzoba-
hata, only, although sihe was the handsomest of all, stood
neglected and alone at the window. Her face was covered
with blushes; her little eyes looked down under her drooping
lashes, half angry, half entreating that they might not affront
her thus. Then the traitor Volodiyovski approached her
and said:

"I should also like, Panna Anusia, to beg you for a sou-
venir; but I hesitated to express my wish, because I thought
that there would be such a crowd around you that I should
not be able to approach you."

Anusia's cheeks burned still hotter, but she answered with-
out a moment's hesitation:

^TTou want a souvenir from other hands than mine, but you
will not get it, for if it is not too crowded for you yonder, it
is too high."

The shot was well aimed and found its mark, for, in the
first place it contained an allusion to the short stature of the
knight, and, secondly, to his love for Princess Barbara
Zbaraska. Pan Volodiovsky had first fallen in love with the
older sister, Anna, and, when she became engaged, he had
choked down his sorrow and silently given his heart to Bar-
bara, believing that no one had remarked this transfer of
affection. Consequently, w^hen he heard Anusia's words,
although at other times he was ready with his words as with
his sword, and was a knight without fear and without re-
proach, he became so confused that he could not answer, and
he only stuttered:

"And you, too, lady, are aiming very high, just as high as
the head of Pan Podbipyenta."

"He truly surpasses you in the sword as in politeness/'

WITH PIRE AND SWORD. 315

answered the cool-headed girl, "I thank you that you re-
minded me of him. That was right!"

Then she turned to the Lithuanian:

"Come nearer, sir; I also want my knight and I do not
know that I could hang this ^oarf across a more manly
breast."

Pan Podbipyenta opened his eyes as if he did not dare
believe what he had heard; then he fell on his knees so that
the floor creaked.

"My benefactress, my benefactress!"

Anna threw her scarf around him and her little hand dis-
appeared completely beneath the fair moustache of Pan
Longin, and only a smack and a murmur were audible.

Volodiyovski hearing the sound said to Lieutenant Mi-
gurski:

"One would swear that the bear had frightened away the
bees and was eating the honey."

Then he went off in a rage, for he felt the sting of her re-
marks, for, in his time, he had also loved Anna.

The prince had already taken leave of the princess, and an
hour later the household was on its way to Torova; the prince
advancing to Pripets. During the night, at the crossing of
the river while they were building the floats for the cannon
and the hussars were overseeing the work, Longin said to
Skshetuski :

"That means misfortune, littk brother."

"What has happened?" asked the lieutenant.

"News from the Ukraine."

"What?"

"Zaporojians have told me that Tukhay Bey has gone with
the hordes to th«e Crimea."

"Well, what does that matter, you will not cry about that?"

"Why, little brother, you told me yourself — ^and you were

right, were you not, that I could not count Cossack heads and

if the Tartars have gone away, where shall I get my three

. heathen heads, where shall I look for them? Ah! And I

need them so much ?"

Skshetuski, although he was very sad, smiled and answered:

^*I can guess why you are so anxious, for I saw to-day that
some one had chosen you for her knight."

Thereupon Longin folded his hands.

"Yes, why should I hide it any longer? I am in love, little
brother, I am in love. Ah! what a misfortune it is."

"Do not worry, I do not believe that Tukhay Bey has gone

3X6 ^^'^^ ^^^^ ^^^ BWORD.

away, and, besides, you will come across more Heathenfl than
there are mosqmtoes here above our heads."

Eegular clouds of mosquitoes swarmed above the horses and
men, for the army was in the countr}^ of impassable morasses,
of marshy forests, swampy meadows, rivers, rivulets, and
brooks; in that dreary, uninhabited land that formed an im-
penetrable wilderness, of whose inhabitants one sang in those
times:

" The Lord of Have Nothine Gare with his little daughter,
Two kegs of axle-pitch ana a mushroom wreath,
A pot of eels: And a piece of swamp besides.

On these swamps grew not only mushrooms, but also, in
spite of the song, great lordly fortunes. But the prince's
soldiers who for the most part had been born and had grown
up in the high, dry steppes on the other side of the Dnieper,
could hardly believe their eyes, for although there one could
find marshes and forests in places, here the whole country
seemed to be one swamp. The night was bright and clear, ■
and as far as the eye could reach, scarcely six feet of dry earth
was to be seen beneath the moonlight. Little moimds only
raised their heads above the water. The forests seemed to
grow out of the waves; water bespattered the feet of the
horses; water was squeezed out of the ground by the wheels
of the cannon. Wurtzel was in despair.

"A remarkable march,'' he said. "At Chernigov we were
threatened with fire; here we are drowning in water."

The earth, in fact, offered no support to the feet. It
seemed to give and tremble as if it would open and swallow
up those who moved on ' . surface. In four da^-s, the army
had reached Pripets and from that out they crossed almost
daily rivulets and brooks that intersected the swampy ground,
and nowhere was a bridge to be found. The whole army had
to be transported in boats and barges. In a few dayg fogs
and torrents of rain began. The soldiers gathered together
their last strength to try and get out of this accursed country
and the prince urged and hurried them on. He had whole
woods chopped down and roads made from the round trunks
of trees; he himself rode ahead of the whole train. When
the soldiers saw that he did not spare his own strength, that
from morning until late at night he sat upon his horse, led
the army, led the march, and directed everything himself,
they dared not murmur; although the labor was almost be-
yond their strength. To remain from morning till late at

»»MY BENEFACTRESS, MY BENEFACTRESS!"

IVtth Fire and Sword.

W/TH FTRE AND SWORD.

317

night in the swamp and dampness was the common fate of all.
The horses' hoofs began to soften and peel off; many sank
down before the cannons they were drawing, so that the foot
soldiers and Volodiyovski's dragoons had to drag the cannon.
The aristocratic regiments, such as Skshetuski's hussars, Zats-
vilikhovski's company and the Cuira-ssiers seized axes in order
to build roads. This was a famous march, amid cold, water
and deprivations; in which the will of the leader and the
zeal of th-e soldiers overcame all obstacles. No one had
hitherto dared to march along this road with an army in the
spring of the year, when all rivers overflowed their banks.
Fortunately, the march was not onoe interrupted by an at-
tack. The people in this region were quiet and peaceful and
had no idea of rebelling and even, later on, when they had
been aroused by the Cossacks and excited by their example,
they would not join their regiments. Even now they looked
with dreamy eyes at the passing army of knights, who arose
as if bv magic from the woods and marshes, and glided by
like shadows. They furnished guides and performed in
silence all that was demanded of them.

When the prinoe saw this, he restrained with a firm hand
any breach of order among the soldiery, so that the army
sliould not have behind them sighs, curses, and complaints;
and when, after the army had passed through some smoky
village, a report was spread that Prince Yeremy had gone by
the people would shake their heads and say softly to one
another:

"He is good!"

Finally, after twenty days of superhuman exertion and
fatigues, the prince's army reached the rebel country.
"Yeremy is coming! Yeremy is coming!" resounded through
the whole Ukraine and far away beyond the Wild Lands, to
Chigrin and Yagorlik, "Yeremy is coming!" resounded
through towns, villages, hamlets and farms, and, at this news,
the scythes, hay-forks and knives fell from the hands of the
peasants; faces grew pale, undisciplined bands crept away at
night towards the south, like packs of wolves at the sound of
the huntsman's horn. The Tartar who was plundering on
the highway, sprang from his horse and laid his ear close to
the ground to listen. In the castles and smalled fortified
towns that had not yet been taken, the bells were rung and
the Te Deum Laudamus sung.

And the terrible lion lay down on the threshold of a re-
bellious land and rested. He was gathering strength.

CHAPTER X.

Khmyelnitski meanwhile remained for some time in Kor-
8un; then he went back to Byalocerk and took up his
residence there. The horde struck camp on the other side of
the river and spread their forces out over the Voyevoda of
Kiev. Longin Podbipyenta had worried himself unneces-
sarily about the lack of Tari:ar heads, and Skshetuski had
rightly prophesied that the Zaporojians, whom Poniatovski
had taken near Kaniov, had spread a false repori;. Tukhay
Bey had not left. He had not even gone to Chigrin. Yet,
from all sides fresh Tartars arrived. The petty princes, of
Azov and Astrakhan, who had never before been in Poland
had come with four thousand warriors, twelve thousand of
the Nohayski horde, twenty thousand from Byalogrod and
Budziak, all of them in former times sworn enemies of the
Zaporojians and of the Cossacks; to-day their brothers and
their allies in a war against Christianity. Finally, the Khan
Islam Girey himself came with twelve thousand from Perckop.
The whole Ukraine suffered from these hordes; not only the
nobility, but all the people of Russia whose villages they
burned, and whom they had robbed of wealth and property.
Even the peasants, themselves, with wives and children, were
led into captivity. In these times of violence, arson and
bloodshed, there was only one salvation for the peasant; to
flee into Khmyelnitski's camp. There he was transformed
from the victim to the oppressor and destroyed his own land,
but he was at least sure of his life. Unhappy land! When
the insurrection broke out, Nicholas Pototski first devastated
it and punished it; then the Zaporojians and the Tartars, who,
it was said, had come to save it. And now, Yeremy Vishnyov-
yetski hung threateningly over it.

Therefore, all who could fled into Khmyelnitski's camp;
even the nobility, as there seemed no other way of escape.
Thanks to this circumstance, Khmyelnitski's forces increased
mightily and, if he did not penetrate into the heart of the
Commonwealth; if he remained some time in Byalocerk, it
318

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

31$

was because he wished to bring these wild unbridled elements
into some kind of order.

In his iron hands, they were soon transformed into a war-
like force. Squadrons of tried Zaporojians were ready; the
"blacks" were divided into regiments; Colonels chosen from
among the former atamans; certain divisions were sent out to
attack the castle, in order to train them for war. They were
by nature a warlike people, apt at war as were no other people,
used to weapons, acquainted with fire and with the bloody
front of battle, through the invasions of the Tartars.

Two colonels, Uandja and Ostap, advanced on Nestervar.
They captured it and killed the inhabitants, Jews and nobles,
to the last man. They killed Prince Chetvertinski's own
miller on the threshold of the gate of the castle, cutting his
head off. The princess became Ostap's personal slave. Others
moved in a different direction and success accompanied their
arms, and fear had deprived the Poles of courage — fear "to
which this people were unaccustomed," which took their
weapons from their hands and paralyzed their strength.

His oflBcers often said to Khmyelnitski:

"Why do you not march towards Warsaw, instead of stay-
ing here, consulting the fortune-tellers, filling yourself with
brandy and allowing the Poles time to recover and gather their
forces."

Frequently during the night, the drunken crowd would
shout and besiege Khmyelnitski's quarters and demand that
he should lead them against the Poles. Khmyelnitski had
fanned the flame of the rebellion, had lent it enormous
strength; but now he began to recognize that that strength
was pushing him forward into an unknown future. There-
fore he often gazed with clouded eyes into that future and
sought to penetrate its secret and his heart was disturbed.

As has already been said, he, alone, of all the commanders
and atamans knew what an immense strength lay hidden in
the apparent torpor of the Commonwealth. He had called
the rebellion to life; he had conquered at the Zolta Woda, he
had conquered at Korsun, he had destroyed the royal forces;
but what now?

He therefore summoned all his officers to a coimcil; let his
blood-shot eyes, beneath which all trembled, wander round
the circle, and gloomily put this question to them:

"What's the next thing ? What do you want to do?" To
go to Warsaw? Then Prince Vishnyovyetski will come here;

j^O ^^^^ ^'^^^ ^^^'^ SWORD.

strike down your wives and children like lightning, and leave
behind him nothing but earth and water. Then he will fol-
low us to Warsaw with the whole might of the nobility, who
will uaite with him, and thus, between two fires, we shall
find our death; if not in battle, on stakes. . . . We cannot
rely on the friendship of the Tartars; to-day they are with us;
to-morrow they may turn against us and return to the Crimea,
or sell us to the lords.

"So what is to be done? Speak! March against Vishnyov-
yetski. Then he will detain us and all the Tartar hordes and,
during this time, the forces will be organized and fly to help
him from the heart of the Commonwealth. Choose! . . . ^'

The terrified colonels were silent and Khmyelnitski con-
tinued:

"Why have you lost your courage? Why do you no longer
insist on going to Warsaw? If you do not know what to do,
leave it to me and, with God's help, I will save my life and
your own, and provide satisfaction for the Zaporojian army
and for all the Cossacks."

There remained only one way open. To enter into nego-
tiations. Khmyelnitski knew very well how much might
be done with the Commonwealth in this manner. He calcu-
lated that the Diet would rather agree to pay a considerable
indemnity than to levy taxes for a war which would be long
and troublesome. He knew, finally, that there was a powerful
party in Warsaw, at the head of which stood the king him-
self— the news of his death had not yet reached Khmyel-
nitski— the chancellor and many men, who would willingly
do anything to oppose the pow^r of the gigantic estates in the
Ukraine, who would form an alliance with the Cossacks to
strengthen the hands of the king, conclude peace with them
forever more and lead the assembled thousands to a war
against the foreigner. Under such circumstances Khmyel-
nitski might expect a very high position for himself, might
receive the hetman's staff from the hands of the King and
might demand priceless concessions for the Cossacks. That
was why he remained in Byalocerk. He was arming, sending
manifestos out in all directions; was gathering the people
together; forming armies, and getting possession of the
castles, for he knew that they would only negotiate with one
who was powerful ; but he did not penetrate into the heart of
the Commonwealth.

Oh, if he could only, by means of negotiations, conclude

WITH FIRB AND SWOHD. j^i

a peace! Then the sword would be wrenched from Vishnyov-
yetski's hand, or, if the prince would not lay down his sword,
it would not be Khmyelnitski but he, who would be the rebel;
who would be carrying on war, contrary to the will of the king
and the Diet.

Then he would march against Vishnyovyetski, but as an
envoy of the King and of the Commonwealth; and then the
last hour would have come, not for the prince alone but for
all the kinglets of the Ukraine with their possessions and
their estates.

These were the thoughts of the Zaporojian ataman. This
was the structure he had erected, but, upon the pillars that
held up the edifice, care, doubt, fear often rested — like birds
of ill-omen and croaked forebodingly of evil.

Would the party of peace in Warsaw be quite strong
enough? Would it enter into negotiations with him. What
would the Diet and the Senate say? Would they stop their
ears to the groans and cries for help from the Ukraine?
Would they close their eyes to the flames?

Would not the influence of those lords who owned the im-
mense estates be greater especially as the maintenance of these
estates would now be called in question ? And was this Com-
monwealth already so terrorized that she would forgive him
his alliance with the Tartars?

On the other hand, Khmyelnitski 's soul was filled with
doubt, lest the rebellion might have attained too mighty pro-
portions.

Would the wild masses ever be brought within the
bounds of order? He, Khmyelnitski, might conclude a peace;
but the populace in his name would continue their murder
and rapine, or perhaps take vengeance on his own head for
their blasted hopes. It was truly a swollen torrent, a sea, a
hurricane! Terrible situation! If the insurrection were
weaker, they would treat it as of little moment and would not
negotiate; but, as it was powerful, the negotiations might be
thwarted by the force of circumstances.

What would happen then?

When such thoughts oppressed the hetman's mind, he
shut himself up in his room and drank for days and nights.
Then the report would spread among the colonels and
'^blacks," "Khmyelnitski is drinking,'^ and, following his ex-
ample, they all drank. They gave themselves over to de-
bauchery. The prisoners were murdered, they fought one

21

3^2 tr/a^jET mRB and sword.

another and plundered the people. The Day of Judgment
appeared to have come; the reign of terror and monstrosity.
Byalocerk was transformed into a living Hell.

One day, the nobleman Vyhovski called to see the drunken
hetman; he had been taken prisoner at Korsun and had been
made the hetman's secretary. He stepped into the room and,
without ceremony, began to shake the drunken man; took him
by his arms, sat him down on a bench, and shook him again.

"What the devil is it?" asked Khmyelnitski.

"Get up hetman, come to yourself," answered Vyhovski.
"An envoy has come.''

Khmyelnitski sprang to his feet and recovered himself at
once.

"Hey!" he cried to the Cossack boy who was sitting on the
threshold, "my cap, and my baton."

Then he said to Vyhovski:

"Who has come? From whom?"

"The priest, Patronius Lasko of Hushchy, from the Voye-
voda of Bratslav."

"From Pan Kisiel?"

"The same!"

"Praise be to the Father and the Son, praise be to the
Holy Ghost and the Holy Virgin," he said crossing himself.
And his face became brighter and more cheerful.

They wanted to open negotiations with him.

But the same day came reports that contradicted completely
the messages of peace from Pan Kisiel.

It was announce! that the prince, wearied by his march
through forests and swamps, had rested his forces, and had
then penetrated into the rebel country, which he was burning;
and was killing all that came in his way. That an advance
guard, that had preceded him, under Skshetsuki, had
slaughtered a band of Cossacks and "blacks" consisting of two
thousand men and had destroyed them all, to the very last
man; and the prince himself had stormed Pohrebyshch, the
estate of the prince Zbaraski, and has left nothing behind
him but land ahd water. Dreadful things were related of the
storming and capture of Pohrebyshch, for it was the nest of
the most obstinate rebels. It was related that the prince had
said to his soldiers, "Kill them so that they will feel that they
are dying." And the soldiers committed the most frightful
cruelties. Not a living soul escaped from the town. Seven
hundred prisoners were hanged and two hundred impaled.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 323

They said also that many had had their eyes bored out; others
had been roasted at a slow fire. In a word, in that whole
region, the rebellion had been absolutely crushed. The in-
habitants either fled to Khmyelnitski or received the Lord of
Lubni upon their knees with bread and salt, and wept to excite
compassion. The smaller bands were all destroyed and, as
the fugitives from Samhovodka Spichyn, Ploskova and
Vakhnovki maintained there was not a single tree in the for-
ests from which a Cossack did not hang. And all this had
happened in the immediate neighborhood of ^^yalocerk and of
the hundreds of thousands of Khmyelnitski's army.

When Khmyelnitski heard of it, he bellowed like a wounded
auroch. On one side, negotiations, on the other, the sword.
If he should march against the Prince, it would be a sign that
he did not wish to enter into the negotiations which the
Count of Brusilov proposed to him.

His only hope was in the Tartars. He sprang up and hast-
ened into Tukhay Be3r^8 quarters.

"My friend," said he, after he had made the customary
salaam, "as you saved me at the Zolta Woda and at Korsun,
so save me now. An envoy has come from the Voyevoda of
Bratslav with a letter, in which he promises me satisfaction
and to the Zaporojians the restoration of their old privileges,
on the one condition, that I make an end of the war. And I
must do it, if I wish to show my good intentions. Mean-
while, here are rumors that my enemy, the Prince Vishnyov-
yetski, has destroyed Pohrebyshch, root and branch; that he
is cutting down my good Cossacks; impaling them and boring
out their eyes. And, as I am not able to march against him,
I have come to you with the request that you will advance
with your Tartars against my enemy, and yours. If you do
not do it, it will not be long before he attacks our camp."

The Murza, who was sitting on a pile of rugs that had been
stolen in Korsun, or carried away from the houses of the
nobles, rocked himself backwards and forwards, closed his
eyelids, as if for more careful thought, and finally answered:

"Allah! I cannot do it."

"Why?" asked Khmyelnitski.

"Because T have already lost enough \ eys and men on your
account, at Zolta Woda and at Korsun. 'V\Tiy should I sacri-
fice any more of them? Yeremy is a great warrior. I will
march against him, if you will come with me, but not alone.
I am no fool to lose all that I have heretofore won, in a single

324 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

battle. I would rather send the Chambuls out after booty
and prisoners, 1 have already done enougli for you unbeliev-
ing dogs. I will not go myself and will dissuade the Khan.
I have said it."

"You swore that you would help me!"

"So I did, but I swore to fight together with you, not in-
stead of you. Take yourself oft"!''

"I allowed you to take captives from among my people. I
have given up my booty to you; given up the hetmans to
you."

"If you had not given them up, I would have given you
up to them."

"I will go to the Khan."

"Go away, fool, I tell you."

And the Murza's pointed teeth showed between his lips.
Khmyelnitski saw that it was dangerous to persist any longer.
He rose, therefore, and really went to the Khan.

But from the Khan he received the same answer. The
Tartars had their own ideas, and were seeking their own ad-
vantage. Instead of fighting a decisive battle with a leader
who was considered unconquerable, they preferred to dis-
tribute their forces through the country and to enrich them-
selves without shedding blood. Raging with anger, Khmyel-
nitski returned to his quarters and, in his despair, stretched
out his hand for the bottle; but Vyhovski snatched the bottle
away.

"You shall not drink, hetman, the envoy is waiting. He
must be dealt with."

Khmyelnitski flew into a violent rage.

"I will have you and the envoy both impaled!"

"And I will not give you the gorzalka. Is it not a dis-
grace for you, whom fate has raised to such an eminence, to
fill yourself with vodka like a common Cossack? Fie! Fie!
Sir Hetman, you must not do it. The rumor of the arrival
of the envoy has already gone abroad. The army and colonels
are waiting for a council. Now is no time for drinking; but
you just hammer the iron while it is hot — for now you may
conclude peace and demand all that you wish; for let the
opportunity pass, and it will be too late for your head and
mine are in the balance .... you must send an ambassador
immediately to Warsaw and sue the king for peace."

"You have a good head," said Khmyelnitski, 'let the bells
ring to call the council; and say to the colonels on the square
that I am coming immediately.*^

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 325

Vyhovski went out and, immediately afterwards, the coun-
cil bells sounded, at whose voice the Zaporojians at once began
to assemble. The commanders and colonels took their places.
The terrible Kshyvonos, Khmyelnitski's righthand, Kshe-
chovski the sword of the Cossacks, the old and experienced
Dziedzial, Colonel Kropivnitski, Fedor Loboda of Pereyaslav,
the terrible Fedorenko, the wild Pushkavenko of Poltova who
commanded only Chabans, Shumeyko from Nish, the fiery
Charnota from Hadziats, Yakubovich from Chigrin besides
Nosach, Hladki, Adamovich, Glukh, Pulyay, Panich — not all
of them, for some were on the road and many of them in the
other world whither Prince Yeremy had despatched them.

The Tartars were not invited to the council this time. The
common people collected near by on the square; the throng-
ing crowd were driven away with sticks and straps and some
were killed. At length Khmyelnitski appeared, clothed in
red, his cap on his head, his baton in his hand. Beside him
walked the reverend priest, Patronius Lasko, white like a
dove; and on the other side Vyhovski with papers in his hand.

Khmyelnitski sat down among the officers and remained for
a time in silence. Then he removed his cap as a sign that
the council was opened, stood up and began to speak.

"Gentlemen, officers, and atamans, it is well Imown to you
that, on account of the great and undeserved wrongs we have
suffered, we have been obliged to take up arms; and, with
the assistance of the illustrious Czar of the Crimea, have de-
manded from the lords the reinstatement of the old rights and
privileges that have been taken from us, without the consent
of his Majesty, the King; and God has blessed our underta-
kings, has sent a terror upon our dishonorable tyrants, such
as they have never before known, and has in this manner, pun-
ished their oppression and their breach of faith. But he has
rewarded us with great victories, for which we are bound to
praise him with a grateful heart. As their pride has now
been punished, it becomes us to reflect, that henceforth, no
more Christian blood should flow, as God, in his mercy, and
as our holy faith commands. But we cannot lay down the
sword imtil our old rights and privileges are given back to
us, with the consent of the all powerful king. The Voyevoda
of Bratslav writes to me now that such an event is probable
and I agree with him, for it is not we, but the lords; the
Pototskis, the Kalinovskis, the Vishnyovyetskis, and the
Konietspolskis who have forfeited their allegiance to the king

326 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

and to the Commonwealth. As we have punished them, we
deserve a just compensation and reward from his Majesty and
the States. Therefore 1 request you, worthy comrades, and
friends, to read the letter of the Voyevoda of Bratslav, which
he has sent me through Father Patronius Lasko, a nobleman
of our ancient faith, and to determine wisely that the shedding
of blood in Christian countries shall come to an end, and that
we should receive indemnity and reward for the fealty and
obedience which we have shown to the Commonwealth.^'

Khmyelnitski did not ask if an end should be put to the
war. He demanded a decision, that it should be so. Conse-
quently a murmur of disapproval arose from some, which
presently broke into threatening shouts, led, especially, by
Charnota of Hadziats.

Khmyelnitski spoke not a word. He only looked carefully
in the direction whence the protests came and wrote down the
names of his opposers in his memory. Meanwhile, Vyhovski
stood up, holding the letter from Kisiel in his hand. Zorko
held up a copy of the letter in the air to read it out to the
council. Outside, as well as in the room, there was a deep
silence.

The Voyevoda began his letter in these words:

"Worthy Commander of the Zaporojian army of the Com-
monwealth. My old friend and comrade:

"Although there are many who take you for an enemy of
the Commonwealth, I am not only convinced of your faithful
attachment to it, but I am also endeavoring to convince the
Senators, my colleagues, of the same. There are three things
that convince me of this: First, because the army of the
Dnieper, although from time immemorial it has sought glory
and maintained its freedom, has always remained faithful to
the king, to the lords and to the Commonwealth. Secondly,
that our people of Russia are so firm in their faith that any
one of us would rather give up his life than yield one jot of
his faith. And thirdly, when, and more's the pity, as has
now happened that blood has been shed in a fraternal strife,
we still have a common country, in which we came into the
world, in which we enjoy our freedom; and there is not in the
whole world another kingdom and another country that pos-
sesses such laws and such privileges as ours. Therefore we
are all striving to guard the crown of this, our mother: if
there is evil, and it cannot be avoided, reason teaches us that
it is easier in a free State to adjust all wrongs than, after the

WITH FIRE AND ^WORD. 327

loss of such a mother to find another like her in Christendom,
or in Pagan countries."

Loboda of Pereyaslav interrupted the reader:

"He speaks the truth," he said in a loud voice.

"He speaks the truth," repeated the other colonels.

"It is not true! He lies, dog-believer, "cried Chamota.

"Silence, silence! you are yourself a dog-believer."

"You traitors, to death with you!"

"To death with yourself!"

"Silence, read on! Read! He is our man. Listen, listen!"

The storm was about to break in earnest, but Vyhovski con-
tinued to read and all was quiet again.

The Voyevoda went on to say that "the Zaporojian army
must have confidence in him, for it knew well that he, being
of the same blood and faith, would be their friend. He re-
minded them that in the unfortunate slaughter at Kumeykan
and Startsa he had taken no part. Then he demanded of
Khmyelnitski to put an end to the war, to send away the
Tartars or to turn his arms against them, and to confirm him-
self in his fealty to the Commonwealth. He closed his letter
with the following words:

"I promise you that, as true as I am a son of the Church
of God, and as true as my race springs from the people of
Russia, I will assist you to do all that is right. You know
very well that in this Commonwealth my word (through God's
Grace) is worth something, and that, without me, no war can
be declared nor peace be concluded. I am first opposed to the
civil war, etc." ....

There at once rose voices for and against; but, taken all
together the letter pleased the oificers and even the common
people. Nevertheless, in the first few moments, one could
understand nothing. One could hardly hear a word, on ac-
count of the violence with which the dispute raged about the
letter. The common people from a distance seemed like a
huge whirlpool, in which swarms of men moved back and
forth, fermenting and seething. The colonels shook their
plumes and sprang towards one another with threatening fists.
With angry faces, flashing eyes, and foaming lips, they glared
at one another. The partisans of war were led by Erasmus
Charnota, who had become perfectly mad with rage. Khmy-
elnitski himself, seeing it was on the verge of an outbreak and,
when such an outbreak took place, all voices were hushed,
a9 at the roaring of a lion but, before this happened, Kshe-

328 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ iSWOiJD.

chovski had sprang upon a bench, waved his bunch of plumes
and roared with a voice of thunder:

"Herding cattle suits you better than holding a council,
you Heathen dogs."

"Silence, Kshechovski wants to speak," cried Charnota,
who hoped that the celebrated colonel would speak in favor
of the war.

** Silence! Silence," roared the others.

Kshechovski enjoyed extraordinary respect among the
Cossacks, on account of the great services that he had ren-
dered; on account of his warlike ability; and, strangely
enough, because he was a nobleman. Consequently, all kept
silence and awaited eagerly to hear what he might say.
Khmyelnitski himself fastened his restless eyes upon him.

But Charnota had been mistaken when he expected that
the colonel would declare in favor of war. Kshechovski had,
with his quick wit, readily understood that he must obtain
now ot* never, from the Commonwealth, the starostships and
dignities of which he dreamed. He understood well that in
the event of a peace with the Cossacks he would be the first
whom the Commonwealth would seek to win over and pacify;
and the Lord of Oacow would then not be able to make any
opposition, for he w^as a prisoner. He therefore spoke as fol-
lows:

"My business is the sword, not the council; but, as a coun-
cil has been called, I will give you my opinion, for 1 have
deserved your favor as well as, if not better, than others.
We undertook this war in order to recover our rights and
privileges and the Voyevoda of Bratslav writes that they will
be given back to us. Therefore, it will either be so or it
will not. If this does not happen, let there be war. If we
recover them, peace. Why this useless shedding of blood?
If they satisfy us, and we satisfy the mob, the war will cease.
Our father Khmyelnitski has wisely considered and arranged
everything, so that we stand on the side of his Majesty, our
illustrious King, who will consequently reward us. And, if
the lords should be opposed to this, perhaps he will permit
us to speak a word to them — and we will speak to them. But
I would not advise sending away the Tartars. Let them
make their camp on the Wild Lands and wait until we have
one thing or the other."

Khmyelnitski's face brightened at these words and the
colonels began to call out in increasing numbers that they

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

329

should give up. the war and send ambassadors to Warsaw;
and that they should beg the Lord of Bratslav to come in
person and negotiate with them. Charnota was still scream-
ing and protesting but the colonel fixed his threatening
glance on him and said:

"You, you, Charnota, Colonel of Hadziats, you are shout-
ing for war and slaughter, and, when at Korsuu Dmokhov-
ski's soldiers came to attack you, you squeaked like a little
pig, ^Brothers, protect me!' and you ran away before your
whole regiment."

"You lie," screamed Charnota, "I fear neither the Poles
nor you."

Kshechovski sprang towards Charnota — some of the
others were already clenching their fists against the colonel
of Hadziats. The tumult recommenced. On the public
square, the soldiery were bellowing like a herd of aurochs.
Then Khmyelnitski stood up:

"Worthy gentlemen and colonels," he said, "we have de-
tennined to send ambassadors to Warsaw, who will repre-
sent our services to the illustrious King, and pray him for
a reward; but whoever wishes war may have it — not with
the king, not with the Commonwealth, for with these we
have never carried on war, but with our greatest enemy, who
is now wading in Cossack blood and yet continues to dye
his hands in it, in his enmity against the Zaporojian army.
I have sent letters and envoys to him and entreated him to
give up this enmity and he murdered my envoys most
cruelly; he has honored me, your commander, with no answer;
and, in this manner has shown his contempt for the whole
Zaporojian army. He is now marching hither from the other
side of the Dnieper. He has destroyed Pohrebyshch to the
last man; has punished innocent men, over whose death I
have wept bitter tears; and now, as I heard early this morn-
ing, he has gone to Nimirov and has also left no one alive
there. As the Tartars do not dare to march against him
from fear and terror, it will not be long before he arrives
here, in order to murder us, innocent ones, contrary to the
will of our illustrious King, and of the whole Commonwealth;
for, in his pride, he cares for no one and in his present re-
bellious attitude, he is ready to rise against the will of His
Royal Majesty."

AH was quiet in the council chamber. Khmyelnitski took
breath and continued:

330 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

^*God has rewarded us by a victory over the hetmans; but
he is worse than the hetmans, worse than all the kinglets, a
son of the devil who is the Father of lies. If 1 myself should
march against him, he would, through his friends,- raise a
cry in Warsaw that we did not wish peace and would mis-
represent our innocence to His Royal Majesty. In order
that this may not happen, the king and the Commonwealth
must be made aware that I do not wish the war; that I am
sitting here quietly; and that he is bringing the war to our
doors. That is why I cannot move for I must remain here
to negotiate with the Ijord Voyevoda of Bratslav. But in
order that he, this devil's son, may not break our power, we
must offer opposition to him and destroy his army, as we
defeated the hetmans at the Zolta Woda and at Korsun.
Therefore I entreat that you will march against him as vol-
unteers and I will write to the king that this has happened
without my knowledge, and from the absolute necessity of
guarding against Vishnyovyetski's enmity and attacks."

A dep silence reigned in the council chamber.

Khmyelnitski continued:

"Whoever, therefore, among you, wishes to undertake this
expedition I will give him sufficient forces, brave Cossacks,
cannon and gunners that he may, with God's help cast down
our enemy and obtain a victory over him."

Not one of the Colonels stepped forward.

"I will give him sixty thousand picked men," said Khmy-
elnitski.

Silence.

Yet these were all fearless warriors whose battle-cry had
so often rung about the walls of Tsarogrod. Yes, perhaps
each one feared to lose his laurels in the meeting with the
terrible Yeremy.

Khmyelnitski let his eyes wander over the colonels and
these could not stand his glance, but cast down their eyes.
Vyhovski's face took on an expression of Satanic wickedness.

"I know a Cossack," said Khmyelnitski gloomily, "who
would have stepped forward this moment and have dared this
expedition; but he is not among us. . . . "

"Bohun," cried a voice.

"It is he; he has already destroyed a regiment of Yeremy 's
in Vasilov, but he was wounded in this battle and is lying
in Cherkass, fighting death; and he is not here, I see no one
who can take his place. Where is the glory of the Cossacks?

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 331

Wliere are the Pavluks, the Nalevaykos, the Lobodas, and the
Ostranitsas?"

Then a short, fat man with a gloomy face, a fiery red mou-
stache over his thin lips, and green eyes, arose from the
bench and, standing before Khymelnitski, said:

"I will go!" It was Maxim Kshyvonos.

Shouts of approval arose from all sides.

But he leaned on his taff and spoke in hoarse, disjointed
sentences:

"Do not think, Hetman, that I am afraid. I would have
offered sooner, but I thought there were better men; but, if
I must go, I will go. What have you? You have heads and
hands. 1 have no head only a hand and a sword. Our
mother bore us once, but war is my mother and my sister.
Vishnyovyetski slaughters, so will 1. He hangs, so will 1.
And you Hetman, give me good Cossacks, for the "blacks"
are worth nothing against Vishnyovyetski, and I will go for-
ward; will destroy castles, hew down, slay, and hang. Death
to them, the white-handed gentlemen!" •

Another ataman stepped forward.

"I will go with you, Maxim."

It was Pulyan.

Charnota of Hadziats and Hladki from Mirgorod and
Nosach of Ostrensk will also go with you," said Khrayelnitski.

"Yee, we will go," they cried with one voice. Kshyvonos'
example had given them courage.

"Against Yeremy, against Yeremy," thundered voices in
the crowd.

"Forward! Forward!" repeated the company and, in a
short time, the council-room was changed into a drinking-
shop. The regiments who were destined for Kshyvonos
drank themselves dead drunk — were they not going to death?
The Cossacks knew that right well, but their hearts were
free from fear. "Our mother bore us once," they said, with
their leader; and therefore they acted as though death was
already before them. Klimyelnitski encouraged them and
the crowd followed his example. They began to sing; a
hundred thousand voices; they drove the horses about, which
tore round the camp, kicked up clouds of dust and caused in-
describable confusion. They were chased with screams, with
wild noise and laughter. Whole bands of men ran down
along the river, even forcing their way into the hetman's
quarters; until finally he ordered Yakubovich to disperse

332 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

them. They came to blows, then a violent storm drove them
to the tents and wagons. At evening, a hurricane raged;
thunder rolled from cloud to cloud; flashes of lightning il-
lumined the whole region, now with white, now with red
light. Amid the flashes, Kshyvonos moved out of the camp
at the head of sixty thousand men, picked warriors and
"blacks/'

CHAPTER XI.

Kshyvonos marched from Alotserkva, passed through
Skvira and Pohrebyshch towards Makhnovka and, wherever
he passed the last traces of habitation disappeared. Whoever
did not join his forces, perished by the knife. The very
grain in the ear, the forests and gardens were burned down;
and the prince also on his side was doing his best to destroy
life. After the slaughter of Pohrebyshch and the bloody
baptism which Colonel Baranovski has given to Niemierov
the army destroyed several large detachments of Cossacks
and pitched camp near Raygrod, for they had passed a month
in the saddle. They were weakened by fatigue and death
had considerably diminished their ranks. A rest was neces-
sary, for the hands of these reapers were exhausted from
their bloody harvest. The prince even hesitated, and con-
sidered whether it would not be better to go into a more
peaceful land for a time, in order to rest, and to increase his
forces; and, especially, on account of the horses, who re-
sembled skeletons of animals rather than living creatures,
as for a month, they had eaten no corn and had lived only
on the down trodden grass. Here, after a week's halt, news
was brought that troops were coming to the assistance of
the army. The prince rode to meet them and actually met
Colonel Janush Tyshkievich, the Voyevoda of Kiev who was
at the head of fifteen hundred brave horsemen and, with him,
Kryshtof Tyshkievich, subaltern judge of Bratslav, young
Pan Aksak, almost a boy, but leading a well-armed company
of hussars; besides a number of noblemen, among whom
were Pans Sienyutov, Polubinski, Jytniskis, Jelowickis, Kier-
deys, Boguslavskis, some with a following, others without;
altogether about two thousnd horse not counting the servants.
The prince was beside himself with joy; and, full of grati-
tude, he invited the Voyevoda into his house, the simplicity
and bareness of which astonished him, for the prince, who
in Lubni was accustomed to live like a king, in war times
allowed himself no comfort, in order to set an example to

333

334 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

his soldiers. He was living therefore, in a single room,
through whose narrow door the Voyevoda of Kiev could not
pass on account of his enormous girth and he was obliged
to have a servant push him through from behind. The fur-
niture of the room consisted of one table, some wooden
benches and a bed of planks, covered with horse hide; and
besides these only a pallet in the doorway upon which a ser-
vant slept, that he might be ready at any moment. This
simplicity surprised the Voyevoda, who loved comfort and
always travelled with a great many rugs and pillows.
As he stepped into the room, he looked at the prince in as-
tonishment, lie was surprised that such a great mind could
live amid such simplicity and discomfort. lie had seen the
prince at the Diet in Warsaw, and was indeed distantly re-
lated to him though he had but slight acquaintance with
him. As soon as the prince began to speak however, he
knew at once that he was dealing with an extraordinary man
and he, the old Senator, the old jovial soldier and comrade-
in-arms, who was accustomed to slap his brother senators on
their shoulders and to call Prince Dominik *^my friend,"
and was even on confidential terms with the king, could not
approaxih Vishnyovyet«^ki with such familiarity although the
prince had received him politely and was grateful to him
for his timely assistance.

"Sir Voyevoda," he said, "God be thanked that you have
come with some fresh men for I am already at my last
gasp."

"I noticed that the soldiers of your Highness are quite
worn out, poor fellows, and am not a little sorry to see it;
for I have come to your Excellency with the request that
you would come to my assistance."

"Is there any haste?"

^'Perinihim in mora! Periculum in mora! Some ten
thousand vagal3onds are approaching. Kshyvonos is leading
them, and has been sent against your Highness, I have heard,
from an informer. But he heard that your Excellency was
going to Konstantinov, he turned off in that direction
and on the road he besieged Machnovka and has caused such
devastation that it cannot be described in words."

"I have heard about Kshyvonos and have been waiting here
for him. As, however, he has escaped me, I see that I must
go and look for him. Indeed, this matter can stand no de-
lay. How strong is the garrison at Maknovka?"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 335

"Two hundred Germans, very fine soldiers, are in the castle
that should yet hold out for some time; but the worst of it
is, that a great number of the nobles have Bwarmed into
the town with their families, and as the town is only pro-
tected by ram parts and palisades it cannot hold out very long/'

"Truly, the matter can bear no delay,'' repeated the prince.

Then, turning to his boy:

"Zelenski," he said, "go at once and call the colonels."

The Voyevoda of Kiev, in the meantime, took his seat
upon a bench, to take breath. He looked round a little
anxiously for signs of supper for he was hungry and liked good
living.

The steps of armed men were heard approaching and the
prince's officers entered the room. They were swarthy, ema-
ciated, with unshaven beards, sunken eyes and the traces of
unspeakable fatigue in their features. They bowed in si-
lence before the prince and his guest, and waited to hear
what he had to say.

"Gentlemen," said the prince, "are the horses saddled?"

"They are, your Highness."

"Ready to march?"

"As ever, your Highness."

"Good, in an hour we will set out to find Kshyvonos."

"Eh?" said the Voyevoda of Kiev looing in astonishment
at Pan Kryshtof, the subaltern judge from Bratlav.

The prince however contiued:

"Colonel Poniatovski and Colonel Vyershul will first march
out, and with them Colonel Baranovski and the dragoons
and an hour later Vurtzel's cannon will follow them."

The colonels bowed and left the room and presently was
heard the sounds of trumpets calling to saddle.

The Voyevoda of Kiev had not expected such haste; in-
deed he had not wished it, for he was tired and excited. He
had calculated on resting twenty-four hours with the prince
and thought he would then be in plenty of time, and now,
he had to mount his horse without sleeping and without
eating.

"My Prince," he said, "will your soldiers be able to reach
Makhnovka, for I see that they are frightfully fatigued, and
the road is long."

"Do not let your head ache on that account. They go to
battle as to a singing."

"I see it; keen soldiers. But my men are tired from the
journey/^

336 ^^'^^ ^^RE ^^^ SWORD,

"But you said, Tericulum in mora!^ "

"That is true; but we might at least rest for a night. We
have come from the vicinity of Khymelnik."

"Sir Voyevoda, we eomie from Lubni, from the Dnieper
country."

"We have been a whole day on the march."

"We have been a whole month."

Then the prince went out in order to superintend person-
ally the order of march; but the Voyevoda stared at young
Kryshtof, slapped his knees with both hands and said:

*T^ow I have found what I want. By God! they let me
die of hunger here. They are hot-headed fellows. I came
here for help, thinking that, after the great exertions, they
would not march out for two or three days, and here they
do not give me time to draw breath. May the devil take
them! The strap w^hich that rascal of a servant fastened
badly has rubbed my foot; my stomach is growling . . .
may the Devil take them! Makhnovka'is Makhnovka, but
the stomach is a stomach. I am also an old soldier, have
seen more wars than these men, but do not go so head over
heels. These are devils, not men! They do not sleep, they
do not eat, only fight. As true as I love God, they do not
eat. Did you notice those Colonels, Pan Kryshtof? Did
they not look like spectres? What?"

"But they have the courage of lions," answered Pan
Kryshtof, who was a zealous soldier. "Dear God! What con-
fusion and disorder abound in other camps when it is a ques-
tion of setting out on the march. How much running hither
and thither, how much dragging of wagons back and forth,
looking for horses — and here, listen, the companies of in-
fantry are already setting out."

"Yes, yes, so they are, the devil," said the Voyevoda.

But the young Pan Aksak folded his soft boyish hands.

"0! he is a great commander," he said with enthusiasm.

"Milksop!" said the Voyevoda. "Cuntator was also a great
commander. Do you understand me?"

The prince entered.

"To horse, gentlemen, we are setting out."

The Voyevoda could stand it no longer.

"Your Highness, let them bring me something to eat, for
I am hungry," he cried in an outbreak of anger.

"Oh, my dear Voyevoda," said the prince, laughing and
taking his arm, "pardon me, pardon me! I apologize with
my whole heart, but in war, men forget those things."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

337

'"What, Pan Kryshtof, did I not say so? They do not eat!''
said the Voyevoda turning to the subaltern judge from Brats-
lav.

The supper did not last long and, two hours later, even
the infantry had already left Kaygrod. The army took its
way through Winnits and Lityn towards Khmyelnik. On
the way, Vyershul came upon a horde of Tartars in Zawer-
obka whom he and Volodiyovski slaughtered to the last man,
and also freed a couple of hundred prisoners, almost all girls.
The devastated region which showed everywhere traees of
Krshyvonos' hand began here. Stshyjavka was burnt down;
its inhabitants murdered in the most frightful manner; the
unfortunates had evidently offered resistance to Kshyvonos
who, in return, had given -them over to the sword and the
flames. At the entrance to the village, the Pan Stshyjovski
himself was hanging on an oak, and was immediately recog-
nized by Tyshkievich's men. He was perfectly naked and
wore around his neck an immense necklace of human heads
which were threaded on a rope. They were the heads of his
six children and his wife. In the village itself, which had
been burned to ashes, the regiment saw on bx>th sides of the
way a long line of Cossack torches, that is to say, men with
their hands raised above their heads, who were fastened to
posts stuck in the ground, and wound round with straw
covered with tar which had been set on fire. The greater
number of them had only had their hands burned; the rain
had evidently prevented the rise of the flames. These
corpses,, hh their drawn faces, with their black stumps of
hands raised to heaven were a terrible sight. All about there
was a strong odor of decay; crows and ravens were hovering
above the corpses and, on the approach of the army, flew away
with a loud noise, in order to settle on the more distant
posts. Several wolves fled before the approaching soldiers
and hid themselves in the thicket. The train moved silently
through the dreadful alley of "torches" and counted them.
There were over three hundred odd. At length they passed
through the unhappy village and breathed once more the
pure air of the steppes; but the traces of devastation con-
tinued. It was the early part of July. The wheat was almost
ripe and an early harvest was exepcted but entire crops were
partially burned, partly trodden down, beaten apart, crushed
into the ground. It looked as though a hurricane had passed
over the land. And indeed a hurricane had passed over it;

22

338 WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD.

the most dreadful of all — the hurricane of civil war. The
soldiers of the prince had often seen flourishing regions de-
stroyed after Tartar invasions; but such madness of destruc-
tion they had never in their life seen. The woods were
burned down as well as the grain; where the fire had not de-
stroyed the trees, the tongues of flame had burned off bark
and foliage, blackened them with smoke and left the trunks
standing like skeletons. The Voyevoda of Kiev saw this
spectacle and could hardly trust his eyes, Miedzyakov, Zhar,
Futor, Sloboda were a heap of ashes. Here and there the
peasants had joined Kshyvonos. The women and children,
however, had been taken captive by the horde that Vyershul
and Volodiyovski had destroyed. On the earth devastation;
in the air, flocks of crows, ravens, -^harvest. The traces of the
Cossack army were constantly renewed. Here and there one
came across broken wagons, corpses of men and animals that
had not yet been given over to decay; broken pots, brass
kettles, bags of damp flour, smoking ruins, overthrown new
hay-stacks. The prince urged his company forward to
Khmyelnik and did not give them time to draw breath. The
old Voyevoda seized his head with both hands and repeated
piteously:

"My Makhnovka! My Makhnovkal I see that we can
never get there in time."

Meanwhile the news had reached Khmyelnik that it was
not the old Kshyvonos himself but his son, who was besieg-
ing ^lakhnovka with several thousand men and that it was
he who had commanded this inhuman devastation. The
town, it was said, was already taken. The Cossacks had hewn
down the nobility and the Jews; tak^n the noble ladies into
their camp, where a worse fate than death awaited them;
but the little castle under the command of Colonel Lev was
still holding out. The Cossacks stormed it from the Ber-
nardine monastery, in which they had killed the monks. Lev
was fighting with the remnants of his garrison and of his
gunpowder, could not hold out much longer than one night
more. The prince therefore left the infantry, the cannon
and the bulk of the army behind; comanding them to go to
Bystshyk while he with the Voyevoda, Pan Kryshtof and
Pan Aksak and two thousand men hastened to their relief.
The old Voyevoda wanted to hold him back, for he had
completely lost his head.

"Makhnovka is lost. We shall be too late! Let us give

WITH FIRE A2fD SWORD. 339

it up and defend the other places and provide them with gar-
risons," pleaded he.

But the prince would not listen to him. The young sub-
judge from Brdtslav urged an immediate advance, and the
army was anxious for war.

"Now that we have come here, we will not go back without
shedding blood," said the colonels and they went forward.

When within a half a mile of Makhnovka, a number of
horsemen came riding at full speed to meet them. It was
Colonel Lev with his comrades. When the Voyevoda saw
him, he guessed at once what had happened.

"The citadel is taken?" he cried.

"It is," answered Lev, and, as he spoke, he fell in a dead
faint; for he was cut with swords and wounded with bullets
and had lost much blood. And the others began to relate
what had happened. The Germans had been killed to the
last man. They preferred to die rather than to give up. Lev
had fought his way through the crowd and through the
broken gates; but in the rooms of the tower a number of
noblemen were still defending themselves and these must be
assisted without delay. The soldiers put spurs to their
horses. They soon came in sight of the town and castle,
above which a thick cloud of smoke told of the fire that was
just beginning. The day was already declining. A gold and
purple glow shone in the heavens and the army at first took
it for the reflection of a fire. By the bright light, one saw
the regiments of the Zaporojians and the close ranks of the
"blacks" who swarmed all the more boldly through the gates
to meet the prince from the fact that no one in the town
had heard anything of his being close at hand. They be-
lieved, rather, that only the Voyevoda of Kiev was coming
to raise the siege. Vodka had evidently made them perfectly
blind, or else, the taking of the citadel had filled them with
immense self-confidence; for they came boldly down from the
hill and began amid great rejoicing to form in battle order to
the sound of kettle drums and trumpets. At this sight, a
cry of joy arose from the Poles, and the Voyevoda of Kiev
had an opportunity for the second time to admire the dis-
cipline of the prince's troops. They halted at the sight of
the Cossacks and placed themselves at once in order of battle,
the heavy cavalry in the centre, the light cavalry on both
wings, so that there was nothing more to do, and they could
begin operations at once.

340 ^^TH FIRE AND SWORD.

"Pan Kryshtof, what kind of people are those," said the
Voyevoda. "With one move they are in battle order. They
could fight a battle without a leader."

The prince, however, as a cautious general, with his baton
in his hand flew in and out between the companies, from one
wing to another, overseeing everything and giving his last
orders. The evening glow was reflected on his silver breast-
plate and he looked like a bright flame darting hither and
thither among the ranks, for he was the only one that glis-
tened, among the dark armor.

There was drawn up in the centre of the front line, three
regiments; one commanded by the Voyevoda of Kiev him-
self; one commanded by the young Pan Aksak; and the third
by Colonel Tyshkievich. Behind them, in the second line,
the dragoons under Baranovski's command and, last of all,
the princess giant hussars with Pan Skshetuski at their head.
The wings were commanded by Vyershul, Kushel and Pon-
iatovski. They had no cannon, for Vurtzel had remained
behind in Bystshyk.

The prince rode up hastily to the Voyevoda and motioned
with his baton.

"You may begin first to avenge the insult put upon you."

The Voyevoda waved his baton in the air. His men
bowed in their saddles and moved forward. One could aft
once recognize, by the way in which he commanded his
company, that, although the Voyevoda was unwieldy and a
loiterer and a man on whom years were beginning to tell, he
was yet an experienced and valiant soldier. He did not allow
his soldiers to dash forward to a violent attack, but led them
slowly, in order to spare their strength; increasing the force
of his attack, as he gradually approached the enemy. He
himself rode in the front rank with his baton in his hand, his
attendants carried his long heavy sword though it was not
too heavy for his hand. The "blacks" swarmed on foot to
meet the company, with scythes and flails in their hands in
order to receive the first attack, and thus make it easier for
the Zaporojians. They had hardly come within a hundred
yards of each other when the mob from Makhnovich recog-
nized the Voyevoda by his enormous bulk and stature and
began to shout:

"Eh! Gracious Voyevoda, th« harvest is at the door, why do
you not command your serfs to go and reap. Your servants,
gracious Lord, we will pierce your belly!"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 341

A shower of buUeis fell on the soldiers but did no harm,
for th-ey dashed forward like a storm wind. Both sides met
with a crash. The clattering of scythes was heard and the
rattling of the flails, as they fell on the shields, and from all
directions arose cries and groans. The lances made a road
through the thickly packed ^Hblacks,'^ through which the
horses rushed like a hurricane; overturning, treading down
and crushing everyone on their way and, as in a meadow,
when a row of reapers sets to work, the luxuriant grass falls
beneath their scythes and they move forward, swinging their
scythe handles through the air, so did the immense masses of
^Tblacks" grow less. They seemed to melt beneath the shower
of blows; they disappeared; and, knocked over by the horses,
th-ey could no longer stand, and began to waver. Presently
the cry was heard, "Save yourselves! Save yourselves!" The
entire mob threw down their scythes, flails, hay-forks and
muskets and started back in wild flight towards the regiments
of Zaporojians that they had left in the town. But the Za-
porojians feared that the fleeing mob might bring their ranks
into confusion and they placed their lances at rest so that the
mob at sight of this reception ran hither and thither with
howls of despair. It was not long, however, before Kushel
and Poniatovski, who had sej)arated from the two wings of
thie prince's army, scattered them like chaff.

The Voyevoda, marching over the corpses of the ^^lacks"
stood face to face with the Zaporojians; dashed forward upon
them as they did upon him, for they wished to answer assault
with assault; and they dashed into one another, like two
waves that come from opposite directions and, at their mee1>
ing, form a high ridge of foam. Thus did the horses rear
opposite one another, the horsemen forming a wall; and the
swords above these walls looked like the foam. The Voye-
voda soon saw that h'C had not to deal here with the "blacks"
but with the picked, trained forces of the Zaporojians? The
two lines pressed against each -other and had to bend, as
neither could force their way through. Corpses fell thickly
about, for each man foimd his man, each sword, its sword.
The Vov-evoda himself hung his baton at his side; seized his
sword, that his attendant was carrying, and worked in the
sweat of his brow, puffing like a blacksmith's bellows. Be-
side him the two Pans Sinyutos, the Kierdeys, Boguslavskis,
Yelovitskis, and Polubinskis were moving back and forth.
On the side of the Cossacks, Ivan Burdabut was fighting most

342 ^i'^^ f^R^ ^^^ SWORD.

savagely. He was lieutenant colonel of the Calmiick regi-
ment; a Cossack of gigantic strength and stature, who was
all the more terrible because his horse equalled him as a
fighter. Many a man turned his horse aside, so as not to
encounter this centaur who spread death and destruction
around him. The brothers Sinyutos dashed towards him,
but Burdabut's horse seized the young Audrey between his
teeth and killed him in a moment. When the older brother
Kaphael saw this, he slashed his sword across the animaPs
forehead above the eyes. The horse was wounded but not
killed, for the sword struck the brass button on the strap
across the forehead.

• But at this moment Burdabut pierced Raphael in the
throat and killed him on the spot. Thus fell the brothers
Sinyutos, and lay, with their gilded shields, in the dust l)e-
neath the horses' feet. Burdabut, however, darted like a
flame into the other ranks and attacked Prince Polubinski, a
youth of sixteen, whose right arm he cut off. Pan Urbinski
saw this and rushed to avenge the death of his relation. He
fired his pistol at Burdabut's face but missed it, and only
carried away his ear and covered him with blood. Burdabut
and his horse were now a frightful sight; both of them black
as night, both covered with bipod, both with wild eyes and
distended nostrils, both raging like a hurricane. Urbinski
himself did not escape death at his hands, like an executioner,
Burdabut chopped off his head with one blow. The eighty-
year old Jytynski and the two Nikchemnikh fell under his
hand; the others began to draw back in terror, especially as
behind Burdabut gleamed a hundred more Zaporojian
swords and a hundred bloody lances. The wild Zaporojian
leader finally perceived the Voyevoda of Kiev, and, with a
tremendous shout of joy, he sprang towards him, overturning
horses and riders in his way. The Voyevoda, however, did
not retreat. Trusting in his enormous strength, he breathed
heavily, like a wounded wild boar, raised his sword above his
head, e:ave his horse the spur and dashed forward on Burda-
but; the Voyevoda's last hour would certainly have come; the
Fates would have certainly cut the thread of his life with
their shears, which they did later at Okshei, if Silnitski, a
noble youth, 'had not sprung like lightning upon the Zaporo-
jian leader and seized him round the waist before he could
cut him with his sword; for while Burdabut was occupied with
him Colonel Kierdey shouted for help for the Voyevoda. In

WtfB fIRB AN1> SWOkD.

343

a moment, some ten men were on the spot, and separated him
from the Zaparojian, then a fierce struggle ensued. But the
weary regiments of the prince began to waver before the
superior strength of the Zaporojians. They retreated and
were getting into confusion when the sub-judge of Bratslav
and Aksak advanced with fresh companies. It is true, that
at the same moment, new Zaporojian regiments also came
into the fray; but, on the other hand, the prince was waiting
with Baranovski's dragoons and Skshetuski's hussars who, up
to this, had taken no part in the battle.

The bloody slaughter began afresh. Twilight had already
fallen but the flames had spread to the farthest house in the
town. The glow of the fire lighted up the battle-field, and
one could see distinctly both ranks, the Polish and the Cos-
sacks, as they attacked each other at the foot of the hill. One
could see the color of the standards and even the faces of the
soldiers. Vyershul, Poniatovski and Kushel were also in the
thick of the fight; for after they had destroyed the mob, they
began to attack the Cossack wings which, beneath their pres-
sure, began to retreat towards the hill. The long line of
fighters curved towards the town at both ends and this curve
became still sharper for, as the Polish wings moved fon^^ard,
the middle ranks overpowered by the Cossacks retreated to-
words the prince. Three new Cossack regiments advanced in
order to brea through the ranks; but, at this moment, the
prince commanded Pan Baranovski^s dragoons to advance
and these reinforcei" the strength of the wavering ones.

The hussars, alon , remained with the prince. From the
distance, they eeemed like a thick wood growing straight
from the ground, a threatening cluster of iron men, horses,
and lances. The evening wind moved the banners above
their heads and they waited patiently, not fretting to figiht
before the word of command — patiently, for, as warriors
practised and experienced in many battles, they knew well
that they would have their bloody share. Among them stood
the prince in his silver armor, the gold baton in his hand, di-
recting his strained glance on the field of battle. On the left
hand, Pan Skahetuski, a little sideways near the end of the
line. In his capacity of lieutenant, he had turned back his
sleeve and waited; holding in his powerful hand, with arm
bared to the elbow, a sword instead of a baton, waiting
patiently for the word of command.

The prince, with his left hand shading his eyes from the

J44 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWOkD.

firelight, gazed upon tihe battle. Half of the Polish semi-
circle reti^eated slowly towards him overpowered by superior
strength, for Baranovski could not hold them any longer;
the same Baranovski who had conquered Niemivor. Th-e
prince saw how desperately hard was the task of the soldiers.
The flash of sabres was seen above the black line of heads, but
it soon vanished as the blow fell. Riderless horses plunged
out of the crowd of combatants, neighing and running across
the plain with floating manes, looking against the back-
ground of firelight like monsters of Hell. The red flag
floating for a time above the crowd suddenly fell, to rise no
more. Bu't the glance of the prince flew across the line of
fighting men beyond to the 'town where at the head of two
picked regiments young Kshyvonos himself, stood awaiting
the moment when he could plunge into the centre and com-
pletely break the wavering ranks of the Poles. At length he
darted forward and rushed with a frightful yell upon Baran-
ovski's drrgoons. But the prince was waiting for this mo-
ment.

"Forward," he cried to Skshetuski.

Skshetuski raised his sword and the iron wall advanced.
They had not far to ride, for the advancing column had ap-
proached considerably. Baranovski^s dragoons with the
speed of lightning, divided and separated right and left in
order to leave the way open for the hussars to reach the Cos-
sacks, and they plunged through the open way with their
whole might upon the conquering forces of Kshyvonos.

"Yeremy! Yeremy!" shouted the hussars.

"Yeremy!" was repeated by the whole army.

The dreaded name filled the hearts of the Zaporojians with
sudden terror. Now for the first time they learned that it
was not the Voyevoda of Kiev, but the prince, himself, who
was commanding. Besides they were unable to offer any re-
sistance to the hussars against whom their own energy had
thrown them and who, like a falling wall, crushed all beneath
them. The only salvation for them wae to make a breach in
their itanks by dividing and separating on both sides so as to
allow the hussars to pass through, and then to attack them
on both flanks, but the flanks w^re already protected by the
dragoons and by Vyershul, Kushel and Poniatovski's light
cavalry, who, after they had driven back the Cossack wings,
forced their way to the center. Now the order of the battle
was changed; for the light regiments lined up at two sides and

Wirn FIRE AND SWORD.

345

sort of formed at once a roadway, between which the hussars
flew at mad speed; crushing men and horees, forcing their
way and scattering everything before them. Plunging for-
ward, bellowing and howling the Cossacks flew towards the
hill and the town. If Vyershul's wing had succeeded in unit-
ing with Poniatovski's wing, they would have been suiv
rounded and slain to the very last man. But neither Vyershul
nor Poniatovski dared to venture this, for the crowd of fugi-
tives was too great, so they only attacked the flanks till their
hands grew weary with wielding the sword.

Young Kshyvonos, although brave and rash, lost his head
completely when he saw that his brief experience was power-
less against such a leader as the prince; and fled at the head
of his men toward the town. Vyerahul who was standing at
the flank spied the fugitive, sprang after him, and gave the
young leader a blow in the face with his sword. It did not
kill him for his helmet checked the force of the blow, but he
was covered with blood and his courage forsook him com-
pletely. But Vyershul nearly paid for this act with his life;
for, at that moment, Burdabut with the remainder of the
Kalnitski regiment dashed towards him.

He had twice opposed the hussars, but twice, as if repulsed
by superhuman power, he had been obliged to retreat like the
rest. At length he restored order among his men and de-
termined to attack Kushel on the flank and to make his way
through the dragoons into the open field. But before he
could force the passage through, the way that led to the hill
and the town was so closely packed with men that a speedy
retreat was impossible. The hussars advanced slowly towards
this human throng, broke their lances and began to hack at
the crowd with their swords. A confused, disorderly, wild
battle began and raged without mercy in the midst of the
crowd; amid the glow and the noise; amid the exhalations
from men and horses. Corpse fell upon corpse, the hoofs of
the horses sank in quivering flesh; at places the crowd was so
closely packed that there was not even room to strike with the
sword; they fought with clubs, knives and fists. The horses
began to neigh. Here and there came cries of "Mercy,
Poles!^^

These cries grew louder, increased and drowned the clash
of swords, the sound of breaking bones, the rattling breath
and frightful gasp of the dying. "Mercy! mercy! masters,^^
sounded ever more piteously; but compassion did not exist in

3^6 ^'^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 8W0RD.

that mass of combatants. The fiery flames alone lighted
them, as the sun through a stonn.

Burdabut, alone, at the head of his Kalnitski soldiers did
not beg for mercy. He had no room to fight and so, with his
knife, he cut a path. First he attacked the stout Dziki and
thrust him through the body, so that he fell from his horse.

"0 Jesus,'' he cried, and lifted his head no more beneath
the horse's hoofs which trampled out his entrails. There was
soon room enough and Burdabut now raised his sword and
cut oif Zokolski's head, together with his helmet, and then he
overthrew Priam and Tsertovich witli tlieir horses. There
was more room. Young Zenobuish made a slash at his head;
but the sword slipped from his hand and cut through the air,
and the Zaporojian gave him a blow in the face and killed
him on the spot. The Kalnitskis followed him, hewing with
their swords and piercing with their daggers. *'He is pos-
sessed! he is possessed!" cried the hussars. '*The sword does
not hurt him, the madman!'' And he really had foam on
his lips and mad fury in his eyes. Presently, he remarked
Skshetuski and, once recognizing him as an officer by his
turned up sleeve, he sprang towards him. All held their
breath and stopped fighting to look at the encounter between
the two dreaded warriors. For Skshetuski had not allowed
himself to be alarmed by the cry "Pie is possessed!" But
anger raged in his breast at the sight of so much carnage. He
ground his teeth and charged, snorting with rage, upon the
Zaporojian leader. They came upon each other with such
force that their horses reared. The swords cut through the
air and, suddenly, the sword of the Zaporojian was snapped in
two by the stroke of the Polish sword. It seemed as if no
power could save Burdabut, when he sprang and seized
Skshetuski in such a tight clasp that both seemed to form one
body — then his knife gleamed at the throat of the hussar.

Death flashed before Skshetuski's eyes, for he could not
strike another blow with his sword; but like lightning, he let
fall the sword that hung by a strap to his belt and with his
hand seized the uplifted hand of the Zaporojian leader. For
a moment, these two hands struggled convulsively in the air;
but Skshetuski's hand must have been of iron, for the Zaporo-
jian howled like a wolf, and the knife fell from his numbed
fingers before the eyes of all, like ripe grain from the ear.
Then Skshetuski let the cnished hand drop and, seizing him
by the neck, forced bis head down to the saddle tree; with

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^^j

his left hand he grasped the haton at his side, brought it
down once, twice — ^and the Zaporojian gurgled and fell from
his horse.

The Kalnitski soldiers screamed aloud at this sight and
hastened to avenge themselves; but as they did so the hussars
fell upon them and cut them to pieces. At the other end of
the line of hussars, the battle had never ceased; for the throng
was not so great. There might be seen Longin, fighting
furiously, 'cut cowl' and adorned with Anna's scarf. On the
day after the battle, the knights gazed in astonishment at
the scene of action and, as they saw the trunkless arms and
hands, heads split open, bodies cut in half, whole paths cov-
ered with corpses of men and horses, they said softly to one
another, "look, that is where Longin fought." The prince,
himself, looked on these corpses and, although on the follow-
ing day he was very much worried by news that he received,
he marvelled for he had never seen such blows in his life.

The battle appeared to be coming to an end. The heavy
cavalry first moved forward, driving before them the Zaporo-
jian regiments who had sought shelter on the hill in the
direction of the town. Kushel's and Poniatovski's regiments
cut off the retreat of the fugitives,, who were surrounded, but
defended themselves with despair until the last man had
fallen. But through their death they had saved the others,
for when, Vyershul, two hours later, came into the town, with
his Tartar guards, he found not a single Cossack left. The
enemy, under cover of the darkness — the pouring rain had
put out the fire — had quickly seized the empty wagons in the
town, and, with the speed that is peculiar to Cossacks, made
them ready for travelling and fled from the town across the
Dnieper, burning all bridges behind them. The first thing
Vyer&hul did, when he got into the town, was to set free a
num'ber of noblemen who had defended themselves in the
citadel. The prince commanded Vyershul to punish the
citizens who had united with the Cossacks, and placed him-
self at the head of a pursuing party; but he could not take the
baggage train without cannon and infantry. The enemy hav-
ing gained time by burning the bridges, for one was now
obliged to go far along the* river to cross, had fled so swiftly
that the tired horses of the prince's cavalry could hardly reach
them. The Cossacks, however, although celebrated for their
defence in the train did not offer as valiant a resistance as
usual. The terrible certainty that the prince had followed

348 W/5rH FIRE AND SWORD.

them had taken away their courage so that they despaired of
escape. And their last hour would certainly have come, for
Pan Baranovski, after fighting the whole night, had already
taken forty wagons and two cannon, had it not been for the
Voyevoda of Kiev who opposed further pursuit and withdrew
his men. This caused a sharp dispute between him and the
prince, which was overheard by many of the colonels.

"Why," said the prince, "do you wish to spare the enemy,
when yx)u fought against them with such intensity in the
battle? Do you wish to lose through indolence this morning
the glory that you won last evening."

"Prince," answered the Voyevoda, "I do not know what
spirit dwells in you, but I am a man of flesh and blood and
need rest after my work, and so do my people. I will ever
fight against the enemy as I have fought to-day. When he
stends opposite me; but I will not pursue the defeated, the
fugitives."

"Hew them down to the last man," cried the prince.

"And what then?" asked the Voyevoda. "'Hiis slaughter
will come to an end; then old Kshyvonos will come and bum
and destroy, and slaughter your men as he has done in Stshy-
jav and the unfortunates must atone for our work."

"0, 1 see how it is," cried the prince, already furious, "you,
together with the Chancellor and the regiments belong to
the peace party, who wish to put down the rebellion by nego-
tiation. But, by the living God, nothing will come of it, as
long as 1 grasp a sword."

But the Voyevoda answered, "I belong to no party, but to
God; for I am old and will soon stand before Him; and that
I do not wish that too heavy a burden of the blood that is
shed in the peasant war should oppress me, should not sur-
prise your Highness. . . If, however, your Highness feels
hurt to think that the command was not given to you, I say
to you, that as far as courage is concerned, you would be
fitted for it; and yet, it is perhaps better that you should not
have it; for you would drown, not only the rebellion in blood,
but with it this unfortunate land."

The prince knitted his Jovian brows; his neck swelled, and
his eyes shot fire, and all present were alarmed for the Voye-
voda, when, suddenly, Skshetuski came up in haste and said:

"Your Highness, news from the old Kshyvonos."

The princess thoughts were immediately directed in an-
other channel and his anger against the Voyevoda disap-

WITn FIRE AND SWORD. 349

peared. Four men were led forward who had arrived with
news; among them, two, old, reverend priests who, at the
sight of the prince, fell on their knees. "Save us, master,
save us," they cried and stretched out their hands implor-
ingly towards him.

"Whence do you come?" asked the prince.

"We are from Polonna. Kshyvonos the elder has besieged
the castle and the town, and if your sword does not threaten
his head we are all dead men."

The prince answered, "I know that a number of persons
have taken refuge in Polonna but, as I was told, mostly people
of Russia. You are in God's service and are bound not to
join the rebellion and have opposed it, standing fast by your
mother. And yet I fear treachery from you, such aa I ex-
perienced at Nimirov.

Then the messengers began to swear, by all the saints in
Heaven, that they had hastened to meet the prince, as a
saviour and that the thought of treachery was quite foreign
to them. And they spoke the truth, for Kshyvonos had be-
sieged them with fifty thousand men, and sworn that he would
put them all to death, simply because, as subjects of Kussia,
they would not join the rebellion.

The prince promised them help but, as his chief strength
was in Bystshyk, he was obliged to wait for it. The messen-
gers departed with comfort in their hearts. Then the prince
turned to the Voyevoda of Kiev and said:

"Pardon me! I see myself that we must let the younger
Kshyvonos go, in order, to reach the old Kshyvonos. The
young man may wait a little longer for the halter. I believe
that you will not desert me in this new undertaking."

"As I live!" said the Voyevoda,

The trumpets now sounded and called to the regiments who
had gone to the baggage-train to return. It was necessary
to rest and give the horses a breathing space. Towards even-
ing, the whole division came from Bystshyk and, with them,
Pan Stakhovich, the envoy from the Voyevoda of Bratslav.
Pan Kishel wrote a letter to the prince, full of expressions of
admiration; he entreated the second Marius to save his coun-
try in its dangerous extremity. He depicted the joy that the
arrival of the prince from the Trans-Dnieper had aroused in
all hearts; and congratulated him upon his victory; only at the
close of the letter, did it become evident what motive he had
for writing. The lord of Bratslav told the prince that the

350 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ SWORD.

negotiations had begun; that he, himself, with other com-
panions was going to Byalotserkiev and that he hoped to
soothe and pacify Khmyelnitski. In conclusion, he begged
the prince not to deal too severely with the Cossacks, and to
give up as much as possible all warlike undertakings until the
close of the negotiations.

Had one announced to the prince that his whole Dnieper
country was devastated; that all the cities had ben razed to the
ground, it would not have wounded him so deeply as did
this letter.

Pan Skshetuski, Pan Baranovski, both the Tyshkieviches
and Kierdeys witnessed his distress. The prince placed his
hand over his eyes, his head fell backwards as though an
arrow had pierced his heart.

"Dishonor, dishonor, God in Heaven, let me die, that I
may not witness this thing."

A deep silence reigned among those present and the Prince
continued:

"I would not live in this Commonwealth, for I should be
ashamed. The Cossack 'blacks,' the peasantry, have flooded
the country with blood; united with the Heathen against
their own mother. The hetmans are beaten, the armies de-
stroyed, the glory of the nation trampled underfoot. Author-
ity is overcome, the churches burned down, the priests, the
nobles slain, the women ravished; and upon these ruins, this
dishonor, at sight of which our ancestors would have died —
what does the Commonwealth answer? With the traitor, with
her despoilers, with the allies of the Heathen she enters into
negotiations and promises them satisfaction. 0 God, let me
die, I repeat, for we can no longer live in the worid who feel
the dishonor of the mother country and bring our lives to
her as a sacrifice."

The Voyevoda of Kiev was silent. Pan Kshyshtof, how-
ever, spoke after a shori; pause:

"Pan Kisiel is not the Commonwealth."

The Prince answered: "Do not talk to me of Kisiel. I
know very well that he has a large party at his back. What he
is doing is quite in accord with the views of the primate, the
chancellors, Prince Dominik and many noblemen, who to-day,
during the interregnum, have taken the rudder of the Com-
monwealth in their hands and represent its majesty, or
rather, through weakness unworthy of a great nation, dis-
honor it. Not with speeches, but with blood must this fire be

WtTH nnW AND SWORD. 351

extinguished; for it is more glorious for a knightly nation to
be destroyed than to humiliate itself and bring upon itself
the contempt of the whole world/*

And once more the prince covered his eyes with his hand.
The sight of this sorrow and pain was so overwhelming that
the colonels hardly knew how to keep back the tears that
came into their eyes.

'*My Prince/' Zatsvilikhovski ventured to say, "let them
light with their tongues, we will continue to fight with our
swords.'*

"So bo it/' ansA/ered the prince, "my heart is breaking at
the thought of what ^^e ought now to do. When we heard
of the misfortune oi our country, did we not march through
wild forests, through impassable swamps to reach here; have
we not denied ourselves oleep, food, and drink; have we not
sacrificed our last strength to save this, our mother, from
downfall, from shame? Our hands fall from weariness, hun-
ger gnaws us, om ounds are painful, — ^but we despise fatigue
if we can only restrain the enemy. You tell me that I am
hurt because I did not have the chief command. The world
may judge whether those who hold it are worthy, and I call
on God and on you as witnesses, that I, like yourself, have
not sacrificed my blood for the sake of reward and dignities,
but from pure love of our mother-country; and, as we are
drawing our last breath, what do they announce to us — that
these gentlemen of Warsaw and this Pan Kisiel in Hushch
are thinking of conciliating the enemy. Dishonor and dis-
grace?"

"Kisiel is a traitor/' cried Pan Baranovski.

Then Pan Stakhovich, an earaest and quiet man, arose
and, turning to Baranovski, said:

"As a friend' of the Voyevoda of Bratslav and serving under
him I cannot suffer that he should be here called a traitor.
His beard has grown gray with anxiety, and he serves his
country as he thinks best. Mistakenly, perhaps, but honor-
ably."

The prince did not hear this answer, for he was sunk in
sorrow and thought.

Baranovski dared say no more in his presence, but he fixed
his steely glance upon Stakhovich as though he would say:
"I'll settle with you," and laid his hand upon the hilt of his
sword.

Meanwhile Yeremy had awakened from his brooding
thoughts and said gloomily:

35^ ^ITH PIRE AND SWORD.

"We have no other choice than either to disobey (for in
the time of interregnum they rule), or to sacrifice the honor
of the country, for which we suffered labors and fatigues. . . "

"From disobedience came all the evils of this Common-
wealth/' said the Voyevoda of Kiev very earnestly.

"Shall we then suffer the disgrace of the Commonwealth?
If they should command us to-morrow to go to Tukhay Bey
and to Khmyelnitski with a rope around our necks, should
we also obey him?''

"Veto," said Pan Kshyshtof, the sub- judge of Bratslav.

"Veto," repeated Kierdey.

The prince turned to his colonels.

"Speak, old soldiers," he said.

Zptsvilikhovski spoke first.

"My Prince, 1 am seventy years old, I am an Orthodox Rus-
sian; 1 was a Cossack commissary. Khmyelnitski, himself,
called me father. 1 ought to counsel negotiations, but if I
must decide between disgrace or war, going as 1 am to the
grave, I would say War!"

"War!" repeated Skshetuski.

"War! War!" repeated numerous voices, among them those
of Kshyshtof, the two Kierdeys, Baranovski, and all present.

"War! War!"

"It shall be as you say," said the prince with dignity, and
struck his baton on the letter of Pan Kisiel that lay open on
the table.

CHAPTER Xn.

A day later, as the army was halting in Ryltsov, the prince
called Skshetuski to him, and said:

"Our fighting strength is weak and exhausted. Kshyvonos,
however, has sixty thousand men, and his forces increase
from day to day, for the blacks are flocking to him. I cannot
count on the Voyevoda of Kiev, for, at heart, he belongs to
the peace party; and, even if he accompanies me, he does so
unwillingly. We must, in some way or other, try and increase
our forces; and I have just heard that two colonels are sta-
tioned not far from Konstantinov, Osinski with the king's
guard, and Korytski. Take, for safety, a hundred of my
Semenov guards, go to these men and take them my com-
mand, that they should hasten and come to me without de-
lay, for I wish to attack Kshyvonos in a few days. No one
can do my commission as well as you, therefore I send you —
and the matter is of the greatest importance."

Skshetuski bowed and set out the sajne evening at twilight
for Konstantinov, so as to travel, without being observed.
For, here and there, might be found Kshyvonos scouts, or
swarms of blacks who were committing highway robbery in
the forests and on the roads; and the prince had advised him
to avoid any engagement so that he might not lose time. He
therefore went along quietly, and, by daybreak, reached the
pond of Visovari, where he came upon both the colonels and,
at sight of them, felt very joyful. Osinski had an excellent
dragoon regiment trained after foreign fashion, and Germans.
Korytski had only German infantry, consisting exclusively of
veterans of the Thirty Years War. These dreaded and ad-
mired soldiers were so well trained tLat they were like a
sword in the hands of its commander. Both regiments were
remarkably well armed and well provided with ammunition.
When they heard that they were to join the prince, they
shouted for joy; for they were longing for battle and knew
that they would never have such a good chance under any
other command. Unfortunately, both colonels refused to go;

353
23

354 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ /fifWOUD.

for both belonged to the command of Prince Dominik Zas-
lavski and had special orders not to unite with Vishnyovyetski.
In vain did Skshetuski explain to them what glory they
would gain under the leadership of such a general, what ser-
vices they might render the country; they could not be per-
suaded and said that obedience was, for soldiers, the first law
and the first duty. They said also that they would unite with
the Prince in case the safety of their regiments demanded it.
Skshetuski returned with a heavy heart, for he knew how
painful this disappointment would be to the prince, and how
weary and exhausted his regiments were from the marches,
from the continual encounters with the enemy, from the
skirmishing with detached bands and, not least of all, through
wakefulness, hunger, and exertion. Under such circum-
stances, it was almost an impossibility to measure their
strength with that of the enemy, which was ten times greater.
Skshetuski saw, therefore, quite clearly, that a delay must
take place in the expedition against Kshyvonos in order to
give th(. army some rest and to await the influx of fresh
nobles to the camp.

Occupied with such thoughts, Skshetuski returned at the
head of his Semenovs to the prince. He was obliged to go
quietly, carefully, and only at night, in order to avoid Kshy-
vonos's advance guard and also the numerous detached bands,
consisting of Cossacks and blacks, who at times were very
strong. They gathered throughout the whole neighborhood,
set fire to the villages, killed the nobles or captured the fugi-
tives upon the highway. Thus, he passed through Baklay
and came into the thick forests of Msh3miets, that were full of
dangerous ravines and clefts. Fortunately, after a rainfall,
the weather had cleared and the journey was easy. The July
night was glorious, without a moon but lighted by stars. His
Semenovs marched on the narrow forest path, guided by the
Mshyniets foresters; trusty people who knew their forest
thoroughly. A deep silence reigned in the woods, broken
only by the crackling of the dry branches beneath the hoofs
of the horses, when, suddenly, a sound as of distant singing,
interrupted by shouts, came to the ears of Skshetuski and
his men.

"Halt,'* said Skshetuski, softly, stopping his men. ^^What
is that?"

An old forester stepped up to him and said:

"Those are crazy people, who wander about in the woods,

WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 355

and scream. They have lost their reason, through the sight
of the horrors that have occurred. Yesterday, we met a noble
lady, who wanders about, looks at the pine trees and calls
"Children, children!" It is evident that the peasants have
killed her children. And then she stared at us and began to
shriek so that our legs trembled. They say that there are
many such people in all the forests."

Ai though Skshetuski was a knight without fear, a shudder
went through him from head to foot.

"Perhaps they are wolves that are howling like that. One
cannot distinguish it," he said.

"No indeed, sir, there are no wolves in the forests. They
have all gone to the villages where there is enough of dead
bodies."

"Dreadful times," cried the knight, "when the wolves live
in the villages and crazy people howl in the forests. God!
Oh, God!"

For a time, there was silence; one heard nothing but the
rustling in the tops of the pine trees; but, presently, the dis-
tant voices grew louder and more distinct.

"Iley," said the forester, suddenly, "it seems as if there
might be a crowd of men there. Remain standing here, or
move slowly forward, and I and my companions will go and
see what it is."

"Good," said Skshetuski, "we will wait here."

The foresters disappeared and were gone a whole hour.
Skshetuski was beginning to grow impatient and even nour-
ished a suspicion that they were plotting some treachery
against him when, suddenly, one of them sprang from the
darkness.

"It is they, sir," said he, approaching Skshetuski.

"Who?"

"The rebel peasants."

"How many of them are there?"

"There may be about two hundred. I do not know, sir,
what we can do for they are in the narrow pass through which
we must go. They have lighted a fire; we cannot see it from
here, for it is in the valley. They have no sentries; it is
possible to come within an arrow shot away."

"Good," said Pan Skshetuski. Turning to his Semenovs, he
gave orders to two officers. The train moved quickly for-
ward and only the crackling twigs could betray them. No
stirrup struck another; no sword clanked; the horses who were

356 WITH FIRE AND BWORD.

accustomed to stealthy attacks went forward, wolf fashion,
without snorting or neighing. When the men came to the
spot where the road turned, they noticed, at once, the fire
and the indistinct forms of men. Skshetuski now formed his
soldiers into three divisions. One remained here, the other
moved along the narrow path so as to close the opposite en-
trance, and the third dismounted, crept forward on their
hands and knees and lay on the extreme edge of the pass,
immediately above the heads of the peasants.

Skshetuski, who was in this division, saw quite clearly, at a
distance of from twenty to thirty paces, the whole camp. Ten
fires were burning, but they did not flame up, for kettles with
food were hanging over them. The smell of steam and of the
boiling meat came up to Skshetuski and his soldiers. Around
the kettles, stood or lay the peasants drinking and chatting.
Some had vodki bottles in their hands, others carried pikes
on the end of which were placed trophies, heads of men,
women and children; the reflection of the fire revealed their
dead eyes and their gleaming teeth. The same light shone
upon the wild dreadful faces of the peasants. Immediately
beneath the wall of rock some lay asleep, snoring loudly;
others chatted; others raked the fire till it rose in a column of
golden sparks. At the largest fire, with hi^ back to the rocky
wall and towards Skshetuski, sat a stout graybeard and
twanged his lute, around him about thirty peasants had
formed a semicircle.

Skshetuski heard distinctly the following words:
"Hey, dziad, sing about the Cossack Ilolota."
*'No," cried another, "sing of Marusia (Mary) Boguslavka.*^
"To the devil with Marusia! Sing of the pan of Potock,"
cried the greatest number of voices.

The beggar struck the strings of his lute more forcibly,
cleared his throat, and began to sing:

"Stand and observe round thee, thou rich and noble lord,
Soon wilt thou be like the man who possesses nothing
He directs and moves everything, God Himself the merciful.
All our deeds He weighs in his balance uprightly
Stand and observe round thee, thou, who fliest so high,
Above the clouds, thou knowest wisdom, wide and deep.'*

The old man here stopped a moment and sis:hed, and the
peasants sighed with him. The crowd of listeners grew
larger. But Skshetuski, although he knew that his people
must be ready, gave as yet no signal for the attack. The
quiet night, the flickering fire, the wild forms and the un-

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 357

finished song about Pan Nicholas Pototski awakened in the
knight strange thoughts, emotions, and a longing which he
could not explain to himself. The unhealed wounds of his
heart opened afresh. He was seized with a deep sorrow for
what had lately happened to him; for lost happiness; for
those moments of peace and joy. He became plunged in
thought and in reflection. The old man, however, continued
to sing —

Stand and observe round thee, thon who makest war
With arrow and bow, with powder baU and sword
For in olden times also lived warriors and knights.
Who carried the sword and died through the swora I
Stand and observe round thee and give up thy pride.
Thou, from Potock, stridesi boldly to Slavuta
The innocent souls hast thou cruelly slain.
They own council art thou in Polaud
Aud bearest thy sceptre with boldness and might.

And the dziad stopped singing again when, suddenly a
stone grazed the elbow of one of the men and fell to the
ground. Some of the peasants put their hands over their
eyes and looked sharply towards the forest. Then Skshetuski
knew that the time had come, and fired his pistol into the
crowd.

"Strike! Kill!" he cried, and thirty Semenovs fired with
precision and aimed at the peasants' faces, and, immediately
after the shots were fired, they climbed like lightning down
the steep wall of the pass, and plunged into the midst of the
terrified and confused peasants.

"Strike! Kill!" resounded from the entrance to the nar-
row pass. "Strike!" repeated the wild voices farther back.

"Yeremy! Yeremy!"

The attack was so sudden, the panic so terrible that, al-
though the peasants were armed, they offered hardly any re-
sistance. It had already been told in the camp of the rebel
blacks that Yeremy, through the assistance of the evil' one,
was able to be and strike in several places at the same time,
and now his name, which fell so unexpectedly upon the ears of
these who thought themselves secure, sounded like the name
of the evil one, and their weapons fell from their hands.
Besides the spikes and scythes could not be handled in such a
narrow space, for the peasants had run like a crowd of sheep
to the opposite side of the ravine, and cut over the heads and
faces by the swords of their pursuers, trodden underfoot and,
in mad fear, stretching their hands towards the merciless steel
they met their death. The quiet wood was filled with the

358 ^^f'^B ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

calamitous sound of battle. Some sought to flee across the
precipitous wall of the ravine. They climbed up, hurt their
hands and fell back upon the points of the swords. Some
died peacefully; others -bellowed for mercy; others covered
their faces with their hands, so as not to see the approach of
death; others, again, threw themselves upon the earth, face
downwards; and above the clash of swords and the screams of
the dying were drowned by the cry of the assailants "Yeremy!
Yeremy!'' — a cry that made the peasants^ hair stand on end
and rendered the approach of death so much the more ter-
rible.

The old singer, however, struck one of the soldiers such a
blow in the face with his lute that he fell over and, seizing
the others by the hand so as to prevent them from striking
him with their swords, he bellowed like an ox in his terror.

When the rest of the soldiers saw this, they hastened to
the spot to cut him down, but Skshetuski sprang forward.

"Take him alive! Take him alive!" he cried.

"Stop!" roared the old man, "1 am a nobleman, bquor
Inline! (I speak Latin.) I am not a dziad; stop, I tell you!
Robbers! Rascals! Sons of horses!"

But the old man had not finished his litany when Skshetu-
ski looked in his face and screamed; so loud that the walls of
the ravine re-echoed with the sound:

"Zagloba!"

And suddenly fell upon his neck like a wild animal;
clenched his fingers on the old man's arms, pressed his face
against his, shook him as if he were a pear tree and cried:

"WTiere is the princess? Where is the princess?"

"She is alive; she is well; she is in safety!" answered the
old man screaming. "Let me alone, you devil, you're shak-
ing my soul out of me."

Skshetuski was so overcome at the joyful news that he,
whom neither imprisonment nor wounds; pain nor the terri-
ble Burdabut had been able to conquer became suddenly
weak. His hands fell at his sides; great drops of sweat started
on his brow; and he sank on his knees, covered his face with
his hands, leaned his head against the rocky wall and remained
thus in silence — one saw that he was giving thanks to God.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the unfortunate peasants had
been cut down, except some whom they brought bound, in
order to give them over to the executioner in the camp and to
extort confessions from them; the others lay stretcned out
dead.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 339

The battle was over; the noise ceased; the soldiers gath-
ered round their leader and, when they saw him on his knees
beside the rock, they looked at him uneasily, as if they feared
he might have been wounded. But he rose to his feet and
his countenance was as bright as though sunrise was dawn-
ing in his soul.

"Where is she?^^ he asked Zagloba.

"Is she safe?"

"In Bar."

"The castle is strong and fears no attack; she is in the
castle of Panna Slavoshevska with the nuns.'*

"Praised be God the most high," said the knight, and his
voice trembled with deep emotion, "give me your hand: I
thank you from the depths of my soul."

Suddenly, he turned to his men:

"How many prisoners have you?"

"Seventeen," answered the soldiers. Then Sketshuski said:
"A great happiness has come to me and my soul is filled with
compassion; let them go free."

The Semenovs could not believe their ears; that was not
the custom in Vishnyovyetski's army.

Skshetuski slightly frowned.

"Let them go free," he repeated.

The soldiers moved away, but in a few minutes the oldest
sergeant came back and said:

"Lieutenant, you may not believe it, but they do not dare
to go away."

"And are they unbound?"

"Yes.^*

"Then leave them here. Mount your horses."

"Half an hour later, the soldiers defiled along the narrow
forest path amid absolute silence. The moon had risen and
its silver beams pierced through the forest and lighted its
dark depths. Pan Zagloba and Skshetuski rode at the head
and conversed.

"Tell me all you know about her," said the knight. "Then
you took her out of Bohun's hands?"

"Yes, I tied up his head as a farewell token so that he
might not scream for help."

"You did splendidly, as true as I live! But how did you
get to Bar?"

'TEh; I could tell you a good deal about that, and I will
have to tell you some other time. I am frightfully tired and

36o ^^^^ ^'^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

my throat is parched by singing songs for the people. Have
you not something to drink?"

"I have a little jug of brandy; here it is."

Zagloba seized the jug and placed it to his lips and one
heard nothing but a gurgling. Skshetuski, however, in his
impatience could wait no longer and asked:

"In good health?"

"What?" answered Zagloba. "To a dry throat everything
seems healthy."

"But I am asking about the princess."

"The princess, sound as a nut!"

"God be praised and thanked! Is she happy in Bar?"

"She could not be better off in heaven. Everyone loves
her on account of her beauty. Panna Slavoshevska loves her
as her own child, and you could not count on your rosary the
number of lads who are in love with her. But she thinks as
much of them as I now think of your empty jug, and is con-
stant in her love for you."

"God bless her, the darling!" said Skshetuski. "Then she
remembers me with love?"

"Remembers you? I tell you I never could understand
where she found breath for so many sighs. Every one has
compassion for her, especially the nuns, whom she completely
won over by her gentleness. Has she not also compelled me
to all sorts of foolish acts that I have nearly paid for with
my life. I was to find you in any case, in order to let her
know whether you live and are well. She wanted to send
messengers several times but no one dared undertake it until
I finally took pity on her and set out for the camp. If I had
not been disguised, I would certainly have lost my head but
the peasants everywhere took me for a beggar; for I sing
beautifully."

Skshetuski was speechless with joy. A thousand thou2;hts
and remembrances crowded together in his mind. Helena
seemed to stand before his very eyes, just as he had seen her
the last time in Rozloga, immediately before his departure
for Sich. Pretty, slender, blushing, with her velvety black
eyes with their irresistible fascination. Now it seemed to
him as thouprh he saw her, as though he felt the glow that
radiated from her cheeks, as though he heard her sweet
voice. He thought of that walk in the cherry-wood, he
thought of the cry of the cuckoo and of the questions that he
had asked it; and of Helena^s modesty when the cuckoo

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 361

prophecied that she would have twelve sons. His soul went
out from him, his heart was intoxicated with love and bliss;
and all past suffering disappeared, as a drop in the ocean. He
did not know, himself, what this strange feeling was. He
wished to cry aloud, to sink on his knees and thank God
again; then to look back into the past, then to ask, and ask
questions without end. Presently he repeated:

"She lives; she is well?"

"She lives; she is well," answered Zagloba, like an echo.

"And she sent you here?"

"Yes."

"And have you a letter?"

"1 have."

"Give it."

"It is sewed up and now it is night; be satisfied."

"I cannot; you see that sir, yourself.'"

"I see it."

Zagloba's answers became ever more laconic. Finally his
head nodded once or twice, and he was asleep.

Skshetuski saw that there was nothing to be done with him
and he gave himself up again to thoughts. They were only
interrupted through the tramping of horses, evidently a large
division of cavalry that was swiftly approaching. It was
Poniatowski with the prince's own Cossacks which the prince
had sent to meet Skshetuski, fearing that some harm might
have happened to him.

CHAPTEE XIIL

One can easily understand how the prince received the
news of Osinsk's and Korytski^s refusal, which Skshetuski
brought him at daybreak. Things had so happened that it
needed a great soul like that of the iron prince not to col-
lapse; not to despair; not to. let his hands fall at his side.
In vain did he spend an enonnous fortune in maintaining
the army, in vain like a caged lion, did he huri himself this
way and that; in vain did he chop off one head of the rebel-
lion after another; did he perform prodigies of valor; all in
vain! The moment would come in which he would feel his
own poweriessness; would retire somewhere into a peaceful
country, and become mute witness of all that happened in
the Ukraine. And who had condemned him to inaction —
not the sword of the Cossacks, but the apathy of his own
people. Had he not justly hoped, when he moved out in
May from the other side of the Dnieper country, when, like
an eagle, he swooped down from the height upon the rebels;
when, amid the universal fear and confusion, he had raised
his sword above his head, that the whole republic would
speedily hasten to help him and entrust their power to the
avenging sword in his hands. The king was dead and, after
his death, the command had fallen into other hands. He, the
prince, they had ostentatiously forgotten. That was the
first concession they had made toKhmyelnitski. But it was
not on account of offended dignity that the soul of the prince
now suffered, it was at the thought that the downtrodden
Commonwealth had already sunk so low that she retreated
before the Cossack, and preferred to restrain his daring hand
through negotiations. Since the battle at Makhnovka, the
news that reached the camp became more and more unfavor-
able; first, the communication respecting the negotiations that
were being entered into by Pan Kisiel, then the news that
the rebellion had spread over Volhynian Polesia — finally the
refusal of the colonels showed clearly the unfriendly attitude
of the Commander-in-chief Prince Dominik Zaslavski Os-
36s

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 363

trogski towards Vishnyovyetski; and during Skshetuski's ab-
sence Pan Korsh Zienkovich came to the camp with the news
that the whole of Ovruts was in flames. The people there were
peaceful and had taken no part in the rebellion; but the
Cossacks had attacked them and Kshechovski and Polk-
shenjits had compelled the peasants to join his ranks; and
then the noblemen's houses and the towns were set on fire,
and the nobles who did not fiee were cut down; among them
old Pan Yalets, a faithful servant and friend of the house
of Vishnyovyetski. The prince had, therefore, determined,
after uniting with Osinski and Korytski, to destroy Kehy-
vonos and then to march northwards to Ovruch in order to
come to an understanding with the hetman of Lithuania and
thus place the rebels between two fires. But all these plans
were brought to naught through the orders that Prince Dom-
inik had given his two colonels. For, after all his marches,
battles, and fatigues, Yeremy, was not strong enough to
measure his forces with those of Kshyvonos especially as he
could not absolutely depend on the Voyevoda of Kiev, Pan
Janush, who really belonged heart and soul to the peace
party. He had taken service under the authority and com-
mand of Yeremy, and was obliged to accompany him. But
the more he saw that authority weakened the more he was
inclined to oppose the prince's thirst for battle, as will soon
be made evident.

Skshetuski gave an account of his expedition and the
prince listened to him in silence. All the officers were pre-
sent at the audience. All faces lowered when he told of the
refusal of the two colonels and all eyes were directed to the
prince, who said,

"So Prince Dominik sent them orders forbidding them to
come!''

"He did; they showed me his writing."

Yeremy leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face
in his hands. After a while he said:

"This is, in truth, more than a man can bear. Must I work
all alone and, instead of the expected assistance, meet only
with obstructions. Could I not have gone quietly to San*
domir and remained there peacefully on my property. If I
did not do it, it was because I love my country; and this is
now my reward for my labors, for the loss of my fortune, for
blood ..."

The prince spoke quietly; but so much bitterness, so much

364

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

pain trembled in his voice that all hearts were filled with
sorrow. The old colonels, veterans of Putivel, Starts, Ku-
meyka, and the young warriors in the last war, looked at
him with inexpressible anxiety in their eyes, for they knew
well what a hard struggle this iron man was undergoing. How
terribly his pride must suffer from the humiliations that were
heaped upon him. He, the prince, "By the Grace of God,"
— he ,the Voyevoda of Russia, the Senator of the Common-
wealth, must retreat before a Khymelnitski, before a Kshy-
vonos; he, almost a king, who, a short while before, had re-
ceived the ambassadors of the neighboring rulers, was forced
to retreat from the field of honor; in order to shut himselr
up in some little castle and wait for the result of a war that
would be carried on by others, or the conclusion of degrading
negotiations. He, chosen for the highest missions, and filled
with a consciousness of his ability to fulfill them — must now
acknowledge his powerlessness.

The sorrows and the fatigues of the past weeks were evi-
dent in his appearance. He had become much emaciated;
his eyes were sunken; his raven black hair showed streaks of
gray; but a tragic calm overspred his countenance, for his
pride would not allow him to betray his sorrow.

"Ha, let it be as it will," he said, "we will show this un-
grateful mother that we cannot only fight for her but die for
her. By Heavens! I would far rather die a glorious death
in some battle than wage a civil war against these peasants —
but it cannot be otherwise.^'

"My Prince," interrupted the Voyevoda of Kiev, "do not
speak of death, for although God hides from our sight what
may befall us it may yet be a long time before our death.
I respect your warlike genius and your knightly spirit, but I
cannot blame the viceroy, nor the chancellor, nor the mili-
tary officers for endeavoring, through negotiations, to put an
end to this civil war; for we are shedding the blood of
brothers, and from the most determined obstinacy on both
sides; a foreigner, alone, can reap the benefit."

The prince looked long into the eyes of the Voyevoda and
said gravely:

"If you show mercy to the conquered they will receive it
with gratitude and never forget it, but you will only earn the
contempt of the victors. Oh if this people had never been
wronged! But, once the rebellion has been set on foot, it
must be crushed, not by negotiations, but with blood. Other-
wise, disgrace and ruin will be ours."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 365

"Ruin is more certain if we carry on war on our own ac-
count," answered the Voyevoda.

''Does that mean that you no longer wish to accompany
us."

"Your Highness, I call God to witness that I am not act-
ing in bad faith towards you, but my conscience tells me
that I must not give my men over to certain destruction; for
their life is of value and muy yet be of service to the Com-
monwealth."

The prince was silent. After a few moments, he turned to
his oflBcers.

"Old comrades in arms, you will not leave me, will you?"

All the officers, as if impelled by the same power, sprang
towards the prince; some kissed his robes, others clasped his
knees, others raised their hands to heaven and exclaimed:

"We will stand by you to our last breath, to the last drop
of blood."

"Lead us, lead us; we wil serve you without pay."

"My Prince, grant that I may also die at your side," ex-
claimed young Aksak, blushing like a girl.

At this sight, even the Voyevoda of Kiev was touched.
The prince went from one to the other, putting his hand
on each head and thanking them. A tremendous zeal had
filled the hearts of young and old. The eyes of the warriors
gleamed; their hands clutched their swords.

"1 will live with you; I will die with you," said the prince.

"We will conquer," exclaimed an officer. "On to Kshy-
vonos. On to Polonna! He who wishes to leave us may do
so. We will conquer without assistance; we will share neither
glory nor death with anyone."

"Gentlemen," said the prince, "my wish is that before we
march on Kshyvonos we shall take a short rest to restore
our strength. We have now been three months in the saddle;
our bodies are suflFering from the labors, fatigues, and the
inclemency of the weather. We have no horses; our foot sol-
diers are barefooted; we will therefore march to Zbaraj, re-
fresh ourselves and rest. Perhaps some new regiments may
join us, and then we will go with renewed strength into the
battle."

"When does your Highness command us to set out?" asked
Zatsvilikhovski.

"Immediately, old comrade!"

The prince now turned to the Voyevoda.

"And where does your Grace intend to goP'

356 WITH PIRJS AND SWORD.

"To Gliniana, for I hear that the regiments are collecting
there."

"Then we will accompany you to a peaceful region so that
no misfortune may happen to you."

• The Voyevoda answered nothing for he was feeling a little
uncomfortable. He was leaving the prince, and yet the
prince was thinking only of his welfare and offering to ac-
company him. Was there irony in the words? The Voye-
voda did not know. He was of the opinion, however, that the
Prince's officers looked at him with increasing distrust, and it
was evident that in any other, less well-disciplined army,
there would have been an outbreak against him.

He bowed, therefore, and went out. The officers scattered,
each one going to his regiment, in order to prepare for the
march. Skshetuski alone remained with the prince.

"What kind of soldiers are in those regiments?" asked the
prince.

"You cannot find better ones anywhere? The dragoons are
trained after the German fashion and, in the infantry guards,
are only veterans from the Thirty Years' War. When I saw
them I imagined I saw Roman legions before me."

"What's the strength?"

"Two regiments. Three thousand men in all, counting
the dragoon."

"' Tis a pity, a pity. One could do great things with such
regiments."

Sorrow was visible in the features of the prince. After a
pause he said, as though to himself.

"The choice of commanders-in-chief is unfortunate in such
a time of necessity. Ostorog would be all right if war could
be won with eloquence and Latin. Konyetspolski, my
brother-in-law, has the blood of warriors in his veins, but
he is a young man, without experience, and Zaslavski is the
worst of all. I have known him a long time, a man of small
courage, and shallow understanding. His business is to sleep
during the war, not to command armies. No, I will not say
it aloud, or they might accuse me of jealousy, but I do say
terrible times are coming, and now, just now, such men have
taken the rudder in their hands! God, Oh God, spare me
this cup. . . . What will become of the country? When
I think of it, I long for death; for I am very weary and I
say to you, I shall not be with you much longer."

**My soul longs for war but my body lacks strength."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 367

"Your Highness should take more care of your health, for
it is of great importance to the whole country; and one can
see that your labors have pulled down your Highness very
much."

"The country thinks otherwise, as can be easily seen; or
they would not have passed me by. And now, they are taking
the sword out of my hand."

"God grant that when Prince Charles exchanges his
bishop's mitre for a crown, he will know whom to exalt and
whom to punish. But your Hnghness is still powerful
enough to ask help from no one."

"I will go my own way."

The prince probably did not notice that, like the other
petty kings, he desired to carry out a policy of his own; but
even if he had noticed it he could not have acted in any other
manner, for he had only one object in view; that was, to
save the honor of the Commonwealth.

Again, there was a long silence, which was at last broken
by the neighing of horses, and the sound of the bugles. The
regiments were preparing to march. The noise awakened
the prince from his reflections. He shook his head as though
he would cast off his sorrow and his unpleasant thoughts and
then said:

"And did you have a quiet journey?"

"I met in the forest of Mshyniets a large band of peasants,
about two hundred men, whom I destroyed."

"Good, and did you bring back any prisoners, fof that is
also very important."

"I had some prisoners. . . . but — "

"But you have killed them? What?"

^rNo, your Highness, I let them go free."

Yeremy looked at Skshetuski in astonishment; then he
suddenly irowned:

"What does that mean? Do you also belong to the party
of peace? What does that mean?"

"Your Highness, I have brought back an informant;
among the peasants, we found a disguised nobleman, who had
escaped death. I let the others go free because God granted
me mercy and comfort. I will willingly bear the penalty.
This nobleman is Zagloba, who brought me news of the
young princess."

The prince quickly approached Skshetuski.

"She lives; she is well?"

368 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

"Thank God she is/'

"And where did she find refuge r^'

"She is in Bar/'

"That is a strong fortress. My boy!" here the prince
raised his hands, and seizing Skshetuski's head, he kissed
him repeatedly upon the forehead. "I rejoice in your joy,
for I love you as a son."

Pan Yan kissed the prince's hand very heartily and al-
though he would at any time have willingly shed his blood on
Yeremy's account, he felt anew that he would be ready to
spring into the flaines of hell at his command. Thus did the
threatening, terrible Yeremy understand how to win the
hearts of his knights.

"Well, I am not surprised that you let these peasants go.
You shall go unpunished. But this nobleman is quite a char-
acter. So he brought her from the Trans-Dnieper as far as
Bar? Thank God! This is a great comfort to me in these
sad times. He must be a very knowing fellow. Bring this
Zagloba to me!"

Skshetuski flew to the door which, at this moment, sud-
denly opened and Vyershul's red face appeared. He had re-
turned with the Tartar body guard with whom he had been
sent forward.

"My Prince," he cried, breathing heavily. "Kshyvonos has
taken Polonna and slaughtered ten thousand men, women,
and children."

The officers began to assemble again and crowded about
Vyershul. The Voyevoda of Kiev also came up. The prince
stood as if turned to stone, for he had not expected such news.

"But they were only people of Russia who were there. It
cannot be possible."

"Not a soul escaped from the town."

"Do you hear," said the prince, turning to the Voyevoda,
"you want to enter into negotiations with such an enemy,
who does not even spare his own countrymen.."

"Oh, souls of dogs, if this is so, may the devil take them
all. I will go with you, Prince."

"Then you shall be my brother," said the prince.

"Long live the Voyevoda of Kiev," said old Zatsvilik-
hovski.

"Long live unity!"

And the prince turned to Vyershul:

"Whither are they marching from Polonna? Is nothing
known/*

WITH FIRE AND t A^ORD. 369

*T[t seems they are going to Konstantinov/'
"God in heaven! Then Osinski's and Korytski's regiments
are lost, for they cannot get away in time with the infantry.
We must forget the insult, and hasten to help them. To
horse! To horse!"

The face of the prince beamed with joy and a flush over-
spread his thin cheeks; for the road to glory once more lay
open before hini.

24

f

CHAPTER XIV.

The army passed by Konstantinov and halted in Roeolovtsa.

The prince had calculated that when Korytski and Osinski
should receive news of the taking of Polonna, they would be
obliged to retreat to Rosolovtsa and, if the enemy should fol-
low them, it would unexpectedly fall into the hands of the
entire army of the prince, as into a trap, and thus suffer most
ceriain defeat. This calculation was fulfilled, to a great ex-
tent. The army took its stand and waited in readiness for a
battle. Larger and smaller advance guards was sent out on
aJl sides from the camp. The prince remained in the village
with several regiments and waited. . . Towards evening
VyershuFs Tari:ars announced that infantry were coming
from Konstantinov. The prince stepped out from the door
of his quarters surrounded by his officers and, with him
several special attendants, in order to see the approaching
soldiers. Meanwhile, the regiments, after they had been
heralded by trumpet blasts, halted outside the village; and
two colonels hurried at full speed to the prince, in order to
offer him their services. It was Osinski and Korytski. When
they observed Vishnyovyetski and his stately suite of knights,
they became confused, as they were uncertain how thev
would be received. They bowed low and waited in silence
for the prince to speak.

"The wheel of fortune spins and humbles the proud," said
the prince. "You would not accept our invitation and now
you come unsought,"

"Your Highness," said Osinski, boldly, "from our very soul,
we desired to serve under you but the orders were exact. He
who gave them must answer for them. We beg for pardon
although we are guiltless, for, as soldiers, we had to obey in
silence."

"Then has Prince Dominik recalled his orders?" asked
the prince.

"The command has not been recalled," said Ozinski, *T>ut
it no longer binds us; for the only help and safety for our

370

WITH FIRE AND SWORt).

37 i

army lie in your Highnesses mercy and, under your command,
we will henceforth live, sire, and die."

These manly words and the officer's appearance made the
best impression upon the prince and his companions-in-arms.
Osinski was a renowned soldier, and, although still young, for
he was not more than forty, he was already rich in experi-
ence of war, whi^h he had gained in foreign armies. Every
soldier's eyes rested with satisfaction upon him. Tall,
straight as a pine, with a yellow moustache curving upward
and a Swedish beard, he completely reminded one in bearing
and appearance of the commanders in the Thirty Years' War.

Korytski, a Tartar by origin, did not resemble him in the
least. Of small stature and not well proportioned, he had a
gloomy expression and looked strange in the foreign uniform,
which did not suit his Oriental features. He commanded a
regiment of picked German infantry and was noted, as much
for his courage as for his sullenness, and the iron discipline
that he maintained among his soldiers.

"We are waiting for your Highness's commands," said
Osinski.

"I know that the soldier must obey, and if I sent for you it
was because I did not know of the command. From now on,
we will pass many good and bad hours in each other's com-
pany; but I hope that you will like your new service."

"If only your Highness is satisfied with us and our
soldiers."

"Good," said the prince. "Is the enemy far behind you?"

"The vanguards are near but the body of the troops cannot
reach here until early to-morrow."

"Good, then we shall have time. Give your regiments
orders to march across the square, in order that I may see
them and find out what kind of soldiers you have brought me
and if we can do much with them."

The colonels returned to their regiments and shortly came
into the camp at their head. The soldiers of the princess
own regiments came hurrying along like ants to see their
new comrades. At the head were the royal dragoons, under
Captain Ciza, in heavy Swedish helmets with high crests.
They rode matched Podolian horses. The men, newly rested,
dressed in bright, glittering uniforms, were a refreshing con-
trast to the prince's weary, worn out men, whose uniforms
were tattered and faded by sun and rain. Osinski and his
regiment followed them and Korytski's brought up the rear.

372

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

A murimir of praise was heard from the prince's officers at
the sight of the deep ranks of the Germans. Their doublets
were uniformly red; their muskets glittered on their shoul-
ders. They marched thirty abreast and, as one man, with
even, powerful, thundering step. They were all stoutly-built,
broad-shouldered fellows — experienced soldiers who had been
in many countries and many battles; mostly veterans of the
Thirty Years' War, inured to war, well disciplined and ex-
perienced.

As they approached the prince, Osinski called out, "Halt!"
The regiment stood as if rooted to the spot; the officers
raised their staffs in the air; the ensign waved the flag three
times and then lowered it before the prince. "Forward,"
cried Osinski. "Forward," repeated the officers and the regi-
ment moved forward.

In the same manner or even in better form, did Korytski
lead fonvard his men and, at sight of them, all the soldiers'
hearts rejoiced. Yeremy, who was a judge if anyone was,
placed his hands on his sides in his satisfaction and looked
on smilingly; for he was lacking in infantry, and it was cer-
tain that he could find no better ones in the whole world. He
felt strengthened and hoped to be able to carry out great
military undertakings. The officers discussed various mili-
tary matters and the different kind of soldiers that might be
seen in the world.

"The Zaporojian infantry is good, especially in attacking a
fortification,'^ said Sleshinski. "But these fellows carry off
the palm, they are better drilled."

"Bah! much better," said Migurski.

"But they are heavy men," said Vyershul. "If they should
attack me, I would undertake, with my Tartars, to make
them so weary in two days that on the third day I could
slaughter them like sheep."

"What are you talking about? The Germans are valiant
soldiers."

Here Longin broke in in his singing, Lithuanian voice:

"How God the Lord in His mercy has endowed the differ-
ent virtues. I have heard that there is nothing in the whole
world superior to our cavalry; and again that neither we nor
the Hungarian infantry can compare with the Germans."

"Because God is just," said Zagloba, "He has given you, for
instance, a large fortune, a large sword and a heavy hand; but,
to make up for it, very little wit."

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 373

"He has attacked him like a horseleech," said Skshetuski,
laughing.

Pan Podbipyenta blinked his eyes and said with his accus-
tomed good nature:

"That is unpleasan't to hear. He gave you, I should say,
too long a tongue."

"If you think that He has done wrong in giving me such
a one as I have, you will go to Hell with your chastity; for
you are setting yourself up against the will of God."

"Ah! Nonsense, no one can talk you down. You chatter
and chatter."

"And do you know what distinguishes a man from an
animal?"

"Well, what?"

"Reason and speech?"

"Ah! he caught it that time," said Colonel Mokrski.

"If you do not understand why the oest cavalry are among
the Poles and the best foot soldiers among the Germans, I
will explain to you."

"Well, why?" asked several voices.

"See here, when God created the horse he led it out that
men might praise his work. Beside him stood a German, for
they make their way everywhere. God showed him the horse
and asked him in German, ^What is that?' and the German
answered, Tferd.' What, said the Creator, who had heard,
*do you say Pfe^ to my work? You slovenly fellow, you
shall not ride upon this animal and, if you do, it will be the
worse for you.' With these words, he gave the horse to the
Poles. That is why the Polish cavalry is the best. The
Germans then began to hurry along on foot and to beg for-
giveness of God; and that is how they have developed such an
excellent infantry."

"You related that very artistically," said Podbipyenta.

The conversation was interrupted here by a guest, who
came with the announcement that some forces were approach-
ing the camp; that they could not be Cossacks, for they did
not come from Konstantinov, but from an entirely different
direction, from the River Zbrucha. Two hours later, these
same companies approached, with such a blast of trumpets
and beating of drums, that the prince was annoyed, and sent
word to them to keep quiet, as the enemy was in the vicinity.

^Pfe in Polish meanE fie, or pshaw.

3^4 WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

It proved to be a royal cavalry regiment commander, Samuel
Lashch, a celebrated adventurer, a law-breaker, a companion
of gypsies and a bully, but a valiant soldier. He was at the
head of eight hundred men of the same sort as himself; some
of them nobles, some Cossacks, w^ho all would have to hang
if justice were done. But Prince Yeremy did not let himself
be frightened by the unruliness of the soldiers, for he hoped
that, in his hands, they would be transformed into meek
lambs; and compensate, by their courage and bravery-, for all
that they lacked otherwise. It was, therefore, a lucky day.
Only yesterday, through the disaffection of the Voyevoda of
Kiev, the prince had determined to defer the war until troops
should come to his assistance; and to retreat into a quieter
district in order to rest — and, to-day, he stood at the head of
twelve thousand men, and, although Kshyvonos counted five
times as many, yet, as they consisted for the greater part of
blacks, their armies might be considered of equal strength.
The prince thought no longer of rest; he shut himself up
with Lashch, the Voyevoda of Kiev, Zatzvilikhovski, Ma knit-
ski, and Osinski and they took counsel regarding the continu-
ation of the war. It was resolved to give battle to Kshyvonos
on the following morning; and, if he should not advance, to
go and meet him.

It was already dark but, since the last rainfall which had
annoyed the army so dreadfully, at Makhnovka, the weather
had been continuously fine. The golden stars shone in the
dark vault of heaven, the moon gleamed and shone on the
roofs of Rosolovski. In the camp no one thought of sleep-
ing. All were looking forward to the coming battle and pre-
paring themselves for it by singing, according to old custom,
soldiers^ songs and promising themselves great happiness.
The officers and the more distinguished guests were in the
happiest mood. They had gathered round a large camp fire
and were carousing to their heart's content.

"Speak on," they called to Zagloba, "What did you do
when you were on the other side of the Dnieper? And how
did you manage to get to Bar?"

Pan Zagloba emptied a goblet of mead and said:

"Sed jam nox humida coelo praecipitat

Suadentque sidera cadentia somnos

Bed si iantus amor casus cognoscere nostras Incipiam/' . .

My worthy sirs if I should relate to you all, from the be-
ginning, and enter into details, ten nights would not be snffi-

WITH FIRB! AND SWORD. ^yj

cient to do it in, and, certainly, the mead would not hold out;
for an old throat like an old wagon has to be greased.
Enough, if I tell you that I went to Korsun, into the very
camp of Khmyelnitski with the princess and have succeeded
in leading her safely out of that hell."

"Jesus Maria! You must have enchanted them," cried
Volodiyovski?

"Well, yes; I did bewitch them," answered Zagloba, "for I
learned the black art in my young days from a witch in Asia,
who fell in love with me and divulged to me all the mysteries
of witchcraft; but I could not bewitch all of them for I found
my master. Magicians and witches were swarming around
Khmyelnitski. lie has got so many devils in his service that
he goes about among htem as if they were peasants. If he
goes to sleep, a devil takes off his boots. Are his garments
dusty, the devils beat them with their tails and he, when he
is drunk, knocks the teeth down the throat of one or the other
because, he says. You have served me badly.^ "

The pious Longin crossed himself and said:

"The powers of hell are with him; with us the powers of
heaven."

"The T)lacks' would have even betrayed to Bogdan who I
was and whence I came; but I conjured them in such a
manner that they kept their mouths shut. I feared also that
Kmyelnitski would recognize me, for I was with him in Chi-
grin a year ago. We were twice at Dopula^s together. There
were also several other officers whom I recognized; but I had
grown thin, my beard had grown to my waist, my hair fell
over my shoulders, the disguise changed me so that no one
knew me."

"Then you saw Khmyelnitski, and spoke to him?"

"Did I see Khmyelnitski? Exactly as I see you. Did he
not send me as a spy to Podol that I might, on the way, read
his manifesto to the peasants. He gave me a safe conduct
as a protection against the hordes so that I could travel any-
where from Korsun without being molested. If I came
across peasants or Nijovs I held the safe conduct under their
noses and said, 'Smell that, children, and go to the devil.' I
made them give me something good to eat and drink, every-
where I went, and I got it, too, and also a carriage and pair.
And I was very glad of that, for I was thinking continually of
the poor princess who needed a rest after her long fatigue.
I tell you, sirs, before we reached Bar, she looked so fresh

376 ^^^'H FIRE AND SWORD.

again that the people in Bar could not take their eyes oflE her.
There were many pretty girls there, for the nobility has col-
lected there from all quarters; but in comparison with her
they are like owls to a jay. People love her, too, and you
would do so also if you should learn to know her."

"Certainly, it could not be otherwise," said the little Volo-
diyovski.

"But why did you go as far as Bar?" asked Migurski.

"Because I said to myself, that I would not halt until I had
found a safe place. I did not trust the small castles because
I was afraid that the rebellion would come to their doors.
But, if it got as far as Bar it would knock its head against the
wall for Andrew Poniatowski has garrisoned the walls very
strongly and cares as much for Khmyelnitski as I would for
an empty glass. What do you say, gentlemen, have I done
well in remaining so far from the fight? Otherwise Bohun
would certainly have followed me; and, if he had caught me,
I tell you, sirs, he would have made me into mincemeat for
his dogs. You do not know him, but I know him, the devil
take him! I shall have no peace until he is hanged. May
God grant him such a happy ending, Amen! He has cer-
tainly not inscribed anyone so deeply in his black-book as he
has me. B-r-r-r. . . When I thing of it, a cold shudder runs
over me. That is why I take a glass or two, more cften than
I did, although, by nature, I do not care to drink."

"What's that you say?" asked Pan Podbipyenta. "Why
little brother, you drink like a well bucket."

"Do not look into the well, for you will see nothing wise
(the reflection of a donkey); but let that pass. Well, when I
set out with the safe conduct and the manifesto from Khmyel-
nitski, I did not find any great difficulty anywhere. When I
reached Vinnits I found the company of Pan Aksak who is
here in camp, but I did not lay off my beggar's disguise,
because I feared the peasants; but I threw away the mani-
festo."

"There is a strap-maker who is called Suhak who acts as a
spy for the Zaporojians and who sends news to Khmyelnitski.
I sent the manifesto back by this man, but I wrote upon it
such sentences that I am sure Khmyelnitski will flay him
when he reads them. But, in Bar itself, I committed an
indiscretion which nearly ruined me."

'TVhat was it. Tell us?"

"I met some drunken soldiers, wild people, who heard me

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. ^jj

call the princess Tanna/ for I was no longer so cautious, as
we were in the neighborhood of our friends. 'What!' said
they, *what kind of beggar is this. What an extraordintry
boy to whom one says, Panna!' They looked at the princess.
She was as beautiful as a picture. Give her to us they said.
Well, the fight began. 1 put the poor girl into a corner,
placed myself before her, and seized my sword. . . ,"

"That is remarkable," interrupted Volodiyovski, "that you
should carry a sword when you were dressed as a beggar."

"Eh," said Zagloba, "did I have a sword? Who told you
that I had one? I had none. I seized one belonging to the
soldiers that lay upon the table, for the quarrel was in the
inn at Shypintsa. In the twinkling of an eye I had laid out
two of my assailants. They seized their daggers. 'Halt,' I
cried, 'Dogs, I am a nobleman.' They, however, cried, *Stop,
stop! advance guards are coming.' But we soon saw that it
was not advance guards, but Panna Slavoshevska with her
train, whom her son was accompanying with fifty horsemen.
A young fellow. They stopped in front of the soldiers and I
spoke to the lady: She was so moved that the flood-gates of
her eyes were opened; she took the princess into her carriage,
and we got to Bar. But do you think, sirs, that that was the
end of it? Why. ..."

Suddenly Slezinski interrupted the narrative.

"Look yonder sirs," said he, "is that the sunrise or what?"

"It cannot be," answered Skshetuski, "it is still too early in
the day. That comes from Konstantinov."

"Look there, it is getting brighter. It must actually be a
fire."

All faces became earnest. The story was forgotten; all
jumped to their feet.

"The light of a fire! The light of -a fire," several voices
repeated.

"Kshyvonos is coming here from Poloma! Kshyvonos
with his whole army. The advance guard has probably set
fire to the town or the surrounding villages."

The trumpets gave the alarm quietly and at the same mo-
ment old Zatsvilikhovski appeared with other officers.

"Gentlemen," said he, "the scouts have brought news that
the enemy is in sight. We must set out. To your regiments!
To your regiments!"

The officers hastened as quickly as they could to their regi-
ments, the servants put out the fires and soon complete dark-

jyg ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ fifTFOiJD.

ness reigned in the camp. But in the distance, in the di-
rection of Konstantinov the sky became redder and redder
until the stars were finally extinguished by the glow and
again the trumpets sounded softly. The call to mount was
sounded from the mouth piece. The indistinct masses of
men and horses were set in motion. In the darkness was
heard the tramping of horses, the measured tread of the foot
soldiers, and, finally, the heavy rolling of Vurtsers gun car-
riages. From time to time, the clatter of muskets or the
soimd of command was heard. It seemed ominous, uncanny
to march thus imder the shadow of the darkness to the sound
of whispering voices, the clatter of swords, the gleam of
weapons. The regiments moved along the road to Konstan-
tinov and turned in the direction whence the fire glow came,
that looked like a gigantic dragon or serpent creeping along
in the darkness. But the glorious July night was coming to
a close. In Rosolovtsa the cocks were beginning to crow and
to call and answer each other all over the town. Rosolovtsa was
only a mile from Konstantinov and, before the army in their
slow march had made more than half of their way, a pale
morning gleam arose behind the fire glow and filled with
light the woods, ihe forests, the white strip of highway and
the marching army, which had been hidden by the darkness.
One could now see clearly men, horses and dense ranks of
infantry. A cool morning wind was blowing, and waving the
flags above the heads of the knights.

Vyershul's Tartars took the lead, then came Poniatowski's
Cossacks, then the dragoons, Vurtzel's cannon, the infantry,
and, in the rear, the hussars.

Zagloba rode beside Skshetuski, but he was bent over in his
saddle. It was evident that he was filled with apprehension
at the prospect of th'e approaching baittle.

"Pan Skshetuski," he said gently, as though he feared
some one was listening.

"What is it?"

"Will the hussars attack first?"

"You say you are an old soldier and you do not know that
the hussars will be reserved till the battle is about to be de-
cided; until the moment when the enemy puts forth their ut-
most strength."

"I know well, I know, but I wanted to assure myself of it."

They were silent awhile, then Zagloba, in a still lower voic^
asked, "I9 it Kshyvono3 with his whole army?*

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

379

"It is he."

"And how many men does he command?"
"Counting the ^blacks/ sixty thousand men."
"Oh, the devil," said Zagloba.
Skshetuski smiled.

"Do not think, sir, that I am afraid," whispered Zagloba,
"but I have short breath and do not like a crowd. It makes
me warm, and when it is warm I am a lost man. Yes, in a
duel, then one can at least make use of craft but, here, what
good will craft do? It is not the head but the hand that
fights. Here, I am a fool compared with Longin. I have
here in my belt the twelve gold pieces which the prince gave
me. But, believe m^, I would rather my body was some-
where else. . . . Fie, fie, I do not like those great battles.
Plague take them!"

"Nothing will happen to you; take courage."
"Courage! That is just what I am afraid of, that my cour-
age may conquer my common-sense. I am too hot-headed
and Fve already had a bad omen. As we sat by the watch
fire, two stars fell from heaven. Who can tell? Perhaps one
of them is mine?"

"For your good deeds, God will reward you and keep you
safe and sound."

"If he only does not make out my pay too soon."
"Why did you not stay with the baggage wagons?"
"I thought I would be safer with the army."
"So you are. You will see; it will not be much. We are
accustomed to it, and custom is second nature."

"See, here we are at the Sluch and the Vishova Pond."
Indeed the waters of the Vishova Stav separated from the
Sluch by a long dike shone from the distance; the whole
army halted along the line.
"All ready?" asked Zagloba.

"The prince is going to form the ranks," answered Skshe-
tuski.

"I do not like a crowd, I tell you, I do not like a crowd."
"The hussars to the right wing," sounded the voice of the
aid whom the prince had sent to Skshetuski.

It was bright daylight. The glow of the fire had paled in
the light of the rising sun. Its golden beams played on the
tips of the hussars' lances and looked as though a thousand
flames were gleaming above the heads of the knights. When
the ranks were formed, the army, no longer hidden, sang in
chorus, "Hail, 0 ye portals of salvation!"

gSo WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

The mighty sound resounded across the dewy fields, was
thrown back by the pine forests, and its echo rose to heaven.
At length on the opposite bank of the ditch, a black swarm
of Cossacks appeared, stretching as far as the eye could reach.
Regiment after regiment of Zaporojians on horseback armed
with long lances; the infantry with muskets, and the mass
of the peasantry with scythes, flails and hay forks in their
hands. Behind them lay in the mist the gigantic baggage
train exactly like a town in motion. The creaking of thou-
sands of carriages and the neighing of horses reached even
the ears of the princess soldiers. The Cossacks however
moved on without their accustomed noise, and without shout-
ing, on the other bank of the ditch. The two opposing
powers observed each other for a long time in silence.

Zagloba, who kept close to Skshetuski, looked at this sea
of men, and murmured:

"Jesus Christ! Why hast thou created such a number of
these ragamuffins!

"That must be Khymelnitski himself with the 'Slacks"
and their lice. Is not that simple madness. Tell me. They
will cover us with their caps. It was formerly so beautiful in
the Ukraine! How they surge on and ofi. May the devil
take them. May they be surged into hell! And all those
who are against us. May they die of the rot."

"Do not curse, it is Sunday."

"Truly, to-day is Sunday. It will be better to think about
God. Pater Noster, qui est in coelis. . . . One cannot ex-
pect any respect from this pack. . . . Sanctificetur nomen
tuum. . . . What will happen in this ditch! Adveniat
regnum tuum. . . . My breath is going. . . . Fiat
voluntas tua. . . . May you die, you man killers. Look
over there, what is that?"

A division of some hundred men had separated from the
black mass and were moving in disorder towards the moat.

"That is the artillery," said Skshetuski. "Soon our men
will go to meet them."

"Will the battle begin then?"

"As certain as God is in heaven.* '

"May the devil take them. ..." Zagloba's dissatisfaction
here, knew no bounds. "And you are looking at it just as if
it was a theatre in Lent," cried he angrily to Skshetuski, "not
as if your life was in danger."

"As I told you, we are accustomed to it"

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 33 j

"And are you going forward also to the carnage?"

"It is not suitable for the knights of high rank to fight
hand to hand with such an enemy, and no one does it who
values his dignity. But in these times, one does not think
of his dignity.

"Ours are already going forward," cried Zagloba as he saw
8 long line of Volodiyovski's dragoons galloping toward the
moat.

Some volunteers from each regiment followed him, among
others, the red Vyershul, Kushel, Poniatovski, and the two
Karvishovs and, from the hussars, Longin Podbipyenta.

The space between the two divisions became considerably
less.

"You'll witness some fine things," said Skshetuski to Za-
globa. "Observe particularly Volodiyovski and Longin —
those are famous knights! Do you see them?"

"Certainly I do."

"Then look, you too will long for itP

CHAPTER XV.

But when the fighters had come closer to one another, they
reined in their horses and began to attack each other with
words.

"Come onl Come on! We shall soon feed the dogs on
your carrion/' cried the prince's soldiers.

"Yours is not good enough for the dogs!"

'TTou will rot in this fish pond, contemptible knaves!"

"Whoever is ordained to rot here will do so. The fish will
immediately eat you."

"To the dung heap with your pitch forks, peasant fools!
They suit you better than the sword does."

"If we are common peasants our sons will be nobles for
they will be brought into the world by your daughters."

A Cossack, evidently from the Dnieper country, stepped
forward and held his hands to his mouth and cried in a
powerful voice:

"The prince has two nieces. Tell him to send them to
Kshyvonos."

Volodiyovski became almost blind with rage when he heard
this insult and he dashed towards the Zaporojians on his
horse.

Skshetuski recognized him in the distance, from where he
stood, at the right wing of the hussars and cried to Zagloba:

"Look; Lookl Volodiyovski is runing, Volodiyovski is
running. There — there !"

"I see," cried Zagloba, "he has already reached them. Now
they are struggling, one, two, it is all over with them. I see
distinctly. Ho, ho, that is a fighter, may the devil catch
me!"

At the second blow, the insulting fellow had been struck
to the ground like lightning. His head was turned to his
own companions, as if for an evil omen.

A second sprang forward, dressed in a red Kontush that
he had stolen from a nobleman. He attacked Volodiyovski
from the side, but his horse stumbled just at the moment
382

WITH FIRE AND SWOBD. 383

when he was going to strike a blow. Volodiyovski turned
towards him and now could be recognized the master. He
moved his hand with an easy, hardly perceptible motion and
the sword of the Zaporojian flew into the air. Volodiyovski
grabbed him bv the neck and dragged him and his horse over
alongside his •own horse.

"Brothers, save me," cried the prisoner, but the man did
not offer any resistance for he knew that, should he attempt
it, he would be pierced by the sword, he put spurs to his
horse in order to escape — ^and so Volodiyovski dragged him
off, as a wolf might drag a kid.

At this sight, some tens of warriors began the attack on
either side. There was hardly room for more men beside the
wide moat. They attacked each other in single combat, man
struggled with man, horse with horse, sword with sword and
it was a wonderful sight, this row of men in single combat,
upon which both armies gazed with eager eyes and prophesied
through their success the farther consequences of the war.
The morning sun lighted up the combatants, and the air was
so clear that one could almost distinguish the faces on both
sides.

In the distance one might have thought it was a tourna-
ment or a pastime; but from time to time a corpse fell into
the gleaming surface of the water that splashed in golden
sparks and then formed little waves which moved farther and
farther away.

The courage and eagerness for war increased in both armies
when they saw the bravery of their knights. They each sent
wishes and good luck to their own side. Suddenly, Skshe-
tuski clapped his hands, so that his gauntlet rang, and cried:

"Vyershul is lost! he and his horse have fallen! Look!
he has fallen to the ground, he was sitting on that white one."

But Vyershul was not lost although he had fallen, together
with his horse, for the gigantic Pulyan, a former Cossack in
Prince Yeremy's army and to-day second in comand to Kshy-
vonos had overthrown him. He was a renowned skirmisher
and always took part in a fight. He was so strong that he
could break two horseshoes at once, with the greatest ease;
and was considered invincible in single combat. After he
had overthrown Vyershul he sprang through the crowd,
towards the brave officer Korosklakhisits and cut him fear-
fully close to the saddle; the rest drew back frightened.
When Longin saw this he turned his Lithuanian mare to-
wards Pulyan.

384 ^^STF FIRE AND 8W0RD.

"You will find your fate," cried Pulyan, looking at the
venturesome man.

"What is to be done?" said Longin and raised his sword for
the stroke.

He, however, had not his cowl- trencher with him fo' he
had reserved it for a higher purpose than single combat, ^e
had left it in the care of a servant who had remained bel id
with the rear guard. He had only a slender sword wit.i a
bluish blade ornamented with gold tracery. Pulyan stood ll:he
first blow, although he saw that he had to deal with a re-
markable opponent and his sword trembled in his hand; but
he stood the second, and the third stroke. Then, however,
whether it was that he recognized the greater ability of liis
opponent or that he wished to show off his enormous strength
before his friends and his enemies, or whether, being forced
to the edge of the ditch, he feared to be pushed into the water
by Longin's enormous steed — whatever was the motive, after
he had received the last blow he closed with his assailant
and put his powerful arm around him, and they hugged each
other like two bears who are contending for a female. They
intertwined like two fir trees growing from a single trunk,
whose branches blend and form a single tree.

Everyone held his breath and looked in silence at the com-
bat of these two warriors, each of whom was considered by
his own men to be the more powerful wrestler. They ap-
peared to have been transformed into one man, for they re-
mained for a long time immovable; but their faces grew red
and it was only by the veins which swelled out on their fore-
heads and by the bowed backs like bows that one could recog-
nize the enormous, superhuman strength of the arms that
were holding each other in this iron embrace.

Finally, both began to gasp; but, gradually, Longings face
became redder and the face of the Cossack leader assumed a
blue tint. Only a little while longer. The impatience of the
onlookers increased. Finally, a dull, muffled tone broke the
silence.

"Let go.'*

"No, little brother,* 'answered the other voice.

A moment longer, then there was a horrible rattling, a
sigh rose in the air, as though it came from beneath the
earth; a stream of blood flowed from Pulyan's mouth and
his head fell on his shoulder. Longin lifted him out of the
saddle and, before the onlookers had time to reflect on what

THE FIGHT BEGAN ALONG THE WHOLE LINE.

W^»//i Fire and &ivord.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 385

had happened, he threw him -across his own horse and gal-
loped back to his men.

"Viva!" shouted Vishnyovyetski's soldiers.

"Death to him!" answered the Zaporojians.

The death of their leader did not throw the Zaporojians
into confusion. They attacked their opponents only the
more fiercely. Now began the fight between the masses; a
fight that was all the more furious on account of the space in
which they had to fight and, in spite of their courage, the
Cossacks would have been at the mercy of the better military
training of their opponents, if a trumpet blast fom Kshy-
vonos^ camp had not recalled them.

They at once returned to their camp. Their opponents
remained a moment on the spot in order to show that they
were the victors and then returned to their own quarters.
The ditch was deserted. There only remained behind dead
bodies of men and horses, as a prophecy of that which was
to happen. This path of death lay dark and gloomy between
the two armies. A light wind ruffled the smooth surface of
the lake and moaned complainingly through the foliage of
the willows which stood here and there along the banks of the
lake.

Meanwhile K&hyvonos* regiments advanced like innumer-
able flocks of crows and ravens. In the first rank were the
"blacks," then the disciplined Zaporojian infantry, the cav-
alry, the Tartar volunteers, the Cossack artillery, and all
without any special order. One regiment crowded another;
they advanced head over heels, for they wished by force of
numbers to storm the moat, and then to turn the water into
it and drown the prince's army. The wild Kshyvonos be-
lieved in fists and swords; not in the art of war. Therefore
he pushed forward with all his might to the attack, and com-
manded the hindmost regiments to press forward on the
others so that they might be forced to advance, even against
their will. The cannon balls hissed and plashed in the water
like strange water fowl, without however doing any harm to
the princess forces who were stationed at some distance on
the other side of the lake, in the form of a chess board. The
flood of men streamed across the ditch and went steadily for-
ward; a portion of them had reached the river and sought
to find means of crossing it but, as they could not do so, they
returned to the dike, and were packed so closely that, as
Osinski expressed it later, one could have ridden over

25

386 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ SWORD.

their heads; and they covered the whole dike so that not an
inch of room was to be seen.

Yeremy was looking on from the high bank. He knitted
his brows and shot fiery glances at the crowd. When he
saw the disorder and the wild crowding of Kshyvonos' regi-
ments, he said .to Colonel Makhnitski:

"How the peasants go for the enemy, leaving all military
art out of consideration. They look as if they were going
hunting, but will not catch us."

Meanwhile, however, as if to challenge his words, they had
reached half way to the ditch and they halted, astonished
and uneasy, at the inaction of the prince's army. But, just
at this moment, there was a movement in the army; and they
drew back and left a broad empty semicircle, which was to
be the field of battle.

Then Korytski's infantry separated in two divisions and
exposed Vurtzel's cannon which was directed towards the
ditch and in the angle formed by the river and the ditch
gleamed among the reeds on the bank, the muskets of the
Germans under Osinski.

It was at once evident to a soldier, upon which side the
victory must incline, and only a mad leader of the bands,
like Kshyvonos would undertake a battle under such circum-
stances. With. all the strength he possessed Ke could not
have forced a passage if Vishnyovyetski had desired to hinder
him.

But the prince had intentionally resolved to let a portion
of his forces cross the ditch, in order to surround them and
destroy them. The great leader made use of the blindness
of his opponent, who seemed to pay no attention to the fact
that if his own men wished to fight on the other bank he
would not be able to hasten to their assistance except across
a very narrow path, on which it would be impossible to lead
any considerable number of troops. Therefore men experi-
enced in war beheld with astonishment this move of Kshy-
vonos whom nothing obliged to take this mad step.

Nothing but ambition and thirst for blood, obliged him.
The Cossack leader had learned that Khymelnitski was
anxious about the result of the battle with Yeremy, in spite
of the superiority of the forces that Kshyvonos commanded
and that he was coming with his forces to their assistance.
Kshyvonos had received orders not to undertake a battle but,
just for that reason, he resolved to fight one, and made
all the more haste to do so.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, -gy

After he had taken Polonne, he had acquired a taste for
bloodshed and wished to carry on his work alone. This was
why he was in such a hurry. Even if he did sacrifice half
his men, what did that matter? With what remained, he
could overpower the small forces of the prince and cut them
down to the last man. He would take Yeremy's head as a
present to Khmyelnitski.

Meanwhile, the mass of the "blacks" had reached the end
of the dike which they passed, and flooded the semicircle
which Yeremy's army had cleared. But, at this moment,
Osinki's concealed infantry fired on their flank. A long
stream of smoke came from Vurtsel's cannon, the earth shook
with thunder and the fight began along the whole line.

Smoke hid the bank of the Sluch, the pond, dike and the
battlefield itself; so that one could see nothing; only at times
the red uniforms of the dragoons gleamed through the mist,
or the crests of the helmets, amid the surging terrible crowd.
All the bells in the town were ringing and their tones mingled
with the heavy roar of the cannon. Fresh regiments poured
from the camp towards. the ditch.

Those, however, who had crossed it and reached the other
side of the lake stretched out in a moment and formed a
long line which attacked the prince's forces in a fury of rage.
The battle was raging from one end of the lake to the bend
of the river and to the marshy meadowlands which were
under water this wet summer. The "blacks'* and the Nijs
must conquer or die; for they had at their backs the water,
towards which the attack of the infantry and of the prince's
cavalry crowded them.

As the hussars drove forward, Zagloba, in spite of his
short breath and his dislike for crowds, rode with the rest;
for he could not do otherwise unless he wished to expose
himself to the danger of being trampled under foot. He
dashed forward, therefore, with his eyes closed, and thoughts
flew through his head lightning-like, the thought, "ariifice
is of no use, it is of no use! The fool wins, the wise man
loses!" Then he was seized with a rage against war, against
the Cossacks, against the hussars, against everything in the
world. He began to curse — and pray. The wind whistled in
his ears, stopped his breath. Suddenly, his horse stumbled
against something. He noticed the resistance, opened his
eyes, and what did he see? Scythes, swords, flails, a mass of
flushed faces, eyes, moustaches. ... all was indistinct.

388 WITH FIRE ASD SWORD,

He did not know to whom they belonged; they were all
trembling, twitching, raging. He was seized with a terrible
hatred for the enemy because they had not all gone to the
devil; because they just appeared under his eyes and obliged
him to fight. "Whether you wish it or not, you shall have
it/' and he began to hack round him on all sides. Xow, he
cut the air with his sword, now he felt that it cut through
something soft. At the same time he was aware that he yet
lived; that gave him unusual courage. "Fight! Kill!" he
bellowed like a bison. Presently the angry faces disappeared
from his sight and he saw a crowd of backs, caps and the
noise nearly deafened him.

"They are retreating,*' suddenly came to his mind, "yes,
80 it is."

Then he grew perfectly furious.

"Thieves," he cried, "do you dare oppose the nobles, and
he dashed among the fugitives, pas.<ed many of them,
mingled among the dense crowd and began, with great
presence of mind, to set to work. Meanwhile, his companions
had forced the Nij people towards the bank of the Sluch,
which was thickly grown with trees, and had driven them
along the bank to the ditch without taking one of them
prisoner. They had no time for that.

Suddenly Zagloba remarked that his horse was quaking
onder him and, at the same moment, some heavy object fell
on him and covered his entire head, so that it grew perfectly
dark around him.

"Help!" cried he, digging his heels into his horse, but the
horse only grunted beneath the weight of his rider and re-
mained perfectly still.

Zagloba heard a noise, the cries of the cavalry dashing
past him, then the storm seemed to be lulled and all was
silent.

Again thoughts darted through his mmd, with the speed of
a Tartar arrow, "What is it? What has happened? Jesus
Maria! I have been made prisoner."

Great drops of sweat started out on his forehead. Evi-
dently, his head had been wrapped up; just as he had once
wrapped up Bohun's. The weiglit that he felt on his arm
was the hand of a Cossack, but why did they not take him
away? Why did they not kill him? Why did he remain
standing in one spot?

*Tjet go, villain," he cried in a choked voice.

WITH FIRE A2JD SWORD.

389

All was silent.

"Let go villain, I will give you your life/'

There was no answer.

Once more Zagloba dug his spurs into his horse, but again
without any result. The frightened animal spread his legs
apart and stood more firmly on the same spot.

Then the unhappy horseman become furiously angry. He
pulled his knife from the sheath which hung at his belt and
made several thrusts in the air around him.

But the dagger cut only the air.

Then Zagloba dragged with both hands at the cloth that
was over his head, and tore it away in a moment.

"What does it mean?"

The Cossacks are not there. The place around him is
deserted. Only, in the distance, could be seen through the
smoke the red uniform of Volodiyovski's dragoons, as thev
dash along; and, a hundred paces beyond them, the armor of
the hussars who were following those that remained and
were forcing them from the field into the water. But at Za-
globa's feet lay the regimental colors of the Zaporojians.
Evidently the fleeing Cossacks had thrown them away so that
the staff struck Zagloba's shoulder, and the bunting coiled
about his head. When he saw this and understood it clearly
Zagloba came to himself again.

"Aha!" he said, "have I not captured the flag? I really
did take it. If justice is not defeated in this battle, I am
sure of a reward in any case. Oh, you peasant fools, it was
fortunate for you that my horse stumbled. I did not know
myself when I believed that I could accomplish more with
cunning than with courage. I can be of some better use in
the army than in eating biscuits. Oh, my God, there comes
a band of Cossacks! Not this way, you dogs, not this way!
May the wolves devour the horses — fight! kill!"

A fresh band of Cossacks were indeed coming towards
Zagloba, and bellowing with unearthly voices; and close at
their heels were Poniatovski's heavy cavalry. Zagloba would
certainly have met his death beneath the hoofs of their
horses, if Skshetuski's hussars, having forced the fugitives
into the water and drowned them, had not just then re-
turned in order to attack the approaching divisions on both
flanks. When the Zaporojians saw them, they plunged into
the water to escape the sword, and found their death in the
marshes and deep lagoons. Others who had sunk to their

390 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

knees and were entreating for mercy, died from sword
thrusts. A horrible slaughter ensued; most horrible in the
dike. All the divisions which had succeeded in reaching the
other side had been destroyed in the semicircle which the
Prince's army had formed. Those who had not yet crossed,
fell beneath the continuous fire of Vurtzel's cannon and the
volleys of the German infantry. They could neither advance
nor retreat for Kshyvonos was continually sending forward
fresh regiments who crowded those before them and thus
blocked the only way for flight. One might have thought
that Kshyvonos had made a vow to drive his own people to
destruction. They crowded each other, stifled each other,
fell over one another, sprang on all sides into the water and
were drowned. On one end was a black crowd of fugitives,
on the other an advancing crowd. In the midst of mounds
and piles of corpses, groans, cries, unearthly sounds, terror,
madness, chaos. The whole lake was filled with bodies of
men and horses. The water overflowed the banks.

From time to time the cannon were silent. Then, from
the embankment, as from the mouth of a cannon, crowds of
Zaporojians and of peasants poured forth and ran in all di-
rections and right on the swords of the cavalry who were
charging towards them. Vurtsel began his game afresh, and
covered the embankment with a hail of of iron and lead, thus
repulsing the troops that were hastening to the rescue. Whole
hours passed in this bloody struggle. Kshyvonos raged and
foamed, but did not count the battle lost as yet, and drove
thousands of his men into the jaws of death.

On the other bank stood Yeremy in his silver armor, erect
on his horse on the high hill which in those days was called
Kruja Mogila — ^and looked down.

His face was peaceful; his eyes took in the whole dike; the
lake, the banks, the smoky distance, the banks of the Sluch,
and wandered in the direction where wrapped in blue mist,
stood the huge camp train of Kshyvonos. The eyes of the
prince did not move from the crowd of wagons. Presently he
turned to the fat Voyevoda of Kiev and said:

"We will not take the tabor to-day."

"What? Your Highness wishes to? —"

"Time passes rapidly; it is too late. The evening is almost
here."

The battle from the time that the skirmishers had begun
it, through Kshyvonos obstinacy, had lasted so long that the

WITH FIRE AND SWORD, 391

sun had had time to travel through the whole arch of heaven
and was now about to set. Light summer clouds that be-
tokened a clear day were scattered like white fleeces over the
sky, and began to be tinged with red, and to disappear in
masses from the horizon. The stream of Cossacks towards
the embankment gradually ceased and the regiments who had
already reached it fled in fright and disorder.

The battle had come to an end because the angry crowds
had finally attacked Kshyvonos, howling in despair and rage:

"Traitor! You are destroying us. Bloodhound, we our-
selves will bind and give you over to Yeremy for having sold
our lives thus. Deatli to you, not to us!"

"To-morrow I will give you the prince and his whole army
or I will die myself," answered Kshyvonos.

But this expected morrow had yet to come, and the present
day was a day of defeat, of calamity. Many thousands of the
bravest Nij Cossacks, not counting the peasantry, lay stretched
on the field of battle or were drowned in the pond or in the
river. Nearly two thousand were taken prisoners. Fourteen
colonels had fallen, a hundred captains, esauls, and other
leaders. The second in command to Kshyvonos, Pulyan, had
fallen into the hands of the enemy alive, but with his ribs
broken.

"To-morrow we will kill them all," repeated Kshyronos.
"I will take neither gorzalka nor food in my mouth till that
time comes."

Meanwhile, in the opposite camp, the captured flags were
being laid at the feet of the terrible prince. Each soldier who
had taken one threw it down, so that there was a whole heap
of them, as many as forty; and as it came to Zagloba's turn
he threw his down with such force and such a noise that the
pole broke. When the prince saw this, he detained him and
asked:

"Did you capture this standard with you own hands?"

"At your service, your Excellency."

"I see then that you are not only Ulysses but also Achilles."

^^ am a common warrior, but I serve under Alexander of
Macedon."

"As you receive no pay, the treasurer shall give you two
hundred gold pieces for your praiseworthy act."

Zagloba clasped the prince's knees and said:

"Your Highness, this favor is greater than my couTage,
vhieb prefers to hide iteelf behind its own modesty."

392

WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

A hardly perceptible smile played over Skshetuski's dark
face, but the knight was silent and never told any one, either
the Prince or any of the rest, about Zagloba's uneasiness
before the battle. But Zagloba strode away with such a de-
termined air that the soldiers of the other regiments, as they
saw him, pointed him out to their comrades and said:

"He is the one who did the best service to-day."

Night had come. On both sides of the river and of the lake,
a thousand watch fires flamed and clouds of smoke rose like
columns in the sky. The weary soldiers refreshed themselves
with food and gorzalka or, through the recital of the day's
deeds, inspired themselves with courage for the battle on the
following day. The most talkative of all was Zagloba, who
was glorifying himself for what he had done, and on account
of what he might have done if his horse had not stumbled.

"I tell you, sirs," he said, turning to the prince's officers
and to the noblemen of Tyshkyevich's company. "Great bat-
tles are nothing to me. 1 have witnessed many of them in
Moldavia and in Turkey. If I sometimes held back it was
because I feared not the enemy, who would fear the peasants!
— ^but my own ardor, which was apt to lead me too far."

"So it led you too far?"

"How did it? Ask Pan Skshetuski. As soon as I saw Pan
Vyershul fall from his horse, I wanted immediately to rush
to his assistance. My comrades held me back with difficulty."

"That is true," said Skshetuski. "We had to hold you by
the arm."

"But," interrupted Karvich, "where is Vyershul?"

"He is already gone forward with the scouts; he doesn't
know what rest is."

"Observe, gentlemen," said Zagloba, annoyed at having his
story interrupted, "how I captured this flag. ..."

"Then Vyershul is not wounded," asked Karvich again.

"It is not the first that I have taken in my life, but no other
cost me so much trouble."

"He is not wounded, but bruised," answered Azulevich, a
Tartar, . . . "and drank water; for he fell head foremost
into the pond."

"I am only surprised that the fish did not die," said Zag-
loba angrily, "for such a fiery head must have made the water
boil."

"But he is a great knight!"

"Not such a great warrior, a Pulyan (half a John) w«w
^pough for him/'

With fire and sword, ^g^

'Tshawl One cannot talk in peace to these men. You
might have learned from me haw to capture an enemy's flag."

Young Pan Aksak, who at this moment approached the
camp fire, interrupted his speech.

'*I bring news," he said, with his ringing boyish voice.

"The nurse has not washed his swaddling clothes; the cat
has drunk his milk and broken the saucer," grunted Zagloba.

But Pan Aksak did not trouble himself about these reflec-
tions on his youth, and said:

"They are roasting Pulyan at the fire. ..."

"Then the dogs will have roast meat, interrupted Zagloba.

"And he is making confessions. The negotiations are
broken off. The Lord of Bratslav is beside himself. Khmyel-
nitski is coming to the help of Kshyvonos with his whole
army."

"Khmyel! What Khmyel?^ Who cares anything for
Khmyel here. We laugh at Khmyel," gabbled Zagloba, let-
ting his eyes wander threateningly and proudly over the com-
pany.

"So Khmyel is coming! But Kshyvonos did not wait for
him and therefore lost the battle." ....

"The fool has played and played till he has lost."

**Six thousand Cossacks are in Makhnovkft already. Bohun
is at their head."

"Who? Who?" asked Zagloba with a complete change of
tone.

"Bohun!"

"Impossible!"

"So Pulyan confesses."

"There you have the confirmation," cried Zagloba plain-
tively. "Will they be here soon?"

"In three days. As they are coming to begin a battle, how-
ever, they will not hurry too much, so as not to exhaust the
horses."

"But I will hurry," grunted Zagloba. "Oh, Angel of God,
save me from this rascal! I would willingly give back my
captured flag if this villain would only break his neck before
he reached here. I hope that we shall not have to wait here
long. We have shown Kshyvonos what we can do and now
we ought to take a little rest. I hate this Bohun so intensely,
that I cannot hear his devilish name without horror. I did

J Khmyel—hops.

394

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

a fine thing! Why could I not have remained in Bar? The
devil brought me here "

"Do not be afraid/' whispered Skshetuski to him, "it is a
shame. There is no danger with us."

"No danger? You do not know him. Perhaps he is already
creeping between the watch-fires to attack us." Here Zag-
loba looked around him uneasily. "And he is just as eager to
catch you as to catch me."

"God grant that I may meet him!" said Skshetuski.

"If that is a favor, I would rather not experience it. As a
Christian, I will willingly forgive him all injuries; but only
on one condition, that he shall he hanged two days before
hand. I am not afraid of him, but you cannot imagine what
an extreme disgust takes possession of me. I like to know
with whom I have to deal. With a nobleman, as with a noble-
man; with a peasant, as with a peasant; but he is the very
devil himself, with whom one does not know how to act. I
dared to do a great many things to him; but what eyes he
made at me when»I tied up his head! I cannot begin to de-
scribe it to you. I shall think of him even at the hour of
my death. I do not want to wake the devil when he is asleep;
once is enough for me. I will only tell you one thing, that
you are ungrateful and do not trouble yourself about a poor
fellow like me "

"Why, how's that?"

"Because," said Zagloba, pulling the knight away from the
watch fire, "you give yourself up to your warlike moods and
your imaginations and fight and fight; while she is wasting
away in tears day by day and is waiting in vain for your
answer. No other man would act like that. He v/ould have
sent me to her long ago if he really had true love in his heart
and compassion for her anxiety."

"Then do you think of going back to Bar?"

"I would like to go to-day, for I am sorry for her."

Pan Yan raised his eyes, full of longing, to the stars; and
said to Zagloba:

"Do not blame me for inconstancy. God is my witness that
I never put a morsel of bread in my mouth, never allow my
tired body any rest, without thinking of her; and no one
can be more constantly in my thoughts than she is. I did not
send you with an answer, for the simple reason that I ex-
pected to go there myself; to give myself up to my love and
to unite myself to her forever, without delay. There is not

WITH FIRE AND SWORD,

395

in the whole world a pair of wings such as I would desire to
have, in order to fly to my little one."

"Why do you not fly?"

"Because it would not be honorable to go before the battle
takes place. I am a soldier and a nobleman, and must con-
sider my honor. . . "

"But to-day is after the battle, ergo ... we can go away,
even this very moment."

Pan Yan sighed.

"To-morrow we will attack Kshyvonos."

"See here, I do not understand this. You have beaten
young Kshyvonos, when along comes old Kshyvonos. Now
you will beat old Kshyvonos, and then comes young . . .
young ... I will not open my mouth to speak the word,
Bohun. Then you will beat him, and then comes Khmyel-
nitski. What the devil! If it goes on like this much longer,
you had better unite with Pan Podbipyenta. There would be
a fool with his chastity, plus Pan Skshetuski, in sum, two
fools with chastity. Give us peace, sir, by God! I will be the
first to tamper with the princess and when Pan Audrey Potot-
ski spies her, he distends his nostrils and neighs like a horse.
Pshaw! The devil! If a young boy, who had never fought a
battle and wished to earn his first fame, said that to me, I
might understand it; but not you who have drunk your blood
like a wolf and. as is related, killed a devilish dragon or
man-eater at Makhnovka. I swear by this heavenly moon,
you are not sincere; or you have got so thirsty for blood that
you prefer it to your bride."

Skshetuski looked up involuntarily at the moon, which was
sailing like a silver boat in the high starry heavens above the
camp.

"You are mistaken," he said, after a pause, "I have no
pleasure in blood and I am not anxious for glory, but it does
not ])ecome me to leave my comrades in a dire strait, in which
the regiment, without exception, must do battle. Knightly
honor demands it; it is a sacred matter. As regards the war,
however, it will certainly continue, for the rebel T^lacks^ have
inrronsed enormously. Meanwhile if Khmyelnitski comes to
Kshyvonos' assistance, there will be an interruption. We
shall either conquer Kshyvonos to-morrow or we shall not. If
we conquer him, he will, with God's help be disciplined; and
then we shall have to move into a more peaceful country, in
order to get a little breath. Two moons have passed and we

396 ^^TH FIRE AND SWORD.

have not slept or eaten; but fight, fight; no roof over our heads
day or night and exposed to all the inclemencies of the
weather. The prince is a great commander, but he is also cau-
tious. He will not attack Khmyelnitski with a few thousand
men against hundreds of thousands. I know also that he is
going to march to Zbaraj. There he will gather new forces,
collect fresh soldiers, the nobility will come to him from all
over the Commonwealth and only then shall we fight a de-
cisive battle. To-morrow, then, will be the last day of work;
and the day after to-morrow I can go with you to Bar with a
clean conscience, and I will tell you this for your comfort, that
Bohun cannot be here to-morrow to take part in the battle.
But should he do so, I hope that his peasant's star will pale
not only beside that of the prince but also beside mine."

"He is Beelzebub himself. I told you I did not like crowds,
but he is worse than a crowd. Although, I repeat, I do not
feel fear for him so much as an aversion, which I cannot over-
come; but, well, no more of that! To-morrow we will tan the
peasant^s hides and then, hurrah, to Bar! Oh, how those
pretty eyes will laugh at sight of you! Oh, how those little
cheeks will glow! I must tell you, sir, that I am longing to
see her too, for I love her as a father, and is it any wonder?
Legitime natos, I have none. My property is far away; in
Turkey, where the heathen agents have stolen everything
from me. I live like an orphan in the world and, in my old
age, I shall be obliged to go to Pan Podbipyenta, to his home
at Myshykishek.'*

"That shall not be. Do not let your head ache on that ac-
count. For what you have done for us I can never show
enough gratitude."

The conversation was here interrupted by an officer who,
asked as he rode by:

'Who stands there?"

^^yershul," cried Skshetuski, recognizing his voice. "Do
you come from the scouting party?"

"Yes, and now have just come from the prince."

"What news is there?"

"To-morrow there is to be a battle. The enemy is work-
ing on the embankment, building bridges across the Sluch,
and insists on coming over to us."

"And what did the prince say to that?"

"The prince says, 'good.' '*

''Nothing more?"

\

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 397

''Nothing. He gave orders that they should not be hind-
ered, and the axes are working over there. They will work
until to-morrow."

"Did you get any news?"

"I took seven prisoners. They all said that they had heard
that Khmyelnitski was advancing; that he was not far away."

"What a night!"

"Bright as day. How do you feel after your fall?"

"My bones ache. I will just go and thank our Hercules,
and then I will go to sleep, for I am tired. If one could only
sleep two hours. Good night."

"Good night!"

"You go, too," said Pan Skshetuski, "it is getting late and
to-morrow we shall have to work."

"And the day after to-morrow we shall ride away," Zagloba
reminded him.

They moved away, said the Paternoster, and lay down
beside the watch-fire. Presently the fires one by one went
out. The camp was wrapped in darkness. Only the silver
beams of the moon shone down and showed fresh groups of
sleepers. The silence was broken only by loud snoring and
by the calls of the sentries who guarded the camp.

But sleep did not long hold the heavy lids of the soldiers.
The first ray of morning had hardly chased the shadows of
night when, on all sides of the camp, the trumpets sounded
the revielle.

An hour later, the prince, to the great astonishment of his
knights, retreated with all his forces.

CHAPTER XVI.

But the retreat was that of a lion who wants room for a
spring. The prince intentionally allowed Kshyvonos to ad-
vance in order to prepare for him a more complete defeat. In
the beginning of the battle, he whipped his horse and pre-
tended he was taking to flight, and when the Nij and the
*T)Iacks'^ saw that, they broke their ranks in order to follow
him and surround him; but the prince suddenly turned
round and attacked him with his whole cavalry, in such an
overwhelming manner, that they were unable to offer a mo-
ment's resistance. They were chased for a mile beyond to
the crossing, then beyond the bridge, dike, and to within
half a mile of the rear-train. They were hewn down without
mercy, and the hero of this day was the sixteen year old Pan
Aksak, who made the first attack and inspired the first panic.
Only with such experienced soldiers, old and experienced,
could the prince have dared to employ such craft, and to feign
fight. In any other army, it might really have changed into
a flight. But this second day ended with a still more heavy
defeat for Kshyvonos. All the field artillery were taken,
many standards, among them many royal flags, which the
Zaporojians had plundered at Korsun. If Korytski's in-
fantry, Osinski's cavalry, and Vurtsel's cannon had been able
to keep up with the cavalry, they would have taken the camp
with one stroke; but, before they arrived there, it was night
and the enemy had already moved to a considerable distance;
so it was impossible to overtake them. Zatsvilikhovski, mean-
while, captured half the camp and an enormous supply of
weapons and rations. The Slacks" seized Kshyvonos twice,
in order to take him to the prince; and he barely succeeded in
escaping from their hands by a promise to return without
delay to Khmyelnitski. He fled, therefore, with the remain-
ing half of his camp-train; decimated, beaten, reduced to
despair, and did not halt until he reached Makhonovka.
When he arrived here, Khmyelnitski, in his first moment of
anger, commanded that Kshyvonos should be chained to a
cannon.

398

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. 399

It was not until his first anger had passed that the Zaporo-
jian hetman remembered that the unfortunate Kshyvonos had
flooded the whole of Volhynia with blood; that he had taken
Polonne; had sent a thousand noble souls into the other
world; had left their bodies without burial and had every-
where been victorious, until he met with Yeremy. In con-
sideration of these services, the Zaporojian hetman took pity
on him and commanded that he should not only be released
from the cannon, but he placed him again in command, and
sent him to Podol to commit new slaughter and booty.

During this time, the prince gave his men notice that they
might take the long-wished for rest. During the last battle,
they had experienced considerable losses, especially in the
attack of the cavalry on the baggage camp, behind which the
Cossacks defended themselves obstinately and adroitly. Five
hundred men had fallen in this attack. Colonel Mokrski was
very severely wounded and shortly after gave up the ghost.
Pan Kushel, also, had a shot wound, but it was not dangerous.
Palanovski and young Aksak were also wounded, and Zagloba,
who had become accustomed to the crowd, and had valiantly
held his ground with the rest, had been hit three times with a
flail and was suffering from backache so that he could hardly
move, and lay as if he were dead in a small wagon of Skshetu-
ski's.

Thus had fate thwarted their plan of travelling to Bar,
for they could not get away; and, more particularly, as the
prince had sent Skshetuski at the head of several companies
to Laslav, to suppress the swarms of ^Hblacks" that were gath-
ered there. The knight went off without saying a word about
Bar to the prince; and for five days he burned and slaught-
ered and killed until the whole region was cleaned out.

At last his men were exhausted from uninterrupted fight-
ing, from the long marches, assaults, and watching, and he
resolved to return to the prince, whom, he had heard, was
going to Tamopol.

The night before his return, Skshetuski halted in Sukhoj-
ints on the banks of the Khomo; stationed his companies in
the village and took up his own quarters for the night in a
peasant's cabin; and, as it was very late and he was exhausted
from his labors, he soon fell apleep and slept like a stone the
whole night through.

Next morning, before he was fully awake, he began to
dream and to see visions; strange pictures passed before the

^OO WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

eyes of his soul. First it seemed to him as though he were in
Lubni; as though he had never left it; as though he were
sleeping in his room in the armory and as though Jendzian,
as usual in the morning, was setting out his clothes and
making preparations for his master when he should awake.

Gradually, however, daylight began to dissipate his dreams;
he came to the consciousness that he was in Sukhojints, not
in Lubni — ^the form of the boy alone did not vanish and
Skshetuski saw him still sitting at the window in a wooden
chair, busied in oiling the straps of the armor which had be-
come dry and stiff from the heat.

He still thought that a vision of sleep haunted him, and
therefore he shut his eyes again; presently he opened them,
but Jendzian still sat at the window.

"Jendzian/^ cried Skshetuski, "is it you or your ghost?''

The boy, startled by the sudden cry, let the armor fall with
a clatter upon the ground, raised his hands and said:

"For God's sake, sir, why do you speak so? What are you
thinking of, a ghost? It is I, myself, safe and sound."

"And have you come back?"

"Did you not drive me away?"

"Come here to me, that I may embrace you."

The young boy hastened to his master and clasped his
knees. Skshetuski kissed him on the forehead, full of joy
and repeated:

"You're alive! You're alive!"

"Oh, my master, I cannot speak for joy that I now sec you
in perfect health. . . . For God's sake, but you cried so, sir,
that I let the breastplate fall. The straps got stiff. They say
you had no easy task. Praised by Thou, 0 God! Praised
be Thou. . . . Oh, my beloved master!"

"When did you come?"

"This very night."

"And why did you not wake me?"

"Why should I wake you? I came here in the morning, in
order to fetch the things."

"Where did you come from?"

"From Hushck."

"What did you hear there? How did you get along?
Speak! Tell me!"

*TV^ell, sir, the Cossacks came to Hushch to plunder the
Voyevoda of Bratslav and to set his house on fire; and I had
got there before them, for I had gone there with Father

WITH FIRE AND SWORD. .^j

Patronius Lasko, who took me to Khmyelnitski at Hushch,
for the Voyevoda had sent him with a letter to Khmyelnitski,
80 I went back with him and, this time, the Cossacks had
burned down Hushch and killed Father Patronius, because he
loved us; and the same thing would have happened to the
Voyevoda, if he had been there, although he is their great,
blessed benefactor. , . , "

"Speak plainly and do not mix up things so. I cannot un-
derstand you. You were then with the Cossacks? With
Khmyelnitski? How is that?''

"Certainly, I was with the Cossacks; for when they caught
me in Chigrin they took me for one of their own, and would
not let me go. But dress yourself, sir! Dear God, and the
things are so destroyed that one can hardly hold them in his
hand. May God ... do not get angry any more, master,
because I did not deliver the letter in Rozloga that you wrote
in Kudak. . . . That thief, Bohun, took it away from me.
If the fat nobleman had not been there, it would have been
all up with me.''

"I know all about it, I know! It is not thy fault. This
fat nobleman is in the camp. He has told me everything;
just as it happened. He also took the princess away from
Bohun and she is being well taken care of in Bar."

"Oh, thank God! I knew that Bohun had not got her.
Then the wedding will soon take place?"

"Certainly; certainly. From here, we are commanded to
ride at once to Tarnopol and from thence to Bar."

"Thanks be to God, the Just! Bohun will hang himself
yet. A witch prophecied to him that he would never get the
one of whom he thinks, and that a Pole would get her; and
this Pole is you, sir!"

"How did you find out all that?"

"I heard it. I must tell you all the truth; but dress your-
self meanwhile, sir, for they are already preparing breakfast
for us. Listen, when I was leaving Kudak in the boat, we
rowed a frightfully long time against the stream and, besides
this, the boat went to pieces and we had to mend it. We
rowed, therefore, my master, we rowed, . . . . "

^TTou rowed, rowed!" interrupted Skshetuski impatiently.

"And arrived in Chigrin. Wha't happened there, you al-
ready know."

"I know all about it."

'T[ was lying in the stable then, and ooruld iiot b^q Gocl^s

»6

^Q2 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

beautiful world. Along came Khmyelnitski, immediately
after Bohun's departure, with an immense force of Zaporo-
jians and, as the Chief Hetman had punished the people of
Chigrin before for their fealty to the Zaporojians, and many
in the town were killed and wounded, they thought that 1
must belong to them, too; and so they did not kill me, but
gave me instead all comfort and care, and would not allow
the Tartars to take me with them, although they allowed them
everything else. When 1 came to myself, I thought, what
should I do? And this villain had, meanwhile, gone to Kor-
sun and had beaten the hetmans there. 6h, master! What
my eyes saw there, cannot be described in words. They con-
cealed nothing and knew no shame, as they took me for one
of their own. And I thought, 'shall I fly or shall I not fly;'
and I thought it was safer to wait for a better opportunity.
When they began to bring in from Korsun silver chests,
jewels. . . . Ah, me, master, my heart came near breaking;
and my eyes protruded from the sockets. And these rascally
thieves, they sold six silver spoons for one rouble, yes, even
for a quart of vodki; and one could, with a golden button or
a buckle, or a strap of a cap get a pint. I thought to my-
self, why should I sit here, doing nothing. I will take ad-
vantage of my opportunities. With God's help, I will some-
time go back to Jendziani in Podlasia, where my parents live,
I will go to them; for they have a lawsuit, there, with the
Yavorski, which has already lasted fifty years, and they have
no means with which to carry it on. And, master, I bought
all sorts of treasures, enough to load two horses; and that
was my only comfort in my sadness, for I was dreadfully
homesick to see you, sir."

"You are the same old Jendzian, always seeking to turn
everything to your own advantage."

"May God bless me, there is no harm in that. I do not
steal, and if you gave me a purse to take on my way to Roz-
loga, here it is. I think it is right to give it back, for I did
not get to Rozloga."

Then he loosened his belt, drew forth a purse and laid it
down before the knight. Skshetuski, however, smiled and
said:

"If you have had such good luck, you are undoubtedly
richer than I am; but keep this little purse."

"I thank you most humbly, sir. I have already collected
some property, thank God. My parents will be glad of it,

WITH PIR^ AND SWOiftD. 403

and also my grandfather, who is ninety years old; and the
Yavorskis will spend their last penny in the lawsuit apd will
wander about at last with a beggar's sack. And you, sir. will
also reap some advantage, for I will not ask again for the
colored belt that you promised me in Kudak, although I did
take a great fancy to it."

'* Because you have already asked for it! Oh what a rogue
you are. You are truly an insatiable wolf. I do not know
where the belt is, but whatever I promised you, you shall
have. If it is not that one, then another."

"I thank you most humbly," said the boy, clasping his
master's knees.

"Well, enough of that! Go on telling me what happened
to you."

"Well, God helped me to get my share among the robbers.
The only thing that troubled me was, that I did not know
what had happened to you, and I feared that Bohun had got
the young lady. I heard that he was in Chcrkass, and that
he could hardly breathe, because the princes had wounded
him severely; so I went to Cherkass. As you know, sir, I un-
derstand putting on plasters and binding up wounds. Every
one had found that out, so the Colonel Donits sent me to him
and he came with me himself, so that I might bind up the
rascal. Now, for the first time, a load fell from my heart;
for I learned that our young lady had escaped with that
nobleman. So I went to Bohun. I thought to myself, ^will
he recognize me? Will he not recognize me?' But he lay
in a fever and, at first, he did not recognize me at all. Later
on, however, he knew me and said to me. Did you not ride
with the letter to Rozloga?' I said, 'Yes,' and he said, *And
I hit you with an axe in Chi grin?' *You did, sir.' 'You are
in the service of Skshetuski,' he said; and I, who would not
dare to tell you a lie, said *I am in no one's service, sir, I
have got more evil than good in that service; that is why I
preferred to live in freedom with the Cossacks; and I have
been attending you, sir, for ten days and I will make you
well.' He now began to believe what I said and became very
confidential. I heard from him that Rozloga was burned
down; that he had killed the two princes and that the others,
when they heard it, wanted at first to go to our prince; but, as
they could not do that, they fled to the Lithuanian army.
But the worst was, when I mentioned the fat nobleman. Then
he would gnash his teeth, just as if he was cracking nuts."

'^as he ill long?"

404 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ flfiroiei).

"A very long time; for the wounds healed up and then
broke open again, because he would not take care of himself
at first. I sat by him a good many nights, — ^the devil take
him — ^as I would by a good man. But you must know, sir,
that I have sworn, by my soul's salvation, that I will pay him
back for the injuries he has done me, and I will keep it, sir,
if it should take me my whole life to find him. For he
treated me, an innocent fellow, as if I were a dog and dis-
graced me; and I am no vagabond. He will fall by my
hand if somebody does not kill him before then. I tell you,
sir, I have had the opportunity a hundred times for I was
often enough alone with him, but I thought to myself, 'Shall
I stab him or not; and I was ashamed to kill him as he lay
in bed."

"That is praiseworthy of you that you did not kill him
upon his sick bed. That would have been a peasant's trick,
not worthy of a nobleman."

"That is what I thought, sir. It also occurred to me, that
when my parents sent me away from home, my grandfather
said to me at parting, 'Eemember, my boy, that you are a
nobleman and have honor to preserve. Serve faithfully, but
never take a bribe.' He also said, that when a nobleman acts
like a peasant, the Lord Jesus weeps; and I haVe remembered
the lesson and follow it. So I had to let that opportunity go
by, and we became more and more confidential. Once, he
asked me, *How shall I reward you?' And I answered, *As
you please.' And I cannot complain. He provided hand-
somely for me and I took it; for I thought, why should it
remain in the hands of a bandit. And the others also gave me
presents on his account; for I tell you, master, no one is so
beloved as he by the peasantry and the people of Nij, al-
though, in the whole Commonwealth, there is not a noble-
man who had such a contempt for the 'blacks' as he has. . . "
Here Jendzian shook his head as though he were trying to
remember something or was in pain and, after a pause, he
continued speaking: "He is a strange man, and it must be
owned that he has the courage of a nobleman in everything.
And the young lady — ^how he loves her! How he loves her!
Mighty God ! When he began to recover, a girl came to him
from Dontsov to tell his fortune and she prophecied nothing
good. A contemptible giantess, she is in communication with
the devil . . . but a jolly girl. When she laughed vou could
have sworn that a mare was whinnying in the meadow. She
showed her white teeth and they were so strong that they

WITH FIRE AND 8W0RD. ^qj

could have torn a coat of armor, and, when she walked the
floor trembled beneath her steps. And through God's provi-
dence it was obvious that she liked me. She never passed me
without seizing me by the head or by the hand, or knocking
up against me. Sometimes she said to me, ^Come along,' but
I was afraid that the *black' beauty might twist my neck
somewhere in the solitude; and then I should have lost all
that I had gathered together. I answered her, therefore, *Are
there, not enough of others?' And she said, "You please me,
although you are only a boy, you please me, come along.'
'Be off with you, girl,' but she answered, 'you please me, you
please me.' "

"And did you see her when she was fortune- telling?" (per-
forming witchcraft).

"I saw her and heard her. Clouds of smoke, hissing, whist-
ling, shadows, so that I shook for fear. But she stood in the
midst, knitting her black eye brows and repeated, 'The Pole
is with her! The Pole is with her! Chylu! Hukul Chylu!
The Pole is with her!' Then she scattered wheat into a sieve
and looked at it, and the grains crept hither and thither like
worms; and she cried, 'Chylu! Huku! Chylu! The Pole is
with her!' Ah, sir, if he had not been such a robber, one's
heart would have bled at the sight of his despair after each
prophecy. He grew pale as a sheet, fell upon his back, wrung
his hands despairingly above his head, and cried, and whimp-
ered, and implored the young lady's forgiveness for having
come to Rozloga with force; for having killed her cousins.
'Where art thou, little Cuckoo, where art thou, Only One?'
he said. 'I will carry thee in my arms — I cannot live with-
out thee — ^I will not touch thee,' he said, 'with my hands; I
will be thy slave if only my eyes might behold thee!' Then,
he would remember Zagloba and gnash his teeth and bite his
. bed, until sleep overcame him; but even in his sleep he sighed
and. groaned."

"But did she never tell him anything good?"

"What happened after that, I do not know; for he recovered
his health and I got away from him. Father Lasko came,
and he persuaded Bohun to let me go with him to Hushch.
The thievish mob there knew that I had all sorts of prop-
erty with me. I, also, made no secret of it, that I was going
home to help my parents."

"And they did not plunder you?"

"Perhaps they would have done so but, fortunately there
were no Tartars there, and the Cossacks would not dare for

4o6 WITH FIRE AND SWORD.

fear of Bohun; besides they took me for one of their own
people. Khmyelnitski told me to listen and tell what went
on at the house of the Voyevoda of Bratslav when the leaders
should come together. . . May the devil light him home! So
I came to Hushch, and, one day, the advance guard of Kshy-
vonos arrived and killed Father Lasko, so I buried half of
my goods I had gained by bargaining, while I fled hither with
the other half; as I heard that my master was fighting the
enemy near Zaslav. Thanks be to Almighty God on high
that I found you, my master, in good health and good spirits,
and that you will soon have a wedding. . . Thus all bad
things will come to an end. I said to the rascals who were
marching against our prince, that they would never return.
Now they've got it! Perhaps the war will come to an end."

"What do you say? The prince is only beginning and is
about to attack Khmyelnitski himself."

"And after your wedding you will go back to fight?"

"Did you think that my wedding would transform me into
a coward?"

"No, I did not believe that. I know very well, if any one
was a